#and god forbid i make myself actually long for the beach

[lady-phasma]

Zaldrītsos

(Little Dragon)

Part 5 of ?

On AO3 as “Dragonstone: Mīsio hen dōrenka ȳgha ālion”

(I have nerdy notes about my High Valyrian but who wants to read those? The translation is Protector of the Stone Refuge)

Warning: 18+, NSFW

Summary: They left off with lots to discuss… I promise we're getting back to the smut... next chapter I swear!

They both sat down at the table and waited for their meal to be served. The Dragonstone meals were austere but the food was filling and a distraction. They ate in silence. Daemon looked up at her not sure what he expected to see. Rhaenyra could sit as still as stone and resolve a problem, she could distract herself with a book and find a solution, but he had to move, pace, fly. Sitting was not his strength but here he was. Sitting across from her at this obscenely long table. He was not accustomed to self-doubt, gods forbid insecurity. Her expression was unreadable. Perhaps he would be more focused on the decisions they needed to make if she would say, actually speak, the words that she forgave him. He had an anxiety that preoccupied him and he knew her forgiveness was the only thing that could kill it. 

He stood and walked to her. He extended his hand and was a bit surprised that she took it. She stood and he led them out of the room. The day was warming up and the clouds clearing. He could think and walk and she could think in silence as he lead them to one of the lower battlements. As they strolled down the battlement of one long, spoke-like wing of the castle he took her hand again. Only, after accepting his hand she moved closer to him and slid her hand up to his elbow. She laid her other hand over her own and he bent his arm out of courtly habit. He hated everything about court but this felt natural. Their bodies had been so trained for this type of strolling that they did it by instinct. In this setting it was different than at the court of the King, here she could run her fingernails along his arm, graze her hip against his as they walked in sync. She even turned, lithely on her toes, and kissed his cheek. 

Rhaenyra might not say the words but he knew that she had forgiven him. And if not totally forgiven him, understood that they had greater challenges to face and that he may have been punished enough. He sighed, hoping he understood her as well as he thought. She was changing so quickly, forced into womanhood sooner than he would have liked for her. However, it suited her well.

* * *

She surveyed the fields, cliffs, and beaches around them. This wasn’t the lowest wing of Dragonstone but it jutted out to the sea farther than any of the others and felt like the prow of a massive ship. She imagined when they arrived at the end the illusion would be complete: sea, salty air, wind whipping their hair, and it would feel like a stone ship taking them away from this unbelievable nonsense. She sighed and looked up at Daemon. ‘He could have been a king,’ she thought. She took a step on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He looked at her surprised at first then with a strange sort of awe. She would have blushed if the wind had not already made her cheeks a bright pink. 

“I know so much about you, not everything but so much that I feel that I know you like I know myself,” Rhaenyra began but she wasn’t looking at him. She began walking again. “If I needed to attack something dear to you, wound your ego, I would know of a few strategic actions that could mitigate conflict or propel you toward an armistice. But my father…” 

She let her hand slip from Daemon’s elbow and she paused, leaning against the stone crenellation. Her hands clasped in front of her wrung around each other. He stepped to face her but didn’t approach or interrupt.

“My father,” she continued. “I can’t say I know my own father as well as I know you. I don’t know what he holds dear or what can be used to negotiate with him.”

“Princess,” Daemon smiled and stepped toward her. “Would you care to tell me to which actions you are referring as regards your dear, sweet, devoted uncle.” He grinned and she waved a dismissive hand at him. He was so obnoxious but, thankfully, adorable when he was.

“No, I would not. Or, not right now. One never knows when one may need a plan for battle.” She grinned up at him. 

She smoothed a few strands of her hair behind her ear as she looked out over the sea. She stepped toward her uncle and raised up a bit on the balls of her feet. She placed a hand on his waist and used the other to smooth the windswept hair from his face. She kissed him, softly at first, then a bit harder, until he slipped an arm around her. He leaned down as she dropped back on her heels. His mouth was warm and deliciously wet. She really would rather stay here and push him down on the floor and see what it felt like to be on top of him, in the open air when she climaxed. She gasped a little at her own thoughts and noticed the sudden wetness between her thighs. All in the span of a few seconds and one glorious kiss. Seven hells! She wanted this to be her life. Not spending it on negotiations with a willfully-blind father made a puppet by his small council. 

She broke off the kiss but Daemon’s mouth was still open, lower lip slack and pouting. He chased her mouth just a bit and she yielded. She enjoyed watching him focus only on the prize of her lips. She loved that powerful feeling and she loved him. Gods, she loved him! She kissed him back forcefully and felt his hand begin to gather her skirts up. Higher and higher until the wind was licking against her thighs. He slid a finger through her heat. She moaned into his mouth.

“Sīr lōz,” he growled. So wet.  

* * *

Daemon truly had been listening to her and cared what she had to say. He would care again momentarily. He had been hard when he woke and watched her move in the dim morning light. Anger and flying had only exacerbated the situation not lessened it. Then, seeing her vulnerable and her stubbornness against being vulnerable for long, made him ache. She made enough overtures to him that his dam of self-restraint broke. 

She was so very, very warm compared to the brisk wind. He wanted more than his fingers touching her, he wanted to lay his zaldrītsos down right now and take her. Both of them angry with the situation they found themselves in. Expressing their rage at the world through the dragon-hot heat they would make between them. He grabbed her ass and lifted her to her tiptoes. These thoughts made him throb with his need. He kissed her chest and the exposed tops of her breasts. Gods how he wanted to protect her from everything outside their cold, stone refuge. Once again thinking of how he could keep her all to himself, lock her away. His fingers never stopped their exploration of her while he mused and kissed. 

Rhaenyra gripped his bicep to steady herself. Her other hand slipped into his hair. He pressed against her palm, encouraging her to run her fingers through it. He had begun to enjoy that the more she did it. He moaned into the cleft between her breasts. He slowed his pace and listened to her breath slow as well. Then, with a great sense of disappointment, he pulled his fingers away and dropped her skirts. He rose his fingers slowly to her lips. They drug down her bottom lip so that it caught and opened for him. Her eyes were soft and the lids heavy with want. Without further prompting she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around both of his fingers. It felt almost as good as her mouth on him and was definitely far less royal behavior in some crude way. He adored her. 

He kissed her briefly then set her back down on her heels. He was having a very difficult time thinking. He turned to face the wind and left his hand on her lower back to guide her and steady her if needed. He saw her tidy her dress from the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat.

“Well, talus,” he began. Well, niece. “I know what I would prefer to do but I think we would be better served to focus on the larger problem. I can defile you later, should you allow.” He couldn’t hide his dimples and his pleasure in the knowledge that she would allow him to do so, and many times over. 

“Seven hells!” she wiped at stray hairs stuck to her damp brow. “Yes, yes, fine. The larger problem…” She sighed. “Is that I don’t know what my father’s weaknesses are but, kepus, you do. You might not realize it but you know him better than maybe anyine in the seven kingdoms. What vulnerability does he have that could be used to call a truce at least?!” Her voice rose at the end of her question, in exasperation. Her hands balled into fists and she turned to look at him, leaving his hand holding air. 

Daemon dropped his hand to his side reflexively only to find he had not put on Dark Sister in his rush to flee this morning. He momentarily struggled to find a place for his hands so he leaned against the stone, loosely crossing his arms. He smirked.

* * *

She loathed that smirk. But only because she would do almost anything that followed it. She watched him fidget with his ring for a moment before settling his clasped hands in front of him. Of course that only drew her attention to the tightness of his breeches just behind them. She blinked hard to focus. 

“-less the damnable Hand is involved,” she had missed what he was saying, completely distracted. 

“My apologies, love, what was that?”

“I have some answers to your question, that is unless the Hand is involved,” he smiled at her. Daemon was hawk-eyed and she was sure he had seen her staring. 

“And if the Hand is involved… How can we discern that?” 

“That may be the most difficult task thus far,” he looked out over the sea. “I do know that neither of us will go to King’s Landing yet. We will send a raven if we must but I will not let you leave Dragonstone without me. And I don’t believe we would return together even if I were to accompany you.”

His eyes weren’t seeing, he was working out all the options, but Rhaenyra feared that all of his options were rash and reactive. She would have to balance that in him, slow his actions sometimes. 

“Well, that’s something,” she said. “One action we know we are not going to take.” She walked to him and kissed his cheek. Then she began walking the final few feet to the end of the battlement. “Another that I will not take is provoking Father to send the guard. I do not want more swords involved than absolutely necessary.”

“Then what action is there, princess?” he asked as he walked up behind her. He didn’t pull her to him but his hands rested on her hips. 

“As frustrating as it is for you uncle, I think the next action is nearly no action at all. We send a raven in reply. I think we can have a united decision in time to send one by dawn.”

“And the scroll cannot be from you, Rhaenyra,” he mused. She knew he could put his keen, manipulative mind to the task if he would not be rash. She had seen him play many games within the court and knew he could do it masterfully when emotions were not involved. 

“No, Daemon, it cannot,” she smiled to herself. “So it has to be sent soon enough that no one would suspect you allowed me to read it. Also, if cannot sound as if I had a part of its writing, as we suspect Otto may have in father’s. You will have to write it alone. I trust you.” She turned to face him. “You will write what we decide and you will convince your brother it is solely your contrivance.”

Rhaenyra began to walk back toward the entrance, the sun had begun to warm the afternoon and she longed to be comfortable and away from the possibility of lurking eyes and ears. 

The library was dim and cool. She lit a few candles for the table then slid onto the sofa. Daemon had been a few paces behind her when they came in and she assumed, rightly, that he was ordering wine and other things be brought to them. Shortly after he entered and sat at the end opposite Rhaenyra servants bustled in with fruit, cheese, sweets, and, of course, wine. She thought she might enjoy a cup today. His wines were always the best and she needed the relief from her thoughts.

* * * 

She had dropped her shoes onto the rug and sat with her knees up, delicate toes pointed at him. Daemon handed her a cup of wine and she leaned precariously toward the table to pick some fruit from a tray. He drug the low table closer to them. She snagged her captured prey and popped the berry into her mouth before sipping her wine. Her lips were slightly purple just in the center, a drip of dark wine lingered before she noticed and licked it off. It made his chest hurt to see that specter of the marriage blood on her perfect lips. He gulped at his wine then rested a hand on the tops of her feet. He spoke only after all of the servants had left and closed the door.

“I want to tell my brother that he can go fuck himself or Otto for that matter,” he snipped. Rhaenyra giggled into her cup. “But I know I shouldn’t make matters worse for you. I thought about telling him I would hurt you, send you away in tears, but that lie would only last so long. It’s still a promise that you would return. And without me. So, again to your point, his weakness are few. His children, including yourself, my darling. His wife is a liability, not a weakness.”

“And having been manipulated by many adults as a child, I will not use them,” she added.

“Well…” he gulped his wine and ate while he thought. “We could disregard the entire situation and live in Pentos until we’re old, tanned from the sun, and have at least two dozen grandchildren.” He tickled the arch of one of her feet. She giggled and swatted at him with the other foot. 

“We shall save that for the last recourse, shall we?” but she smiled at him as if she could do it right now. 

“Then get married and put my child in you is next,” he winked it her before she had a chance to take him seriously. She poked him in the ribs with her toes. Not that they both hadn’t thought about it but that wasn’t as important as the throne… yet.

“I will write the scroll this evening and I will tell dearest brother that you won’t be returning by his deadline but to save his guard the trouble, I will deliver you myself within a fortnight.” She bristled at his words. 

“Wait, hear me, talus, this is not set in stone yet but I think you will approve.” 

She laid the foot that was about to kick him onto his lap instead. The other joined it. He draped his hand over her ankles. 

“Six and ten days…” he did the math, estimating raven flight and dragon flight to King’s Landing. “We will buy ten days with as many words. I think we can find a solution in that time. If not a solution,” he turned his ring on his finger, “a suitable compromise. But I must ask you, Princess, what is the ultimate price you are willing to pay? What are your weaknesses?” Of course he thought he knew and to tease her he smoothed his palm up her calf under her skirts. He sat his cup on the table and made to kneel over her. She placed her foot flatly and firmly on his chest and pushed. 

He fell back to his seat, feigning to pout and wishing this were behind them. 

“And ten days to do that,” she grinned and slid her foot down his chest, over his lap, and down to the sofa. She sat up and tucked both of her feet under her skirts. 

* * *

She thought for a moment. Her hand went to her necklace, a habit that helped her relax. If she were unable to realize, or admit, any weaknesses other than Daemon what could she contrive as one for the situation. 

“I think you know that you are my weakness,” she looked at him with the utmost love. “However, you are not a weapon for the Crown to use in this battle. Perhaps a convincing falsehood would suffice but which isn’t immediately clear. If I truly wanted the Iron Throne then it would be my greatest weakness. So, kepus, this is your scroll, what do you suggest?”

He was quiet for a moment. Rhaenyra needed him to decide so the message would be believable but she was intensely curious about his choice. She watched his long fingers slowly adjust his ring. He was without Dark Sister she noticed, his hands would naturally have gone to his sword were it there. 

“I will bring you to King’s Landing in a fortnight to discuss the matter. I will suggest but not state outwardly that I plan to leave you there. I will let him and the Hand believe that I do not care what the outcome is. My suggestion will be quite bold. I will express that the quickest way to resolve this is to have you wed.” She stared at him. 

“You do not believe that, surely, but will it not put us both in a defenseless position?”

“No,” he answered with no tone at all. “When we arrive I will tell him my choice for your Prince Consort. Myself. In a fortnight I will petition that we be wed.”

Rhaenyra’s heart skipped and and her stomach tightened. 

“That, zaldrītsos, is your weakness,” he continued. “Not that you require a husband but that one is required of you. You must fill that role as part of your duties. My petition will fall on deaf ears but I see no other course.”

She had thought about it, quite a lot, but she had thought about the prospect as something intimate and directly tied to Daemon. If, however, her father were to see her desire to choose her husband as a weakness they could perhaps use that in their favor. There were so many unpredictable outcomes and more than a few ended with her abdication. She was sure the Hightowers would be pleased to ship her off to the Red Waste to see their heirs take the throne. Daemon was right, allowing themselves the time to think, putting off the final decision was the best path. 

“Yes,” she finally spoke. “Send the raven immediately. I will have to decide if my greater weakness is my agency or the realm.”

“They will think they have a better, more suitable match for you,” he reminded her. “They will surely have a Velaryon or some other great house selected. But what can any of these houses offer you that will not pale in comparison to House Targaryen. The petition must appeal to their disregard of your agency and promise a line more pure than that of my brother’s and that Hightower wh-“

“No,” she cut him off. “She too has been robbed of agency. But I agree that the appeal you suggest is quite possibly the only choice we have.” She smiled. She sat up and adjusted her skirts so she could lean toward him. “And if they should forbid me my silver-haired Prince perhaps I will allow you to tell them to, well how did you so eloquently phrase it Uncle?”

“That he could fuck himself. Fine words for your future Prince Consort?” He brought his face closer to hers. “Are you sure you will allow me in court, my Queen?” His rakish grin sent waves of excitement down her body to her core. He kissed her and she kissed him back. 

Chapter 6

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen #High Valyrian is a love language #daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon fic #hotd fic #zaldrītsos #matt smith

[honeymoononvenus]

JEEPERS CREEPERS

“Happiness is only real when shared” 

Famed words that were found scribbled in the margins of a Boris Pastemak book belonging to Christopher McCandles, a mere three weeks before his untimely death, alone in an abandoned bus. 

For those unfamiliar with the haunting true story compiled in the John Krakenur book “Into the Wild”, Chris ( or Alexander Supertramp as he liked to be referred to ) walked away from his seemingly comfortable, privileged existence in exchange for a gruff life on the road while making his way through the American wilderness. 30 years after his now infamous death, the irony of the ideal solo journey ending with such a polarising epiphany has not been lost. 

While I personally didn't follow Chris’ path precisely - as in , pack up in the middle of the night, not tell anyone I know where I am heading, leaving only a conspicuous trail of crumbs that link to any sign of my existence - I still did find myself somewhat foolishly romanticising the mentality that it takes to do such a thing, only to be harshly reminded of the reality an endless odyssey does have. 

To any outsider, I fit the extrovert mold perfectly. I'm charming, confident, able to talk to anyone about anything, and have no problem being the center of attention; but deep down I crave a much more subtle intimacy than my perceived extrovertedness would let off . My outer shell is merely a coat of arms to stop anything from penetrating through and the possibility of being seen as ‘vulnerable’, or god forbid.. human. 

So naturally, any time I feel my armor being prodded a little too much for my liking, I run. I suppose that's how I ended up in Italy. Or London. Or Thailand. Or just about any place that I’ve found myself having to quickly acclimate to after a hasty purchase on whichever destination held the cheapest flights the day before. I simply hop on the first thing that will take me far away from whatever it is that is hurting me and refuse to look back. 

I’m a regular Jutin Long, just attempting to outrun some form of emotional jeeper creeper. And don't get me wrong, for a while, miraculously this worked! Some of the best times of my life have been found in the sporadic choices I made. When your ‘creeper’ hasn’t quite figured out where you are yet or how exactly it can lay its talons on you, my GOD what a wonderful time that is! Truly, its all sex, drugs, rock n roll and half naked parties on tropical beaches in the moonlight. Life is pure ecstasy, and totally pain free. 

These days though, it feels as if as if my creepers are becoming fitter, smarter, always always one step ahead, lurking around every corner ready to remind me of the unbearable pain of existence that I thought I had been oh so clever in escaping. No amount of foreign capades can camouflage you from the ominous reality of your own suffering. 

But what does this have to do with some dreamer kids elusive quote? 

Well, when you live life on the whim as much as I, when you continuously throw caution to the wind and insist that geographically moving is the best and only thing to do - it gets really fucking lonely.

 I don't stay in a place long enough to put down solid roots, and roots, as I have found, are generally needed to have a sense of stability.  Don't get me wrong - this doesn't mean I'm a shallow person; strangely enough it's quite the opposite. Since I'm aware enough to know that my quick trigger response is to run away,  I’m also aware that means I probably won't be around a place long enough to root, so I'm able to wear my heart on my sleeve and really throw all of myself at whichever poor sod thought I was enthralling enough to share a beer with at the hostel bar. 

I kind of just hope that by throwing some version of vulnerability out there into the world, it would magically just fill my deep desire for it without actually putting in the work it takes to build a relationship with depth and integrity. At heart, I crave deep intimacy abundantly, but am much too terrified to see what happens if I stick around long enough for it to be reciprocated, so I panic and either completely self-sabotage (typically in the form of word vomit so vile I come across as an absolute nut ) or I run. And spectacularly for me, usually it’s a grand combination of both. 

One thing that no one tells you about being this free spirited spinster, is the guilt that you feel. The guilt that you are missing the important things from the home that you so hastily ran from; nephews' first birthdays, grandparents last birthdays, friends' weddings. The guilt you feel for all of the potential great romances you extinguished before you could truly let the fire of desire light you up inside since the price of pain that we must pay for love seemed too high a sacrifice. The guilt you feel when you're walking around some of the most beautiful places in the world, experiencing first hand the art and culture and food and music that others will never in their life get a chance to; and STILL feeling severely empty and morose. THAT guilt is the worst guilt. It's one thing to just feel numb, it's another to feel totally culpable about the emotional paralysis. 

Mix your new found need for connection, the shame and guilt that’s eating you alive, with the creepers catching you, and THAT'S the moment the Chris McCandles quote can be felt deep within your bones, like the wake up call that you’ve snoozed 16 times already; 

HAPPINESS IS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED. 

I feel this when I'm sitting and watching the most breathtaking sunrise in the world, only wishing I had a friend with me. I feel this when I'm at a brilliant party surrounded by phenomenal people, but wish that just one of them could see past the facade I’d become so accustomed to putting on. I feel this when I catch a couple sneaking a kiss in front of a monet, after yet again rejecting a budding fling out of fear of my own inevitable sabotage. 

But the best thing is.. I don't HAVE to feel this anymore. None of us do. 

 I mean, take it from the guy who once thought the way to inner peace and happiness was to seclude himself completely and die alone in a van in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness; We simply do not heal in solitude. The only way to heal and begin to feel truly happy is through acceptances of our innate need for human connection. We heal when we let love in even if our entire instinct is to run away as fast as we can. We heal when we call a trusted friend to speak of our loneliness instead of buying another bottle of whiskey to fill the hole. We heal when we admit defeat to our creepers; we put down our weapons, take off our running shoes and let the creepers in. We give them a familiar hug and softly ask them what they can teach us about ourselves, THAT'S when you can finally begin to learn that rooting yourself to places and people is not so scary after all. 

Or , take it from me. Submit. The only way out is through. It’s time to go home. 

