#even though i live nowhere near either coast

[storiesbyrhi]

Serious Moonlight Tour

Eddie Munson x Reader

1771 words

Warnings: N/A

Synopsis: Meet cute. You’re going to be a music journalist, even if there’s no music scene in Hawkins.

Author’s Note: My first Eddie Munson fic because it was bound to happen. She’s back, baby. This one is dedicated to my best friend @kookygranger because since I met her, I’ve felt more sane, less alien, and filled with love.

It was as good as you were going to get in a place like Hawkins. The Hideout wasn’t exactly Madison Square Garden; hell, it wasn’t even really a venue. It was a grimy bar that sometimes let bands play from the corner of the room. There was no stage. There were no tickets. There was barely an audience, save for about five drunks that sat unaware that the town’s freaks and geeks were setting up equipment around them.

You picked a table that seemed the most out of the way and pulled out your notebook, laying it in front of you next to the glass of Coke you’d quietly ordered from the bar and crumpled set list you’d found in 1983.

In the days after you’d found it, you’d tried to ensure its longevity by using clear tape to cover the back and front. Almost waterproof and definitely tearproof, it was a makeshift solution but it had worked. The set list lived in your notebook, folded in half carefully. Having it all neatly out on the small round table put you in the right state of mind.

Part of you was playing pretend. Pretend professionalism. Like it was really your job. Like Rolling Stone has sent you out there, to the middle of nowhere Indiana. The other part of you though, wasn’t playing at all. It was escapism.

‘Corroded Coffin, The Hideout, 1986’ you wrote at the top of the page. ‘The band are already enthusiastic, not dismayed by the lack of a turnout for their weekly show.’

They bounced around, tuning guitars and mic checking. You wondered where they sat in the school social hierarchy, willing to bet it would be somewhere near the base. In the following week, you’d find out.

“I know leaving behind all your friends is going to be hard,” your father had said. “But you’ll make new ones.”

You had smiled at him and nodded, reassuring him that he’d done his fatherly duty. There were no real friends to leave behind, just people you spoke to when you absolutely had to. And, yeah, starting at a new school for senior year was going to be rough. The friendships had had a decade to form, and the cliques were all but set in stone.

That didn’t much matter to you. You weren’t there to make friends. You were there to coast, pick up your degree, and ride off into the sunset.

Still, you were sure that even you were probably going to have an easier year, socially speaking, compared to the four members of Corroded Coffin.

The drummer was cute enough, with curls and freckles. He had a baby face and all the red plaid and safety pins couldn’t save him from that.

Holding a guitar was a leather jacket clad guy with short dark hair. He was looking through a guitar case, a little frantic. The drummer was laughing at him.

On bass was a guy that looked too old to be in a high school band, but then again, so did the singer.

The singer was holding his guitar like if he took it off, he’d cease to exist. You were on the other side of the room but could still see the whites of his knuckles from where he was gripping the neck of the B. C. Rich Warlock tightly. He had long wavey hair and wore a denim vest that had pins and patches across it.

Metalheads like him were one of your favourite contradictions. All attitude and anarchy, but they had still learned the craft of sewing. Take that one, for example. At some point, he must have cut up a Dio t-shirt and sewn it onto the back of his vest. It was that or he had someone else do it for him; either way, a soft thing against an otherwise prickly social mask.

“Yeah, uh, thanks for coming out,” the singer said, looking around the room, grinning at the ridiculousness of his statement. He was playing a part too.

Their short set was a mix of covers – Iron Maiden and Judas Priest you recognised, the others were too metal for you to know – and two originals. He said that they were works in progress, the singer. “But you’re a good crowd, so what the hell.” They stood out from the other songs. You didn’t know enough about the genre to be able to articulate why, so you noted it down in your book.

‘Need to research: metal

KISS?

Idea for article: metal versus glam – men who wear makeup’

As the set ended, you clapped dutifully, then made your very quick exit before anyone could ask to see ID or the drunks woke up from their semi-sleep in the wake of the band’s sound.

Backpack on and pushing your bike from the parking lot, you heard a voice call after you. Naturally, you ignored it.

“Wait. You forgot this!”

That stopped you. It could be a line, you thought. Against your better judgement, you turned around and saw the band’s singer standing in the middle of the lot. He was holding up your 1983 set list. As you headed over to him, he looked at the piece of taped paper.

“Serious Moonlight Tour,” he read out loud. “25th of July, 1983. David Bowie,”

“Yeah,” you said, accepting it as he held it out to you.

“Were you there?”

“Uh-huh.”

He smiled and looked at you like he was expecting more. “Was it… good?” he asked.

“Life-changing,” you said. He waited again, holding back another grin. “My older brother took me for my birthday. It was my first real concert. We were all the way at the back, so when it was over we went down to the front, just to see the stage, you know? Found this in a pile of trash,” you told him. Was it the most information you had volunteered to a stranger? Possibly.

“I mean… He’s not really my type of music, but I got a lot of respect for him. You think he’s really an alien?”

You studied the singer’s face for a second, trying to figure out if he was being mean, like so many people had before. He wasn’t though.

“Do you think Ozzy Osbourne really bites the heads off bats?” you asked back, feeling brave.

He clapped his hands and jumped on the spot. “You know Black Sabbath? That’s impressive. You don’t look like the type,”

“What type do I look like?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“I don’t know…” he started, taking a dramatic step back and looking you up and down. “Not pop… None of that True Colours Madonna bullshit. Maybe some of that sad stuff like The Cure… I bet you like synth,” he paused briefly to play an invisible keyboard and smash his head up and down. It made you laugh, which he seemed proud of. “Everybody Wants To Rule The World, right?”

“You know Tears For Fears? You don’t look the type,” you replied.

“I’m a man of many interests,” he quipped.

“Right. Got to have that front man magic,”

“An enigma,” he agreed, bowing to you.

You nodded and looked back down at your Bowie set list. “Well, thanks, for this,” you began. 

He watched you put it in your backpack.

“I’m Eddie,” he offered, along with his hand outstretched.

“Uh… Hi,” you replied, then gave him your name. You shook the hand, feeling too hot and too cold. “Anyway, yeah, thanks, I’ve got to-” and you tried to leave because suddenly you could hear your heart beating.

“You said it was life-changing,” he interrupted. When you looked at him blankly, he clarified, “The show. Bowie. How… did it change your life?”

It was a big fucking question. Although you felt somewhere in your soul that this boy would probably understand if you poured your heart out about Bowie and music and poetry and gigs, you had never shared that part of you. You weren’t about to begin in the parking lot of The Hideout.

“It made me realise I want to be a writer. A music writer. Journalist,” you answered, truthful but simplified.

Eddie said your name, then "The Music Writer Journalist,” in a voice slightly deeper than his own. Maybe his radio show voice. The voice that introduces the band before they go on stage. “I’m not making fun,” he said quickly, reading your expression. “It’s… cool. Most people do the whole ‘I’m gonna start a band’ thing after they see a good show. Like that hasn’t been done to death,” he said, rolling his eyes in a self-referential joke. “You just want to see more music,”

“Yeah. I like… I don’t know… Watching people do what they love. Or something. I don’t know,”

“That’s… that’s cool… Is that what you were doing here? You gonna review us for the school paper or something?”

Nodding, you replied, “Not the school paper. I don’t… Publish. I just… write.” You shrugged and looked at him again.

Eddie was studying you carefully. He was trying to place you in the halls of Hawkins High. You were never there, he concluded, having been there long enough himself that he knew almost every face.

He didn’t want the conversation to be over, but he was worried the longer he tried to keep you there the more you’d think he was a creep. Besides, a cool new girl wearing a Dr Martens and an old trench coat was way too good for someone like him.

“Audiences can be a bitch,” he settled on, nodding with kindness. “I’ll, uh, let you go. Might see you around, yeah?”

You returned Eddie’s nod and moved to leave, getting on your bike and taking a breath.

He watched, unable to move. That spark of energy that lived in him, always there going off like a firecracker, pushing him to jump or yell or do something… anything, was vibrating his brain into goo.

“If you do end up writing about me- I mean, my band- the band, uh… I’d love to read it,” he said from behind you.

You glanced over at him, unsure of what to say. Again, you just nodded and offered a small wave.

Eddie waved back and watched as you peddled out of the lot and down the road, the streetlights illuminating your way. He stood there for a couple beats after you’d disappeared around a corner.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, kicking at the gravel.

“Yo, Eddie!” his bassist called from The Hideout’s door. “You get the girl?”

“Shut up!” Eddie yelled back, turning around and heading inside.

End Note: Thanks for reading. I'll be posting this to my AO3 as well. Comments, likes, and thoughts are always welcome! xo Rhi

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Eddie Munson x Reader #Stranger Things #Mine #Eddie Munson/Reader #Stranger Things Fanfic

[mariacallous]

As the United States was watching the skies in the aftermath of the spy balloon incident, China may have been acting at sea. In early February, maritime vessels disabled the two undersea cables connecting Taiwan’s Matsu Islands, a tiny archipelago just 10 nautical miles off China’s coast, to the internet. Now residents of the islands face highly reduced internet connectivity until the cables are repaired. The activity looks like targeted harassment by Beijing—or an exercise in preparation for cutting off the whole of Taiwan.

On Feb. 2, a Chinese fishing vessel sailing close to the Matsu Islands severed one of the two cables, which connect the islands with Taiwan proper. Then, six days later, a Chinese freighter cut the second cable. Speaking shortly after the second cable was cut, Wong Po-tsung, the vice chair of Taiwan’s National Communications Commission, told reporters that there was no indication the incidents were intentional. It’s not uncommon for undersea cables to be damaged—but losing two in a row is either really unfortunate or quite possibly not a coincidence. Either way, Matsu Islands residents are now left with only rudimentary internet access: The islands’ commercial telecommunications provider, Chunghwa Telecom (CHT), has set up free, round-the-clock Wi-Fi in its stores on the islands and launched a backup microwave system for phone calls and state communications.

The Matsu Islands’ 12,700 or so residents will have to live without the cables for many more weeks; a repair vessel will arrive on April 20 at the earliest, and the repairs will require further time. The residents have experience living with damaged undersea cables. CHT reports that the cables were damaged five times in 2021 and four times last year, though nowhere near as badly as this time. During such periods of impaired internet connectivity, “it would take more than 10 minutes to send a text message, and sending a picture would take even longer,” Lii Wen, the Matsu Islands head of the ruling Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), told the Taipei Times, adding that “the booking system in hostels and logistics services cannot function normally either, let alone viewing content and films on social media.”