----------

PHOTO: Kenne Gregoire /// Chris McCandles

[orcelito]

i havent been to the beach in over 10 years how am i supposed to write this shit dslkjfalskdjf

#speculation nation #and god forbid i make myself actually long for the beach #i fucking HATE the sun and i hate the sand #and i hate swimming in the ocean. it's literally like. NOTHING caters to me. #but the beach... at night.................. the sound of the waves......................... <3 #and if i was someone else who was not fucking allergic to the sun maybe beach in the day would be fun #anyways yes the mocha latte is to channel the summer vibes and so maybe i can get into the mindstate for writing this fucking chapter

[kaylawritesfics]

Hi can I have an imagine from Outer Banks with JJ were him and I are best friends we always goof off and joke around, I secretly like him so one night at the beach with the group him and I start joking around when I get shy and blush and accidentally stutter. He's confused what's up with me so the group blurts out that I like him so I run away embarrassed and JJ chases after me and we have a moment and kiss and it's teasingly cute. Lol thank you :) sorry if it's long I'm big on details

Dating JJ Maybank

headcanons

summary: what it’s like to date jj :)

WARNINGS: marijuana usage, swearing, alcohol, brief mentions of abuse

pairing: jj maybank x gender neutral!reader

a/n: I did this request as headcanons because I didn’t trust myself to not make this incredibly cheesy but everything in the request is still included :) if you still want me to do an imagine about it, let me know bc I don’t mind :)

*not proof-read*

before dating:

the two of you would definitely start off as best friends

you’ve been best friends with JJ for just as long as John B and the three of you are incredibly close.

chaotic duo™

jj would spend most nights at your house because he doesn’t want to go home to his dad 

if your parents are cool with it, he definitely has his own house key and never knocks

if they’re not, he waits outside until he sees all the lights turn off, then he sneaks in through your window

jj is super affectionate even before you start dating so random hugs and cheek kisses are a thing

he’s also super protective of you

pet names are also his thing

“bub” “sweetheart” “baby”

they’re all used platonically

being best friends with jj is basically like dating jj but neither of you know it yet

the group knows it, though

and oh boy they are not gonna let you live it down

“mr and mrs/mr/mx maybank” “shut the fuck up, pope”

sarah 100% thought the two of you were together when she met you (she’s still not totally convinced that you’re not)

wearing his clothes is unavoidable because his entire wardrobe is in your closet

you two would argue a lot but it would only ever be in a playful manner

jj swears that he’s never been genuinely upset with you in his life

he would totally be the fucker that would see you sitting on the arm of the couch and push you off and laugh about it for ten minutes

his favorite past time is smoking weed with you (at the chateau, in the van, on the beach, he really doesn’t care)

it wouldn’t take long for you to realize that jj was actually really fucking hot and holy shit you might be in love with your best friend

you go to sarah or kie pretty quickly after you figured out you had a crush on jj

and the pogues are so horrible at keeping secrets within the group so kie would accidentally tell pope, then pope would tell john b and pretty soon everyone knew that you liked jj

and they all knew jj liked you back

you would be having a bonfire when they spilled the beans

you would all be a little drunk or a little high and jj would be sitting next to you

when jj’s drunk he has absolutely no concept of personal space so he would be practically breathing down your neck

john b would say something stupid and jj would lean over to whisper some kind of snide comment in your ear 

but all you would be able to focus on would be his breath on your ear and neck and his hands around your waist 

and your face turns a tomato red color (which, of course, doesn’t go unnoticed by john b and pope)

“god will you two just fuck already?” “fuck off, JB” “no seriously we have a bet and if you don’t hook up by the end of the month, i’m gonna lose to kie”

the comments would continue until you decide you’ve had enough and storm back up to the chateau

jj would be hot on your heels

he would catch you by the wrist before you could go inside

“Y/N wait-”

kissing him was an impulse decision but once you saw how concerned he was for you, you couldn’t help it

dating:

jj was protective before but after you start dating, it’s multiplied by like 10,000

god forbid rafe cameron or topper thornton so much as look in your direction because jj will be throwing hands so quick

topper accidentally bumped into you once and jj took personal offense to it

jj swears that all he needs in his life are you, his surfboard, and maybe some weed

he has an old polaroid camera that he got at a thrift store for like $5 and it barely works but he adores it

he takes pictures of you and keeps them in a little cardboard box under his bed

some of them are spicier than others

his favorite is a picture of you laying in his bed in your bikini and his button up shirt (he keeps this one in his wallet)

jj’s guilty pleasure is 70′s and 80′s music

like can you imagine laying in bed, smoking with jj, and listening to fleetwood mac or queen

jj’s is never not touching you

his arm is always around your shouders or waist

he would be your biggest hype man

like he just loves you so much and he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t think you’re perfect

you have to constantly get him out of trouble

“yes officer, it’ll never happen again i swear” “you said that last time”

arguments are rare but when they do happen, jj always gets you a little gift to make up for it

its usually a bracelet made out of string that looks exactly like the one he wears or a little seashell or something that reminded him of you

on rainy days, the two of you binge watch shows on netflix and smoke

naps in hammocks are a regular occurrence (you both usually end up burnt)

surfing together is also a pretty common thing

he always wants you to sit on his lap and he’s always whispering in you ear

sometimes he whispers sweet things

other times he’s talking shit

“did you see her hair oh my god”

jj always comes to you after a fight with his dad

its always the same routine

you clean his cuts and fix what you can then you hold him while he sobs

jj appreciates you so much

and he genuinely has so much love for you

he’s your best friend and boyfriend all in one

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj #jj maybank headcanon #jj obx #outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #sarah cameron #obx #obx season 2 #rudy pankow #chase stokes #madelyn cline #jonathan davis #madison bailey #imagine #jj imagine #rudy pankow imagine #john b routledge imagine #kaylawritesobx

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

May I has moar cherik fic recs please??

damn, y’all are GREEDY for cherik fics .... I, of course, have more, but damn

as usual, in order of shortest to longest

Brandished Steel, Wicked Rook

Words: 1,057

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Charles’ bare skin is awash in flame and darkness as he lies there, hair splayed over his forehead and eyes as black as crow feathers, glistening. His lips are bright and wet and red. And he says, in his red way, “All hail, Macbeth.”

AU in which Erik and Charles are Macbeth and "Lady" Macbeth, respectively.

Inspired by both the original play and the film version of Macbeth (2015) directed by Justin Kurzel.

Opinion: This is a weird one because it’s very short and not something I would usually read - but at the same time, the dynamic and writing style and reference makes it feel like it was written for me specifically. Macbeth is my favorite Shakespeare play by far, and Fassbender is very good in the 2015 film. This fic makes me wish it was 60,000 words. If at some point I actually finish my current WIPs, I might force myself to write a long cherik Macbeth AU, and it would be incredibly self-indulgent, smutty, and morally grey/dark. Because I deserve it.

Spark Me Up

Words: 3,007

Rating: Explicit

Summary: "This is Erik raw. This is Erik lost. This is Erik looking at Charles like he is the only piece of wreckage in a vast ocean. The only star in the sky.

And such a look does things to Charles."

After ten years, they are both starving for each other.

Opinion: This one’s a little different. After years in solitary confinement (taking place in Days of Future Past), Erik is very touch-starved and he and Charles ..... get to touching. 

Erik is asexual in this fic and tagged as such, so if asexual characters participating is sexual acts is off-putting to you, maybe give this one a skip.

Never a Place

Words: 3,047

Rating: Teen and Up 

Summary: It takes some getting used to. Charles hasn’t seen Erik cheerful, actually cheerful without a homicidal intent of some sort in a very long time—perhaps never.

Or. Charles takes Erik up on his offer while trying to process everything. Erik is remarkably patient until he isn't.

Opinion: Erik and Charles in Genosha post-Dark Phoenix! Very cute!

You, you, you are what I want

Words: 4,803

Rating: Explicit 

Summary: "Erik was so sure Charles was interested in him as well that whenever the telepath backed away from him it felt extremely confusing."

Opinion: Got some trans!Charles Xavier and Erik being smitten. Always a good combo.

On a Beach, With You

Words: 6,495

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr on a beach in Israel.

Opinion: Charles and Erik meet, fall in love, and get married in like, 2 weeks. It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s well-written, the smut is good, and you kind of think to yourself “yeah normally getting married after knowing each other for so little time is a bad idea, but damn if I don’t think these two can make it”. Definitely worth a read!

Emissary Requiring Interplanetary Cooperation

Words: 15,584

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Charles is drunkenly wandering home one night when he sees a bright light in a field. To his delight, the cause of the light is a gorgeous alien in the form of a man with the biggest dick he's ever seen.

Opinion: Incredibly fun and cracky smut. Enjoy. I know I did ;)

Made To Be Broken

Words: 18,220

Rating: Explicit 

Summary: Charles makes a New Year's Resolution: “No more straight men,” Charles repeated as he began scrolling through the apartment directory for Emma’s name. “No more futility. No more pointless hoping and heartbreak. In 2013, I never want to hear the words ‘exception,’ ‘experimenting’ or ‘phase.’ If, God forbid, I hear ‘bicurious’ even once, I may take a hostage.”

Then he goes into the party, and Erik is there.

Opinion: This is one of those fics you read on a whim one night when you have nothing to do, but keep coming back to weeks after you finish it because it’s so. Damn. Good. Well-written. Shockingly emotional. Smutty. Interesting discussion of relationships and sexuality. I got caught up rereading my favorite parts while making this list. I love this fic and you will too, or else. 

A Wedding Planner Walks Into a Bar

Words: 19,451

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When Raven hires Erik to be the bartender at her wedding, he becomes quickly infatuated with the wedding planner, Charles Xavier, who he thinks is her fiancé.

Opinion: This one’s fun. A bit more chill than some of the others. Plus you have the classic idiots-in-love-don’t-realize-it-because-of-a-misunderstanding-that-could-be-easily-solved-but-won’t-be. 

We’ll Show Them All

Words: 19,529

Rating: Teen and Up 

Summary: Pacific Rim AU. Ten years later, the monsters are back, and newly-instated Marshall Charles Xavier needs to pull a team together to prepare for the coming war. That means finding his talented sister a Drift-compatible copilot -- even if that turns out to be his old flame Erik.

Opinion: This is one of those things that reminds me I need to watch Pacific Rim. It’s good if you haven’t though, and I’m proof of that. Erik and Charles are so angsty here but so in love. Plus, Raven content! Love that for us.

Five Nights In Nuremberg 

Words: 26,138

Rating: Explicit 

Summary: When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Opinion: This one has potentially triggering content in the form of mutant camps and discrimination. Approach with caution. Otherwise, it’s very good.

Appropriate Boundaries

Words: 33,346

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Charles has been having serious problems with back cramps in the year and a half since he's been in a wheelchair. His doctor prescribes massage therapy. But when Charles meets his masseur, Erik, in some ways they begin to heal each other. So how do you cross the boundaries between professional touch -- and the personal?

Opinion: Erik and canon disabled Charles navigating sex and a relationship. It’s cute! It’s hot! It’s fun! It’s well-characterized! It’s emotional! I’m running out of words to describe these fics, I mean I wouldn’t be reccing them if I didn’t think they were good- 

April

Words: 56,225

Rating: Explicit

Summary: In the sharp, unforgiving plains of the Canadian Arctic, Erik is since long adapted to solitude and silence. Separated from civilization, dedicated to nothing but his research, he has formed a life that suits him. There is nothing he would ever want to change. So, naturally, the arrival of grad student Charles Xavier upends everything Erik ever thought he wanted, for better or for worse.

Opinion: Charles and Erik basically locked in a shack together with no one else for human contact?????? Internalized issues and homophobia?????? Fluff and angst???????? Yes???????

Thou Shalt Not East Stones

Words: 77,422

Rating: Not Rated 

Summary: Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Opinion: This one’s got everything. Humans being dicks. Protective Erik. Hurt Charles, and pissed-off Charles. Trauma recovery. Rebuilding a relationship. Love. Pain. Everything.

That’s all folks! No one ask me for more until at least after New Years, or I swear to Magneto, I will PUNT YOU

#cherik #cherik fanfiction #fic recs #fic rec #asks #Anonymous #long post #VERY long post

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

hi hi! if they’re open could i have a cake w a male character if that’s okay bb? i’m 5’5, she/her with long dark brown hair with the front half of my right side dyed white, green eyes and tan skin! i’m super bubbly, loud, naturally v flirty and my love language is physical touch! i love working out and i’m a huge foodie. i’m stubborn and impulsive, love rain and storms, coffee and i’m pretty open to pda! i’m emotional, super confident (in myself and socially), bold, giggly, energetic and observant (especially of people feelings) i tend to ramble a lot especially if i’m passionate about something but i’m a super good listener and love comforting others! i’m a night owl - love late night adventures, i’m super playful and love teasing people! i’m a bit of a goof ~

i’m spontaneous, optimistic, passionate and ambitious but i have super high standards for myself so sometimes i tend to overwork! i’m sooo competitive - even just playfully, wear my heart on my sleeve but i try to hide it behind my ego but in reality i’m a HUGE SOFTIE n get easily attached! i’m self assured and super straight forward - especially about my feelings. i can be a bit of a drama queen but it’s just for fun and if i’m feeling annoying (always) my favourite seasons are autumn/winter, i LOVE boba, the outdoors and walks/hikes - i love cosy nights at home though! my ideal type is someone tall, who can make me laugh, doesn’t mind physical touch and is protective! tysm <3

Ahhhh I had so much fun writing this one!

🍰 for @hvnlydmn

Romantic Matchup...

Bokuto Koutarō 🦉

Cries in Bokuto simp

Anyways 🥲 you and this man have so much in common!!!

Y’all probably had the cliche friends to lovers troupe

He probably caught on to your unintentional flirting but didn’t want to ruin the close friendship you guys had

Which meant you were gonna have to be the one to confess

Which you didn’t mind. You really didn’t care if he knew how you felt about him

When you confessed to him Bokuto was just like “🧍‍♂️you...like me?”

After he registered what you said he could not be happier!

And once you start dating....

Mans is ALL OVER YOU

And when he finds out you like physical touch and don’t mind PDA? Oh Bokuto is ECSTATIC

You like working out? He does too!

Que in the couple workout videos

He LOVES how confident and ambitious you are

But nonetheless will absolutely hype you up at every given moment

Ngl he probably never really listens to your rambles but he adores how passionate you get!

He’s a night owl right along with you bb

Sometimes y’all be texting till 5 in the morning

He is down for ANY of your spontaneous adventures

Like you wanna eat chicken nuggets while walking on the beach at 2 am? Bet He’ll be over in 10

He really appreciates how you can keep up with his energy

And surprisingly enough you can handle all of his mood swings

Akaashi loves you for this

Y’all would definitely be that couple that makes everything a competition

“Hey y/n I bet I can eat more rice balls than you”

He was actually kind of shocked that you won that bet...

Overall he loves you and you love him and that’s all you could ask for ❤️

Friendship Matchup...

Tōru Oikawa 👽

The BADDEST bitches out there! I

You guys definitely feed into each other’s egos

One thing that drew Oikawa to you was how confident you were!

Like honey you did not give two fucks what other people thought of you

Which is good for you two cause his fan girls are all low key jealous of you and try to get under your skin

But honestly you could care less

Now unlike Bokuto Oikawa would listen to your rambles and chime in

God forbid you told him how someone pissed you off

Mans will find them and make them CRY (emotionally of course)

Speaking of... you guys bully tease people constantly!

I feel like he picked up on your flirtatious side and tries to get you to flirt with Iwa just to see him get flustered

Your best memory with him is when y’all had a full on spa day

I’m taking facials, manicures, pedicures, the whole package

Somehow you convinced him to get acrylics with you 😳

Then afterwards you guys both bought some fancy ass clothes cause y’all were feeling yourselfs!

Then just went to get fast food and boba 🧋

Y’all got some weird looks that day...

But 10/10 friendship right here

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu fandom #haikyuu!! #bokuto x reader #Bokuto x y/n #Bokuto hc #oikawa tooru #oikawa headcanons #hq oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu matchups #hq hcs #bokuto fluff #bokuto #bokuto koutarō #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x y/n

[bordeleaubeau]

someone like you - trevor zegras

chapter one wc: 6161

you keep your head down as you and your management team walk through the crowd of people that had gathered outside of the airport once word got out you were finally taking a break from the music industry. it wasn’t going to be very long - just the summer, so you had time to recoup and still spend your summer as an actual teenager. and without people watching and documenting your every single move.

“y/n, hurry up!” your manager, hope, yells, yanking roughly on your arm to keep you moving. because god forbid if you stopped for one second, you��d be trampled on the ground. 

but it’s hard. you’ve got girls of all ages -- eight to twenty-something -- yelling, trying to get your attention for a quick selfie or an autograph, even if it had to be on their arm. sometimes you felt awful, but sometimes you wished they would understand that you just needed a break. you were exhausted. you were physically and mentally drained.

you had been in the spotlight since you were twelve years old and one of your singing videos had gone viral. since then, you signed with a record label in los angeles, got an agent, headlined for taylor swift, and had your own tour. all before the age of seventeen. you weren’t sure how all of this happened but somehow it did. and while sometimes it got exhausting, like right now and all you want is to be in your own home in the arms of your mother, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

once you and your team get into the airport you’re finally able to let out a breath of relief. the sunglasses that had been covering your eyes, not just protecting them from the sun but also from the flash from the paparazzi cameras, were now sitting on top of your head.

“that’s the biggest crowd we’ve had in a while,” your fashion stylist, sabrina, grumbles as she straightens out her outfit. “it’s ridiculous. we announced the break yesterday, how did they know she was leaving today?”

“they want their last glance at her before she disappears, isn’t that right, kid?” hope nudges you and you give her a soft smile. she gives you a tight lipped smile. she was the first one to realize you were worn out and she was the one that had suggested you taking a break in the first place. “the paps just want to get their last bucks in before they can’t get any of her, that’s all.”

caitlyn glances down at her watch and grimaces, “alright, y/n/n. we’ve gotta get a move on. your jet is scheduled to leave in twenty minutes, let’s go.” 

you nod your head at your agent, turning to the members of your team that had come for your little send off. “thank you all, and i can’t stress it enough, for absolutely everything. you’ve all been here since i was fourteen and have stuck by me since then and you’ve all made me the girl i am today. but i need this break more than anything. no paparazzi. no screaming fans. no one asking me for autographs. back at home i’m just me. and i want to be just me again.”

you’re choking up by the end of your short speech, and before the tears can fall and can ruin the makeup kylie had spent nearly an hour perfecting you wipe them away. 

“oh sweetheart,” hope mumbles and quickly hugs you. “i love you honey, you know that. you’re the daughter i never had. i don’t want you to turn out like the rest of them, and we all know you need this more than anything.”

you nod against her shoulder, too afraid to speak and you to end up crying. so you quickly say your goodbyes to everyone before caitlyn has your arm linked in hers and she’s walking you towards where your plane was waiting for you. 

“are you sure you’re gonna be okay, y/n?” caitlyn asks quietly, glancing over at you. “it’s okay to tell me if you’re not, you know.”

you shrug. “i’m not sure yet. i’m absolutely exhausted. i haven’t been able to write a good song in months, or think straight, or have a single second to myself. i just don’t want to come back and everyone has forgotten about me by then.”

caitlyn stops you both in the middle of the terminal, her stepping out in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders forcing you to look at her. “y/n l/n, no one is going to forget you. you’re america’s sweetheart! that one took the entire world by storm from her singing the national anthem at a patriots game. that headlined with her idol. the one that sold out madison square garden. honey, they couldn’t forget you even if they tried.”

you crack a smile. “thanks, cait. now let’s go, okay? i’ve got a puppy to pet. my little sisters and brother. my momma, travis. i’m excited. i’m ready to be a normal teenager.”

“there she is.”

__________________________

stepping off the shuttle bus in nantucket is like a breath of fresh air that’s enough to make you want to cry tears of joy. the ferry ride was calming, sitting and watching the waves rise and fall just like you had on the first day of summer and the last getting ready to go back to greenwich before fame struck. it was nostalgic, sitting on the ferry going back to the place you loved to call your home.

“y/n l/n is that you?” you could recognize that voice from anywhere. you turn on your heels quickly to see the curly blonde haired girl that was one of your best friends on the island.

“andie!” you shout, your eyes going wide. getting a few looks from people walking on the streets. but it wasn’t like they didn’t know who you were - you knew practically everyone on this island and they knew you. but to them? you were still the sweet little twelve year old girl you were when you left. 

andie and you both sprint towards each other, and when your bodies collide you wrap your arms around her waist, the two of you rocking back and forth as you feel the love bubble up in your chest. “god, i missed you so much, y/n/n. why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” andie pulls away just enough to look at your face.

“it all happened quickly,” you explain. “hope suggested it to me after an incident. i’ll explain it over coffee at handlebar tomorrow morning, okay? i have to get home, my mom is expecting me any minute now and i can’t keep her waiting anymore, okay?”

andie nods, knowing the relationship you had with your loving mother. “got it. text me, y/n/n. but i’ll see you tomorrow.”

with one last hug you’re headed back into the direction of your summer beach house. you let your feet guide you to the house, a large white house with plenty of decks, windows, and sunlight. the house you spent every summer in up until you were twelve years old. since then, you had always been in california with the exception of your headline tour and your first personal tour. 

all of your belongings had been shipped here, and according to the text from your mother you were lucky that they had arrived earlier today. so the second you walked through that door? you were a normal teenager. that’s what everyone on the island thought of you as and that’s what your family always treated you as.

except you never even have to walk up to the front door. your mother is a step ahead of you - she throws the front door open and runs the few feet towards you to close the gap before her arms are thrown around you. “hi mama,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around her torso. 

“y/n, honey,” she pulls back, her hands cupping your cheeks before she gives you a sad smile. “how are you doing, sweetheart? hope kept me updated - i’m so sorry we weren’t able to make it out there it’s just that-”

“you just couldn’t get out there. i understand, mom. i know you were trying everything you could and it just wasn’t working.” your mother gives you a tight lipped smile, grateful that you had understood. 

“alright, hon. come in. mia has been going on and on about seeing you since we told them you were coming home.” your mother leads you back into the house, where travis, your step father, stood holding your three year old half sister, addie with a smile. mia, your other half sister, comes running from the living room.

“hey hon,” travis smiles, and he goes in for a hug, but before he can mia wraps her arms around you.

“y/n!” mia squeals, her feet alternating as she patters them against the floor in excitement. “i missed you. dylan missed you, too. but he won’t say that.”

you look over travis’ shoulder to see your only fully biological sibling, your eleven year old brother, dylan. he’s got a grimace on his face and his arms are crossed over your chest. to say the least, that was the expression you expected from him.

“dyl, are you gonna say hi to your sister?” your mother asks, and in response, dylan shakes his head before turning his back to you and marching up the stairs. your mother sighs, “i tried to get him to warm up to the idea of you coming home, y/n/n, but, i’m sure he’ll come around soon, alright? he’s got no choice.”

you nod, trying to mask your hurt with a smile. “okay, mia, your dad needs to hug me too you know,” you laugh, giving an apologetic smile to travis as mia was still latched to your legs. mia lets out an exaggerated sigh before she releases her hold and you get to walk forward to hug travis, addie still in his arms.

“hey kid,” travis smiles, wrapping his free arm around you. addie grimaces, turning her head away. “you’re holding up, right?”

you nod, “i am. i feel great, i feel fine, i feel perfect. there’s no need to worry about me okay? i’m right here,” you reassure him with a smile. “now, where’s the baked spaghetti i was promised?”

you spend the rest of the night spending it with your family - or your mother, travis, and mia for that matter as dylan seems to avoid you at every cost and addie got put down to bed. but you still wouldn’t trade that time for the world. you had an entire summer to make up for too many lost years with your family. 

the next morning you wake up feeling more energized than you had thought - it hadn’t even been twelve hours since you had gotten home and you were already feeling a million times better than you had when you were in california. but it was monday morning, you had slept in until 9am instead of your strict 7am wake up call, and you were feeling amazing. 

after a few minutes of scrolling aimlessly through your phone and responding to texts - one being from andie, saying something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make breakfast anymore - your stomach begins to growl and you decide to go and get breakfast. you push yourself out of your bed, taking a moment to enjoy the view from your bedroom window you never got sick of and you for sure missed, before you were heading downstairs. 

but you freeze in your tracks at the sight of a brunette boy in your kitchen, the refrigerator door wide open as he searches for something. you don’t know what to do. so you clear your throat, and immediately he’s turning to face you. 

“who the hell are you?” you ask, your eyes still wide. “and why are you in my house?” 

“your house?” the boy asks, looking puzzled. “oh so you’re - oh, okay. uh, i’m trevor. i babysit your brother and sister during the summer.” the brunette boy sticks his hand out for you to shake. “trevor. trevor zegras.”

you grab his hand. “y/n, y/n l/n.” you respond, letting your hand fall right back to your side. “uh, how long have you been babysitting addie and dylan?”

trevor shrugs, leaning back on the island in the kitchen while taking a sip from his water bottle. “probably like four, five years now? they love me, not to brag or anything.” trevor flashes you a teasing smile and you can’t help but to roll your eyes playfully at him.

“yeah, makes sense. i’ve lived in california for the past five years with my aunt, so.” now it’s your turn to shrug your shoulders. “uh, if you have the kids, do you mind if i go upstairs?” 

trevor shakes his head, “not at all. your parents wanted you to have it easy when you got home and i’m supposed to help with that. just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

you give him a weird look, already assuming he may have known a bit more information than what you would have liked. “yeah, i will. thanks trevor.”

you offer trevor a sweet smile and he gives you a head nod before you turn around and head back up to your bedroom without getting the glass of water you came down for. with a sigh, your eyes fall on the white acoustic guitar that was sitting on a stand in the corner of your room. you have a mental debate with yourself before you finally huff out a sigh and walk over, grabbing it by the neck and grabbing the leather journal that was on your nightstand. you grab the pen from the cup on your vanity and sit down on the plush bean bag in the corner of your room.

“okay, you can do this,” you mumble to yourself, your fingers fumbling around on the fretboard before you finally strum out an e minor chord. it had been nearly a month and a half since you had even looked at your guitar, and the last thing you expected to do in the first few weeks you were in nantucket was to attempt to song write.

you try to strum out a quick melody, and once you deem it somewhat decent, you flip through the pages of your song book, flipping past all of the songs you started but never finished to a fresh new page. you jot down the few chords and attempt to continue. but just like the past few months, you hit another wall.

“ugh!” you groan dramatically and fall back onto the fuzz of the bean bag chair. you run your hands over your face, letting out a sigh. “what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me!”

you lay like that for a few more moments until you feel your phone ding from your nightstand. you let out another heavy sigh before pushing yourself up and grabbing your phone off your bed.

-

hope wilson: Hey kiddo just checking in on how things were going at home. Staying hydrated? Well rested? Love you.

y/n: just woke up from a nap, i’ve been up since like 6 this morning. but yes i’ve been drinking tons of water and i’ve already pulled out my book to try and write. nothing. i love you too hope, i miss you already

hope wilson: What did I tell you Y/n M/n L/n? I thought I forbid you from songwriting for at least a month. You’re supposed to be relaxing. I’ll send someone to check up on you if I have to. 

y/n: i just wanted to see if i could get anything out! the answer is no. i can’t. also, there’s a boy here, his name is trevor, and apparently he babysits my siblings over the summers and he’s still around so i’m not stressed out trying to watch the kids while my parents are working

hope wilson: Well keep your head up please honey. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all. Love you.

y/n: i’ll update you later tonight. love you more

-

you’re about to lock your phone when instead, the door to your bedroom flies open and in comes barreling your five year old little sister. “y/n/n!” she giggles, her arms out wide as she belly flops onto your bed, a complete giggly mess. 

“mia,” you hear trevor grumble and he’s then standing in the doorway of your room, frozen in his tracks unsure if he could come in. “i’m sorry, y/n. she heard when you came downstairs and i tried to make her stay but she came running up.”

“it’s okay, really trevor,” you reassure and flash him a smile, gesturing for him to come into your room. your hands then go underneath mia’s arms to lift her onto your lap. “what are you up to, pretty girl?”

mia giggles, her head pressing into your chest before she looks up at you. “can we play? pwease?” she opens her eyes wide and juts her bottom lip out, and there’s absolutely no way that you can say no to that face.

“mia, y/n needs to rest. she had a long day yesterday and i’m sure she’s exhausted,” trevor looks up at you, waiting for your agreement that never came. 

“no trevor, it’s okay. i don’t mind. i want to spend time with her, and addie, and dylan. i’ve maybe seen addie three times. mia probably a dozen. you don’t have to worry about it, really,” you try to reassure trevor, but a part of him still seems to be apprehensive.

“it’s just -” trevor cuts himself off with a sigh. “your parents just want you to not have to worry this summer and i promised them i’d make sure the kids were off your back.”

you smile, standing up from your bed and picking up mia as you did so. “i promise, it’s okay and it’s not bothersome whatsoever, now let's go downstairs, right pretty girl?”

in response mia just giggles, her head resting on your shoulder as she starts to talk some nonsense into your ear that she might just be saying to trevor. trevor follows the two of you out of your room, closing your bedroom door behind you. you walk downstairs, and there at the bottom of the steps addie stands, a puppy dog look on her face.

“trevy!” she cries out to the best of her ability, the pacifier in her mouth making her mumble some of her words. you look over your shoulder at the brunette boy who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“trevy?” you half-smirk to yourself at him. trevor shrugs. “that’s cute.”

“trevy, uppy, uppy,” the toddler continues to chant, her arms raised waiting for trevor to pick her up, her baby blanket clutched in her tiny fist. once trevor reaches the bottom of the steps he scoops her up and sets her on his hip, his arm wrapped around her securing her in her place. 

“where’s dylan?” you ask, peering around the corner to the kitchen where the eleven year old was nowhere in sight. 

“probably annoyed at me that i left him in the middle of our chel game,” trevor mumbles, starting to b-line his way to the living room like he owns the place, but you stop in your tracks.

your eyebrows furrow as you place mia onto her own feet, “your what?”

“our chel game.” he answers like it’s nothing, and you’re left to follow him into your living room where sure enough the brunette boy is sitting fumbling with the ps4 controller in his hand. 

“it’s about time,” dylan shoots trevor a glare, but trevor smiles instead of making a face back at him. “i was ready to start the game and keep scoring on you. we both know you’re not that good anyway.”

trevor looks taken aback at the comment from your little brother, and it looks like it takes him a few seconds to recover from that blow. “well uh, wow. okay dyl. i see how it is,” trevor mumbles as he sits down on the couch placing addie in his lap, wrapping his arms around the toddler and about to grab the controller before dylan stops him once more.

“i want ice cream,” dylan announces, placing his controller on the coffee table. “can we go get ice cream, trevor?”

“um,” trevor mumbles, looking over at you. “i don’t know, dyl. maybe tomorrow?” he suggests.

dylan’s eyebrows furrow in, and he crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at trevor. “why not?” he whines.

in trevor’s lap, addie’s head tilts to the side. “trevy doesn’t like ice cweam!” she exclaims, a small giggle leaving her lips. your mouth drops open. 

“what? no way, we’re going now. let’s go,” you announce, causing dylan to cheer. trevor huffs, but nonetheless he still gets up from his seat and he picks addie up. you walk over to the wall hook and grab you floral lanyard that had your wallet attached to it. “what are you waiting for, trevor?”

trevor shakes his head with a smile, and with his free hand he sticks his hand out for mia to grab. she silently follows along with trevor, and dylan is already three feet out the door ahead of you all. 

“it’s too gorgeous of a day for you two to be playing video games all day inside. plus i haven’t been here in forever and i’ve been dying to go to jack and charlie’s for forever,” you can’t help but grin. going to jack and charlie’s had to of been one of your favorite memories growing up. you went at least two times a week whenever you were staying at the beach house and you’d always walk there with your mom, travis, and dylan.

“can’t say i don’t disagree with you, y/n/n,” trevor smiles over at you and he grabs the sunglasses that were tucked into the collar of his t-shirt to put them over his eyes. he sets addie down onto the concrete on her own two feet but holds her right hand leaving you to hold your hand out for her to take yours. at first, she’s hesitant, but addie reaches up and grabs your hand with a giggle. 

mia and dylan are walking just ahead of the two of you only by a few feet. “so, how old are you, trevor?” you ask, glancing over at him and his gaze is set forward. 

“eighteen. what about you?” now it’s his turn to look over at you, and you’re trying to keep your gaze set forward, biting your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

“seventeen.” you answered simply. the two of you then fall into a comfortable silence walking towards the cute beach shack that was jack and charlie’s. mia is skipping happily, dylan is walking in silence, and addie is swinging whenever you and trevor lift your arms.

“trevy,” addie then begins to whine and she drops your hand, frozen in her spot. “uppy, uppy pwease, trevy.”

trevor lets out a sigh before leaning down and picking addie up once more. “she hates walking, i swear. every time we go for a walk, minutes in i end up holding her. but i guess i’m not complaining.” 

“i wouldn’t complain if i were you, trevor,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. your eyes land on your little brother. “hey dyl, how’s hockey going? still a goalie, right?”

dylan tosses you a look over his shoulder, one of pure disgust as his nose scrunches up creating creases in his forehead. “no. i’m a forward now, like trevor.” 

you see trevor smile softly out of the corner of your eye and it’s taking everything in you not to have a smart-ass remark at your younger brother. “oh yeah?” you ask, voice raising a few octaves. “i didn’t know you played hockey, trevor.” 

“well there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, y/n,” trevor chuckles. “i’m going to boston college this fall and playing with them.”

“so you’ve got to be really good, right? you committed?” trevor nods. 

“he committed when he was sixteen!” dylan pipes up, and it seems like for the first time of the day there’s a smile on his face. “i’m gonna be like trevor. i wanna commit at sixteen, too.” 

you laugh, not at dylan, but at the fact he had dreams that big. “buddy, you’re eleven. you only have five years.”

and just like that, the smile on his face is gone again. “yeah well, i’ve gotten really good. you’d know that if you were here. but you’re not.” he shoots at you, and immediately you’re recoiling and trying to pretend that that wasn’t a jab straight to the heart. 

trevor notices your immediate change in demeanor. “hey, dylan that wasn’t nice. your sister can’t help it if she’s busy, just like when i’m busy and can’t go to your games.”

“you go to his games?” your voice cracks, but you cover it up quickly with a cough. “i mean, that’s really cool. thank you trevor.”

trevor shrugs, “i try to. for the past two years i’ve spent the year playing up in michigan, but when i come home i try to go to a game or two.” 

you nod slightly as the five of you walk right into the ice cream parlor. mia squeals, running right up to the glass that covers the ice cream. “trevy look! they have wocky woad!” she giggles, and addie claps her hands not full understanding, but acting like she did. 

“what are you gonna get, bud?” you ask, placing your hand on dylan’s back, but he shrugs it off and walks up to the glass like mia had. 

“y/n-” trevor begins, but you quickly cut him off. 

“it’s okay, trevor,” you sigh, scanning the chalkboard for the specials of the day and all the different options you could choose from. you inhale a deep breath before looking over at him. “what do you think you’re gonna get?”

“no, i think i’m good. hockey diet, you know? i normally try to stay away from this stuff,” you can’t help but pout at him. 

“you’re no fun, you know that? live a little, trev,” you crack a smile, nudging your elbow into his side but careful to not hit addie. “what about you, addie girl? what do you want babes?” 

addie makes a disapproving noise. “we usually end up getting her a baby sized chocolate,” trevor explains for the three year old. “and it looks like those two are already ready to order.”

you let out a sigh seeing mia and dylan already telling their order to the cashier working the register. dylan then turns to look over at the two of you. 

“i’ll just have two scoops of nutella chocolate, please,” you request followed by a sweet smile. then you turn to trevor. “last chance, trevor. and it’s on me.”

trevor goes to open his mouth, but the blonde haired three year old in his arms speaks for him. “wocky woad!” she recites from earlier, followed by a clap of her hands. “wocky road, wocky woad!”

you smile, your eyes going from addie to trevor’s blushing cheeks before going back to the cashier. “and two scoops of rocky road, and then chocolate in a baby cup.” the cashier nods and he turns around to start grabbing cups and cones.

“well i guess i’m eating ice cream now,” trevor chuckles as he adjusts addie in his arms. she then starts to play with the fabric of his shirt and babbling about something.

“yes you are,” you grin and trevor tries to give you a deceiving look, but it doesn’t seem to work on him. “oh come on, trevor. it’s not that big of a deal, it won’t kill you to eat it once.”

“it might. you never know, y/n.” you playfully roll your eyes at trevor and his ridiculousness. “i’m joking, i’m joking. i’ll just have to work out a bit more this week.”

“like these three aren’t enough exercise for you?” you ask, looking over at trevor. at this point addie has both of her hands on trevor’s cheeks, her mouth dropped open in an ‘o’, a fascinated look on her face like she was mesmerized.

“addie girl, what are you-?” trevor starts to ask as he tries  to pull his face away from her hands. 

“shh, trevy,” addie scolds, her hands pressing into his cheeks and squishing them together. you start laughing at the look on trevor’s face, and soon he’s laughing along with you and addie continues giggling like always. 

you shake your head with a smile at the two of them. addie pulls her hands away from trevor’s face and wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into his neck. the cashier comes back with all five orders of your ice cream. you see trevor dig into his pocket for his wallet, but you beat him in opening yours and handing the cashier your card. 

“y/n, you-”

you cut him off, “yes i did, trev. it’s not that big of a deal, i promise. this is the least i can do for you trust me.”

trevor lets out a sigh. mia and dylan grab their cups of ice cream and you pass trevor his and then addie’s. you grab a few napkins and stuff them in the pocket of your shorts since you’re a hundred and ten percent positive that one of the kids will end up with ice cream all over their face. 

“what do you guys wanna do now?” you ask, taking a spoonful of your ice cream and bringing it to your lips as the five of you walk out of the ice cream parlor. 

mia gasps, “can we go to the beach? we don’t have to go swimming because it’s late but i just wanna go.” she pleads, looking up at you and then looking at trevor.

“i don’t see why not,” you say and besides you trevor agrees. then you all are walking in the direction of jetties beach, addie stumbling besides you and trevor as she walks eating her ice cream. 

the walk doesn’t take all that long, and before you know it you’re about to walk onto the boardwalk that leads to the stand. you slip your sandals off and you hold them in your hand, but trevor holds his hand out to take them.

“trevor, you don’t have to. i’m capable of holding my own shoes,” you laugh, slowly handing your sandals to the brown haired boy. “thank you.”

trevor also helps addie take off her small flip flops and he holds them as well along with his own sandals. mia and dylan are already long gone, the two of them bolting down the walkway and towards the water. you, trevor, and of course addie find a suitable spot that you can sit and watch your two siblings and you sit down on the sand. addie climbs right into trevor’s lap and continues to eat her ice cream.

your gaze lands on mia and dylan who are splashing each other with their feet down in the ocean. you can’t help but smile, even if dylan seemed to think you were the worst person in the world, and mia barely remembered who you were.

“y/n,” trevor mumbles, and you turn to look at him, the slight breeze blowing your hair back ever so slightly. “i’m sorry. i hope you’re okay that i’m so close to them.”

you shake your head, “trevor, it’s okay, if anything, i’m glad that they have someone like you in their lives. someone that’ll go to their games, and hang out with them and do all the sibling things i miss out on all the time. i just - thank you.”

“it’s no problem y/n, i promise you that. i love spending time with them, my sisters don’t like being around me like yours do. and addie? god, she’s adorable. i’m her own personal jungle gym it feels like.” 

you laugh, catching addie’s attention and she starts giggling because she doesn’t know any better. “yeah, that’s how it seems to be. i wish i could be in her life more, i don’t even think she realizes i’m her sister. even if i’m half, i’m still her sister.” 

“how come you don’t come home more often then?” trevor asks, and he leans over with his spoon to grab a spoonful of your ice cream. 

“hey!” you laugh, and in response you get a sneaky smile from trevor. you reach over and take a spoonful of his before you respond to him. “my schedule just doesn’t allow it, you know? school, important things i have to do, my aunt doesn’t really want me leaving all that much and i don’t wanna mess up anyone’s lives here.” 

“yeah, i think i get what you’re trying to say.” trevor says and the two of you turn to look out for mia and dylan. “do you wanna go down to the water?” 

you nod as you finish the last spoonful of your ice cream. trevor holds his hand out and you place it in the palm of his hand and he puts it right next to your shoes that lay in the sand. the three of you stand up, and immediately you notice the chocolate ice cream all over addie’s face. 

“oh addie, babe,” you mumble and grab a napkin out from your pocket. you go to rub the ice cream off her lips, but she turns her cheek. you can feel your heart drop in your chest. 

addie shakes her head, “no. want twevy.” you frown and look up at trevor who looks down at you pitifully. you hand him the napkin and he crouches down to addie’s height to wipe it off. once all of the ice cream residue is off, he sticks the napkin in his pocket and grabs addie’s hand.

you cross your arms over your chest and the three of you walk down, the sand squishing between your toes as you walk closer and closer to the water. 

“y/n/n!” mia giggles. “come here, come here!” 

you smile, walking into the water ankle deep to where dylan and mia were. you look over your shoulder, “addie, come here love.” 

addie shakes her head and turns to hide her face into trevor’s thigh. you see trevor sigh and he crouches down and tries to talk to her, but she continues to shake her head. “i’m sorry.” he mouths to you and you shrug, turning your attention to mia who’s busy splashing dylan. 

mia kicks her foot, splashing water onto you and you giggle. “hey!” you laugh, reciprocating the action and splashing mia as well. the two of you go back and forth until dylan decides to splash you as well, but his kick is more powerful and he nearly drenches you. he starts laughing and starts to run back towards the land where trevor is sitting with addie in between his legs. “come here you little monster!”

you’re faster than dylan and his short legs, so you managed to catch up to him and wrap your arms around him from behind, making sure to try and get him wet as well. “this is so mean!” dylan yells, but he’s laughing before you know it and you can’t help but grin like a fool. it’s like he’s starting to come around.

trevor smiles at the semi sweet interaction between you and your brother. “are you ready to go, you guys?”

“what, you don't want a hug too, trevor?” you tease with a mischievous smile. trevor’s eyes go wide and in an instant he’s picking up addie and starting to run away from you. “get back here you giant goof!”

you hear trevor laugh as he continues to run away from you, but eventually he runs far enough that he stops and turns around, heaving out a sigh. “alright, fine, but only because we need to get back to those two.” he gestures with his free hand back to where mia and dylan are sitting in the stand.

you grin and wrap your arms around trevor, staying there for a few seconds before you pull back. sure enough there’s multiple wet spots on his gray t-shirt. “see? wasn’t so bad.”

“yeah, yeah,” trevor mumbles with a smile. “okay. let’s head back to the house, yeah?”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes #spencer knight #anaheim ducks #boston university #boston university hockey

[stereotvpes]

class fight.

summary: jason dean is a complication for heather chandler. a nuisance. a problem. she cannot lose veronica to him. she needs to regain control.

but plans can always backfire.

warnings: graphic violence, major character death

A/N: hi!! this is my first fic, i hope everyone enjoys it!

Hanging out with the Heathers was never Veronica’s favourite thing to do.

Sure, they were her friends, but she didn’t really like them all that much. When she walked with them, it was like putting on a different skin. Veronica could never fully be herself: she’d run the risk of being Heather Chandler’s verbal punching bag for the week. Chandler was fierce and predatory, like a hawk, or a lion. She had sharp, watchful eyes that seemed to criticize her every move, never afraid to bite. God forbid Veronica befriended anyone outside of Chandler’s little circle.

But with JD, it was different, like a teenager rebelling against a parent. With JD, Veronica could push aside the petty things in life, like what skirt Nancy Stevens was wearing or how there was another college party next week. He gave her the courage to do things she’d never had the guts to. She had deep conversations with him, talking about the stars and what the future would look like until she fell asleep in his arms, his coat smelling like cigarettes and gunpowder.

 When Heather Chandler began to notice that Veronica was slowly drifting away from her group, a wave of fury washed over her. What did Veronica see in that loser, anyway?

Chandler couldn’t really explain why she was so upset at the fact. Maybe it was because Veronica said she had sworn off high school boys, and that was a lie. Or maybe it was something deeper— Veronica’s complete indifference of what the school thought of her, how Chandler felt almost jealous that she could never be Veronica Sawyer. Chandler had spent ages trying to impress Veronica, but to no avail. So how come this little twerp managed to catch her eye in a day?

 She had to put it to an end.

It started off with simple daydreams— poisoning Jason Dean and hiding his body where he’d never be found, Veronica crawling back to her looking to be comforted. Or maybe burning him alive in one of his father’s abandoned construction sites, and being a shoulder for Ronnie to cry on.

Then, one day, when she came back from school, she grabbed the address book from the top of her dresser and flipped through it casually, as if she planned to visit an old friend. His address was easy enough to find— who didn’t know Big Bud Dean’s Construction? Her parents weren’t home, which was expected, so Chandler headed out again after printing out the address carefully in her swirly handwriting on a piece of red stationary. 

When she knocked at the door it swung open almost immediately, JD standing at the door with a smug look on his face and motor oil smeared on his shirt.

“Well, well, well,” he said, giving a half-bow. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Heather... Duke, is it?”

“Chandler, thank you very much,” Heather sniffed, only slightly offended. She suspected he got her name wrong on purpose. There wasn’t a person at school who didn’t know who she was. “Can I come in?”

“Why, of course,” said JD, unusually courteous. He opened the door wider and walked her into the living room, where a TV spoke in muted tones and a motorcycle wheel covered in motor oil sat on the coffee table. “What brings the occasion?”

Shit. Shit! What was she doing? She had no plan, not even a weapon! Chandler could feel herself breaking into a cold sweat.

Regaining her composure, she said, “It’s about Veronica. We... need to talk.”

“Ronnie, huh? What’s the problem? Is she spending a little too much time away from the kingdom?”

So he was mocking her! Hearing Veronica’s nickname come from his mouth made the anger bubble up inside her. She started to narrow her eyes— then stopped, and smiled sweetly at him.

“Actually... could I get a glass of water? It’s been so dry out, I can almost feel myself being fossilized.”

“Sure, the glasses are in the kitchen, second cupboard to the left.” JD turned away from her, focusing on the motorcycle wheel again.

Chandler ventured through the living room to the kitchen, trying to ignore a picture of a young JD and his parents on a nearby shelf. She filled a glass with water, gulped it down, and took a deep breath. This was it. She was going to be rid of him once and for all.

She quietly pulled open drawers until she found what she was really looking for: a kitchen knife. Holding it behind her back, she called, “Hey, JD, do you think you could give me a hand? I can’t seem to find the glasses anywhere... and you’re the host, I mean— shouldn’t you be getting me water?”

Chandler could hear JD give a huff of annoyance, tools clanking as he set them down on the coffee table. He walked in, wiping his hands on his shirt, seeing the glass on the kitchen counter. He stopped, raising his eyebrows at Chandler with irritation.

“Looks to me like you found them just f-“

Chandler lunged at him with the knife, aiming for his stomach. JD’s eyes widened in surprise, but his demeanor hardened again when he caught her arm just in time. She struggled against it, desperately trying to nick him or at least scare him bad enough that he would leave Veronica alone.

No such luck. JD was a lot stronger than someone who looked so lanky would seem. They were caught in a silent gridlock. As one arm held hers with the knife, something cold pressed against her temple. Chandler looked up in horror to see the same pistol that JD had used a few days ago in the cafeteria against her forehead. Even if it was filled with blanks last time, she wasn’t taking any risks.