With both cables down, even moderately slowed-down internet immobilizes daily life. Beijing is watching to see how island residents get on with this impediment to their existence—and to see how they manage to communicate with Taiwan proper. It’s also keeping close military watch of what it considers a renegade region. Taiwan’s offshore islands have always been its Achilles’s heel; in 1958, China shelled the Matsu Islands and the neighboring island of Kinmen. Last summer, the People’s Liberation Army Navy conducted large exercises near the island, purportedly in response to then-U.S. Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s visit to Taiwan, though their large and well-executed nature suggested they had been planned long in advance.

Indeed, it’s striking how often Chinese vessels have damaged the undersea cables connecting islands in recent years. It’s especially striking because it’s no mystery where the world’s 380 undersea cables are located. On the contrary, there are maps detailing their location to ensure that fishing vessels don’t accidentally harm them while dragging their nets. By and large, this works: The International Cable Protection Committee reports that each year there are between 100 and 200 cases of damage to the cables and only 50-100 of those incidents involve fishing vessels; the rest are the result of construction and other activity. The incidents involving damage to the cables connecting the Matsu Islands are, in other words, disproportionately frequent.

What’s more, to date they have primarily involved the Chinese excavators that park themselves off the islands and dig up sand (which I wrote about for Foreign Policy last year). Given that undersea cables have a diameter of 17-21 millimeters (roughly the size of a garden hose), it would require an unbelievable amount of bad luck to accidentally damage them as often as Chinese vessels do—let alone to take out two in a row.

Chinese excavators parking themselves in Taiwanese waters and taking Taiwanese sand are classic gray-zone aggression: It’s not a military attack, but it’s also not nothing. Indeed, every time they appear, Taiwanese coast guard vessels have to travel to the site and instruct the vessels to leave (though they can’t be sure the uninvited visitors will do so in an expeditious manner). Every time, the diggers harm the maritime wildlife and the seabed. And because they often harm the undersea cables in the process, they harm the Matsu Islands’ ability to function and to communicate with Taiwan proper and the wider world.

Given that the undersea cables’ locations are known, this frequent and now jacked-up harm to the Matsu Islands doesn’t look like accidental damage—it looks like harassment of Taiwan. After the most recent incident, the DPP accused China of deliberately damaging the cables given how often they’re broken. The incidents could even be an exercise in preparation for a communications cutoff of Taiwan proper. Fifteen undersea cables connect the main island with global telecommunications.

CHT plans to, at least partly, ensure the Matsu Islands’ connectivity by laying another cable, and this time it will be buried underneath the seabed. The cable will, however, only be in place in 2025. In the meantime, CHT has to pay for the backup internet system, and it’s also waiving island residents’ internet fees. When the repair ship arrives, fixing the two cables will cost CHT between $660,000 and $1.3 million.

Causing such costs is also part of gray-zone aggression. If a company suffers losses as a result of geopolitical aggression, its insurer may not cover it: Russia’s devastating NotPetya cyberattack resulted in massive lawsuits between multinationals and their insurers. While CHT’s conversations with its underwriter are naturally confidential, the two will have to agree on whether the severing of the cables was accidental damage or an act of harm initiated by another government to weaken Taiwan. Either way, CHT or its insurer has to pay for repeated damage that goes far beyond what’s typical for undersea cables. What happens if CHT backs out of providing connectivity to the Matsu Islands on the grounds that constant cable repairs are making it too difficult and expensive? As I’ve outlined in other pieces and this report, geopolitical confrontation risks making parts of global business uninsurable.

And there’s another problem facing CHT, Taiwan, and indeed every country: the shortage of cable ships. The reason CHT has to wait until the end of April, or later, for repairs to begin is that there are only 60 cable vessels around. (Take a look at them here.) It’s a good thing that these scruffy-looking ships exist; indeed, without them the internet would not operate. But not only are the cable ships few in number—they’re also getting on in years. As Dan Swinhoe reports for DCD Magazine, no new cable ships were delivered between 2004 and 2010, and only five ships were delivered between 2011 and 2020. “Only eight of those 60 ships are younger than 18, with most between 20 and 30 years old. 19 are over 30 years old, and one is over 50,” Swinhoe notes. Like the world’s undersea cables, the cable ships are privately owned—and the market, as of yet, seems to have no interest in improving things. This might be a chance for governments—especially the world’s predominant naval powers, such as the United States—to step in. Alternatively, cable operators, which include not just telecommunications firms but tech giants like Google, too, might want to buy their own cable ships.

In the future, more submarine cables will be placed underneath the seabed to make them less exposed to damage—but that, too, depends on the 60 cable ships being available. If Chinese fishing and cargo vessels want to accidentally damage or sever the 15 undersea cables connecting Taiwan to the rest of the world, the near future thus offers enticing prospects. Indeed, given the world’s dependence on the cables and the few ships that can service them, the near future offers tempting prospects for any country ready to create a few more “accidents” at sea.

Cable sabotage could become our era’s blockade—and unlike past generations’ blockades, it can be conducted on the sly. No wonder other telecom operators are studying CHT’s backup operations, because they, too, could be forced to deploy such measures, in Taiwan and beyond. And let’s hope many countries study Taiwan’s response. Responding to a devastating but invisible blockade could become one of the thorniest diplomatic challenges facing Western governments.

[katwriteswitcherthings]

Title: Vi Moxt Miirik (Chapter Ten - Also on AO3)

Prompt: Wuv: Wedding Shenanigans

Pairing: Geralt & Jaskier

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Much of the dialogue in this chapter is based heavily on the short story 'A Little Sacrifice'.

Summary:

Our favorite lovable Bard is a little more than he let's Geralt know. Follow them through the years as he learns to let down his walls and show Geralt how beautiful he really is.

Chapter Ten

When the Witcher and Bard met again, neither of them said a word about Rinde. Jaskier fell into step next to Roach just as easily as he had the first time, not even bothering to ask if he could come along.

They met on the road near Dorian in the middle of summer. Geralt had a fairly decent season up until that point, and Jaskier had obviously done much better sporting four expensive-looking doublets, a new fur-lined cloak, and two pairs of good walking boots. 

They traveled east along the Adalatte and straight through Kerack. They ended up at a party in a tavern called the Four Maples, and for once Geralt was just as much at fault for the resulting mess as Jaskier. 

Jaskier had a slightly nasty side, that was usually only coaxed out from under his performer's joy by bigots and racists. At the Four Maples there was a group of local hunters known as the Rangers. The Rangers had a reputation for 'hunting' elves and other non-humans, usually in the most gory and violent ways possible. They did not take kindly to a witcher.

Geralt had been used to the treatment, ducking his head low in his back little booth, and if the owner had asked him to leave, he would have without objection. Witchers can't retaliate against humans, not without consequences.

Jaskier, however, had worked for years to change people like these Rangers' opinions, and did not bother hiding his anger from them.

One thing led to another, and the whole tavern might have ended up burning down. Luckily for the witcher and his bard, Jaskier was good friends with the local judge. The judge ruled that the Rangers, Geralt, and Jaskier split the repair costs and subsequent court fees evenly, which left them broke but no longer in jail.

Then the Rangers got released from jail right behind them, and the unlucky pair had to spend the next week riding through the forests trying desperately to outrun the hunters. They couldn't go east, the Rangers were blocking all those roads. They couldn't go north, Calanthe would have them thrown in Cintra's dungeons if they came anywhere near the kingdom.

They were broke, tired, hungry and in the middle of nowhere along the coast. They came across no villages big enough for a tavern for Jaskier to play at, and none had any monster problems for Geralt to earn from either. Jaskier ended up selling off several pieces of his good jewelry for food, and Geralt finally sold off some good-quality knives he'd relieved from bandits. Their small provisions had run out the day before, and even Geralt's considerable hunting skills could not make game appear where none lived.

They finally got a break as they were walking up the road toward Bremervoord.

"Oi! Master!" A voice called out suddenly from a small cart parked off the road, and both Geralt and Jaskier looked up at the call, bewildered. "Oh! It is you, Master Bard!" At a look from the bard, Geralt dismounted Roach gracefully and led her a little closer to the cart, where a heavyset man was climbing down.

"Indeed, good sir, I am the Master Bard Jaskier." Jaskier said with a small bow and a smile as the man approached them. "This is my companion, the witcher Geralt of Rivia. It seems you have the better of me, though." He introduced Geralt flawlessly, and the man nervously nodded his head in the Witcher's direction before shifting all his attention back to the bard.

"Ah, yes. I am Teleri Drouhard, spice merchant and leader of the local guild." He gave a little bow back before glancing between the pair. "I had heard rumors you were in the area, and I am very glad indeed I caught you before you passed through." Geralt barely contained a grimace at that reminder of their situation.

"What may I do for, Sir Drouhard, that you have sought me out?"

"Well, you see, my son is to be wed this night. My wife heard you perform last winter at the de Stael Midinváerne banquet and became a fan. When some of the guests told her they spotted you along the road, she demanded I come out to find and hire you. We already have a bard, of course, but she will not be satisfied unless you perform as well, I'm afraid."

"I may be a great bard, but even performers have standards, my good sir." Jaskier said after a moment's consideration. "You have hired another troubadour already and I will not take the money you already promised them." Jaskier turned away from the man to rifle through Roach's saddlebags. Geralt would have objected if he hadn't seen Jaskier use this tactic before. 

"Jaskier." Geralt grumbled softly, but the bard just winked at him, out of sight of the merchant. Of course, just because he'd seen it before didn't mean that Geralt would tolerate it. "Beggars can't be choosers. We need that money." Jaskier turned to face the witcher with a scoff.

"Beggars can't- Why you…!" Jaskier trailed off, affronted and making disagreeable noises. "That's the pot calling the kettle black! What about you, mighty Witcher? You who turned down contracts for hirrikkas because they are endangered? Let the mecopterans alone because their bones don't cure impotence? Who doesn't hunt dragons because your Witcher code prevents it? I, too, have a code!"

"Come on, Jaskier." Geralt said with a little eye roll. He was too used to his bard's antics by now, and all too easily played along. "For me? I'll take whatever contract I'm offered next."

"Please, Master Jaskier, my wife will be inconsolable if you do not play tonight." The merchant stepped in to beg. "The other bard will still get her pay, I swear. I'll offer you the same, and a room for you and your companion for the night." Jaskier hummed and let his fingers tap a beat on the saddlebags, letting the man sweat for a moment.

"Alright, my good sir. You drive a hard bargain but I will accept your offer for my services." The man visibly relaxed at hearing those words, and Geralt just rolled his eyes at his bard. Not like Jaskier would have refused either way; they needed the coin too badly and an actual room to stay in would be a great luxury.

"Please, follow me to my house. You both may use it to make ready, and both of you are welcome to the feast tonight."

"And who am I to be performing beside tonight, if I may be so bold?" Jaskier asked as the man clambered back up into his cart.

"Ah, a feisty young lass by the name Essi Daven."