As she relaxed, so did JD— only slightly. Instead of looking angry, he had an emotion on his face that made him look much scarier: exhilaration.

“Alright,” he panted, stepping away, still pointing the gun at her. “This isn’t about Veronica, is it?”

“Yes, it is,” Chandler insisted through gritted teeth, still gripping the handle of the knife tightly and pointing it at him. “I want you to break up with her. If you’re even dating her at all. She doesn’t belong with someone like you.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“She said it herself before you got here,” Chandler spat venomously. “That she’d given up on high school boys. She should be at college keggers with me, not going on long walks at the beach with you.”

Chandler couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. This kid had a gun pointed at her, and she was the one making demands. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“You’re... jealous?” JD raised an eyebrow, half amused and half suspicious.

“I’m not jealous— I’m doing what’s best for her. Which is getting rid of you.”

JD chuckled lightly, no mirth in his eyes.

“Sure, okay. Look, why don’t we make a deal?” His hand was steady on his gun, as if he’d done this a million times before.

“Like what?” Chandler’s voice shook slightly.

“I’ll pretend that all this never happened, and let you leave, but only on two conditions: if you continue to let Veronica spend time with me, and you forget all this happened, too. Hell, I’ll even make sure she still has lunch with your little clique. Deal?”

There was no doubt in JD’s voice that he was going to get what he wanted, deal or not. Chandler lowered the knife a slight increment.

“Deal,” she said, feeling as if she had just sold her soul to the Devil himself.

And just like that, JD looked normal again. Almost.

“Great!” he said. “I’ll show you out now.” He guided her out of the house with the pistol pointed at her. “And you can leave the knife on the counter— unless you plan on making some lunch.” He grinned at his own joke. “Goodbye, Heather Chandler,” he said, shutting the door in her face.

Chandler walked home stunned, sure he would keep his promise, but unsure of what was to come.

As soon as he shut the door, JD began to pace around the room. He couldn’t fathom what possibly could’ve driven that girl to try to murder him. It wasn’t friendship, that was for sure. Unless... unless.

Unless she felt the same way about Veronica as he did.

The realization hit him fast, disgust balling up his fists. Stupid. Stupid! He didn’t want another body on his hands, but he knew he should’ve killed her right then in his kitchen. There was no way he and Chandler would be able to coexist in peace if she felt the same way about her that he did.

 He was going to have to break their deal.

 The weeks went by smoothly as JD created his plan, with Chandler truly seeming to have forgotten their unusual meeting and Veronica completely oblivious. He was much more prepared than Chandler. All he had to do was wait for an opportunity to jump.

It finally came the morning after one of Veronica’s rendezvous at a college party. JD had seen the lights on in her room and crawled in through the window, listening to her rave about how she wanted Heather Chandler out of her life.

It felt like it was too good to be true to JD, as if it was a sign from God that his plan was ready to be put in action.

So, the morning after, he tagged along with Veronica to check up on Chandler.

 When Chandler heard footsteps inside her house, fear rocketed through her. Was JD finally here to finish her off? She had had more than a few sleepless nights, with nightmares of Jason Dean breaking into her house and strangling her or shooting her through the forehead (with her corpse looking like a mess!). But she heard Veronica’s voice laughing at his, so she relaxed and feigned sleep. He wouldn’t try anything with her around.

So when JD brought the cup into the room, she assumed that it was that awful concoction of milk and orange juice they were giggling at in her kitchen. When she saw it was blue, she rolled her eyes, thinking they found some food dye to mess with her. She wasn’t going to let JD make a fool out of her again, especially in front of Veronica, so in one last attempt to prove herself to Veronica, she downed the cup in one go.

Immediately after she swallowed a gulp, bitterness stung and burned her throat. She felt like her throat was closing up on her, and she dropped the cup, grabbing at her throat frantically and trying to say something, anything. This is it, she thought. This is when I die.

Struggling to breathe, she choked out, “Corn... nuts,” and blacked out, falling onto the glass table as the darkness engulfed her.

Veronica stood in silent shock, hands going over her mouth. “I just killed my best friend,” she said shakily.

“And your worst enemy,” JD added.

As they slowly pieced together what to do, with JD feigning surprise and shock, she forged the note and turned to leave the house. JD had already left, waiting impatiently for her in the car. But right before she left, something on Chandler’s vanity dresser caught her eye. It was a crumpled-up note, the stationary the same as the one Veronica used to write Chandler’s suicide note with. She unfolded it, smoothing out the creases.

JD’s address was printed on the first line of the paper in Chandler’s discernible flowery handwriting. Veronica frowned in confusion. She looked at JD, out of his line of sight from the car, and pocketed the note.

She never mentioned it to JD, or anyone else, after that day.

Veronica turned to look at Heather Chandler’s lifeless body on the shag carpet. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and fled out of the house.

#fic #heathers fic #heathers fanfic #jd x veronica #heather chandler x veronica sawyer #veronica sawyer #heather chandler #jd #jason dean x veronica #jason dean #fanfiction #heathers #yandere #yandere!chandler #yandere!jd #chandler x veronica #heather duke

[goalcaufield]

someone like you - spencer knight

chapter one

wc: 6161

you keep your head down as you and your management team walk through the crowd of people that had gathered outside of the airport once word got out you were finally taking a break from the music industry. it wasn’t going to be very long - just the summer, so you had time to recoup and still spend your summer as an actual teenager. and without people watching and documenting your every single move.

“y/n, hurry up!” your manager, hope, yells, yanking roughly on your arm to keep you moving. because god forbid if you stopped for one second, you’d be trampled on the ground. 

but it’s hard. you’ve got girls of all ages -- eight to twenty-something -- yelling, trying to get your attention for a quick selfie or an autograph, even if it had to be on their arm. sometimes you felt awful, but sometimes you wished they would understand that you just needed a break. you were exhausted. you were physically and mentally drained.

you had been in the spotlight since you were twelve years old and one of your singing videos had gone viral. since then, you signed with a record label in los angeles, got an agent, headlined for taylor swift, and had your own tour. all before the age of seventeen. you weren’t sure how all of this happened but somehow it did. and while sometimes it got exhausting, like right now and all you want is to be in your own home in the arms of your mother, you wouldn’t change it for the world.

once you and your team get into the airport you’re finally able to let out a breath of relief. the sunglasses that had been covering your eyes, not just protecting them from the sun but also from the flash from the paparazzi cameras, were now sitting on top of your head.

“that’s the biggest crowd we’ve had in a while,” your fashion stylist, sabrina, grumbles as she straightens out her outfit. “it’s ridiculous. we announced the break yesterday, how did they know she was leaving today?”

“they want their last glance at her before she disappears, isn’t that right, kid?” hope nudges you and you give her a soft smile. she gives you a tight lipped smile. she was the first one to realize you were worn out and she was the one that had suggested you taking a break in the first place. “the paps just want to get their last bucks in before they can’t get any of her, that’s all.”

caitlyn glances down at her watch and grimaces, “alright, y/n/n. we’ve gotta get a move on. your jet is scheduled to leave in twenty minutes, let’s go.” 

you nod your head at your agent, turning to the members of your team that had come for your little send off. “thank you all, and i can’t stress it enough, for absolutely everything. you’ve all been here since i was fourteen and have stuck by me since then and you’ve all made me the girl i am today. but i need this break more than anything. no paparazzi. no screaming fans. no one asking me for autographs. back at home i’m just me. and i want to be just me again.”

you’re choking up by the end of your short speech, and before the tears can fall and can ruin the makeup kylie had spent nearly an hour perfecting you wipe them away. 

“oh sweetheart,” hope mumbles and quickly hugs you. “i love you honey, you know that. you’re the daughter i never had. i don’t want you to turn out like the rest of them, and we all know you need this more than anything.”

you nod against her shoulder, too afraid to speak and you to end up crying. so you quickly say your goodbyes to everyone before caitlyn has your arm linked in hers and she’s walking you towards where your plane was waiting for you. 

“are you sure you’re gonna be okay, y/n?” caitlyn asks quietly, glancing over at you. “it’s okay to tell me if you’re not, you know.”

you shrug. “i’m not sure yet. i’m absolutely exhausted. i haven’t been able to write a good song in months, or think straight, or have a single second to myself. i just don’t want to come back and everyone has forgotten about me by then.”

caitlyn stops you both in the middle of the terminal, her stepping out in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders forcing you to look at her. “y/n l/n, no one is going to forget you. you’re america’s sweetheart! that one took the entire world by storm from her singing the national anthem at a patriots game. that headlined with her idol. the one that sold out madison square garden. honey, they couldn’t forget you even if they tried.”

you crack a smile. “thanks, cait. now let’s go, okay? i’ve got a puppy to pet. my little sisters and brother. my momma, travis. i’m excited. i’m ready to be a normal teenager.”

“there she is.”

__________________________

stepping off the shuttle bus in nantucket is like a breath of fresh air that’s enough to make you want to cry tears of joy. the ferry ride was calming, sitting and watching the waves rise and fall just like you had on the first day of summer and the last getting ready to go back to greenwich before fame struck. it was nostalgic, sitting on the ferry going back to the place you loved to call your home.

“y/n l/n is that you?” you could recognize that voice from anywhere. you turn on your heels quickly to see the curly blonde haired girl that was one of your best friends on the island.

“andie!” you shout, your eyes going wide. getting a few looks from people walking on the streets. but it wasn’t like they didn’t know who you were - you knew practically everyone on this island and they knew you. but to them? you were still the sweet little twelve year old girl you were when you left. 

andie and you both sprint towards each other, and when your bodies collide you wrap your arms around her waist, the two of you rocking back and forth as you feel the love bubble up in your chest. “god, i missed you so much, y/n/n. why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” andie pulls away just enough to look at your face.

“it all happened quickly,” you explain. “hope suggested it to me after an incident. i’ll explain it over coffee at handlebar tomorrow morning, okay? i have to get home, my mom is expecting me any minute now and i can’t keep her waiting anymore, okay?”

andie nods, knowing the relationship you had with your loving mother. “got it. text me, y/n/n. but i’ll see you tomorrow.”

with one last hug you’re headed back into the direction of your summer beach house. you let your feet guide you to the house, a large white house with plenty of decks, windows, and sunlight. the house you spent every summer in up until you were twelve years old. since then, you had always been in california with the exception of your headline tour and your first personal tour. 

all of your belongings had been shipped here, and according to the text from your mother you were lucky that they had arrived earlier today. so the second you walked through that door? you were a normal teenager. that’s what everyone on the island thought of you as and that’s what your family always treated you as.

except you never even have to walk up to the front door. your mother is a step ahead of you - she throws the front door open and runs the few feet towards you to close the gap before her arms are thrown around you. “hi mama,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around her torso. 

“y/n, honey,” she pulls back, her hands cupping your cheeks before she gives you a sad smile. “how are you doing, sweetheart? hope kept me updated - i’m so sorry we weren’t able to make it out there it’s just that-”

“you just couldn’t get out there. i understand, mom. i know you were trying everything you could and it just wasn’t working.” your mother gives you a tight lipped smile, grateful that you had understood. 

“alright, hon. come in. mia has been going on and on about seeing you since we told them you were coming home.” your mother leads you back into the house, where travis, your step father, stood holding your three year old half sister, addie with a smile. mia, your other half sister, comes running from the living room.

“hey hon,” travis smiles, and he goes in for a hug, but before he can mia wraps her arms around you.

“y/n!” mia squeals, her feet alternating as she patters them against the floor in excitement. “i missed you. dylan missed you, too. but he won’t say that.”

you look over travis’ shoulder to see your only fully biological sibling, your eleven year old brother, dylan. he’s got a grimace on his face and his arms are crossed over your chest. to say the least, that was the expression you expected from him.

“dyl, are you gonna say hi to your sister?” your mother asks, and in response, dylan shakes his head before turning his back to you and marching up the stairs. your mother sighs, “i tried to get him to warm up to the idea of you coming home, y/n/n, but, i’m sure he’ll come around soon, alright? he’s got no choice.”

you nod, trying to mask your hurt with a smile. “okay, mia, your dad needs to hug me too you know,” you laugh, giving an apologetic smile to travis as mia was still latched to your legs. mia lets out an exaggerated sigh before she releases her hold and you get to walk forward to hug travis, addie still in his arms.

“hey kid,” travis smiles, wrapping his free arm around you. addie grimaces, turning her head away. “you’re holding up, right?”

you nod, “i am. i feel great, i feel fine, i feel perfect. there’s no need to worry about me okay? i’m right here,” you reassure him with a smile. “now, where’s the baked spaghetti i was promised?”

you spend the rest of the night spending it with your family - or your mother, travis, and mia for that matter as dylan seems to avoid you at every cost and addie got put down to bed. but you still wouldn’t trade that time for the world. you had an entire summer to make up for too many lost years with your family. 

the next morning you wake up feeling more energized than you had thought - it hadn’t even been twelve hours since you had gotten home and you were already feeling a million times better than you had when you were in california. but it was monday morning, you had slept in until 9am instead of your strict 7am wake up call, and you were feeling amazing. 

after a few minutes of scrolling aimlessly through your phone and responding to texts - one being from andie, saying something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make breakfast anymore - your stomach begins to growl and you decide to go and get breakfast. you push yourself out of your bed, taking a moment to enjoy the view from your bedroom window you never got sick of and you for sure missed, before you were heading downstairs. 

but you freeze in your tracks at the sight of a blonde boy in your kitchen, the refrigerator door wide open as he searches for something. you don’t know what to do. so you clear your throat, and immediately he’s turning to face you. 

“who the hell are you?” you ask, your eyes still wide. “and why are you in my house?” 

“your house?” the boy asks, looking puzzled. “oh so you’re - oh, okay. uh, i’m spencer. i babysit your brother and sister during the summer.” the blonde boy sticks his hand out for you to shake. “spencer. spencer knight.”

you grab his hand. “y/n, y/n l/n.” you respond, letting your hand fall right back to your side. “uh, how long have you been babysitting sadie and dylan?”

spencer shrugs, leaning back on the island in the kitchen while taking a sip from his water bottle. “probably like four, five years now? they love me, not to brag or anything.” spencer flashes you a teasing smile and you can’t help but to roll your eyes playfully at him.

“yeah, makes sense. i’ve lived in california for the past five years with my aunt, so.” now it’s your turn to shrug your shoulders. “uh, if you have the kids, do you mind if i go upstairs?” 

spencer shakes his head, “not at all. your parents wanted you to have it easy when you got home and i’m supposed to help with that. just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

you give him a weird look, already assuming he may have known a bit more information than what you would have liked. “yeah, i will. thanks spencer.”

you offer spencer a sweet smile and he gives you a head nod before you turn around and head back up to your bedroom without getting the glass of water you came down for. with a sigh, your eyes fall on the white acoustic guitar that was sitting on a stand in the corner of your room. you have a mental debate with yourself before you finally huff out a sigh and walk over, grabbing it by the neck and grabbing the leather journal that was on your nightstand. you grab the pen from the cup on your vanity and sit down on the plush bean bag in the corner of your room.

“okay, you can do this,” you mumble to yourself, your fingers fumbling around on the fretboard before you finally strum out an e minor chord. it had been nearly a month and a half since you had even looked at your guitar, and the last thing you expected to do in the first few weeks you were in nantucket was to attempt to song write.

you try to strum out a quick melody, and once you deem it somewhat decent, you flip through the pages of your song book, flipping past all of the songs you started but never finished to a fresh new page. you jot down the few chords and attempt to continue. but just like the past few months, you hit another wall.

“ugh!” you groan dramatically and fall back onto the fuzz of the bean bag chair. you run your hands over your face, letting out a sigh. “what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me, what is wrong with me!”

you lay like that for a few more moments until you feel your phone ding from your nightstand. you let out another heavy sigh before pushing yourself up and grabbing your phone off your bed.

hope wilson: Hey kiddo just checking in on how things were going at home. Staying hydrated? Well rested? Love you.

y/n: just woke up from a nap, i’ve been up since like 6 this morning. but yes i’ve been drinking tons of water and i’ve already pulled out my book to try and write. nothing. i love you too hope, i miss you already

hope wilson: What did I tell you Y/n M/n L/n? I thought I forbid you from songwriting for at least a month. You’re supposed to be relaxing. I’ll send someone to check up on you if I have to. 

y/n: i just wanted to see if i could get anything out! the answer is no. i can’t. also, there’s a boy here, his name is spencer, and apparently he babysits my siblings over the summers and he’s still around so i’m not stressed out trying to watch the kids while my parents are working

hope wilson: Well keep your head up please honey. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all. Love you.

y/n: i’ll update you later tonight. love you more

you’re about to lock your phone when instead, the door to your bedroom flies open and in comes barreling your five year old little sister. “y/n/n!” she giggles, her arms out wide as she belly flops onto your bed, a complete giggly mess. 

“mia,” you hear spencer grumble and he’s then standing in the doorway of your room, frozen in his tracks unsure if he could come in. “i’m sorry, y/n. she heard when you came downstairs and i tried to make her stay but she came running up.”

“it’s okay, really spencer,” you reassure and flash him a smile, gesturing for him to come into your room. your hands then go underneath mia’s arms to lift her onto your lap. “what are you up to, pretty girl?”

mia giggles, her head pressing into your chest before she looks up at you. “can we play? pwease?” she opens her eyes wide and juts her bottom lip out, and there’s absolutely no way that you can say no to that face.

“mia, y/n needs to rest. she had a long day yesterday and i’m sure she’s exhausted,” spencer looks up at you, waiting for your agreement that never came. 

“no spencer, it’s okay. i don’t mind. i want to spend time with her, and addie, and dylan. i’ve maybe seen addie three times. mia probably a dozen. you don’t have to worry about it, really,” you try to reassure spencer, but a part of him still seems to be apprehensive.

“it’s just -” spencer cuts himself off with a sigh. “your parents just want you to not have to worry this summer and i promised them i’d make sure the kids were off your back.”

you smile, standing up from your bed and picking up mia as you did so. “i promise, it’s okay and it’s not bothersome whatsoever, now let's go downstairs, right pretty girl?”

in response mia just giggles, her head resting on your shoulder as she starts to talk some nonsense into your ear that she might just be saying to spencer. spencer follows the two of you out of your room, closing your bedroom door behind you. you walk downstairs, and there at the bottom of the steps addie stands, a puppy dog look on her face.

“spencey!” she cries out to the best of her ability, the pacifier in her mouth making her mumble some of her words. you look over your shoulder at the blonde boy who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“spencey?” you half-smirk to yourself at him. spencer shrugs. “that’s cute.”

“spencey, uppy, uppy,” the toddler continues to chant, her arms raised waiting for spencer to pick her up, her baby blanket clutched in her tiny fist. once spencer reaches the bottom of the steps he scoops her up and sets her on his hip, his arm wrapped around her securing her in her place. 

“where’s dylan?” you ask, peering around the corner to the kitchen where the eleven year old was nowhere in sight. 

“probably annoyed at me that i left him in the middle of our chel game,” spencer mumbles, starting to b-line his way to the living room like he owns the place, but you stop in your tracks.

your eyebrows furrow as you place mia onto her own feet, “your what?”

“our chel game.” he answers like it’s nothing, and you’re left to follow him into your living room where sure enough the brunette boy is sitting fumbling with the ps4 controller in his hand. 

“it’s about time,” dylan shoots spencer a glare, but spencer smiles instead of making a face back at him. “i was ready to start the game and keep scoring on you. we both know you’re not that good anyway.”

spencer looks taken aback at the comment from your little brother, and it looks like it takes him a few seconds to recover from that blow. “well uh, wow. okay dyl. i see how it is,” spencer mumbles as he sits down on the couch placing addie in his lap, wrapping his arms around the toddler and about to grab the controller before dylan stops him once more.

“i want ice cream,” dylan announces, placing his controller on the coffee table. “can we go get ice cream, spencer?”

“um,” spencer mumbles, looking over at you. “i don’t know, dyl. maybe tomorrow?” he suggests.

dylan’s eyebrows furrow in, and he crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at spencer. “why not?” he whines.

in spencer’s lap, addie’s head tilts to the side. “spencey doesn’t like ice cweam!” she exclaims, a small giggle leaving her lips. your mouth drops open. 

“what? no way, we’re going now. let’s go,” you announce, causing dylan to cheer. spencer huffs, but nonetheless he still gets up from his seat and he picks addie up. you walk over to the wall hook and grab you floral lanyard that had your wallet attached to it. “what are you waiting for, spencer?”

spencer shakes his head with a smile, and with his free hand he sticks his hand out for mia to grab. she silently follows along with spencer, and dylan is already three feet out the door ahead of you all. 

“it’s too gorgeous of a day for you two to be playing video games all day inside. plus i haven’t been here in forever and i’ve been dying to go to jack and charlie’s for forever,” you can’t help but grin. going to jack and charlie’s had to of been one of your favorite memories growing up. you went at least two times a week whenever you were staying at the beach house and you’d always walk there with your mom, travis, and dylan.

“can’t say i don’t disagree with you, y/n/n,” spencer smiles over at you and he grabs the sunglasses that were tucked into the collar of his t-shirt to put them over his eyes. he sets addie down onto the concrete on her own two feet but holds her right hand leaving you to hold your hand out for her to take yours. at first, she’s hesitant, but addie reaches up and grabs your hand with a giggle. 

mia and dylan are walking just ahead of the two of you only by a few feet. “so, how old are you, spencer?” you ask, glancing over at him and his gaze is set forward. 

“eighteen. what about you?” now it’s his turn to look over at you, and you’re trying to keep your gaze set forward, biting your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

“seventeen.” you answered simply. the two of you then fall into a comfortable silence walking towards the cute beach shack that was jack and charlie’s. mia is skipping happily, dylan is walking in silence, and addie is swinging whenever you and spencer lift your arms.

“spencey,” addie then begins to whine and she drops your hand, frozen in her spot. “uppy, uppy pwease, spencey.”

spencer lets out a sigh before leaning down and picking addie up once more. “she hates walking, i swear. every time we go for a walk, minutes in i end up holding her. but i guess i’m not complaining.” 

“i wouldn’t complain if i were you, spencer,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. your eyes land on your little brother. “hey dyl, how’s hockey going? still a winger, right?”

dylan tosses you a look over his shoulder, one of pure disgust as his nose scrunches up creating creases in his forehead. “no. i’m a goalie now, like spencer.” 

you see spencer smile softly out of the corner of your eye and it’s taking everything in you not to have a smart-ass remark at your younger brother. “oh yeah?” you ask, voice raising a few octaves. “i didn’t know you played hockey, spencer.” 

“well there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, y/n,” spencer chuckles. “i’m going to boston college this fall and playing with them.”

“so you’ve got to be really good, right? you committed?” spencer nods. 

“he committed when he was fourteen!” dylan pipes up, and it seems like for the first time of the day there’s a smile on his face. “i’m gonna be like spencer. i wanna commit at fourteen, too.” 

you laugh, not at dylan, but at the fact he had dreams that big. “buddy, you’re eleven. you only have three years.”

and just like that, the smile on his face is gone again. “yeah well, i’ve gotten really good. you’d know that if you were here. but you’re not.” he shoots at you, and immediately you’re recoiling and trying to pretend that that wasn’t a jab straight to the heart. 

spencer notices your immediate change in demeanor. “hey, dylan that wasn’t nice. your sister can’t help it if she’s busy, just like when i’m busy and can’t go to your games.”

“you go to his games?” your voice cracks, but you cover it up quickly with a cough. “i mean, that’s really cool. thank you spencer.”

spencer shrugs, “i try to. for the past two years i’ve spent the year playing up in michigan, but when i come home i try to go to a game or two.” 

you nod slightly as the five of you walk right into the ice cream parlor. mia squeals, running right up to the glass that covers the ice cream. “spencey look! they have wocky woad!” she giggles, and addie claps her hands not full understanding, but acting like she did. 

“what are you gonna get, bud?” you ask, placing your hand on dylan’s back, but he shrugs it off and walks up to the glass like mia had. 

“y/n-” spencer begins, but you quickly cut him off. 

“it’s okay, spencer,” you sigh, scanning the chalkboard for the specials of the day and all the different options you could choose from. you inhale a deep breath before looking over at him. “what do you think you’re gonna get?”

“no, i think i’m good. hockey diet, you know? i normally try to stay away from this stuff,” you can’t help but pout at him. 

“you’re no fun, you know that? live a little, spence,” you crack a smile, nudging your elbow into his side but careful to not hit addie. “what about you, addie girl? what do you want babes?” 

addie makes a disapproving noise. “we usually end up getting her a baby sized chocolate,” spencer explains for the three year old. “and it looks like those two are already ready to order.”

you let out a sigh seeing mia and dylan already telling their order to the cashier working the register. dylan then turns to look over at the two of you. 

“i’ll just have two scoops of nutella chocolate, please,” you request followed by a sweet smile. then you turn to spencer. “last chance, spencer. and it’s on me.”

spencer goes to open his mouth, but the blonde haired three year old in his arms speaks for him. “wocky woad!” she recites from earlier, followed by a clap of her hands. “wocky road, wocky woad!”

you smile, your eyes going from addie to spencer’s blushing cheeks before going back to the cashier. “and two scoops of rocky road, and then chocolate in a baby cup.” the cashier nods and he turns around to start grabbing cups and cones.

“well i guess i’m eating ice cream now,” spencer chuckles as he adjusts addie in his arms. she then starts to play with the fabric of his shirt and babbling about something.

“yes you are,” you grin and spencer tries to give you a deceiving look, but it doesn’t seem to work on him. “oh come on, spencer. it’s not that big of a deal, it won’t kill you to eat it once.”

“it might. you never know, y/n.” you playfully roll your eyes at spencer and his ridiculousness. “i’m joking, i’m joking. i’ll just have to work out a bit more this week.”

“like these three aren’t enough exercise for you?” you ask, looking over at spencer. at this point addie has both of her hands on spencer’s cheeks, her mouth dropped open in an ‘o’, a fascinated look on her face like she was mesmerized.

“addie girl, what are you-?” spencer starts to ask as he tries  to pull his face away from her hands. 

“shh, spencey,” addie scolds, her hands pressing into his cheeks and squishing them together. you start laughing at the look on spencer’s face, and soon he’s laughing along with you and addie continues giggling like always. 

you shake your head with a smile at the two of them. addie pulls her hands away from spencer’s face and wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into his neck. the cashier comes back with all five orders of your ice cream. you see spencer dig into his pocket for his wallet, but you beat him in opening yours and handing the cashier your card. 

“y/n, you-”

you cut him off, “yes i did, spence. it’s not that big of a deal, i promise. this is the least i can do for you trust me.”

spencer lets out a sigh. mia and dylan grab their cups of ice cream and you pass spencer his and then addie’s. you grab a few napkins and stuff them in the pocket of your shorts since you’re a hundred and ten percent positive that one of the kids will end up with ice cream all over their face. 

“what do you guys wanna do now?” you ask, taking a spoonful of your ice cream and bringing it to your lips as the five of you walk out of the ice cream parlor. 

mia gasps, “can we go to the beach? we don’t have to go swimming because it’s late but i just wanna go.” she pleads, looking up at you and then looking at spencer.

“i don’t see why not,” you say and besides you spencer agrees. then you all are walking in the direction of jetties beach, addie stumbling besides you and spencer as she walks eating her ice cream. 

the walk doesn’t take all that long, and before you know it you’re about to walk onto the boardwalk that leads to the stand. you slip your sandals off and you hold them in your hand, but spencer holds his hand out to take them.

“spencer, you don’t have to. i’m capable of holding my own shoes,” you laugh, slowly handing your sandals to the blond haired boy. “thank you.”

spencer also helps addie take off her small flip flops and he holds them as well along with his own sandals. mia and dylan are already long gone, the two of them bolting down the walkway and towards the water. you, spencer, and of course addie find a suitable spot that you can sit and watch your two siblings and you sit down on the sand. addie climbs right into spencer’s lap and continues to eat her ice cream.

your gaze lands on mia and dylan who are splashing each other with their feet down in the ocean. you can’t help but smile, even if dylan seemed to think you were the worst person in the world, and mia barely remembered who you were.

“y/n,” spencer mumbles, and you turn to look at him, the slight breeze blowing your hair back ever so slightly. “i’m sorry. i hope you’re okay that i’m so close to them.”

you shake your head, “spencer, it’s okay, if anything, i’m glad that they have someone like you in their lives. someone that’ll go to their games, and hang out with them and do all the sibling things i miss out on all the time. i just - thank you.”

“it’s no problem y/n, i promise you that. i love spending time with them, my sisters don’t like being around me like yours do. and addie? god, she’s adorable. i’m her own personal jungle gym it feels like.” 

you laugh, catching addie’s attention and she starts giggling because she doesn’t know any better. “yeah, that’s how it seems to be. i wish i could be in her life more, i don’t even think she realizes i’m her sister. even if i’m half, i’m still her sister.” 

“how come you don’t come home more often then?” spencer asks, and he leans over with his spoon to grab a spoonful of your ice cream. 

“hey!” you laugh, and in response you get a sneaky smile from spencer. you reach over and take a spoonful of his before you respond to him. “my schedule just doesn’t allow it, you know? school, important things i have to do, my aunt doesn’t really want me leaving all that much and i don’t wanna mess up anyone’s lives here.” 

“yeah, i think i get what you’re trying to say.” spencer says and the two of you turn to look out for mia and dylan. “do you wanna go down to the water?” 

you nod as you finish the last spoonful of your ice cream. spencer holds his hand out and you place it in the palm of his hand and he puts it right next to your shoes that lay in the sand. the three of you stand up, and immediately you notice the chocolate ice cream all over addie’s face. 

“oh addie, babe,” you mumble and grab a napkin out from your pocket. you go to rub the ice cream off her lips, but she turns her cheek. you can feel your heart drop in your chest. 

addie shakes her head, “no. want spencey.” you frown and look up at spencer who looks down at you pitifully. you hand him the napkin and he crouches down to addie’s height to wipe it off. once all of the ice cream residue is off, he sticks the napkin in his pocket and grabs addie’s hand.

you cross your arms over your chest and the three of you walk down, the sand squishing between your toes as you walk closer and closer to the water. 

“y/n/n!” mia giggles. “come here, come here!” 

you smile, walking into the water ankle deep to where dylan and mia were. you look over your shoulder, “addie, come here love.” 

addie shakes her head and turns to hide her face into spencer’s thigh. you see spencer sigh and he crouches down and tries to talk to her, but she continues to shake her head. “i’m sorry.” he mouths to you and you shrug, turning your attention to mia who’s busy splashing dylan. 

mia kicks her foot, splashing water onto you and you giggle. “hey!” you laugh, reciprocating the action and splashing mia as well. the two of you go back and forth until dylan decides to splash you as well, but his kick is more powerful and he nearly drenches you. he starts laughing and starts to run back towards the land where spencer is sitting with addie in between his legs. “come here you little monster!”

you’re faster than dylan and his short legs, so you managed to catch up to him and wrap your arms around him from behind, making sure to try and get him wet as well. “this is so mean!” dylan yells, but he’s laughing before you know it and you can’t help but grin like a fool. it’s like he’s starting to come around.

spencer smiles at the semi sweet interaction between you and your brother. “are you ready to go, you guys?”

“what, you don't want a hug too, spencer?” you tease with a mischievous smile. spencer’s eyes go wide and in an instant he’s picking up addie and starting to run away from you. “get back here you giant goof!”

you hear spencer laugh as he continues to run away from you, but eventually he runs far enough that he stops and turns around, heaving out a sigh. “alright, fine, but only because we need to get back to those two.” he gestures with his free hand back to where mia and dylan are sitting in the stand.

you grin and wrap your arms around spencer, staying there for a few seconds before you pull back. sure enough there’s multiple wet spots on his gray t-shirt. “see? wasn’t so bad.”

“yeah, yeah,” spencer mumbles with a smile. “okay. let’s head back to the house, yeah?”

#someone like you - spencer knight #spencer knight #jack hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #usa hockey #usntdp

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #388

“i wanna stay inside all day  /  i want the world to go away  /  i want blood, guts, and chocolate cake  /  i wanna be a real fake”

Name three people who you'll never forget: I doubt I'd forget Jason even if, God forbid, I had dementia. That's trauma for ya. I HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHLY doubt I could EVER forget my mom, either. In many different ways, she's literally kept me alive and has done so, so much for me. Then there's also Sara, whose friendship with me matches no one else I've been friends with. Have you ever been told you are fake? No. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy, my dog. Do you like pineapple? I do. When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? I know this sounds seriously depressing, but that's... pretty much every day. My life is just currently such a drag that being awake bores me senseless. But it's funny, because then some nights I stay up late for like... no reason. My existence alone is confusing. Is there any specific number that has any significance to you? No. Do you remember much from high school? I remember a lot from high school. Where would you go for the ultimate honeymoon? Isn't there a black sand beach in Iceland or something? Take me there, man. I'd also love to go to the Bahamas, but ew humidity and also I'm afraid of the Bermuda Triangle lmfao. If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you get? The big piece I want to get on my left upper arm; it's called "Denialism" by NukeRooster on deviantART. I got her permission forever ago to get it tattooed. Do you have any alarms set? What time and what for? Not currently. Have you ever had to work while there was a film crew at your work place? No. Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No. What do you like in your omelet? Ham pieces and cheese. Have you ever boycotted something? Yes: Chick-fil-A. Homophobic, transphobic pieces of shit aren't getting my business. Has anyone ever borrowed something from you, and not returned it? Yes. Most notably a video game I LOOOOVED as a kid. I was mad salty and still am lmao. Do you vent a lot on social media? God no, not anymore after embarrassing the everliving FUCK out of myself with a suicide note. What was your first bill you started paying on your own? I don't pay any bills bc unemployed. .-. Do you watch ASMR videos? No. What is your favorite charitable cause to donate to or volunteer for? The Trevor Project. Have you ever received a misdiagnosis? Yes. A psychiatrist I had in middle school thought I had ADHD, which was ABSOLUTELY ludicrous. Most recently, my long-time bipolar 2 diagnosis has been questioned, but I do think I have it. I think. Does it bother you when others don’t share the same religious beliefs as you? No? Freedom of religion is a thing. What was your last argument about? Ummmm... I don't remember. Probably something with Mom. Have you found your first gray hairs yet? No. Somehow. You'd think all the stress would have me pure gray by now, lol. What are the names of all the pets you’ve had? Dude, I've had WAY too many for this. What’s the most you’ve ever spent on a cosmetic or skincare product? *shrug* Who was the last person that invited you to go somewhere? Did you accept? Mom invited me to come with her to Nicole's to get out of the house because at the time our A/C was still out. I didn't want to go, even though damn did I suffer, haha. What was the last food item that you toasted, other than bread? That's... a great question. I don't know if I toast anything other than bread. Have you ever named any of your pets after a cartoon character? I remember I had a cat named Taz when I was younger. What was the last thing that someone else recommended, or suggested you try? My TMS doctor is like SUPER friendly and makes the treatment go by so fast (it's exactly 22 minutes and 30 seconds; don't ask why), and recently she was fangirling to Mom and me about the show Once Upon a Time, haha. I saw very little of it with Jason, but Mom did check it out. When was the last time you wore a hat? What kind? I have zero idea. When was the last time you ate a bowl of ice-cream? What flavour? Oh wow, it's been a long time. It was probably vanilla with chocolate syrup? If you menstruate, has your cycle ever synced with anyone close to you? Yes. Tell me something positive about the town or city that you live in. ... You said "positive," right? Did your parents have high expectations for you to excel in school and go to college/university? Yes. They were pretty serious about going to college when my sisters and I were younger, but they opened up to the concept that maybe it wasn't for all of us (coughmecough). Are you a polite person? I genuinely think I am. I definitely try to be. Have you ever been in a relationship where everything with your partner felt natural and effortless? Sigh. Yeah. Have you ever been in a relationship where everything was difficult and rocky? No. That's not the kind I'd stay in very long at all. I mean yes, there are always bumps, but there comes a point where you gotta say fuck nah and find something better. When you were a teenager, did your parents set rules about dating? Other than keeping age gaps in mind, no. Have you ever committed a crime that directly harmed another person? No. Did you grow up in an urban, suburban, or rural area? My childhood home was suburban, but leaned towards rural. We were on the very edge of the town. Which disease do you personally think is the most horrible? After seeing my mother suffer from borderline stage 4 ovarian cancer, I've gotta say cancer. My mother is the strongest person I know and yet she cried so frequently from chemotherapy. It broke my fucking heart. The person I copied the survey from mentioned especially childhood cancers, and I have to agree. Like just... why. "Everything happens for a reason." Bull. Fucking. Shit. Just TRY and convince me why a young child has to deal with CANCER. Do you remember where you first drove to after getting your license? I still don't have my license, as I've said in many a survey before. What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid? Being on the computer too much. What is your biological sex? Female. Do you use online dating? Or do you use another method for finding dates? Nah. I'm at the point in my life where I wanna let love just find me and not actively search for it. What is the oldest gaming console you own? We MIGHT still have our old Atari? If not, it'd be a GameBoy Advance. Which accents can you emulate pretty well? Just British. Do you think you'll ever manage to do everything you want to? No. But then again, I think that sounds pretty realistic? I doubt most people check off everything on their bucket list. What do you fear most? Probably becoming truly homeless, living on the streets. Do you wear shoes around the house? No. Are you a good driver? If you can't drive yet, do you think you'll be good? I mean, I'm not the worst in the world. My mom's always pointed out though that I ride on the brakes (which I do out of fear) and I tend to speed up and slow down quite a bit. I also stop kinda abruptly sometimes. What is/was your favorite thing about school? Seeing friends. What are you most likely to spend money on? My own personal money, tattoos, lol. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? @_@ Do you hate how, when the public like a celebrity, they overpublicize them? I feel bad for them, more than anything. You breathe wrong and suddenly it's news-worthy. It's like your every inconsequential action is under heavy surveillance and judgment, and it seems so unfair. Have you ever became attracted to someone you weren’t at first because their personality made you find them physically attractive? That was Jason for me. I never thought he was ugly, but regardless, he became THE most attractive man in the world to me. Have you ever worked in retail? Yes. -_- Are you even a little bit racist? Nah man, it's 2021, baby. Were you more fond of swings, monkey bars, or seesaws as a child? I was all about the swings. Do you believe in a near-future apocalyptic event? I don't know or care, honestly. A gamma ray or whatever they're called could incinerate us all tomorrow. A black hole could swallow the earth in an hour. We don't know. Do you have a chandelier in your home? No. Do you have a bar with stools? No. Is your Christmas tree faux or real? If faux, what color? We use a fake green one. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yes; it's the first part I eat. Which body type would you say you had? Did you know whales can survive on land? :^) Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah! I used to LOVE doing that with Dad as a kid when the field across our house wasn't in use (tobacco was grown there). What’s your preferred flavour of jam? I just like grape. What kind of animal did you last pet? My cat! Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: I massively admire Jeffree Star's work ethic. Do you prefer to shave or wax? Shave. I used to wax my eyebrows, but now I just don't care. Would you ever have sex in a public place? Uh, no. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I've actually never watched her. Your favourite pasta dish: Just your normal spaghetti with meatballs. Strangest thing you’ve ever seen? Probably what I'm assuming was a star (but it was green???) flickering and then fizzling out of the sky kind of like some sort of backwards firework. I'd been watching it literally grow over a few nights, so when this happened, it was a big "?????? the fuck??????". It honestly scared me for some reason so I went inside after that. Aliens? I say aliens. Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yes. Has anybody ever called you a bastard? I don't think so. Who is the last person you ignored? uhhhhhhh Would you wear feathers in your hair? So actually, for my first prom, I wanted to wear a blue jay feather I had in my hair, reason being Jason's nickname from his parents was always "J Bird." It ended up not working out because we couldn't make it look natural with what we had. When was the last time you were well and truly scared? Hm. Favourite member of your favourite band: Ozzy, obviously, haha. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don't have one.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''teen idle'' by marina

[pandoraimperatrix]

Two Names For Change

Gotham | BatCat | Four Names ‘Verse | Two Shots | Read on AO3

Summary: First he was threatening her all the time with a proposal and now she actually wants one he seems to forget he ever wanted to marry her in the first place. People say that women are hard to understand. They never dated Bruce Wayne.

This is an introductory piece for the actual sequel. The sequel will tell Jason’s story so you can expect angst, this introductory piece however will be pure sugar sprinkled candyfloss cavity inducing fluff.

It got too big so I had to break it in two parts which was nice since I used it to expose myself as a Fairy Tale nerd. Thanks to my mutuals on Twitter for the incentive and Lily for helping me with the title.

Enjoy.

 Two Names For Change

Part I – Restoration

 "When they found that she was a Princess born, there was another burst of joy, which was almost the death of them; but when she told them the names of the King and Queen, her father and mother, they recognised them as the sovereigns whose dominions they had conquered. They imparted this fact to Finette, and she immediately vowed she would not consent to marry the Prince until they had restored the estates of her father. They promised to do so, for they had upwards of a hundred kingdoms, and one more or less was not worth talking about."

 - Finette Cendron by the Countess d'Aulnoy

 Selina fell next to Bruce, her heart still racing, she was panting hard. She smiled when she felt Bruce taking her hand and raising their arms over them, the blue glow of the monstrosity that Dick insisted in calling the “Batcomputer” being the only source of light in the room bouncing on their sweaty skin as their fingers laced together.

“You drained me, Cat.”

She let out a throaty laugh.

“You are tired? I did all the work myself.”

“In my defence, you do it so well, can you blame for liking to just lie down and watch?”

She snorted.

“You are such a pillow princess.” Saying that she slipped her hand from his and stood up. Bruce watched with longing and affection as she tried to make sense of the mess her hair had become, her naked form looking surreal under the penumbra of the cave.

“Let��s go to bed. The sun will rise soon.”

She turned back to him, her expression bashful.

“Sorry, B. I have to go home.”

Bruce’s soft smile fell, his jaw tense. Selina winced.

In a quick powerful motion he stood up, pulling his hair up nervously.

“I don’t get why we’re still doing this. You and Helena are here all the time.”

Guilt left Selina’s face and was substituted by annoyance.

“I already told you. I like having my own place.”

“I’m not talking about giving up your flat completely, but it’s stupid that you keep insisting in pretend that you still live there when you’re here all the time. It’s selfish. Helena doesn’t deserve to be keep being dragged from home to home.”

“Fine. She won’t. Because for now on I’ll keep that in mind and remember where we actually live.”

And she turned to leave, when she felt Bruce hug her from behind.

“No, no, no. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His voice muffled by her hair. “I know what having your own place means to you.” Selina relaxed under him. “And it was wrong to bring Helena up, even though I stand by what I said regarding to her.” Bruce couldn’t see, but Selina bit her lip to control the pang of guilt. “I just hate that we’re not living together.”

Selina sighed and turned in his arms, Bruce’s hands left Selina’s waist and went to her face, holding her curls in place tenderly.

“I know… I’m sorry too. But as you said, I, we are here all the time.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Bruce…”

“Please? Just consider. You don’t have to say yes…” His serious demeanour cracked. “Now.”

She slapped him weakly on the chest.

“You are so full of yourself.”

“I could say the same.”

Selina’s chin fell and she closed her eyes in outrage.

“Oh my god, Bruce! Gross!”

“And yet true.” He mocked.

He could see she was having trouble trying to control the urge to laugh, her lips twitching despite her whole disgusted performance.

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” she said as they picked the parts of their scattered suits from the ground “I’m gone.” She turned back dramatically from the stairs. “And I’ll never come back!”

“Don’t forget to bring the things Dick needs for his school project when you come to dinner.”

“Shit, yes, I forgot. Thank you.” A few moments after she was back, but sadly not naked anymore. She eyed Bruce who was sitting on his ridiculously enormous chair, dressed in sweatpants, mug of espresso steaming in one hand as he worked at the computer.

“Didn’t you say you were going to sleep?” She raid running her fingers through his moist hair.

“Didn’t you say you were going home?”

“Your shower is better than mine.” She bended over to kiss him scrunching her nose at the bitter taste of coffee. “Text me later to remind me of Dick’s stuff? What is he doing again?”

“Some flying machine I think. He won’t let me help him. Hardhead.”

“Yeah, I know someone like that. But will you?”

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll text Helena.”

Selina smiled and then kissed him again. This time lasting longer, Bruce put the mug on the table so he could touch Selina, wishing they were back on the floor, with her feverish and wanton all around him.

She purred softly as they parted.

“See you later.” She whispered.

“Cat. Promise me you’ll think about it?”

Selina sighed but nodded before leaving, this time for good.

 Bruce used the rearview to spy on his kids. Helena was drooling on her hand, her head on Dick’s lap, her legs folded against her body, very uncomfortable sharing the back sit with Dick who was also asleep and Bruce could hear the hum of the earbud that had fallen one of his ears but was still hanging on one of his knotted curls. The boy was in need of a haircut. They were coming back from a weekend in Metropolis, Bruce was investigating Superman and when the kids learnt that the was going to the city they used all sorts of blackmail and schemes to go with him, in the end it became a whole family trip. He eyes then, Selina, she was looking through the pictures they took on her phone.

“I talked to Lucius about the proceedings to recognize Helena as my daughter.”

“Hmm… And you didn’t think about talking to me about it?”

“I’m doing it now.” He sighed. “I don’t want us to fight about it. I just want to give Helena what is rightful hers, including the Wayne legacy and name.”

“I know… I know… It’s just…”She hugged herself. “I was so afraid someone would take her away from me if I told them she was yours too.”

“I understand, but things are different now. We are different.” He diverted his eyes from the road to Selina, picking her hand and lacing their fingers together, she rolled her eyes, but there was unable to stop her own fond smile.