Jaskier couldn't believe their luck! Essi Daven, his dearest sister, was in a small backwater like Bremervoord.

Drouhard was a cheerful enough fellow, even if he did continually get Geralt's name wrong, and didn't even blink twice about putting a Witcher up for the next several nights. It was nice after that... disagreement with the Rangers to see that his songs had reached all the way to the Coast. 

Jaskier got to spend the morning getting him and Geralt both presentable; Geralt got to soak in a tub that he could actually fit all the way down in for hours. Jaskier loved when he got to pamper his Witcher. He shaved them both and washed Geralt's hair until it was pure moonlight in his hands, pulling it up into a neat tail that accented his face quite well.

Geralt only had one moderately fancy outfit to wear, and it was one that Jaskier had tailor made several years ago for him. Jaskier loved it when Geralt got a chance to wear it, though it was too informal for the banquet in Cintra. More's the pity; he hated the doublet he'd wrangled up at the last minute for that.

No, this was a simple vest, embroidered with buttercups, and dyed black by Geralt a year after he'd gotten it. He wore it over a soft gray undershirt, and it went well with his leather pants and study boots. He smiled as he finished fussing with the vest and Geralt cast a glance at himself in the mirror. Geralt never said a word about him very publicly claiming the Witcher and Jaskier was damn sure not going to bring it up.

The wedding feast was in a warehouse, and Jaskier was unfortunately separated from his Witcher by Drouhard, who insisted Jaskier be introduced to the whole crowd, and rather poorly at that. At least he waited until Essi was done singing, he had to give the merchant that. With an elegant bow to the audience, Drouhard called for the banquet to begin.

Jaskier tried to catch Essi as she was leaving the stage, but a surge of pretty maidens got between them. Jaskier watched as she tossed a glance back at him, mischief sparkling in the one eye not hidden by her hair. Oh, cock. This wasn't going to end well for him, would it?

She was already making a beeline for Geralt, and blessed Melitele how did she find him so fast? That... that needed his attention. Immediately.

"Ladies, ladies, I must beg your pardons." He cried out, desperate. "I must confer with my fellow bard on our music for this lovely wedding banquet!"

He managed to give them the slip, bringing his lute around into his hands to protect it a measure more. He arrived just in time to see Geralt standing awkwardly next to Essi, who was watching him in fascination.

"Oh good, you found him." He called out, catching both their attention. "Geralt, be nice to Essi." He said seriously, waggling a finger in the Witcher's face. "She's like a sister to me."

"He's been a perfect gentleman so far." Essi cut in with a smile. "He even kissed my hand like a proper court lady."

"Oh?" Jaskier asked, an eyebrow raising in surprise as he looked over at his Witcher, who was steadfastly looking away. "I think some of my courtly graces must be rubbing off."

"Courtly graces or brothel etiquette?" Essi asked lightly, Jaskier resisting the temptation to stick out his tongue at her. Geralt let out a small chuff of laughter that would have barely been more than a breath to someone else, but Jaskier caught it immediately.

"Dearest Sister, I believe you are a miracle worker. You made my witcher laugh."

"That was a laugh? Seemed more like a dying man's breath, if you ask me."

"Geralt is a very reserved man." Jaskier said with a smile, enjoying the grumbling of his Witcher. "Now, we should get down to our serious business."

"Oh? And what serious business do we have, Jaskier?" Essi asked, lightly pulling the one stubborn lock of hair back out from over her eye.

"Who will play first, of course, and what ballads should we play?"

"I've already had a go, why don't you start?" 

"Agreed." Jaskier said with a smile as he turned to take in the crowd.

"Oh, looks like the crowd's just gotten a bit more stately." Essi exclaimed as a rather pompous-looking young man entered. Jaskier watched as several rows of people bowed deeply to the man, who gave a small nod, then stepped out of the way toward the other side of the warehouse. "Though he's a bit flighty on his debts. Likes to hire people, but hates to pay for good honest work."

"Some kind of local noble?" Geralt muttered and Jaskier shrugged back.

"You haven't heard yet?" Essi exclaimed in surprise as the three watched Drouhard hurry over to the noble, each man talking swiftly to the other.

"We hadn't even made it into town proper before Drouhard accosted us, Essi." Jaskier explained, and Essi just grinned mischievously.

"That's the Most Noble Duke of Agloval. There's been talk all over the harbor that he apparently has a mermaid problem."

"Mermaids? This close to a town?" Jaskier asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yup." Essi said, emphasizing her word by popping the 'p'.

"Master Jaskier!" A woman's shrill voice interrupted the conversation as the Lady Drouhard approached. It took Jaskier a moment to recognize the Lady Drouhard before he hid his frank unenthusiasm behind his performer's mask.

"My Lady Drouhard, what a pleasant surprise!" Jaskier stepped forward, leading the woman a ways away from their little group. Oh well. He'd just have to corner Geralt and Essi again in a little while and find out exactly what these mermaid problems looked like. It wasn't like mermaids caused a ton of problems for people, other than mean-spirited tricks when they felt like they'd been cheated.

#what about the bard #wuv the bard #jaskier #essi daven #geralt of rivia #geraskier #a little sacrifice #non human!jaskier #non human!Essi Daven #my fanfic

[aether-wasteland-s]

15 questions: character edition

Thanks to @k--havok for the tag! You already know I'm gonna do this for Copper, I'm obsessed with him at the moment

I'm not sure who to tag for this (cos I think I've seen it in my dash once or twice???) so I'm gonna leave it completely open, and anyone is absolutely welcome to it!

--

Are you named after anyone?

Not as far as I'm aware, no... Ma just fancied having a kid called Jimmy, I suppose

When was the last time you cried?

God... I could tell you what happened the last time I cried, but I don't think I could tell you when that was. Time does its own thing, and we just live by those rules. I do know it was before the war, though, so at least three years ago, if not four.

Do you have kids?

With the way things have been going these last few years? I'd be lucky if I ever settled down, let alone became a father.

No, I don't have kids. Don't really fancy the idea, either.

Do you use sarcasm?

Guilty as charged. I'm a pretty sarcastic bloke, and that's only an advantage sometimes. It gets me outta the wrong crowds, but that doesn't always guarantee that I won't end up in worse ones-

What's the first thing you notice about people?

How they choose to present themself. That's always a big one, cos you can often tell if they're lying or trying to pass themselves off as something they aren't. There's a lot that someone gives away in presentation, even if they don't mean to...

What's your eye color?

Brown. Pretty dull one, they wouldn't exactly stand out any in a crowd.

Scary stories or happy endings?

Depends on the story. Scary stories are really good at showing a different shade of reality that could happen, but seems all the same unrealistic. They're grounding, it's a better form of escapism for me than that which has a happy ending. But, at the same time, happy endings are great when you need a moment to wonder what would happen if things were a little better. I'm about convinced that most of real life doesn't have a lot of happy endings, but it's nice to think about.

Any special talents?

Special? Not so much, but talents... Maybe. Some people say I've got one hell of a memory. I mean, if that classes as a talent then I'll go for that. If not, then I've got a certain talent for mechanics, but I wouldn't call that a talent, that's my day job

Where were you born?

Westbury. Way down near the southern coast of Andrano, nowhere near anywhere important. Can't complain, though, if you look past the staggering class divide, it's not a half bad place

What are your hobbies?

I have a particular little love for sketching. Landscapes, particularly... I love watching the harbour and taking a pencil with me. Yeah, the front of my notepad is all business but the back is full of small parts of home

Have you any pets?

I can't tell you how badly I want a cat, but I'm on a busy schedule, and that doesn't leave me with a lot of time to look after a cat... One day, perhaps, I'll get my wish, but for now, no pets on this front

What sports do you/have you played?

Sports? I'm not particularly the sports type, but I'm a bit of a runner, and that's a sport to most-

It's in the Olympics right?

Right...

In which case then, running is what I will go with!

How tall are you?

5'10". Neither of my parents were exactly tall, so I'm lucky really. Though I heard that my father's father was well over 6', so it was evidently from him I managed to maintain a sort of height.

Dream job?

Favorite subject in school?

I enjoyed the arts, though that isn't a thing I would admit to most. I will tend to tell people that I was a physics lad, and that's partly true, but the truth is that it wasn't my favourite

That's something I never really thought about, funnily enough. As far as I'm aware, I'm living the dream right now, doing something I enjoy doing and something that I'm good at. I suppose there would be options if I thought about it, like working in an apothecary... That would be fairly interesting. Or an archivist... Imagine what could be found in an archive... I'm fascinated just thinking about it!

#passing the mic → tag games #oc: copper #my ocs #wip: brass & barricades #getting into his head is always a fun one #hes truly such a bloke #and i love exploring how he thinks in b&b too #get this man a cat fr #he would genuinely befriend it so fast

[handern]

Hi Devy! I just started a D&D game where I'm playing a ship captain in a fantasy age of exploration. I wanted some advice if you have it.

Sentient magical storms made deep-water navigation risky & expensive until about 50 years ago. Technologically, we're lookkng at a time range between the 1400s and the late 1700s. My character is a solo merchant taking up local contracts in a region similar to the mediterranean/Indian ocean. He's not part of a fleet, and is just a little bit shady.

Do you have any recommendations for the type of ship he should have? I'm thinking about something like a caravel right now, but I don't know a lot about sailing!

oooh hell yeah I hope you have fun in that campaign 👀

-> first things first, I just like boats a lot, I don't know all types of boats, but I have visited quite a few and even sailed w some of them, but I'm also a very petty person, so this is just my own very biased opinion, I'm more knowledgeable on how boats work than on the history of how they were used/when/why/by whom

I just think they're neat.