“We’ll need to talk to her.” She turned briefly to the kids. “I’m not specially attached to my last name, if she wants to ditch it for yours I won’t mind.”

He let the words sit for a while before continuing.

“About that…” His voice an octave higher from his faux absent-mindness.  

“Too soon.” She said dryly.

The car shook when he suddenly pushed the brakes the kids didn’t wake but mumbled annoyed.

“Meaning that eventually will be the right time?”

She bit back a smile at his excitement.

“I guess? I don’t know why you make such a huge deal out of this.”

“Because I love you, that’s why.”

She looked away shaking her head.

“You are so cheesy.” Her smitten tone brought a pleased smile to Bruce’s face that broadened after her thumb started rubbing his hand absently.

 Two years later, Selina had been sending signs that she was ready for what she feels like ages but nothing happens. And Bruce being Bruce she can never pinpoint when he actually is trying to create proposal settings to troll her or just being his usual sappy self. But after a while when a walk on the beach by the sunset when they took a trip so San Francisco for Dick’s fourteenth birthday was just a plot to convince her do it on the sand – and she found sand in weird places for weeks. All dinner dates in fancy restaurants were only PR appearances. And all special homemade desserts just because he liked to cook to her, it started becoming ridiculous.

She was ranting about that as she folded laundry and drank wine. Barbara was just drinking the wine. Heaven forbid her royal Kareness to help do any housework.

“But have you told him you want to tie the knot? I actually don’t know why the wait, how long have you been together since he came back? Four years?”

“Three. And no, but wouldn’t that be like proposing to him?”

“Well, kinda. I didn’t think you from all people would care about that.”

“It’s not like that. I don’t care about tradition, and shit. But have you any idea of how full of himself he’ll be if I’m the one to propose? I can see his already giant head inflating and flying him to space.”

Barbara laughed.

“Sorry, kiddo. I don’t know how to help you. Nobody proposed to me either.”

“Really? I thought Gordon did, back in the day.”

“He did. Sort of. We talked about it. Even thought all the shit that happen later I’m glad we never got to do the white picket fence, 2.5 kid scenario. That was no life for me. And as much as I’m grateful for how good he is to Babs, I couldn’t take five minutes of Lee’s life.” She shivered. Selina snorted.

“Would you have married Tabby? If you could back then?”

“I don’t know.” She chuckled. “Do you think she would’ve married me?”

“Oh man, imagine how extra that would have been. All rogues in one single place. I’d be the maid of honour, of course. Ivy providing de the décor with some poisoned flowers, Oswald throwing a fit because you were getting more attention than him. Do you think anyone has a minister’s licence?”

“I did something like that to punish Jim. Wore a dress and all” she snorted “I was one crazy bitch back them. Tabby helped.”

“Geez. I don’t even get to imagine a fucked up scenario because reality in this city is crazier.”

“We were so much worse before Tabby took you in. I sometimes wonder if you were what grounded us a little.”

“Really? Because you were such a bitch to me when I went to live with you guys. I used to miss vanilla straight Barbara a lot.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry. I was jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Tabby. She gave up on me and took you as her new little project.” Barbara rolled her eyes dramatically. “And there was Butch.” She groaned.

“Now I’m very happy that I didn’t have the same destiny as him.”

“Oh kitty-cat, I was jealous but I loved you. I always did. I might even have been jealous of you too. You were my little project first.”

 Two weeks and a family picnic on the Wayne state organized by Alfred, regular post-coitus moon bathing on the roofs and a very interesting day on a boat only the two of them after, nothing changed, except that Holly was home and spread on the carpet with Selina. Her head on the lap of her surrogate mother as Selina played lazily with the strands of hair that were dyed in a fading blue. The girls were in Helena’s room playing videogames. And Barbara was coming from a kitchen a batch of something supposedly drinkable on a tray.

Selina wrinkled her nose.

“What is that?”

“My favourite, alcohol.”

“No thanks.”

“Why not? What’s the point of girl’s night without getting wasted?”

“My stomach is hurting. Bruce took me to that new Indian restaurant three days ago. I’m too white for that.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I have seen you eat rock.”

Holly snorted, Selina pulled her hair not hard enough to hurt enough to send a message.

“Ouch, Selina!”

“I’m getting old, I don’t know Barbara, if I wanted a doctor I’d have called Lee.”

They continued their chatting though the night, Holly telling them all about college drama and they trash talked their mutual friends until they all fell asleep. Selina woke up feeling horrible. Everything was dark. Even Helena’s room was silent. She pushed Barbara’s legs off her lap and got up from the sofa, dragging her wobbling legs to the kitchenette. She barely made to the sink before empting her stomach.

Shit.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Fuck, Barbara! Don’t do that!”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She said is a shaky voice, wiping her mouth. “Maybe I should see a doctor.”

Barbara looked at her with one eyebrow arched and folded arms.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just having a déjà vu now.”

Selina widened her eyes in horror.

“No…”

“You said that too back then.”

“Fuuuuuck.”

The wave of nausea hit again, but now there was just bile. She was still hiccupping when Barbara made her sit down.

“Is it possible?”

Selina just glared at her.

“Very possible, then.”

“I mean. We use protection, mostly. You know I can’t take the pill. But I had my period.”

“Did you?”

“Yes!”

“Did you?”

Selina shut up for a second counting and then she covered her face in realization.

Barbara laughed and walked across Selina returning to the living room. She shook Holly awake.

“Wake up Holly, dear. We have a baby shower to plan.”

Pleeeeeease reblog my work if you liked it. It really helps me out. Thank you.

#batcat #bruce wayne #Selina Kyle #gotham #helena wayne #Four Names for Love #two names for change

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 5

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo investigates Demyx further, and comes to a shocking revelation.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo told Aeleus everything.

The man seemed more tired than usual. He’d been gone for the past two days on some resistance mission neither Even nor Ienzo really knew anything about. He’d slept soundlessly, almost breathlessly, on the couch for two hours before Ienzo tried to feed him and convince him to sleep in his proper bed. But when Aeleus asked how he was… the words had spilled out of him almost against his will.

“There are more people like me here, Aeleus,” he finished. “That much is certain.”

Aeleus ate steadily. Ienzo had made pho; he’d forgotten how much he missed cooking with an actual full kitchen. “Of course there are,” he said. “Not everyone goes underground in our sense. Some merely prefer to hide.”

“In some ways I feel so… naive,” he admitted slowly. “I wish you would tell me some things so I don’t feel so ignorant.”

Aeleus smiled and squeezed Ienzo’s hand. “If I could, I would,” he said. “Even I am only allowed to know pieces, parts.” He set aside his empty bowl. “Though I am curious. I had thought all the seeker lines… were eradicated.”

“But why, if they’re functionally harmless? He has no magic.”

Aeleus rubbed at his eyes. “Their abilities are purely passive… and somewhat latent. It’s thought seekers would do anything to trigger their own abilities, even if they do not consciously realize it. But once they wake… they are a force to be reckoned with. Their individualism was what made them dangerous.”

Ienzo exhaled. Was that why Demyx was so drawn to him? Because on some level he thought Ienzo’s power would awaken his own?

“...Moreover… and Even would say this is all silly mythology.”

“If Even says it’s silly, then I want to know it all the more.”

“Seekers pairbond. It’s thought they spend their days looking for their soulmate… and if they find them, they know. Ironically… despite the individualism, they are nearly dependent on those they bond with."

Ienzo smiled a little. “That is very mythic.”

“I admit I’m rather jealous of you. I’d like to meet one.”

“Well, if I can be subtle about it, I’ll ask him.”

“He might not know much about his own culture.”

“...Soulmates.” Ienzo shook his head. “As if anyone has time for love right now.”

---

Still, why was it Ienzo agreed to see him again?

Thanks to the psychology professor, Eraqus, he was able to test out of many gen-ed courses. But this left Ienzo with a dilemma--namely, that he had no idea what to actually major in. It seemed like a superficial problem to have, on top of all this.

“ Precisely why I wanted you to actually take those classes,” Even told him, with a scowl. “To get to know your cohort, your community--because that influences it too.”

Ienzo pursed his lips. “Why bother, when we might have to run again at any moment? You should have at the very least given me the choice, Even.”

His disposition did not improve. “You know little of the actual world. Gods forbid I try to actually let you learn.”

“Learn what? On paper, I already know all of the content. And you don’t want me to truly get close to anyone--else you would actually let me socialize, instead of calling me until I return home.”

His head snapped up from his computer. “How dare I worry for you, you mean? If there are Heartless and seekers and goodness knows what else--”

“Even. I can take care of myself. You have to let me make my own decisions. Otherwise, what type of ruler would I ever hope to be?” A bit of an underhanded move, but true regardless.

Even turned pink, and his scowl deepened. He knew Ienzo had cornered him. “Very well . Now leave me be. I have to finish this report.”

Ienzo put on a jacket and left the house. He told Demyx he’d meet him at the streetcar station nearest the beach. He thought about what Aeleus told him, about soulmates. He thought of the warmth, the prickling he’d felt with his own magic whenever they were together. Was it possible that--?

Perhaps it was simply a silly schoolboy crush, and given that he’d never much had one on anyone else, this was just how his magic reacted normally. Surely he couldn’t simply ask Demyx what he’d felt, could he?

Something to ponder. Aeleus had said it was myth. Ienzo reminded himself to try and study more magic history. It had been some time, and he was rusty.

The streetcar was relatively empty for this time of day, so his trip was smooth and easy. Ienzo liked public transit, its cleanliness, its efficiency. If only all of life could be organized so neatly. He watched the band of sea grow closer and closer until finally the conductor urged him to get off at the terminus.

The memories of the sea were louder now, harder to fight-- Braig, where is _____?

I dunno, I just turned around for five seconds, couldn’t have gone far--

The feeling of water rushing into his lungs, sand as the riptide tossed him back and forth like a ragdoll-- then a memory he was almost certain he hadn’t recalled in some time, of another child in the water, a child with blonde hair and shiny scales guiding him towards the surface--

“Hey, Zo! You made it!”

Ienzo gasped a little. He had to have corroborated that memory. It was impossible that happened--Braig had to have been the one who saved him from drowning, or Aeleus, not some kind of--creature that looked just like the man in front of him-- “Hi, Demyx.”

He cocked his head. “You okay?”

“Yes… I… fine. Shall we?”

“Uh. Sure.”

They walked along the boardwalk, the old, sand-weathered boards creaking under their feet. Various food vendors, gift shops, and game booths dotted the surface, leading to a set of stairs down to the beach itself. “You ever been?” Demyx asked. “It’s too cold to swim, but still pretty to look at.”

Ienzo breathed that sea-tinted air, the echoes of the memory making both him and his magic feel… so very strange. Was he being put in a thrall? But this felt like none of the thralls Even and Merlin had trained him on. It did not feel like conscious magic. “Sure. Let’s go.”

They took off their shoes when they got to the water. The sand, in this twilight, was pleasantly warm. A few people milled about; the brave were swimming, some wading, others flying kites or playing with dogs or simply watching the water. They walked closely enough that every few drifts of tide, Ienzo could just barely feel the cool water on his toes. He felt… relaxed, he realized, even in the presence of this essential stranger.

“Does this remind you of your home?” Ienzo asked him. Demyx’s expression was dreamy, his eyes trained on the ocean outside.

“It… does. Whenever I really feel homesick… I come down here. It’s a little too cold for surfing now, but even just the sound of the waves… or the birds…” He sighed. “I was supposed to go back for a visit. Before it… fell.”

“I truly am sorry.”

He smiled sadly. “It’s not your fault.”

Ienzo wondered if it actually was; if he hadn’t been running, if he’d done something or fought , would Destiny Islands be whole?

Demyx took a breath. “I wanted to… talk to you about something,” he said. “And I know it’s going to sound totally insane--”

Ienzo’s heart beat harder.

“But I can’t stop thinking about it, and I wonder if it’s actually true--”

He felt almost like he couldn’t breathe, the world getting dizzy, his magic practically screaming at him to open his eyes and see what was right in front of him--

“Hey… you okay?”

Ienzo’s knees gave out, and everything went dark.

---

“...zo? Hey.”

He blinked. He was lying on the soft sand of the beach, and the right leg of his pants was awkwardly wet. “What happened?”

“You fainted. Here.” He was handed a bottle of water.

Ienzo sat up slowly. His right eye didn’t hurt, but it did feel warm, almost like it was glowing. He opened the lukewarm water and drank it.

“Sorry about your pants. I wasn’t able to fully catch you.”

“...They’ll dry.” He looked back towards the boardwalk--there were no people near them. They were almost completely alone in this strange little cove. “A… friend of mine told me a little about seekers.”

A flush brightened Demyx’s face. “What did they say?”

“He said… that you subconsciously seek out your soulmate, and when you find them, you know.” Demyx’s face was still doubled in his vision. “Is that true? Is that what you're actually seeking, not magic users to protect?"

A substantial pause. All Ienzo heard for a long moment was the waves. Then, finally, “yeah. It’s true.”

Ienzo sat up a little more. “When we…” He swallowed, and forced himself to lock eyes with him. “When we met. I felt something in my magic. I didn’t know what it was, but I wonder--”

“If we--” Demyx cut himself off. His eyes were watering.

“That wasn’t the first time we met, was it?”

“No.”

Ienzo’s heart was beating so hard. “When I was… little. My family and I took a trip to your islands. My caretaker… lost track of me, and I nearly drowned. I was saved by… something. It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” The tears ran over.

“You’re not human.”

“Not completely. But neither are you.”

Ienzo shook his head slowly. “Not completely.”

Demyx took both of his hands. “I’d forgotten it… all the way up until… you saved me from that Heartless, and then I didn’t believe it was you until…”

The pull was growing stronger. “Then what are you?” Ienzo asked.

“I guess you would call it… a siren? I guess?” He bit his lip nervously. “But we… I don’t remember how, I really don’t, but I lost the ability to change form… and one day I just washed up on the beach. I forgot who I was for years .” He took out the pendant. “And since then…”

“You’ve been looking for your history and your family.”

“And you.”

Ienzo’s breath caught.

“I know we’re… we’re basically strangers, but… I know we’re…” He swiped at his eyes. “Right? You felt it too.”

Slowly… in a state of disbelief… Ienzo nodded. The prickling feeling inside of his magic only intensified. Demyx took one hand and touched his cheek. Ienzo gasped despite himself. He’d never had these feelings… maybe there was a reason --

Demyx had said he was a siren. Maybe this was all some kind of enchanting magic he’d never experienced--

But his own energy was telling him this was all truth.

Demyx leaned in a little. How had Ienzo not noticed how he smelled before? Like ginger, and salt, and something else he had no name for. “I…” Ienzo was breathing shakily. He should’ve been embarrassed, falling apart like this. “I’ve never--”

“Would you want to?” Demyx asked gently.

“Yes.” He closed the space between them, and Demyx’s lips on his shouldn’t have felt so right . It took him a moment to learn how to do it. Those callused hands tangled in his hair, pulling him a little closer--

Another stronger, warmer wave broke over him, making the fine hairs on his arms stand up straight--

Demyx broke away first, pressing his forehead against Ienzo’s. “Your hair’s glowing again,” he said softly, pressing a kiss against Ienzo’s cheek.

The pleasure he’d found quickly shattered. “No,” he said, snapping his head around to see if there were any witnesses. “Oh--”

“No one can see us,” Demyx said. “I’m blocking you from view.”

“I just--I don’t know how much magic was released by--” He licked his lips. He could still taste him, for gods’ sake, a weirdly sweet flavor.

“I’m blocking you,” Demyx repeated.

He got it. “You can… you can do that?”

“More like…” He brushed his fingers across Ienzo’s cheek. “Distracting whoever would listen. Making them think about their dinner, or…”

“Passive,” Ienzo repeated. “What do we… what now?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t think I’d get this far.” Demyx blinked the tears out of his eyes. “I mean… I guess…”

“Get to know each other?”

He laughed a little, and Ienzo did too.

“I don’t know how I’m going to explain this,” he told Demyx. “My father… I’m not sure I fully understand what’s going on--”

“Me either.”

“I was told…” He could barely breathe. “I was told… when I didn’t understand the situation… to research. To gather data.” Demyx’s hand, against the small of his back, was so warm. His whole body felt suddenly so much more alive.

“I think I understand,” Demyx said, and kissed him again.

---

“Where have you been ?” Even’s voice was shrill, and Ienzo noted, not without worry. He was late, he knew; the sun had been down for hours. “And why are you--covered in sand ?”

Ienzo winced a little. He had a choice to make here--to lie, or tell the truth. But something this big… he had to be sure. And Even did have a nigh-bottomless knowledge of the monarchy, and Ienzo’s own magic. “I’ll… explain everything, I promise, but know I am fine . Let me clean up, and then we can…”

Even touched his shoulder. He lifted a strand of Ienzo’s hair, the tips of which were still luminous. “Oh,” he said softly. He seemed frozen; Ienzo was able to pull away with ease. Even remained there, his one hand still raised, muttering to himself.

Ienzo took a shower. His skin seemed more sensitive than before; in fact, all of his senses seemed as though a film had been peeled away. He combed his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He took a deep breath. He put on some pajamas and rejoined Even in the parlor.

The heavy mahogany desk had been cleared off. “Up you get. Up,” Even said, steering him over. Wordlessly, Ienzo listened; the wood was cold and hard after the sand. Even forced him to lay down.

“Are you going to tell me why I was never informed about all this pairbonding nonsense?”

“Shut up ,” Even hissed. “Be still.”

Ienzo felt coldness leaching into his body, making him shudder. Even’s magic was always sharp and angular as it probed his. Finally, after what felt like a long time… the coldness dissipated. Ienzo shivered. He sat up slowly. Even was breathing hard, with an odd look on his face, as though someone had struck him. “At first I wondered… if he had placed some advanced enchantment on me,” Ienzo said. “But judging by your expression… that is not the case.”

Even seemed to be struggling. “I’d thought…” He began softly.

“You knew this was a possibility,” Ienzo said. “You knew , and you never said--” A sort of rage blotted out the coldness. “Why didn’t you--”

“It’s old magic, Ienzo,” Even said, spreading his arms. “Ancient, even.” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “It’s that boy, isn’t it? The one Aeleus mentioned… the seeker?”

“So is he my mate, or isn’t he?”

“That’s for you to determine,” he said. “You needn’t… accept this bond, Ienzo.”

Ienzo thought of that kiss, and the many that had followed, the way it all made him feel .

“In fact, if you do… you might as well send up a flare saying “here I am!””

“He blocked me.”

Even’s head snapped up.

“When we were figuring this out. His magic eclipsed mine.” He knotted his hands together. “Why did you not tell me this was a possibility?”

“Because almost all seekers are dead!” Even all but yelled. “How was I to know you’d come in contact with one, much less we’d run into him here of all places? Child, did you even know which gender you favored?”

Ienzo shook his head wearily. He was tired now. “You remember that diplomatic trip we took to Destiny Islands? When I… nearly drowned?”

Even softened. “Do I remember. It’s one of the many reasons I’m going prematurely gray. It’s due to Braig’s carelessness that you almost lost your life.”

“He wasn’t the one who saved me. Demyx was.”

“Oh…” He turned pale. “And the magic released as you struggled for your life… must’ve forged that bond.” He thought a moment, then dashed over to one of the books on a bookshelf. “No matter. I’m certain there’s a spell somewhere that could break it, and you can simply--”

“Break it?” Ienzo repeated.

“Don’t tell me you want this, Ienzo?”

Ienzo’s hand fluttered to his lip without meaning to. “Would it be so terrible?” he mumbled. “Especially… if he does have a shielding property.”

Even groaned. “Child, I know you are flush with hormones, and this magic is hard to resist, but think a moment.”

The embarrassment burned his cheeks.

“How do we know he isn’t allied with Xehanort?”

“If he spent years looking for me, do you really think he’d hurt me?”

“Does he know who you truly are?”

Ienzo said nothing.

“Exactly, Ienzo. Exactly .”

He stood. “I’m going to bed,” he said.

Even followed him. “Tell me you’re not thinking about it.”

How could he not? “I think you should allow me to make my own decisions, Even.”

“Ienzo--”

“I am very tired. Good night. ”

He tramped up the stairs, reeling. So this was… true, then. He and Demyx were… A flush came over him. Even was partially correct; ever since they’d kissed on the beach, some thing had woken up in him, something hot and wanting, something that had previously been much quieter.

Ienzo drew the blinds and lay in bed. He looked at his cell phone--messages from Demyx--

I hope you got home safe. Everything feels so much louder now… I feel so awake…

Ienzo took a quick breath. I do too.

What do you want to do?

He knew what he wanted. What he said instead was, I need to know more about you. And you need to know more about me.

Just give me a time and place.

Some place private… away from those that may listen.

Leave it to me.

Ienzo set the phone aside. He started up at the moonlight playing on the ceiling. Mate , he thought. I have a mate. Someone who knew neither of his gender nor of his heritage. Someone who might try to get away from him if he found this out.

Ienzo could tell him, gauge his reactions, and wipe his memory if need be…

He wanted to trust Demyx. If his magic could protect Ienzo… could that possibly be a way for him to finally do something about Xehanort’s forces? For him to find out more information to pass on to the resistance?

He said he’d tell Riku about the resistance… but he needed to know more about him, too. Demyx was probably a good way to find out more about all this…

That kiss…

He’d known, in an aqueous sort of way, he’d likely have to have an heir at some point, and even for him children didn’t spontaneously come out of thin air. But he’d never thought of how he’d get one, nor imagined marriage, nor even… allowed himself the possibility of fantasy, of being loved. His life was too split, always on the run. How could he settle down? He’d barely had friends, much less a boyfriend or girlfriend, much less a lover-- he had not, prior to those hours on the beach, even kissed --

Kissed, and kissed, and kissed…

He traced the material of his waistband absently. Perhaps Even was right, he had to ignore this impulse.

He felt awake, and a little less alone. Perhaps it was for this reason, but he let his hand slip below the waistband, to feel at skin he normally avoided, to stroke it gently and imagine he was not the one touching it--

He gasped, feeling it break over him, and instead of feeling shame as usual, he instead felt release, felt… hope.

#heartlines #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #even (kingdom hearts) #aeleus #au #soulmates au #alternate universe

[patricianandclerk]

If you still have asks open, I would love to see some TMA where some *other* Power's ritual succeeds, and Peter and Elias (and everyone else, if there is space) are forced to navigate *that* world.

Also I’m like obviously a massive Elias/Peter fan, so if you can work that in that would be great but obviously isn’t required.

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

Pretty canon-typical body horror, gore, and suicide talk.

The Tundraran aground on the yellow beach outside Shoeburyness, and she keeled hard toone side with a judder that hit from the base of Peter’s spine all the way upto the back of his teeth. He heard the rusted creak of a few of the shippingcontainers above breaking free of their moorings with the force of the slam,crunching against one another, and he managed to save himself from hitting hardagainst the metal wall.

He heard afew cries and moans of pain, shouts for help up and down some of the decks, butnone of them sounded incredibly urgent – injured limbs, perhaps, but none arethe wheezing shouts of anyone crushed beneath machinery. In any case, thecensus of those still alive was Tadeus’ responsibility – Peter had moreinteresting things to do.

He couldfeel the change in the world as he came onto the strangely balmy air of thedeck, and he was forced to move slowly and ungracefully to the edge of it, theship at a forty-five degree angle… The air itself was thick as molasses,slightly sweet on the tongue, and he softly sighed.

Staring outover the dunes that make up the Shoeburyness beach, spanning out into the far,far distance, he saw strange, spiralling shapes that made his eyes water. Evenbefore his eyes, the heavy dunes moved and shifted toward and away from thehorizon, the fat chunks of grass hopping from one dune to the next, scurryingthrough fractal patterns as though they were dancing steps, this time eight beats,this time three, then six, then three, then four—

“Tadeus!”Peter called out, turning back, and Tadeus took a few moments before he raisedhis head from the hatch, meeting Peter’s gaze where he came to crouch over it.

“Only halfa dozen injured, Captain, and no dead,” Tadeus said lowly.

“It doesn’tmatter, lad,” Peter replied, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s the end of theline.” Peter put out his hand, expectant, and Tadeus stared at Peter’s palm, atthe rough-hewn surface of his skin, and when he lookeed up to Peter’s eyes, Petersaw the lovely, lovely fear there.

Such ashame it wasn’t the time to enjoy it.

Tadeus,hands shaking just slightly, bowed his head and drew the whistle on its chainfrom about it, setting it into Peter’s palm.

“You canrun, if you like,” Peter said mildly. “I won’t mind.”

“Is— Is itbetter to be Forsaken, than whatever that is?” Tadeus asked, and his gaze flittedfrom Peter’s face to the shifting, spiralling dunes. His lips were parted, andhe looked not terrified, nor desperate, nor even angry, but resigned. He knewthis would com, one day, Peter supposed. This, or something like it.

“I thinkso,” Peter said. “But I could kill you, if you’d rather. I think you’d preferthat, Tadeus.”

“You wouldn’trather condemn me with the rest?”

“I would,”Peter allowed, shrugging two great shoulders, and he smiled, very kindly, verywarmly. Tadeus shivered. “But we’re friends, you and I. I’m willing to make asacrifice for you before I attend to my… Ha. My other responsibilities.”

For a moment,Tadeus was quiet and taciturn, and then he reached out, his hand touching Peter’schest underneath the thick fabric of his woollen coat, touching only more cordedwool, but he relaxed as though he found a heartbeat there, his eyes closingshut. He nodded his head, slowly, and Peter smiled, reaching out to cup hischeeks.

He wasmerciful twice over – a quick snap, and that was all, Tadeus falling forwardand into his arms.

Peter slungthe body over his shoulder, clambering down one of the ladders to the shifting sands,and he walked with Tadeus going slowly cool against his chest. It would figure,he supposed, that the Distortion would complete their ritual, and rain theirstrange terror down on the world… And what terror it was.

It would bedifficult to say how far he walked from the Tundra, but he kept the oldboat in sight, and when he blew on the whistle, the fog rolled in thick and heavyfrom the sea, coiling about the ship in fat, heavy twists that were still toothick and too normal to be of the Spiral. They shared… It could hardlybe called an alliance.

It issimply that they were too similar to easily destroy one another, case in point –Peter walked, never lost, over the beach, looking out over the plains that nowmade up Essex. It would be a long, long walk, were it not for the souls in theLonely to nourish him, as he made his way west.

He couldfollow the Thames.

Evenspiralling, twisting, he knew her well enough to follow her home.

–

He laid Tadeusdown outside London. He didn’t even need to bury him: the brick of the cobblesshifted and twisted about his body until it was swallowed down beneath thebrick and brick and earth and earth, and Peter walked on, into the city. Thecorridors made by too-tall buildings twisted unnaturally, but Peter kept on astraight path, forcing them to spiral around him.

He heardthe screams, of course.

They weredistant, tangled up amidst their own insanities, so caught up as to forget to evenbe lonely. It was tragic, in a way.

So close tothat beautiful perfection, and yet so, so far away—

The MagnusInstitute was dark, but Peter didn’t need much light to traverse the strange,unnatural corridors. The scant oil light allowed him enough to see his way, andhe moved down the corridors in search of Jonah’s— of James’—

—of Elias’office.

The door creakedloudly when Peter pushed it open, although he knew that Elias was near obsessiveabout keeping the hinges oiled, to avoid such pedestrian displays oftheatricality. In the dark, he saw the still new, still not-quite-familiar shapeof Elias’ body on the floor, and he actually felt a twinge of panic before heconfirmed that Elias was sitting up and supporting his own weight, even thoughhe was on the ground.

He wasleaned forward, his knees drawn halfway up toward his chest, his arms looselywrapped around his knees, his hand curled into his usually perfectly-coiffed hair.Peter stared down at him, scarcely silhouetted by the oil light from the corridor.

“Sulking,are you?” Peter asked, and in the half-light he saw Elias’ mouth fall open, sawhis head rise. So much emotion could be gleaned from that slackening jaw, thatgasp of eager relief.

“Peter?”Elias asked, and Peter chuckled lowly, taking a slow step forward in the dark,his hands sliding into his coat pockets. Elias was facing away from him, halfof his face still in shadow, and Peter reached out, sliding his hand into Elias’hair. Elias did not go so far as to sigh, but he did lean his head minutely backinto Peter’s hand, which was the biggest sign of distress Peter could hope for.

“Hi, honey,”he purred. “I’m home. Guess Gertie took her attention off the pot, hm?”

“She madeto intervene,” Elias said lowly. “Evidently, the intervention in question wasinsufficient. Welcome unto the Great Twisting, Peter. Do enjoy your stay.”

“You and Iare better suited than most,” Peter said mildly. “Better the Spiral than theDesolation – or, God forbid, Hunt. I hate running. It’s undignified.”

Elias’ headturned slightly wrong toward him. He did not turn to face Peter, but turned hisear to listen to him, and yet the angle at which he listened was… Hm.Peter gently scratched over Elias’ scalp, and then stepped around Elias to lookat his face.

The gapingsockets that were once his eyes were scraped clean, blood stained rusty-red onhis cheeks and his forehead. Peter suppressed the twin urges to gasp and toclutch Elias close to him; equally, he felt a surge of distant triumph.

“Oh, Elias,”Peter murmured, feeling the grin come to his mouth and hoping that Elias wouldbe able to hear it in his voice. “I see. Obviously, you aren’t using youreyes sufficiently, so why should you get to keep them?”

“You assumeit was my patron that took my eyes?” Elias asked, but his lips quivered. Helooked deliciously pale, and his skin was chalky – the terror rolled off of himin waves, the fear of blindness, of not knowing, and of course, of course, of beingalone. It was such a lovely thing, to see Elias vulnerable, withoutthe Eye to protect him. “I might have removed them myself.”

“No,” Petersaid.

“… No,”Elias agreed, and Peter’s hand cupped Elias’ cheek.

“I alwaystold you, darling, that my work came with more benefits than yours.”

“Because youlooked only for the benefits,” Elias said, disapproval dripping from his voice,and Peter tipped his chin up to look better at the bloody, empty sockets, toadmire the smoothness Elias’ patron had punished him with. “Your worship wasnever selfless.”

“And yethere I am, rewarded,” Peter purred, “whilst you are shivering in your sanctum,blinded, and afraid.”

Elias shuddered,and Peter cupped his cheeks, sliding his thumbs over the stubble on Elias’cheeks – he couldn’t shave, of course, without a razor, and he had no doubtbeen alone in the spiral for days on end. He leaned in, closer, brushed hislips against Elias’, felt how cool they were, felt how he shivered, and thensurged in for more, wanting for the heat of Peter’s tongue and his mouth, theassurance that Peter was here, and real.

It was forthat reason that Peter broke them apart, and the broken noise Elias releasedfrom the very back of his throat was an ecstasy of sublime proportions, adelicious morsel that settled on Peter’s tongue, and he savoured it. Theworld had gone mad, gone mad and abandoned the monster that was Elias Bouchard,and now he was there for the taking.

“I can killyou, if you like,” Peter said softly.

“Just soyou can be alone?” Elias asked, raising his head just slightly. “Is that whatyou offered Tadeus?”

“You knowme so well,” Peter murmured. “I’d offer to keep you safe, sweetheart, butblind, powerless? You’d be such a liability.”

“Very well,”Elias said, smooth as butter. “Leave me, then.”

He alwaysdid have an infuriating habit of calling Peter’s bluffs.

“You’re noteven going to tell me, with the world ended and everyone going mad, that you’reglad to see me alive?”

“I’m afraidI don’t see you alive, Peter,” Elias murmured, and Peter laughed,shoving Elias in the centre of the chest. Elias went down hard and fast – hemust have been, Peter mused, starving. He couldn’t take in his usual sustenance,watching all that went on, and food in a world like this, real food, realnourishment, was near impossible to trust. Peter hadn’t looked yet, of course,but he knew it – you’d think it was food until you touched it, tastedit, swallowed it, and then you’d find it was razorblades, or worms, or—

It was a lotof effort, keeping a pet like Elias.

Uppity, andirritable, and powerless in the way a human never could be – blindness wasn’tjust a loss of sight for him, but a loss of centre, of knowledge, ofunderstanding, of all he was. All he was now, all he was left over,was Peter’s.

Elias’ headtouched against the carpet on the floor, and Peter loomed over him, his forearmsbraced either side of his head, and Peter could see Elias’ face, the solemnityin it, the quiet, distant pain. It had nothing to do with Peter, nor with beinglonely. Peter supposed it must be dreadfully hard going, to give up as much asElias had to one’s god, and be rejected for it.

What theBeholding didn’t want, Peter was glad to take up instead.

“You werewaiting in the dark,” Peter said, “to die.”

“I thoughtyou were already dead,” Elias said softly. His eyes used to be so beautifullycold: Peter used to fantasize about drowning in them.

“You know,”Peter murmured, “if we put the world back together, your dear patron might giveyou your eyes back.”

“Hope?”Elias asked, and then laughed, low and dark and hoarse. “I changed my mind,Peter. Kill me.”

Peterkissed him instead, as the floor beneath them twisted into fractal afterfractal, shattering into infinity like mad, mad glass.

#peter lukas #elias bouchard #lonelyeyes #leftofrevolution #as defined by dictionary #answered

[fauveshumankaiju]

Jet Jaguar stops a crime

Nothing - no sound - except for the rumble of the patrol car's engine and the crunch of tires on gravel, as the station wagon headed down the street that demarcated downtown Monsuta from the beachfront. Gigan's head was pounding, and he squeezed his eyes shut as the wedge of pain pressed against the inside of his temple. He leaned his head against the window, cool from the night air.  There was hair in his mouth, and blood in his mouth, too.

The cop sitting behind the metal net hadn't spoken to him since he'd cuffed him and gallantly invited him into the back seat to take him down to the station. Gigan joked that he needed his frequent flier card stamped, since it would be the third time he'd spend the night in the closet-sized holding cell for getting into a fight during which Jet Jaguar appeared, like magic, to intervene in other people's business yet again. The cop couldn't take a hit worth a damn, but he had a wicked left hook and a police baton that really left a mark. Gigan used to mock him about it before they started grappling - buy me a drink first before you pull out the toys, big boy - but tonight they'd just gotten right down to it. Fights were always fast with Jet Jaguar, he didn't showboat like Goji and Gigan. All business, no play.

Do you ever take a night off? Iron your underwear? Darn your dickies? Gigan'd sneered. Then he'd gotten knocked out for, like, five seconds, with a club upside the head. He didn't even remember that Megalon'd been there when he came to.  He’d been left alone against fucking Goji, the human grain thresher. Megalon was a big guy, he'd grown up in Monsuta and he knew how to protect himself, Gigan knew, but still, it was always the two of them against Goji until Gigan had let himself get distracted by his favorite new toy.  And Megalon? he'd do whatever Gigan told him to. As usual. 

Gigan looked over at the seat next to him, empty, flashing as they passed by streetlamp outside.

"Did you see where Megalon went?"  He asked.  His mouth was flooded with thin coppery blood and stinging pain again. He'd bitten his cheek. "After you arrested me, you know."  Silence from the front seat.  Gigan exhaled through pursed lips. 

"Hey, it wasn't his fault. I dragged him into this shit. I just hope he didn't get piledrived back there. Do you ever get bothered knowing that Goji's better at keeping the peace round here than you ever will be? Huh?"

More silence. Oh, this was the game he was playing. Gigan was in a mood, though, and he was pretty good at getting what he wanted.

"What are you even here for, man? We never had any cops here when we needed them, now as soon as we're cleaning up our act they stick the most useless pig in the bunch here to slap us around. And you can't even do your job! You got taken out by fucking Megalon! If you meant business, you could have cleaned up this whole city by now! How many times have you taken me in then let me out with fucking community service? Jesus christ, when are you gonna suck it up and do something about all of us monsters, the villains, the ghetto, illiterate unworthy - the scum that you were sent here to put in jail so that you all can lead your perfect little bougie lives and forget about the people that got beaten down and left behind? But you're not gonna do that, are you?"

Still no comment. The heater in the front seat hissed quietly.

Gigan continued, leaning back into the chair vituperously. "You're too nice. No, you're too weak, Jaguar. You wanna get kittens down from trees and shit, eat donuts and get fat, get a nice cushy job where you can forget the guns and tasers and batons that keep you guys in power, but god forbid you actually have to get off your ass and use them. You're just going to keep letting Goji do your dirty work because you're too precious to do it yourself. You're never gonna get our town's respect. You're never gonna get her respect. You don't deserve it. But thank god, you can die alone and useless knowing that you got to be nice."

He let that hang in the air. His cheek was bleeding again, staining his gums with the taste of salt. Jet Jaguar moved, behind the metal screen, and Gigan saw him slowly adjust the mirror above him, fidgeting with it so that he and Gigan could see each other's eyes.  Gigan still had his visor on, glowing faintly in the night-time darkness, and he could just barely see the cop's face.  He shifted back into his seat, feeling anger and bitterness clawing at the inside of his chest.

"What?" He spat.

A moment.  Then, "Do you feel any better now?"

"No. I think you concussed me. I need to get medical attention."

Jet Jaguar's eyes flicked forward and he continued driving. Gigan licked the front of his teeth. "Did you hear me?"

"... Megalon's okay. Goji doesn't have a problem with him, she'll leave him alone."

"Don't fucking talk about Megalon."

"You asked, Gigan."

Gigan rolled his head back. The leather headrest was cool and tacky against his bare scalp. ".. Yeah."

"If you want, I'll call him and have him pick you up at the station if you can make bail."

"Doubt it."

They stopped at an intersection. The rest of the street was completely deserted, illuminated by the ghostly red glow from the streetlight. The adrenaline was wearing off, and as it slipped out of his veins it took that inchoate anger with him, too. He was tired, now, aching all over. His head rang, his meat-arm was bruised, his prosthetic arm needed to be sanded down. 

"He must really care about you."

Gigan blinked. "Megalon?"

"Yeah."

"Mm."

"Good friend."

Gigan closed his eyes. "Don't talk about him."

"Why?"

"Because!" he snapped. "You don't - ugh!"

"I don't deserve too?" Jet Jaguar asked, softly and with no accusatory inflection. Like it was a normal thing to say.

Gigan pursed his lips. "You don't know how it is, man."

Silence from the front seat.

"You just don't. I don't either." Another moment, more rasping breaths. "He's good. He's a good person."

"Yeah?"

"Not like, not like - nice, you know. You're nice. He's good.  There's a difference." Gigan gesticulated, rattling the handcuffs. "The main difference being that he doesn't piss me off nearly as much as you do."

Jet Jaguar huffed in what Gigan thought might possibly be amusement. 

Gigan looked out the window, watching the telephone poles roll slowly past. The cop sure wasn't burning rubber on the way to the station tonight, was he? "I mean, he gets on my fucking nerves sometimes. He's not the brightest, book-wise - or street-wise, either, really. I dunno how he's survived this long with nothing going on up in the old skull. I guess he always found assholes like me to hang out with and keep him safe."

"It doesn't seem to me like you're keeping him safe."

"Hey, don't start with me," Gigan grumbled. "You're the one who beat us up."  

No response. "Sure, we were committing a crime, but come on."

Jet Jaguar didn't respond.

"Okay, yeah. I don't always keep him safe. But this is Monsuta, nobody's safe. Even the people that are supposed to keep us safe -" he gestured to Jet Jaguar, clinking his cuffs together "-are more worried about knocking us down than helping us up. You've got to be smart and tough and he's only kind of tough."

"He's good."

"N-yeah, I mean, he's a good person. I think he wants to do the right thing, he wants to help people, but that's not really possible here.  Not that I make it easy for him."  He thought for a moment, looking out the window at the streets he'd stalked through so many evenings. "I don't think I'm a good person, you know. Megalon, he wants to help people. He wants to do his thing at Seatopia and keep all his animals safe, I don't know, teach people about aquariums and shit and keep to himself. He doesn't want to hurt people. I just-" he sighed. "I'm not like that. I like hurting people. I'm a bad person. I don't always wanna be, even though it keeps me safe here it makes me feel like shit when I get him into trouble."  He tried to say it in a matter-of-fact tone, but it came out a little warbled, a little raw. He'd thought it plenty of times before; it was a mantra in his head, you're a bad person, you're a bad person, but he'd never said it out loud like he meant it.

"You don't sound happy about that," Jet Jaguar said conversationally after an awkward amount of time had passed.  Gigan blinked.

"What, should I be proud of the fact that I'm a monster that ruins everything in my life?"  He wiggled his prosthetic fingers weakly. "I can't even keep myself in one piece, man. I don't know why I keep trying to hold onto things, hold on to people, when I'm just going to destroy them eventually. Useless."

"Seems to me like a bad person wouldn't be worrying about whether or not they're a bad person, right?"

"Oh, fuck off it," Gigan sneered. 

"Just saying."

Gigan picked at one of the scratches across his prosthetic arm, worrying at the edge of a tear in the plastic. "I want." He took a breath, then started again. "I wish I could be better. I don't care about being nice, niceness never did anything for anyone. But I wish I could've been born a good person. A better one."

The car rolled to a stop. Gigan was still looking at the ceiling, wondering why the hell he was having a heart-to-heart with the police officer that knocked him out and arrested him (again) at three in the morning.  He looked out when he heard rustling. Time to get out and head to the cell for the night. Ah, he could already feel the metal bars of the cot there digging into his shoulders from under the wafer-thin mattress. Thank god there was only one cop in town, who only had enough time to arrest one person per night.

Jet Jaguar was looking at him, framed by the heavy metal mesh, barely visible in the low light. He looked tired, a little resigned.

They weren't at the police station, Gigan noted.

"Did you take me out here to kill me?" he asked, annoyed. They were by the beach; the concession stand was only a few yards away.

"You aren't born a good person, Gigan," Jet Jaguar said, with the tone of voice that an exhausted parent would use for their inconsolable baby. "It's not genetic, and it has nothing to do with where you grew up. Megalon grew up here - Mothra grew up here - and they're good people, Gigan, right down to the very core. And it's not because they were born that way."

Gigan wanted to interrupt, but something about the cop's tone - how it was sad and a little desperate instead of how preachy it usually was - quieted him.

"You make choices every day, little choices, big, life-changing choices, and you have two options. You can to the good thing, or the less good thing. You get to decide what rules you use to tell which one's good and which one's less good, the golden rule, some kind of religious scripture, but you get a choice, and the good one's almost always harder. Good people are just the people that look at that choice and decide to do the thing that's a little more good and a little less easy, or less pleasant, or less remunerative. And you keep doing that over and over until you don't have any more choices. Most of those choices aren't ever going to count for anything, but if you practice with the little things - recycling your coffee cup, that kind of thing - then the big hard good choices are easier. That's all it is. Choices. Making the good choice as much as you can."

He turned back to the steering wheel. "Birth doesn't have anything to do with it, thank god. You've got your choices, Gigan, you can choose the better thing whenever you want. Any time you're ready to start.

Gigan rubbed his eye. His hand came away with a streak of motor oil.  "Hate that, chief."

"It's the truth." The cop turned back around and undid the latch to the door of the screen separating the two of them and leaned into the back seat, grunting with exertion.

"Seriously, are you gonna kill me?"

"Nope." He held up his little key so that Gigan could see it glinting red in the light from his visor. "Hands."  Gigan presented his handcuffs, holding them up so that Jet Jaguar could fumble for the keyhole in the darkness and unlock them with a deafening click.

"What's this?" Gigan asked. Everyone in Monsuta knew that gifts like this didn't come without a price, especially from cops. Jet Jaguar took the handcuffs and maneuvered himself back into the front seat, still facing Gigan like he was peering through a little window.

"This would be your third felony physical assault on a police officer. You'll be tried in the state court instead of the local one this time, and I can tell you, they don't look very kind at all on violence against the force. You're looking down the barrel of 10 to 15, more, if they decide to make an example out of you for your preexisting record. There's nothing any of us could do to stop it if you got booked for it tonight."

Gigan looked out the window. He vaguely remembered being warned about the three strikes policy last time he was brought in, but he was too worked up about Megalon leaving his precious Suzuki in the middle of the road when he'd gotten arrested that he didn't pay much attention to it.

"... Yeah, that sounds about right."

Jet Jaguar sighed. "See, this is my choice. Jail's not going to do anything good for you. It'll make me feel a hell of a lot better, but really, you didn't do 10 to 15 years' worth of damage to me. You might hurt other people in the future, but.. I don't know." He shook his head. "It'd be a lot easier to put you in jail and forget about you. It's what I'm supposed to do. But I don't know if it's a good thing to do. I think - and I'm not trying to be your youth pastor or anything - I think you could give the whole being a good person thing one more real, good try. It'd be a lot better for the world to have you out here trying than in jail, failing."

There was a click as Jet Jaguar unlocked the cars' doors.

"So go on, get out. I need to go home and ice my head."

Gigan gave him a long look, clenching his sore jaw, torn between spitting this aching, condescending pity back in his face, and taking what scraps of decency he'd been thrown and running with it. He deserved to go down. He'd committed enough crimes to warrant jail, definitely. It'd be an honorable way to go, in Monsuta, put in jail for the rest of your life for punching too many cops. But that would be the easy choice. Easy to give up, because bad people could never change and it wasn't worth the extra few weeks he'd scrape by with before he got his third strike. Easy to accept that petty thievery and violence was the best that his life was going to come to; honestly, who expected any better from him? Not Gigan, that's for sure. 

Would it be the good choice to make, though?