-> choice of boat depends on the length of the trips, the type of cargo and the wealth of the merchant, but I'd say caravel is a p good pick

you do need quite some money and time to get a ship built, then most owners would push their boats way too much, with minimal repairs and almost no regards for the crew

the owner big ships rarely sailed on them (still don't lmao), if they're wealthy enough to own a ship, they are usually wealthy enough to pay a crew, a captain who owns his boat isn't rare, but it's not the norm

-> speaking of crew, it takes a lot more people than people think to man an old timey ship, there's a whole lot more jobs to do than people know of and a whole lot more tasks than just drinking whiskey and napping ; wind changes fast, so you're always changing the sails first of all

-> caravels are good ships but they are so SMALL they stress me out they're the french bulldog of ships to me, even the captain's cabin is insanely small they have like two sails and half and 2m square of living space, nowhere to store that much food what do you MEAN they went across the oceans on these what the fuck

they're very good on the open sea and great near the coast too, usually boats are best either for the open sea (less maneuverable but sturdier and more stable) or for the coast (need to dodge rocks, so smaller without need for deep waters), but caravels are good at both

so I'd say it's a good pick but they stress me out, me, personally

I like their sails though, they have very cute sails even if there's not enough of them

-> another thing about sails

you do NOT cut off a rope and climb on it. you do not do that.

first of all rope is expensive

second of all every single rope that's tied to something has a use, and cutting off a rope is how you get an entire sail to fall on someone or worse.

third of all, rope is sturdy, you don't cut a rope w just one swing of your saber, that's not how it works (side eyeing pirate movies)

-> oh and one last thing, weather and dominant winds change a lot depending on where you sail exactly

the Mediterranean Sea is a lot calmer than the Indian Ocean, but it still is dangerous of course

-> surprisingly, the closer you are to shores, the more dangerous things get, if your ship is well built it can go through the ocean alright, but closer to the shores there are rocks and currents and the winds might not be helping you out at all, while on the open ocean you kind of just can go wherever

-> navigation near the coast really isn't the same at all as navigation in the open sea, it requires different tools and knoweldge so if you can see the coast you can't get lost, but in the middle of the ocean you have to be good at math and physics

-> one last thign for real now, boats are slow. you can't have a car race with a boat. they're slow. they're not meant to be fast they're meant to be holding cargo and be safe on the sea.

if they're fast they're made of carbon with no cargo inside

but this is DnD so go nuts and make all the dramatic boat races you want, hell, you can even put an engine on it or say it was made in a special metal alloy that's lighter than wood and more resistant and has enchanted anodes so it never rusts

#BOAT ANON I AM SO #SO SORRY #I GOT SO EXCITED AND THEN I FORGOT TO PRESS SEND BUTTON #AND THEN I FORGOR I DID NOT PRESS THE SEND BUTTON #CRYING IN THE CLUB RN #unrelated but I've been designing modern boats in fantasy settings in my head for years now #one day I will actually draw them #one day #babbles blabbles

[definitellie]

tonight I have learned that listening to primarily water-based soundscapes gives me anxiety, especially through my earbuds

#like it literally makes my skin uncomfortable #'twas not a pleasant experience #like if it's rain or a stream in a forest kr something similar it's fine #but if it's an ocean or splashing water as the main sound (like an oceanscape or a roaring waterfall) it's baaaaad #i was not expecting that lol #probably stems from the recurring nightmares i had as a kid about being stranded in the middle of the ocean #even though i live nowhere near either coast #tw anxiety #originals

[phantomenby]

Shitlings chapter three

You don't have to Michael....its blood

We need a plan

The wind was smacking your face as you raced across the beach, Michael just about missing a couple sucking each other's faces off as he tried to keep up with David. Marko and Paul were making quick work of bringing down his confidence as they swung towards him from both sides.

Bug

You could hardly concentrate, never enjoying when things got this fast. The erratic movements of the bike were preventing you from thinking clearly as you tried to focus on something else, something calmer. The sand being flung up from the beach was burning your eyes so you forced them shut, Michael could focus on the road and you would shy away into your mind.

Bug

Why did he do this, you could understand if it was just a boring pack of mortals who wanted to have a fun time but this was different, they posed a genuine danger to you both, but of course, Mike chose to think with anything other than his head. You had warned him. Mom would find out soon, and boy was he in for it,

BUG

Reopening your eyes you looked at your brother, realising he had been screaming at you in your head. You were nearing the end of the beach now and heading up towards a long road heading off into the more deserted parts of Santa Carla.

What

Wha- Bug that's all you got? C'mon dude help me out

HELP? Mike this was your decision remember.

Yeah but I don't remember making it, it felt, I dunno weird. Something about her...

You looked ahead at the bike which held Star, she was laughing with the rest of them, raising her hands in the air and letting go of David as though she was invincible. Her thick dark hair flowed behind her and her smile beamed at you as she glanced behind to meet Michael's eyes.

Remember when I said they weren't human.

Yes

Did it maybe occur to you that a non-human thing would have nonhuman abilities and maybeee just maybe, THEY CAN INFLUENCE YOU?!

He winced as you screamed into his head, looking around in concern as he honed in on the energy surrounding the two of you. It was much less dark now, the intent had changed, but it was still some form of evil. A kind that cannot come from even the worst mortals.

I thought-

Thought what huh? That she would be different, that your precious starlight would be batting her eyes at you because you are just oh so cute with your stupid fucking face Michael?

He swerved around a barrel extra hard, almost knocking you off.

Shut up worm. Your the one with four dirty bikers stalking you.

At least I'm not getting onto my knees for their attention.

You were getting nowhere with this, and the boys were noticing your silence. They had changed formation at some point and Dwayne was now behind you, keeping you tucked in, without a chance to escape.

Shut up I can still like people, it's not like we're human either

Yeah but at least we don't smell like death, we need a plan, did Star say anything about where they live? Last I checked Mr Laus takeaway wasn't in the middle of nowhere.

Do you think they'll kill us?

Maybe, Star and David might tag team you first.

He choked gaining Marko's attention as he pulled up beside you, he was laughing but something akin to concern was lurking in his eyes as he saw Michael's control on the bike falter, they were nearing the treeline which would send them into much worse terrain.

"You good Mikey? Don't want you getting hurt before the fun even begins," he bumped against you both playfully, egging Michael on.

Let me focus on driving, you come up with a plan, got it?

You nodded, got it.

Tightening your grip around his waist you focused harder, the boys were probably leading you to their nest at the other end of the coast. It would be easiest to disappear into the forest where you could distract them with an apparition, your bodies were easy enough to mimic with magic.

Remember when we stole from Mr Sweeny's back in Phoenix?

He thought hard for a moment before grinning, nodding a little.

We can do that and head off to the side, by the time they notice we could be long gone.

Or we could do something worse

The grin on his face would scare the devil himself.

Oh? What do you propose?

Fuck with them but still go with them, they're chasing us to the cliffs so what if we y'know just didn't brake in time. Play with them before following down into their nest, we both want to know more about their intentions.

That was true, if they knew where they 'lived' then we would have the upper hand. Vampires were known to be their most vulnerable during the daytime and with no hellhounds to protect them they would be sitting ducks in the face of a threat.

Hm. Off the cliff? Pushing the image of the both of you tumbling to your doom, knowing it would cause some kind of reaction.

Michael nodded, smirking. Off the cliff.

Fog was beginning to build up around you as you breeched the treeline, you'd hardly noticed passing through the forests as you focused the apparition in your mind. Happy to see that no one was behind you. This would be easy.

The other three had started moving off to the sides as you came up beside David, he was egging Michael on, trying to get a rise out of him as they neared the edge of the cliff. Looking over at them David met your eyes, laughing at the scared look you gave him when you realised where you were being led to. You always were good at being dramatic. Using it to your advantage you shouted at Mike, warning him to slow down.

"Michael the cliff! We're gonna fall," he ignored you and continue, even Star was looking a little concerned. You were almost there, just a little further.

"Michael sto-" you lurched forward with a scream, diving over the edge and downwards to your death, the strong waves of the ocean slamming into the side, reaching up to greet you.

The boys had stopped, their bikes slamming to the ground as they ran to where you had fallen off, Stars pained scream ringing in their ears as they tried to see through the fog.

"F-fuck David!" Paul looked at his leader, eyes darkening as he fought to keep under control, feeling his bones protrude and eyes glow. The others were no better, all in some state of disarray as they sought to see how far down you had gone, even as the fog cleared they couldn't see anything left of you.

David was stunned, his form unmoving as Star climbed off the bike to grab Laddie who was shivering beside Dwayne's bike, her own mind was in a frenzy but her instincts to keep him safe when the boys began to change were kicking in.

"We weren't supposed to kill them! Shit, I can't even see the bike in the water they wouldn't have survived that, not even we'd come out good from that."

Marko's words finally brought David out of his frozen state as he began to figure out what he could do, this wasn't part of the plan, I mean surely Michael would have some sense of self-preservation and would have stopped. He should have stopped. He looked out into the water coat billowing behind him as they stood waiting for him to speak.

"They weren't supposed to die, this wasn't part of the plan - I mean, Max - how are we supposed to tell him they're dead, we can fly down see if there's still some life in them. They can't be dead."

"Who's dead?"

They all froze, eyes still staring towards the sea. Surely they had all gone insane. I mean, they watched you fall, nothing could have tricked their eyes in such a way.

As they turned their eyes widened, unbelieving.

There you were, both unmarred and stood by Michael's cherry-red bike, watching them all with your arms crossed.

"David? Who died?" Repeating your words did nothing as you arched a brow, expecting an answer he couldn't give.

"Y-yo-you"

"Did someone fall?" You began to look around, searching to see if one of the group had vanished, everyone was accounted for.

David didn't know what to say, he had watched you fall, heard your scream. Yet there you both were, waiting for an explanation as to why they were stood staring out into the sea.

-

After they had composed themselves you had been led down the side of the Bluff, across an old bridge made out of wood and wire that looked on the verge of falling apart. Dwayne had stood behind you reassuringly the entire way down, his hand brushing against your back to keep you moving, fingers shaking slightly as he kept his gaze on you.

It was quiet, something unlike them, but they were still trying to figure out what they had seen earlier. They would talk later about it when you were either gone or asleep in their nest depending on how the night panned out.

Paul reached up to you as they lead you through the mouth of the cave and down a steep hill, offering his hand as he lifted you into a jump, steadying you as you landed beside him. In front of you was a fountain? Confused you let your eyes continue in exploring the large space, nothing like what you expected, surely they couldn't have dragged these furnishings all the way down here.

It looked almost like a hotel, paintings and deep red curtains lining the walls, a wide desk over the other side from where you had entered, behind it was a wall full of small cubby holes. There were a few columns also, beautifully sculpted with flowers wrapped around them, now covered in graffiti and weird art the boys had added over the years.

David took the chance to wrap his arm around your waist, curling his hand around it in a firm grip as he brought you to walk along with him, going on a whole spiel about some old hotel from the beginning of the century had fallen into the caves after a particularly nasty earthquake. I guess that explained the weird decor. He spoke of it as though he had been there like he had watched as it fell apart. You wondered how old he and his brothers were.

He finished his speech as you reached where Michael was standing, looking at Star as she stood wrapped in a shawl beside one of the pillars. She watched him with unspoken emotion, hands clenching and unclenching around the garment she cloaked herself with.

"So check it out," Paul was up on the fountain, rolling a joint and laughing at you both, clearly the least affected by the night's events so far.

David had left you to pull your brother to a round sofa that was worn down with age and much stiffer than it looked, leaving you standing as you watched on, glancing around you as you tried to memorize every nook and cranny of the cavern. It was definitely much grander than you expected, considering how bad the boys smelt and how rugged they looked last night.

Marko, Paul, and Dwayne still had their eyes on you, their focus never wavering even as you tried to shrug it off. You'd think they would glue their eyes to you if they weren't stuck in their heads.

Soon you had all begun to relax, sitting on a couch that Paul had led you over to, across from Laddie and Dwayne who were laughing at Michael's misfortune. Marko had been sent out to buy some food, it must have taken at least an hour to make the trip there and back, but by the time he returned it only felt like minutes. Trying to shake the fog from your mind you watched as he approached, handing out cartons of Chinese food, staring into your eyes for a minute too long as he handed you one full of lo mein and a pair of wooden chopsticks.

The look you sent back was a lot colder and he leaned back with a smirk like he was enjoying your reaction to him.

You watched as David offered Michael rice, which he rejected clearly uncomfortable with being surrounded and watched like a hawk, accepting it after David commented on his lack of common sense.

After all, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?

Paul was scooching closer to you with every passing second, legs bumping into you as you tried to move away, trapped by the armrest. Soon enough he had his arm by your side and was trying to pull you closer, if you weren't so focused on David's mind tricks on your brother you would have put more of an effort into deterring him, but for now, you had to keep the upper hand. Vampires were only friendly for so long.

You twitched as his thumb stroked the space between your jeans and top, pushing it up slowly, you shot him a look in warning but it did little to subdue him. The fog was returning to your mind and you wondered if it was his influence. When you returned your gaze to where your brother was sitting you realised Marko had vanished and David now had his eyes on you, Star was keeping Michael distracted with her scared begging eyes.

The way they were leering at you was making you anxious, feeling like a piece of meat being watched b a pack of starving lions. It ended when Marko returned, carrying with him an extravagant bottle covered in gold and jewels, you wondered if they were real or if this was just some dumb initiation they did with everyone. David uncorked it and took a swig, wincing as it hit the back of his throat, when he opened his eyes he looked at Michael with intent. Offering him the bottle like some prized possession.

Maybe people here have a thing for wine, not the weirdest thing I've seen.

Michael looked at you before taking it from David's hands, you knew his mind was set on it, Star stood behind him reassuring him he had a choice. You don't have to Michael.

You frowned not understanding what was so bad about it.

Its blood

Eyes widening you felt your heart freeze in your chest, you couldn't hear her but you could read her lips just as well.

Chanting started up around you, rising in pitch as the bottle moved closer to his lips.

Michael

Michael

Michael

Micha-

Frozen and unable to move, you could only watch as he drank the poison they had presented him with, Paul's hand squeezing your waist before releasing you and jumping up as they all erupted in joyous cheering. For a moment you were forgotten as they celebrated, embracing your brother like he was their own, Michael greedily sucking up the attention.

Star and Laddie had already retreated behind some thin curtains that led to a small sleeping area, watching the gathering warily, catching your eye as she sent you a sad look. You didn't think about it for too long, not that you could if you tried, the room felt heavy and warm. Suffocating. While you yourself hadn't consumed anything besides a bite or two of the Chinese food, you still felt wrong, like something was weighing down on you.

Soon enough David strolled by, still in his chair and being pushed by Marko as he smoked lazily. He reached up to run his fingers along your cheek, gliding under your ear and to the back of your neck where he curled around you possessively, pulling you close.

Come join us kitten

Shuddering you pulled back harshly, falling into a firm chest, as you looked up you met Dwayne's eyes. His arm wrapped around your front as he brought you in, locking you in his strong gaze, god those eyes-

Pull yourself together!

You tried pulling away to no avail, he wasn't releasing you anytime soon, content to have you snug in his arms. Michael was over on the other side of the fountain, head in Star's lap, when she had left her corner of the world you didn't know.

Oh Michael what have you done

The last thing you remembered was Paul coming towards you with a silver chalice full of a warm red liquid, holding your chin steady as he poured it into your mouth.

-

Please can someone turn off the light

Whatever was shining in your face was blinding and making your headache even worse than it was. Hearing a groan beside you, you began to draw open your eyes, wincing when sunlight flashed across your vision. Turning towards the sound you realised it was Michael and he too was suffering from last night's activities.

Oh please no not now

"Oh yes, now my dear idiots!" Sam kicked the door open, grinning broadly as he reached for the phone beside Michael's bed, it was now you realised you hadn't even made it to your own room.

What was in that drink

"What drink?"

Sam, I am begging you. Shut. Up.

"Whatever, moms calling" he lifted the receiver singing a sweet hi mommy down the phone before handing it to Michael, "did you guys do drugs."

You opened one eye to glare at him, swearing that as soon as your head cleared you would make him regret the day he was born, "no- ask your brother he's the one who roped me into his mess. Ow! Hey!"

Mike took the chance to hit you with the phone once Lucy hung up, asking Sam for his sunglasses as he tried to escape the sun shining through his blinds, "I'm your brother to bug."

"Not for long with current your track record."

Sam left you, joking about whether or not you were freebasing, still none the wiser to what had happened. Sighing you tucked yourself under Michael's arm, trying to fall back asleep in hopes you would wake feeling refreshed.

"Bug?"

"Mmh"

"I feel wrong, do you feel it too?"

You nodded, trying hard to think about what that awful drink was, the one Star tried warning Michael about. What was it she sa-

Oh shit

"What-"

Shit shit shit

Memories flashed through your mind, boyish laughter, a silver chalice, you couldn't move as something was poured down your throat. You remembered the burning sensation it left behind, it wasn't the same as what they fed Michael, it was fresh and must have come from one of them. Or all of them.

Pushing the thoughts into Mike's mind you let him reach his own conclusion, praying he had a few brain cells left to figure it out himself. Something clicked inside that hollow shell he called a head as his eyes snapped open, sitting up too fast, realising his mistake as he held onto his head.

Someone was holding you, spinning you and bringing them close.

Wincing as the memories pushed through your haze, rubbing your eyes furiously.

Moving but your feet staying still, draped across someone's knees as another pushed you round a fountain.

Why were you-

You were on someone's lap, falling into slumber as they nuzzled your shoulder, breathing you in, pressing soft kisses above your artery.

The fuck-

Dark golden eyes watching you fade away.

You were well and truly screwed.

#david tlb #the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys fic #marko the lost boys #the lost boys imagines #lost boys x oc #dwayne tlb #the lost boys x reader #poly lost boys x reader #marko tlb

[samstree]

Mer!Jaskier, inspired by this art made by the amazing @handwrittenhello​. Check it out, it’s so angsty and beautiful!!  ❤️

Geraskier, whump, cw: injury and blood

---

Jaskier is not showing up.

Geralt came to the coast three weeks ago on the day they were supposed to meet – the day before spring equinox. Every year he travels to the coast of Cidaris to pick up the merman, and every year Jaskier emerges from the sea with a flap of his tail and a bright smile on his face, the florescent blue scales gracefully transforming into human legs. And every year Jaskier jumps into the arms of his land-bound witcher and takes his breath away with a bruising kiss.

Three weeks have passed since equinox. No Jaskier.

With a curse, Geralt steps closer to the water and searches urgently. The sand sinks under his boots, soft and wet. Still, the merman is nowhere to be seen under the lapping waves of the ocean. Weeks of worry almost makes the witcher dive under, even though that won’t bring him any closer to his lover. The merfolk live too far away from shore, too deep under the surface to reach.

Last fall, right before Jaskier returned home for winter, the merman had expressed concern about the safety of his people. They were lying on a soft bed at an inn near the coast, with Jaskier’s head pillowed on Geralt’s chest and nuzzling gently. Half asleep with the pleasant weight of his mer lover, the witcher hears a whisper filled with worry.

“They say the sirens are gonna attack.”

He had jerked awake at the sentence, knowing the long history of conflict between those two peoples. Jaskier clings to Geralt’s neck more tightly, his scent soured by anxiety. Immediately the witcher tries to console him with soft touches, but deep down he felt so helpless that night, unable to protect Jaskier if war breaks out underwater, unable to stop his departure either.

Now, Geralt paces along the coastline as a storm gathers. Under the gloomy sky, in the distance, suddenly something sparkles at the surface. His breath hitches with hope, scared that it’s just a trick of the light.

After the longest second in Geralt’s life, the most beautiful blue emerges not far from where he’s standing. Jaskier plops down onto the beach with a wet splash and struggles to crawl out of the water, but his arms give out. As soon as his gaze meets the witcher’s from the distance, relief overcomes the merman’s face and he falls into the shallow like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Jaskier…” the witcher hears himself call out his lover’s name.

The next thing Geralt knows, his feet have carried him to Jaskier’s prone form. Kneeling in the sand, the witcher gathers his lover’s listless body in his arms, his clothes soaked through.

Jaskier’s eyes are squeezed shut, his murmuring half-delirious and pained, and it’s obvious why. The fins on his right side—fins that are supposed to be a beautiful scarlet color and perfectly shaped—are ripped out by force, leaving three deep gashes that still drip blood.

Curling into himself, Jaskier’s tail jerks uncontrollably with each throb of pain shooting through his body. He’s a block of ice in this form, keeping to the same temperature as the sea, but Geralt pays no mind. Another tide crushes into both of them and Jaskier whimpers at the force of it.

“Shh, it’s all right. You are safe now.” With an arm under the tail, Geralt picks up the merman carefully as to not jostle his wounds, and puts him down on a dry patch of soft sand where the waves cannot reach. “I’m here, Jask. You are safe.”

Gently shifting the merman onto his lap, Geralt inspects the injuries more closely. He’ll have to take Jaskier to a healer as soon as possible, but the merman is not transforming into human form like he should be once he reaches air. He’ll die of thirst first.

“Jaskier. I need you to wake up.” Geralt murmurs into the merman’s ear, his fingers threading through those wet locks. “My heart, can you hear me? Please, I need you to change.”

Jaskier burrows into the witcher’s neck, a sob escaping his throat that almost sounds like Geralt’s name.

“Do it for me, please,” he keeps begging. “Change for me…”

The merman’s lips quiver at the last plea, his eyes fluttering open. It’s such a familiar request, such a powerful one too. Geralt said the same words so many years ago, when the idea of traveling with the merman took over his heart. He was too selfish to let Jaskier go then, and he’s too selfish now.

Change for me, he’d blurted out at the time. Change so we can be together.

The same plea is what pulls Jaskier to the land of the living. His eyes, wide and confused, calm instantly when he realizes that he’s in Geralt’s embrace.

“For…for you, always,” Jaskier mutters, his teeth chattering. Geralt places a hand between the merman’s shoulder blades to ease his labored breathing and runs the other down those scales in a soothing manner. With another sob, the merman concentrates on the transformation and lets chaos flow through his body.

Even without the injuries, it’s an unpleasant process. Tears are running freely down the merman’s cheeks as the florescent scales recedes into smooth skin under Geralt’s palm. He presses a kiss to Jaskier’s temple as the merman chokes out a cry, his legs finally taking form.