Oh, for fuck's sake, he was already starting to think like Jet Jaguar. You beat a guy up a couple of times...

He leaned over and snapped the car handle defiantly, heaving up a leg to kick the door open and lurching out into the cool night air. Jet Jaguar had driven them up to the curb on the beach - Gigan could see Goji's house from here, the lights inside flickering in the distance, Monsuta spread out beyond Jet Jaguar's patrol car. He slammed the door closed after himself.

"Hey," Jet Jaguar said collegially, rolling down the window an inch and peering out. He was smiling. "Have a good night. And don't do anything Megalon wouldn't."

The cop rolled up the window and started the car, rolling off down the driveway and back onto the street. Gigan watched him go, not entirely willing to believe that he wasn't going to turn  right around and pick him back up again once Jet Jaguar realized what he'd done. But he didn't, and Gigan was left out on the beach next to the darkened concession stand, listening to the waves lapping at the shore.

Megalon would be making his way back to his apartment now, if he wasn't back already, Gigan thought. Probably waiting for Gigan to call him from the holding cell asking for bail again. He thought of his open, eager face and his soft broad shoulders, his soft broad decency, and suddenly wanted to bury himself in the fuzzy lining of his oversized jacket.  Don't do anything Megalon wouldn't.

Okay, he thought. I think I can do that.  Okay.

#gigan quietly: what the fuck what the fuuuuuck #alt name: sorry about the blood in your mouth #alt alt name: gigan JJ buddy cop heart to heart #writing #I'm sorry this is COMPLETELY UNBETAD except for the spellcheck on this computer sdhkjdhf #just take it... I'm tirèd #ok im a lil proud of the ~2 hrs of work that went into this illustration-story combo #gigan #JJ

[hermannsthumb]

18. wine tasting that leads into 9. Ghost tour, drunk ghost tour!!!

from autumn fic meme here: 18. wine tasting + 9. ghost tour

this one was especially fun bc i am a biggggg fan of ghost tours myself, and i got to make up a bunch of fake lore for the “haunted house” hehe. you can decide where this is set……. (content warning for alcohol!)

—————————————–-----------------------------------------

One of the rare occasions that Hermann actually acknowledges that he and Newt are a thing and lets Newt use romantically-coded words like boyfriend or love or feelings to refer to the two of them–instead of just a terse and incredibly vague this is my partner, Newton when he needs to introduce him to a colleague at work–is on their anniversary. Not that he’ll call it their anniversary, of course. It’s always that time of year again or their special day or flowers thrust quickly at Newt and a kiss pressed to his cheek while he’s brushing his teeth in the morning. Anniversary is too serious. Too intimate. And God forbid Hermann Gottlieb be intimate with someone; it took a month after they got together for him to even take his shirt off in front of Newt. Newt doubts he’ll even let him use the word when they eventually get hitched.

Anyway, it’s that special Time of Year again, Their Day, and Newt has taken it upon himself to book them a weekend getaway. Their first weekend getaway. Usually, for Their Day, they just sit at home and make out or something until their forgotten dinner burns in the oven, but Newt’s determined for them to start acting like an actual couple. Actual couples do things for their anniversaries, like go out to fancy overpriced restaurants. Or have beach vacations. Or rent a room in a cozy mountainside inn (surrounded by beautiful autumn foliage) for a weekend for a wine tasting.

“Yes,” Hermann says, “but most couples don’t go out of their way to hunt down a wine tasting in the most–allegedly–haunted inn possible.”

“That’s because most couples are boring,” Newt says. “We’re not boring. We’re cool.” He clinks his wine glass against Hermann’s. “And don’t say allegedly. It is haunted. I did my research.” He takes the suggested tiny sip of his wine (a sweet dessert wine that tastes more like straight-up honey than any wine Newt’s ever had before) and forces a measure of false casualness into his voice. “They, uh, have ghost tours and everything.”

Hermann groans and sets his glass down. “Oh, Newton, you didn’t.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Newt says.

Newt does know, and he did. Wine tastings are fun and all, and it’s a nice excuse to get Hermann to gussy up a little (because that grey suit he’s rocking tonight combined with his tidied hair is making Newt feel all kinds of hot and bothered) but they’re also a little boring. And gross. Spitting into a bucket for two hours while a bunch of wine snobs sniff their glasses and eat tiny crackers? Boring. Newt’s preferred method of ingesting wine is sticking a curly straw into a box of Sunset Blush Franzia and waking up on the bathroom floor twelve hours later. He just thought–well–he could spice up the experience a little. Especially since it’s October. People do these sorts of things in October. It’s seasonably appropriate.

“Look,” Newt says. “The ghost tour starts at eight, right when this ends, and it’s only an hour. Only around the inn. I already bought us tickets when I booked the place–”

“Newton,” Hermann groans again.

“–but we don’t have to do it!” Newt says, in a way that makes it clear he’d really like to do it. “I just thought it could be fun.”

Hermann scowls at him a bit more, but his shoulders sag. Probably doesn’t care enough to put up more of a fight. “We have a gas fireplace and a bathtub the size of a bloody swimming pool in our suite,” he says, “and you’d rather creep around in the dark and play paranormal investigator. I shall never understand you, Newton.” He takes a long sip of his wine. He doesn’t spit this one out. “I’ll be picking where we go next year. Now fetch us more red.”

“Next year,” Newt echoes happily.

“Don’t push your luck,” Hermann warns.

They have more red, and then they have more white, and then they round it out with some rose, by which point Hermann seems to have given up all pretenses of the tasting factor. Hermann is not tasting; Hermann is imbibing. Copiously. “I revoke my earlier complaints,” Hermann declares, after sloshing half a glass of prosecco down his poor clean shirt and grey suit, “this is a marvelous idea, Newton. I’m–” He sloshes more prosecco onto the tablecloth. “Enjoying myself. A great deal.”

Oh, jeez. “Oh, jeez,” Newt says. “Hey, babe, uh, maybe you should lie down for a bit, before–”

“No,” Hermann says. “I feel very fine. You ought to try this.”

He swings his glass towards Newt, and refuses to allow him to push it away until he’s had a sip. “It’s good,” Newt says, because of course it is–every single bottle here has been fucking great, and fucking expensive, as shit. He gets another taste of it (and about three other wines) a second later when Hermann swoops in and kisses him with no small amount of tongue. “Hermann,” he mumbles, “people are staring.”

Tipsy Hermann is a different breed of Hermann that never ceases to straight-up weird Newt out. It’s like all Hermann’s carefully constructed layers of repression finally unravel like a ball of yarn, like someone’s finally popped his cork and tossed out his filter and let every single mushy, horny thought he’s ever had come pouring out. Tipsy Hermann is handsy. Tipsy Hermann is flirty. Tipsy Hermann calls Newt things like lover and pretty thing and even just ooh, Newton with a little giggle and twirl of Newt’s hair.

Newt thinks he probably should’ve been keeping a closer eye on how much Hermann was drinking; he thinks this especially when they move on from the tasting (with two newly purchased, at Hermann’s insistence, and unopened bottles of the prosecco in Newt’s tote bag) to the ghost tour, and Hermann can barely keep himself upright, even with all his weight shifted to his cane, and Newt has to practically hold him. He’s going to be pissed at Newt for his hangover tomorrow. Because of course he’ll blame Newt.

Their tour guide is a young woman, probably an undergrad at the nearby college working the gig part time, dressed up in old-timey Victorian-looking clothing with an actual lit candelabra. She seems to enjoy her job, at least: she explains the logistics of the tour with a lot of enthusiasm and a lot of wild, animated gestures. (It’s an hour long, they’ll be walking up and down no more than two flights of stairs, one of the tour’s usual stops will be off-limits tonight due to construction, please silence your cell phones, she’s excited to be their hostess tonight!) “You sure you can manage?” Newt whispers to Hermann.

Hermann reaches up and tugs at Newt’s earlobe. “Certainly,” he says.

A hard maybe.

Their tour guide leads them to the narrow front lobby, and they file in in a circle around her as she begins to explain the inn’s origin. It was built in 1823 as a manor; it was converted into the building it is now during the 1870s; the room they’re in now was originally the parlor. “The painting above the fireplace is as old as the house,” she says. “It’s been hanging in that same spot since 1823.”

“Bloody ugly painting,” Hermann snorts.

Newt swats at Hermann. “Dude,” he hisses back.

“I’m only saying,” Hermann says. “They ought to burn it.”

Their tour guide didn’t hear, thankfully, and has gone on into describing the paranormal events of the former parlor. “You can still catch whiffs of his cigar smoke,” she says (referring to the original owner, whose name Newt missed, thanks to Hermann), “and some people have even claimed to spot a dark figure sitting in the armchair in the corner–” It’s faded emerald and ratty as hell, with a small velvet rope blocking it off from the rest of the newer furniture, “–also an original piece of the house, and his favorite spot while he was alive.”

The tour guide leads them down to the creepy basement next (haunted by the ghost of a former maid who’d been brutally murdered by the eldest son of the house–her lover–in 1859 and buried there), up to the kitchen (where servant bells still go off, despite the system being nonoperational and purely for show since the ‘70s), over to the bar (hidden behind a sliding wall throughout Prohibition and only recently re-discovered, where stools move on their own and translucent patrons flit around after closing) up more stairs to the former master bedroom-turned-unoccupied grand suite (where faucets turn on by themselves and strange shadows glide across the antique mirror), down the hall to the nursery-turned-honeymoon suite (where toys turn up out of thin air and ghostly babies cry in the middle of the night).

“‘S all rubbish,” Hermann declares at that bit. Still not loud enough for their tour guide to hear–not yet, anyway–but loud enough that a handful of people in their immediate vicinity turn and frown at him. “Ghosts are rubbish. Not real. I reckon they put--” He waves his hand. “Speakers, in the vents.”

“We fought off giant interdimensional aliens,” Newt says, grinning despite himself, “and ghosts are what you have a problem with?”

Hermann immediately gets snooty. “Kaijus–” (Newt cringes, because come on, how many times does Newt have to explain you don’t need the s?) “–had a logical reason for being here. And there was proof. Loads of it.”

“Stop being such a buzzkill,” Newt laughs. “This is just for fun, dude. No one gives a shit about proof.”

“That much is obvious,” Hermann sniffs.

“Is there a problem?” their tour guide suddenly says. She looks completely earnest, too, not angry at them for talking–like she’s genuinely worried Hermann’s upset or offended about something. 

“No,” Newt cuts in quickly. He wraps his arm around Hermann’s waist and pinches his side to shut him up. It has the opposite effect of what he wants: Hermann doesn’t look affronted, but instead, very pleased at the sudden touch, snootiness evaporating. Of course. “Forgive my partner. We, uh, just got done with the wine tasting, and he missed the memo on spitting.” He cracks another grin.

There’s a small chuckle throughout the crowd that turns awkward fast when Hermann turns to him and says, in a faux whisper (too loud, too flirty, face too close to Newt’s), “I thought you preferred when I swallow.”

Newt chokes on air; he turns bright red. “Hermann!”

The tour ends on a mildly disappointing note. Their guide takes them up to the attic and passes around quote-unquote EMF detectors, with the promise that almost every group (to date) has caught something up here with them, but after twenty minutes of waving the little boxes around with not even the smallest beep it’s very clear their group will not be joining that number. If Hermann was sober, he’d probably say I told you so. He’s not, so instead, Newt says goodbyes and thank-yous for both of them, and Hermann collapses face-first into their ridiculous canopy bed almost the very second Newt gets him through the door of their suite. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes first. Or drop his cane--he’s still gripping the handle.

Newt shucks off his docs and tie, moves Hermann’s cane to rest against the clawfoot bedside table, and flops down next to him. He pokes Hermann’s shoulder. “You are not allowed to blame me for this tomorrow,” he says. “You got it?”

“Whatever for?” Hermann mumbles, sleepily, into his pillow.

“The hangover you’re absolutely going to get,” Newt says, “and for dropping sex life bombs on a group of strangers. That was all you, buddy. All you.”

Hermann turns on his side to face Newt, though he doesn’t bother opening his eyes. “You’re being awfully loud. Will you turn off the light, please?”

“Ugh. Fine.”

Newt has to shuffle all the way across the room to switch off the ancient floor lamp, and by the time he gets back, Hermann is already halfway to snoring, mouth open, drool at the corner of it, dress shirt rucked up from his waistband. It’s impossible to stay mad at him when he looks this cute. “I love you, you weirdo,” Newt says fondly, and leans in and kisses his forehead.

“Mm,” Hermann agrees.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

[kamilahmademedoit]

The Talk (Mona x MC)

As part of RoD appreciation week, I’m posting this fic now, although it was almost done at least a month ago. It’s slightly AU, set a few years after the main events, Mona and MC are no longer on the run. I just want to see them have a regular life… sigh. Anyway, no warnings except for language and some implications.

Cutsey chubby baby cheeks, and little baby feet moving aimlessly in all directions, and that little button of a nose… ohmygod, the baby was smiling at her, a bit of saliva running down his chin and just… ugh, Ellie’s heart was melting on that interesting verge between tenderness and aggression. She stuck out her tongue at the baby and he looked at her with curiosity, then giggled the way only babies did and wiggled in his stroller, reaching his little hands for her. 

His father didn’t bother much, just glanced over at Ellie a few times as if to make sure she wasn’t thinking of kidnapping his offspring, what with the way she was staring with this wide maniacal grin. Here they were, the three of them waiting outside a baby store on a warm Saturday evening with the sun still fighting for a spot in the sky. The dad was looking at his phone rather absorbed by whatever it was he was reading, the baby was fascinated with Ellie, and Ellie… she was this close to throwing away all rules of propriety and snuggling up the little bundle without so much as asking for permission first. 

Then she noticed in the corner of her eye Mona stepping out of the store, shopping bag hanging on her arm as she was putting away her purse. Ellie immediately turned away from the baby, startled, God forbid Mona got the wrong idea about this whole thing and decided Ellie might actually…  

“All fixed”, Mona announced, looking up at Ellie, her face that of a person who just had someone else deal with an annoying issue. “We even got a discount to make up for the mix-up.”

“Oh”, Ellie acknowledged simply and leaned in to look at the bag. “Too bad they didn’t have the one with the bees pattern for one-year-olds. But this one is cute too.”

“It’s adorable, are you kidding, look at the little mice, I mean, c’mon…”, Mona’s face lit up for a moment, her grin so sincere, mellowing down all the hard edges. Ellie gazed at her adoringly before leaning in for a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Let’s go, we’re late enough as it is,'' she urged her gently and walked a few strides ahead. 

Mona just now noticed the baby. She gave the little munchkin a smile, noticing how he smiled right back, his puff baby mouth twisting in that amusing way. Mona made a funny face at him, then turned away, catching up to Ellie. 

They hadn’t seen Riya and Kevin in quite a while. They missed Trina’s first birthday because their flight got delayed, leaving them stuck at the airport on the way back from New York, and then also ended up missing Kevin’s 30th birthday a few weeks later when Ellie’s father got hospitalised. Things turned out fine but Ellie was scared senseless for a few long hours before they got to him and the doctors reassured them it was a minor injury on the job. 

And now that Riya and Kevin had invited them over for dinner just to catch up, they were making up for the birthday parties missed by getting Trina and Kevin some overdue gifts, as well as a little toy giraffe for Sam, who was going to throw a tantrum if his little sister got something and he didn’t.

Riya and Kevin’s apartment building was just around the next corner and for once they made it barely 15 minutes late. As they entered the 10th floor apartment, however, a huge baby bump greeted them, followed by Riya’s wide grin and the satisfaction on her face as she saw how surprised they both were. 

“Oh my God, Riya…!” 

“I’m not that far along, it literally happened overnight, I swear.”

They exchanged a few more words over taking off jackets and making their way into the apartment, a curious toddler swiveling around their legs all the while making incomprehensible little noises.  

Kevin greeted them in the dining room, opening a bottle of red wine. He made his way to each of them for a quick kiss on the cheek. “So it’s no surprise any longer,'' he said between greetings. 

“Oh, I had a hard enough time keeping it secret”, Riya protested, giving him a cheeky smile.

They all sat around the table, little Sam climbing up ‘auntie Mona’s leg to sit in her lab, the stuffed giraffe already in his clumsy grip. As she was playing with him - a striking contrast between his baby talk and her slang - Ellie was talking to Riya, sparsely casting glances their way, noting how good Mona was at this. She wasn’t surprised, frankly, she had seen Mona interact with Kevin and Riya’s kids before. But something today made her feel that extra pull in her heart at the sight of Mona holding little Sam and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“So, obvi, we’ll have to skip that but I’d say it’s worth it”, Riya explained about their vacation plans. 

“Oh, no, totally”, Ellie agreed, shaking her head. “We get it, we don’t want your waters breaking on the beach”, she laughed light-heartedly, reaching for her wine glass. “Besides, we’ll have the whole house to ourselves, right, babe?”

“Hm?”, Mona turned her head in her direction, Sam having captured her attention completely. 

“I said we’ll have the beach house all to ourselves”, Ellie repeated, nodding her head toward Riya. 

“Ah, yeah, sure, don’t worry ‘bout it”, Mona brushed it off before being suddenly smacked with the stuffed toy across the face, Sam openly demanding for her attention. “Hey, man, what the heck, thought we were buddies!”, Mona protested, much to his delight.             

… 

Late night conversations in Mona’s car was their thing. Sometimes they would go for a drive with no particular destination, leaving LA behind, Mona joking about never returning… but always making their way back to their apartment. They would talk for hours, having spent the day apart, and in those nameless moments Ellie could feel herself on the other side of Mona’s walls, safe in the little fortress instead of banging on the door as she had done so many times before. 

On their way back from Riya’s they were both silent for most of the way. Ellie was pleasantly sedated by the one too many glasses of wine she’d had at dinner, her forehead rested on the window, the city lights blurring in her vision. Mona seemed to be somewhere else too, not in that detached, self-guarded way Ellie was well familiar with, but still, she was certainly in her head, only driving by instinct.

“So, should we…”, Mona broke the silence somewhat tentatively, Ellie’s head languidly turning in her direction. 

“Should we…?”

“Yeah, I mean”, Mona’s gaze was on the road as she switched lanes, her focus divided. “Have one of those.”

It took Ellie forever to figure out what her wife meant by that. She knew her well enough to have an educated guess but she was confused by the wording and besides, surely Mona didn’t mean to suggest… or did she? Mona cast a quick glance her way when Ellie delayed her response, brows furrowed in concern.   

“You want to have kids?”, Ellie asked for clarification, her eyes searching Mona’s face for a clue. She seemed dead-serious about it, whatever it was. 

“Don’t you?”, Mona turned the question on her. 

“Well, do you?”, Ellie arched an eyebrow, surprise coloring her face. Never had she imagined that Mona of all people would want to have the white picket fence life. Though, they were nowhere near that, their whole marriage so far as unconventional as they came, starting with the elopement in Vegas on the run…  

“I actually want to.”, Mona raised her voice as if arguing against a previous version of herself, a bit surprised at her own answer. 

“I do too…”, Ellie admitted softly, taking her gaze off Mona’s face to stare absently at the cars ahead. 

“Since when?”, Mona gave her a quick glance, already anticipating the answer. 

“Since always.”

“Can’t say the same for myself…”, a hoarse puff escaped her throat as she smirked. 

“Since when do you want to have kids?”, Ellie inquired looking at her wife as if seeing her for the first time. 

“Well, the idea kinda grew on me around Riya’s second.”

“And you’ve been thinking about it since?”, Ellie continued her little investigation, skepticism muffling her joy, making her cautious. 

“Been considering it, yes…”, Mona glanced at her again, eyes widening at the look on Ellie’s face. “Don’t be so shocked, gorgeous, I have my moments.”

“You have more than moments”, Ellie quipped softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, teasing Mona for her unexpected domesticity, her capacity for warmth and quiet marital contentment Ellie never thought she’d get to experience with her.    

…

The muted sound of chatter and laughter filled the lazy morning silence as the sun drenched every surface of their bedroom in soft peach hues, its rays illuminating the millions of tiny dust specks in the air. Mona always watched those talk shows with no headphones and Ellie would chuckle beside her as a particular line briefly caught her attention, never taking her eyes off the screen of her own phone, sometimes making Mona mentally guess whether it was the host or a meme on Pictagram extracting that laughter.

But Ellie was unusually quiet today, not really paying attention to whatever it was she was looking at on her phone, neither really hearing the host’s witty remarks about the president’s latest diplomatic visit. She slightly leaned forward to reach for her cup of coffee on the tray between them on the bed, then had a small sip and hummed at the bitter taste she loved. 

“It’s strong”, she remarked, pleased, not particularly addressing her wife but with the unspoken recognition that it was Mona who made coffee and breakfast this time. 

“I was thinking about what you said last night,'' Ellie added after a few moments passed as the audience erupted into laughter. 

“Hm?”, Mona didn’t even chuckle but neither did she take her eyes off the screen. “Oh, that? Don’t worry, babe, I don’t think he’ll really run for president again, I just meant if he did…”

“No, it’s not that… about having kids.”

The noise suddenly stopped as Mona hit pause. She looked at Ellie who was still holding the cup underneath her chin. 

“Yeah?”

“Well… how do we go about it?”, Ellie asked meeting her gaze, her deep brown eyes holding another question.  

“How do you wanna go about it?” Mona was unexpectedly solemn, the gravity of her resolve making Ellie now feel how real it all was.

“I was thinking… maybe I could get pregnant? Or you could! Or maybe… I could do it now and you do it the second time around?”      

“The second time around?”, Mona arched her eyebrows, a mix of surprise and amusement lighting up her face. “What if we have the little fucker and decide we’re done with parenthood?”

“Babe, once we have ‘the little fucker’ we can never be done with parenthood. Ever.”, Ellie explained gently, tilting her head.  

“I mean, I know, just… Let’s take it one baby at a time, okay?”, Mona chuckled, tracing Elie’s cheekbone with the back of her index finger. Elie closed her eyes, relaxing into her touch for a brief second. “Never wanted to be pregnant”, Mona continued, her eyes still glued to her wife’s face, her adoration now out in the open. “But I think I’d love to see you…”, she swallowed and lowered her hand, emotion suddenly too overwhelming. 

Elie’s gaze softened as she leaned to plant a tender kiss on the corner of her mouth. Mona pulled back. She looked at her wife with that familiar mischief in her eyes, then she took the breakfast tray that was still between them and carefully placed it on the floor on her side of the bed. With that obstacle out of the way, Mona grabbed Elie’s waist in her arms and pulled her under the duvet, covering her neck with butterfly kisses. 

“What, are we starting now?”, Ellie managed, laughter interrupting her sentence, as Mona’s kisses tickled and teased. 

“Ha, yeah, I wish it worked like that.”

“Mmm… if it did, last night should’ve done the trick.”, Elie giggle, her voice breaking into a gasp as Mona gently bit below her jaw.

#mona rod #choices rod #rod mona #rod #mona x mc #mona