“Thank you,” he encourages softly. “You did well. So well, Jask. Now let me take care of you. It’s safe now.”

A tiny, exhausted smile appears at the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “Always,” he breathes before passing out. His head lolls to the side.

The witcher picks up his lover again. Jaskier is naked and vulnerable like this, his warming body shivering in the cold wind. They’ll have to find Roach soon so Geralt can bandage his wounds and bundle him up in clothes. But now, he revels in the fact that Jaskier is alive and safe in his arms.

And he always will be, as long as Geralt lives.

---

Now also on AO3

(Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @writinginsecret5 @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <33)

#almost quoted a little sacrifice there #ah i've had fun with it #thanks again for the amazing art #<333333333 #geraskier #geraskier fic #hurt/comfort #geralt of rivia #jaskier #mer!jaskier #merman!jaskier #mermaid!jaskier #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #soft geraskier #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #established relationship #cw: blood #cw: injury

[catxsnow]

MID-JULY J.T.

Summary: based off the song Mid-July by Craig Wilson. Jason visits a small town just to get away from his life in Gotham, he never expected to meet his summer love. 

Warning: fluff

A/N: This was my secret santa fic for @woahjaybird​ (I went a little overboard) I hope you all enjoy, I most certainly had a lot of fun writing it!

Word count: 7.9k

I’ve been looking for a summer love

A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason Todd was drained to the point that he couldn't get up in the morning without dreading the day. Day in and day out he continued to lose himself in ways that he swore he wouldn’t. He hadn’t felt like himself in months and it seemed that all hope was lost to every get back to his normal self – not that was a good version either.

It was Artemis that told him to take some time off from being the Red Hood. Visit some beach in the middle of nowhere and enjoy himself without the stress of saving the world. Take the time to mourn those he had lost. It took him months to be convinced to take a break. Truth was, he needed it.

Years of beating himself down, burning the match at both ends until there was nothing left. He couldn't keep running on fumes, everyone saw it. Tired eyes, sluggish movements, adrenaline being the only thing that kept him going in tough situations. It was dangerous for everyone - and it was when a civilian died did he finally realize that.

So, after breaking down in front of his friends, Jason agreed to take a break. Just a couple of weeks, just to get himself back to where he once was. He found himself planted on the beach where not a damn soul knew his name. He didn't want to admit that they were right, Jason was tough - he didn't need a mental break. At least, that's what he told himself. 

Even if he was on 'vacation' he couldn't stop thinking about the suit that was hidden in his closet. The presence of it didn't help him destress in the slightest. Every creak of the floorboards, the sound of voices outside his temporary home, everything had him on edge. It was the way that he was raised - letting go didn't come easily to him.

The place that he was staying in was nice. Some Airbnb that was way too cheap for the quality it was. A big bed, small kitchen, huge bathroom that seemed way nicer than the one in his own home. The beach was a walk away and parking was free. He couldn't complain, as badly as he wanted to find some excuse to go back home. 

The first day that Jason was in that small town on the coast, he spent it walking around, casing everything and everyone. A habit that Bruce instilled in him. The people gave him a few looks, but kind smiles nonetheless. Some people waved; others just ignored him. He didn't mind. 

The smell of a bakery enticed him. Fresh bread that reminded him of those cold winter mornings where Alfred would make him loaves upon loaves of bread. Jason watching him at the kitchen counter, working on whatever homework he had to do for school that he was behind in. He couldn't help but go buy a loaf from the sweet old lady. 

On the second and third day, Jason spent mostly in his room. He couldn't be bothered to try and relax when clouds covered the sky and it threatened to rain. Instead, he took the time to unpack the few clothes that he had brought with him. If Artemis was going to make him stay there for at least a few weeks then he may as well make it comfortable.

It was the fourth day that he admitted defeat and strolled out the beach right by his temporary home. White sand, blue seas that went on for miles - it was a gorgeous place - just not his scene. The warmth of the sand felt heavenly against his skin. It had been years since Jason truly felt warm like this - not since before the pit.

It was that day that he realized that maybe this idea wasn't so bad, maybe he really could find comfort in this nameless town where everyone seemed to know everyone. The warmth alone... he forgot what it was like. Jason was always cool to the touch, his fingers like ice against the skin of his friends and family.

His hands dug into the sand, absorbing every ounce of heat that he could get. 

As the sun went down that evening, and the heat of the sand dissipated, Jason packed up his items. The now-familiar smell of that oh-so-fresh bread filled him again. He hesitated - the first loaf had gone by so fast that a second sounded a little too perfect of a way to end his day.

Unlike before, the tiny shop wasn't empty. The older lady that smiled so kindly with him the last time was helping a girl who was no older than he was. Her voice wounded like silk to him and a bright smile that lit up the entire building. She held a box of pastries in her arm and chatted with the owner as if they knew each other forever.

The sound of Jason entering - or more so the bell above the door caught both their attention. The girl faltered for a moment, not recognizing him from their small town. Nonetheless, she gave him a wave before bidding the older lady goodbye. Jason opened the door for the girl, still taking in her beauty.

"I'm gonna guess you're not from around here," she paused in front of him. Jason nodded, confirming her prediction. She looked him up and down once before latching onto the vibrant color of his eyes. Her lips flipped into a smile only for a moment. "Try the apple turnovers, you'll never want to leave here afterward."

Before Jason could speak again, she was gone. For the first time since showing up in that small town, he wore a small smile on his face. A smile that he would have for the rest of his trip there, the one just for her. A smile that he didn't know could bring so much joy in his life in such a short period of time.

"I'll have the apple turnovers, please."

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason enjoyed the beach far more than he imagined he would. The sounds of the waves were louder than the ringing of gunshots in his head. The warmth that he craved lingering on him even in the late hours of the night. He didn't realize how one tiny place could bring him so much peace.

No one stared at the scars that laced him, no one questioned why he was there or where he came from. Everyone minded their own business - something he never got when he was in Gotham. Someone was always up his ass on what he was doing or chastising him for his choices. 

Jason frowned as a shadow covered him, completely blocking the rays of the sun from hitting his body. He already had evidence of tan lines along the hem of his shorts and around his sunglasses. The pale scars against his skin protruded even more. He sat up on his elbows and removed his sunglasses to see who was interrupting him.

To his surprise, it was the same girl that he had met at the bakery. Her hair was pinned back in a braid, showing off her beauty even more. Jason's breath caught in his throat upon seeing her again. Her whole being screamed welcoming - and he didn't get that feeling easily.

"I see you've stuck around a little longer yet," She spoke. Jason bobbed his head, unable to produce any words. There was something about this girl that had him flustered without even trying. Maybe it was the innocence in her eyes - the incorruptible smile she had. Jason didn't want her to step foot near Gotham and taint that heart of hers - and he didn't even know anything about her.

"Was it the baking or the beach?" She continued on, hoping to get a word out of him. He hadn't spoken their last encounter either. Jason had piqued her interest - not many people came to their little town and certainly none as attractive as him. There's was a mystery around him and she was dying to know what.

Jason grew up with the intention of not to trust anyone. Even before he met Bruce, Jason knew that he could only ever rely on himself. After being Robin, he really knew that to be true. Trust didn't come easily to him anymore, but this girl... he wanted to be able to trust her the moment he laid eyes on her. 

"The warmth," Jason finally coughed out. It was the first thing that came to mind. The pit had traumatized him - in all the expected ways of course - but never feeling warm or cold was something he never realized he could miss. The hot sand, the sun beating down on him, he really did make him want to stay.

"It's only June," she cocked an eyebrow. "Mid-July is when it gets really hot." Jason shrugged - how was he supposed to know? Either way, he wouldn't be sticking around long enough to see if she was right. His trip was already nearing its end. The short time did good on him - not that he would want to admit that to Artemis.

"I won't be around that long," Jason's voice cracked. His cough, once again, failed to cover it up; why was he acting this way? Smarten up, you can't even keep yourself composed to a girl? What's wrong with you, man? "Just taking some time off... work."

Work, if that's what you wanted to call dodging bullets and breaking bones. Jason shuddered at the idea of even thinking these thoughts around this girl. The nameless girl that he knew nothing about but felt entitled to trust. The girl that grinned down at him without knowing his story.

"Strange place to come vacation." Though the beaches were nice, not many people knew of her small town. It was the exact reason that Jason choose it. No one to know his name or his face. "Not much to do unless you've lived here your whole life."

"That's the point." His mind was always so busy that having nothing to do, nothing to keep him going... it was a hard adjustment but he already found himself sleeping more hours of the night. Jason hadn't known this girl in the slightest, so how come he felt like it was easier to talk to her than half the justice league?

"Well, if you're looking for something fun, there's mini-golf down the road," she pointed towards the general direction. "Though, you don't really look like the kind of guy that decides to mini-golf."

"Oh?" Jason chuckled. The sound surprised both of them - he never expected to spontaneously laugh at some little comment about his appearance. More so, she didn't expect someone as broad as him to have such a beautiful laugh. It caught her off guard.

This time, she fumbled over her words, "I mean maybe you are. Are you? Do you wanna go? Like right now? We can." Her eyes darted away from him, hands shoved in her pockets to keep them from fidgeting. Truth was, they never got men that looked as gorgeous as him coming by.

It was the 'we', that caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat, that same stupid smile making it's way onto his face again. Jason tipped his sunglasses back down on the bridge of his nose. The towel he was laying on was wrapped around his shoulders as he stood up. She looked taken aback by his height - forgetting from the last time that they met.

He stuck his hand out of her to shake, "If we're going to go play mini-golf together I think we're due for a proper introduction. I'm Jason."

The girl accepted his handshake after a moment of surprise. She wasn't sure if it was from the fact that he agreed to her pathetic attempt to ask him out or that she realized that they didn't even know each other's names. He was so approachable that she had had completely forgotten that they didn't know each other previously.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (L/N)."

It's the middle of July, and my phone's been dry I'm in my feels, it's cloudy outside Small town A bunch of hills around with all the girls in my location Nowadays its hard to find new ones to talk to I need a chick who wants to get away with me Spend the weekends on the beach and get lost in the city

Jason always liked driving through the countryside. When he was young, Bruce or Alfred would offer to take him for a relaxing drive when he was stressed about his school or even his life as Robin. It reminded him of the times he got lost in his own head when he was young, wishing for better places.

To finally get to see these so-called better places in real life was always a little too surreal for him. He spent his childhood thinking about the beauty of the oceans, the rolling of mountains, and the vast forestry that lurked outside the city limits. It always seemed a treat when he would get to go with Bruce.

He hadn't gone much after coming back from the Lazurus Pit. Driving with no purpose now only let him get lost in his thoughts - often scary places within. Jason didn't like to get pulled back to the horrid memories of what happened to him. Driving alone always led to some sort of panic and he couldn't bare it anymore.

Driving with her was different.

In Jason's next week in that small town, he got to know (Y/N). Her life, her story, everything that a complete stranger didn't need to know. He learned about the school that she went to and her life growing up there, and how desperate she was to get away to the big city. He grew to learn her likes and dislikes, the faces she made when she laughed or was upset.

He picked up on the way her nose scrunched when she didn't like something and her nervous finger cracking. The differences in her smile - when she forced one out and when she felt genuine. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Not when they parted ways for the day, not when he was trying to sleep at night, not until they met up again the next morning.

They had spent nearly every breathing moment together during his trip. Their mini-golf spontaneous adventure led to a dinner of greasy burgers and late-night milkshakes. She was surprised that he was so willing to stick around that night, even to the point that he was asking to see her again tomorrow.

So, they met again, just outside the bakery they first met. And the next day. And the day after that. On the morning of the second last day that he was supposed to leave, she showed up with a woven basket and a smile on her face. A picnic. Of all things that Jason thought he would be doing that day, a picnic wasn't one of them.

Driving along the countryside, windows down, Jason was happy. Their picnic basket sat in the backseat of his car, (Y/N)'s summer playlist blaring through the speakers. The wind blew through her hair, exposing every perfection in her face. Jason could barely keep his eyes on the road.

While Jason didn't like driving these empty roads alone anymore, he found joy with her. He didn't get flashbacks of the time he was beaten to death or his past as a kid. He remembered the good times with Bruce and Alfred, he had created of new memories with her. Those were the kinds of drives he could get used to.

"What?"

Jason didn't realize he had been staring at her. He laid on a blanket that she had brought, tall grass all around them. She leaned back on her hands, watching the waves below on the cliff that they were perched upon. (Y/N) looked down at him upon feeling his gaze. His admiration ran deep.

"What?" He repeated her question.

"You're staring," she grinned. In the past few days, (Y/N) had noticed him zone out a lot. Sometimes lost in his own mind, sometimes a deep concentration on her. She knew bits and pieces of the reason he was there, about his family and friends. He was still just as big of a mystery as when they first met.

"Hard not to," Jason flirted. He laid down on his back, arms tucked behind his head and staring up at the cloudy sky. She mocked his actions, laying exactly like him. Their elbows bumped into one another, legs brushing just enough to know that she was still right there. He didn't mean to flirt with her, it just came out of his mouth so naturally that he couldn't stop himself.

(Y/N) got quiet suddenly. Her laugh quickly diminished, the smile on her face turned to a frown. As much as fun as she had getting to know Jason these past few weeks - he was leaving. Leaving to what seemed halfway across the world and too far away to keep in contact. She had made a good friend in him - only to have it torn away.

It was her own doing, she knew that he was there for only a matter of days. Maybe it was the big heart inside her that wanted his vacation to be fun, or the reality of it was maybe she just liked him a little too much to let go after one confrontation.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, concern filling him. They had such a great afternoon - long drives, good food, laughs that filled the vast void that they had found themselves in. He couldn't have asked for anything more perfect - and he assumed that she felt the same.

"Nothing," she tried to brush off. Jason leaned on his side to face her. His head rested in his hand as he gazed at the pout on her lips. (Y/N) turned to face him. He matched her pout - being a little overdramatic about it and successfully getting her to smile. "It's just... you're leaving, and I had such a great time with you these past few weeks. I always dread come home from school, but you've made it fun.

"I know you were only come here for a short trip - and that you were trying to relax and I hijacked that from you - but I just wanted to say thanks for making these past few weeks great. I'm gonna miss you, Jay," (Y/N) confessed. Part of her felt bad for completely overtaking his vacation. He was there to be by himself, and she ruined that.

The truth was - she made it far better than he could ever imagine. For the first time in a long time, Jason wasn't weighed down by the heavy helmet that sat in his closet. Sure - he didn't get to sit on his ass and soak up the sun like his original intentions were - but his time was far better spent.

He was happy during his time there.

Maybe, maybe he was a little too happy. Seeing her frown, the way her voice cracked when she spoke of him leaving, it made broke his heart. He didn't want to see her upset, not because of him. Jason's mind ran with thoughts and before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"What if I stayed?"

"What?"

"What if I stayed? For the summer?" When Jason asked again, he was sure that he wanted to make that commitment. If his friends and family wanted him to take a break, then why not go all out? Why not take this chance for him to be happy, especially when it was handed to him on a silver platter like this.

"You're crazy," She rolled her eyes. Jason's face was set in stone - he was being serious about this. (Y/N) faced him properly, she was already upset about him leaving, having this joking around would only make it worse. "You... you wanna stay? But what about Gotham? Don't you have your work-"

"Gotham can live a while longer without me," Jason assured, cutting her off. "I haven't been this happy in a long time. Why not stay a little longer? Unless you don't want me to-"

"No!" She exclaimed. "No, no - I really, I really like the idea of you sticking around." Jason didn't realize that she could look cuter than she already was. He was wrong. Her flustered-unable-to-properly-function look had been far more adorable than he would have ever imagined.

"Do you now?" He teased, trying to get even more of a reaction out of her. (Y/N) buried her face in her hands to try and hide her embarrassment. Jason gently grabbed her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. Her eyes were still sealed shut, scared to see that he was just kidding about staying.

To her surprise, instead of some absurd excuse as to why he actually needed to go back home, that he couldn't stay with her, she felt the softness of lips on hers. He had been thinking about it all afternoon; how good she would feel against him, what the taste of her lips was like.

As quick as his kiss was, he was gone. Jason already felt like he was overstepping his boundaries, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable from his sudden choice. (Y/N) looked at him with shock across her face, she didn't know that he thought of her that way. Hell, she still didn't.

All she knew, was that the second his lips were gone, she craved them again. Jason was pushed back against the blanket by the force she had. His hands grabbed her hips, holding her steady as she kissed him again. Her lips were needy against his like she had been waiting for this moment since they had first met.

He could feel the heat radiating off of her. The same kind of warmth that he felt for the first time when he was surrounded by sand. The same warmth that reminded him of what his life was like when he was happy. Her warmth, everything about her reminded him of those times.

Jason felt droplets of water against his skin. The coolness of the rain felt like it would sizzle against the warmth of his skin. It didn't seem to bother her - not until the sparse drops turned heavy. The clouds above them had quickly turned dark, and rain poured from the sky. It soaked their clothes, the blanket they laid on.

(Y/N) pulled away from him, droplets falling down her face and onto him. A grin was plastered on her face. "We should go," she giggled. Jason nodded; the rain was making all his clothes stick to him in the worst kinds of way. He grabbed the basket while she bunched the blanket up into her arms. They were thrown into the trunk of his car but before she could run off into the passenger's seat and safe from the rain - Jason pulled her against him.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, not caring about the rain just the everlasting heat that she gave. Her hand latched against the back of his neck, kissing him until her lungs screamed for air. She pushed against his chest, edging him to the driver's side of the car.

"You're something else, Todd."

I've been looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You know you've played this song four times within the last hour, right?"

"Are you dissing my music choices? Because if you are, the door is right there, you're free to leave."

Jason was leaning against the headboard on his bed. A book was in his hands, reading lines that made his heart skip beats because they reminded him of the girl rest against his stomach. (Y/N) looked up at him, peeking below the book he was reading. Her music played in the speaker she had brought for him.

"I'm free to leave? This is my room!" Jason exclaimed. He set the book down beside him to give his proper attention to (Y/N). She intertwined his now free hand, resting them both against her stomach. Her head tilted up, lips pouted, and awaiting a kiss from him. Jason happily complied with her wishes. "May as well be your room with the amount of time you spend here."

"Fine, I'll take my playlist and find someone new that appreciates it," She threatened. Jason tightened his grip on her hand, keeping her on his bed. Of course, he knew that she was only joking, but even the thought of her leaving upset him. "Hmm, that's what I thought. Not so tough after all."

As big and intimidating that Jason looked, (Y/N) quickly learned that he was by far the biggest softie that she had ever met. His love for literature, cooking, and an appreciation towards art and creativity. He was nothing that he looked like on the outside. Every time she learned something about him it was shocking.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason rolled his eyes. His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her completely flush against his chest, his leg was thrown across her and no chance of getting out. He peppered her neck and face with kisses, squeezing her tighter as she let out a laugh at him.  "Didn't picture you to be such a sap," (Y/N) squirmed around in his arms until she was able to face him. Jason swooped down for another kiss before she could continue - which only proved her point even more. She pushed away the hairs from his face, lingering on the white streak that protruded through the black. "Leather jackets, big and burly, deep voice," she tried to mimic his own voice. 

"Let's keep that between us, I have an image to uphold." (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him - whatever image he once had was long gone the moment he met her. "Hey, don't roll your eyes at me." 

"Oh? What if I do it again?" She grinned. Jason narrowed his eyes. Over the time that he had been with her that summer, he quickly learned that she loved to test him. Pressing his buttons to get a reaction, doing the exact opposite that he asked off, she loved seeing him get all pouty and frustrated. "Gimme another kiss and I won't." 

Jason wasn't going to complain about that kind of deal. 

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

"You were right." 

"Geez, I don't hear you say that very often," (Y/N) chided. She laid on her back, the sun beating down on her skin with Jason doing the same beside her. The sound of children laughing and screaming overpowered the waves that beat against the shore. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, the perfect weather to be on the beach. 

Jason hadn't spent much time on the beach after meeting her. In fact, he barely spent any time apart from her. Consumed with each other in less than two months - he could never get enough of her. She quickly became his everything while being on his trip. 

The stress of being The Red Hood dwindled, Artemis' advice might have worked a little too well. Jason was so happy being away from his old life that the thought of having to go back, to leave her, kept him up at night. He didn't want to leave this somehow perfect 'white picket fence' life that he had made for himself in such a short time. 

The reality of his life remaining this way was slim. Something would come up or the truth would come out. He couldn't keep living like this, not forever. For now, he would appreciate the summer fling that truly was changing his life for the better. 

"It's far hotter mid-July," Jason revealed. He thought he felt warmth that first week of being there, now, he could get the residual sun rays to leave his skin even if he wanted to. Whether he felt them directly or radiating off (Y/N)'s body at night, he was always consumed with warmth. 

He'd miss it when he had to leave. 

"Hmm, that's not what I was hoping you'd admit, but I'll take it," she looked over at him. Jason leaned over to peck her lips. (Y/N) knew that was going to be the only confession that she got out of him that afternoon. Jason didn't like to admit that someone else was right - she learned that early on. 

"What were you hoping I'd admit?" Jason raised his eyebrows. There could have been a ton of answers coming out of her mouth. Why he was so secretive, why he tensed every time she went near his closet, why he was always so hesitant to talk about his job or his family. He was a mystery - and he hated that he had to keep it that way. 

They were both better off if he kept it that way. Two months of being together, and one until she had to go back to school, and he had to go back to Gotham. Whatever life-threatening secrets he had; he was going to keep them hidden from her. This trip was about finding an escape - and he had found it in her. 

(Y/N) shrugged before laying back down, sunglasses covering her eyes. Jason shuffled closer towards her; he grabbed her hand so he could intertwine their fingers. The roughness of his skin caught her attention once more. She didn't move until Jason kissed her again, this time properly and more than just a single peck. 

"Maybe it was that I wanted to admit that I love you?" Jason spoke. He had been thinking about it for days. A love that he had never experienced before. This wasn't a love that would last a lifetime - till death do him part. This was an innocent summer love that he wanted to take full advantage of. 

Jason couldn't see the look in her eyes, not with the sunglasses covering half her face. (Y/N) wasn't shocked - not in a cocky way. They had been spending all their time together, she had been just as invested in this summer love as he had. To be honest, she didn't expect him to say it first. 

(Y/N) stayed imperturbable for just a moment too long. Jason became nervous that his announcement had been far too soon - or if their relationship even called for it at all. It wasn't until the ear-to-ear smile that spread on her face that he knew that she felt the same. (Y/N) nearly leaped onto Jason, not caring about the families and couples that were around them. 

Her lips were on his, the smile never failing to leave her face.  Rushed lips, bumping noses, Jason grabbing at her hips like his lifeline. His cheeks were flushed pink when she pulled away from him, chest heaving at the lack of air. 

"I love you too, Jay," she confessed. "Sometimes. You're really a pain in the ass when you wanna be." 

Jason feigned a look of hurt. Without missing a beat, he stood up and hoisted her over her shoulder in one swift movement. (Y/N) squealed as he headed towards the water. She reeled her hand back and slapped it against his ass, hoping that he would drop her from the action. It didn't work - at all. 

As soon as he was deep enough in the frigid cold water, Jason dropped (Y/N). She was soaked from head to toe, teeth chattering from the cold. No matter how hot it was outside, the water was yet to warm up for the day. Jason barely felt the cold against his legs - or his whole body when she dragged him down with her. 

"I take it back!" She yelled. (Y/N) climbed against Jason's back, clinging to him in hopes to get most of her body out of the water. Her arms wrapped around his broad chest, legs squeezing around him. "You bitch." 

"Can't take it back babe, you already said it," Jason teased. He turned his cheek to the side, awaiting a kiss from her. Begrudgingly, she did. "I love you." 

Don't recommend me a phone application I'm to old school for online dating A friend's pressing me to download the app 'Cause there's some woman in my zone that down to get (aye)

Lost touch with all the girls in my city I'll probably never find someone I'm way too picky Back in June I had this fling I wasn't feeling Ever since I cut ties my iPhone's been dry

It seemed as Jason's trip felt more and more permeant, their deadline also became too surreal. It was weeks until (Y/N) would have to leave her hometown once more to go back to school. In return, Jason would have to return back to Gotham as the Red Hood. Time was ticking, but that wasn't going to stop them from making the best of their last few weeks together. 

There was something about the time that they spent together that made him forget about his life in Gotham. He forgot the pain that he had to endure. Forgot about the nightmares that woke him up. Forgot about the scars that were scattered across his body. Jason couldn't be more grateful. 

(Y/N) had helped him immensely, and she didn't even know it. She didn't know the real reason that he came to this town, or why he had chosen to stay for longer. It was because of her lack of knowledge that he was reminded of the good in the world. There was no motivator, no dire need to help a poor soul like him. 

She did it because she wanted to. (Y/N) dedicated her summer to him because she genuinely enjoyed his presence and wanted to get to know him - not because he was the son of Bruce Wayne or because he was The Red Hood. She knew Jason Todd, the real Jason Todd that very few people got to see. 

"Whatcha thinking about, hotshot?" 

Jason stood in his tiny kitchen. It wasn't much, but it sufficed for the time that he was staying there. His home - the house he was staying in - was only meant to be for a couple of weeks. With his time being extended, it proved to be problematic in mundane ways. His issues now were trying to get an open washer and the laundromat instead of dodging bullets. 

Was this what his life would have been like if Bruce never took him in? Unlikely. Jason was just a kid off the streets, he never would have made it there if Bruce hadn't taken him in. He wasn't sure if that kid on the streets would be proud of the person he was today. It didn't matter, there was nothing that could be done to change it. 

Jason was always going to be stuck in the life of the Red Hood. Nothing was going to change that. Nothing could change that. Not a person, not a wound, not even dying stopped him from being in this life. 

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her cheek rested against his tone back, fingers trailing on the curves of his muscles. Jason rested his hand over hers, a smile making its way to his face once more. 

"Well I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, but I guess now it's just breakfast," Jason sarcastically told her. He spun around to grab her hips and lift her onto the last empty counter space. As per usual, one of his shirts hung off her body. "Sleep well?" 

"With you? Always," she nodded. Jason didn't want to think about how bad his sleep was going to get upon his return home. He had been sleeping solidly through the night and going back to his usual nightmares and lack of hours pained him. For the first time in a long time, he felt filled with life again. "You didn't have to make me breakfast, you know?" 

"Of course I did," Jason scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. How could he not make breakfast for a beautiful girl sleeping in his bed, in his clothes? "What kind of Gentleman would I be if I didn't?" 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Gentleman. Jason laughed at her reaction, the sound echoing through the small room. She trailed her fingers along the curve of his biceps before planting her palm against his cheek. He quickly pecked her lips before returning to the stove. 

Jason intently focused on the pancakes in front of them, hoping to make a perfect flip. After his success, a small box was placed in front of him. (Y/N) had a grin on her face as she watched his confusion grow from the box in her hand. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. 

"Come on did you really think you could hide your birthday from me?" She explained. Jason nearly forgot his birthday every year. Age didn't seem to matter after everything he's been through. If it wasn't for Dick being so persistent on getting him a gift every year, he'd ignore it completely. 

(Y/N) gestured for him to grab the box from her. "You didn't have to get me anything," Jason gave her a look. He didn't want a gift; he didn't want to celebrate or anything of the sort. Reluctantly, he grabbed the small box from her hands and pulled the string to open it. Inside, a silver chain laid. 

It was simple and somewhat reminded him of the one his brother wore day-to-day. However, looking at it closer, he noticed a small chain was replaced with a solid link. The small initial of (Y/N)'s name was engraved on it. "I know what you're thinking, kind of narcissistic to get my letters engraved on it but... with us leaving in a couple of weeks I just wanted you to have something to remember this summer by." 

Jason felt his jaw tremble for a moment. He could hear the pain in her voice at the idea of them splitting ways. The meaning behind the gift that meant more than she would ever know. He set the gift on the counter and brought her into a bone-crushing hug. Jason didn't like celebrating his birthdays, but this was the best gift he could have received. 

His head was nuzzled into the crook of her neck, trying to hold back the emotions that ran through him. "I take it you like it?" She tried to joke. Jason nodded against her. He took a deep breath to calm himself before pulling away. His hands rested on her cheeks, admiring every bit of beauty. 

"I love you," Jason kissed her. His heart swelled with love. "This summer... I'll never forget it. I just, I just want you to know that this summer meant everything to me. I can't thank you enough for everything that you've done." 

"You don't need to thank me, Jay. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect summer love. You changed my life... You made me happy and that's all I wanted. I should be thanking you for deciding to come to this shitty little town. Maybe it was fate, maybe I just have ridiculously good luck. Either way, I'm glad I got to get to know you, Jason Todd." 

I'm still looking for a summer love A pretty, single girl who wants to have a little fun But only be engaged for about three months Then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

Jason couldn't stop the memories of last summer from flooding him. Every building he passed, every street he went through, all he could think about was her. Her smile, her laugh, the annoying way that she too adorable for her own good. He was consumed with the thought of her again. 

Although parting ways nearly ten months ago was hard, they both knew that by the end of the summer they would have to say goodbye. The love that they had was nothing but a summer love, and as much as neither of them were really ready to let go - it was for the best. Hearts weren't broken that day, they were filled with a reminder that even a summer love can prove that there's always someone out there. 

It hurt less that day than it did for Jason driving through. He had no intentions of coming back - not when he was sure that if they saw each other again, he wouldn't be able to leave again. It was a spontaneous choice that led him back there, one that he hoped he wouldn't regret. 

His friends and family asked him a countless amount of questions on why he was gone so long and what he had been doing. Jason held out, he couldn't care to tell his family of what he had done with his time. That was his privacy, and he intended to keep it that way. The last thing he needed was his brothers knowing that he stayed for a girl. 

A girl that changed him, made him happy. A girl that encouraged him to be his best self. Sure, they had noticed his change in attitude, his willingness to smile more often, to laugh louder. It was Dick that pestered him to no end to figure out what had happened to him. Hell, he didn't even know where his little brother was. 

Artemis was glad to see him happy again. She was the only one who didn't interfere with his personal life. The only one that was just happy to see him happy, without needing to know the why. He appreciated that. 

Jason stopped at the place that they had first met - the bakery. It was a different woman in there than usual, much younger but far crankier than the kind lady that made Jason feel welcome. He ordered two apple turnovers - just as (Y/N) had recommended him. 

He sat out on the bench just outside the bakery. A reminder of the hours that they could spend there, stuffing their faces with donuts and laughing at everything imaginable. The heat of the mid-July sun beat down on him, filling him with the warmth he hadn't felt since he left there. 

Why was he so nervous to go see her? (Y/N)'s home was less than a mile's walk away and yet Jason couldn't bring himself to move his legs towards her. It was as if he was meeting her for the first time again and fuck was he nervous. 

Subconsciously, Jason grabbed the chain she had bought him. He spun it back and forth against his neck, remembering back to the day that she had given it to him... and the day that they had said goodbye. He never took it off after that day - not for anything. It always remained tucked under his shirt as a constant reminder. 

Jason sighed. His elbows rested on his legs and he looked down to the ground. God did he miss her. He knew that he shouldn't, that they had a love with a deadline. He knew that from the start, he told himself that he wouldn't get hurt by it - and he wasn't. Leaving the town wasn't the issue, being back in Gotham wasn't either. 

It was coming back. A mistake that he chose to make. 

"I know that white streak anywhere," a familiar voice spoke. They blocked the sun from shining down on him. Jason looked up, a smile on his face at the woman in front of him. "Jason, it's so good to see you." 

Jason couldn't tell whether he was happy or disappointed that the woman in front of him wasn't (Y/N). The kind lady from the bakery stood in front of him. She looked weaker than the last he has seen her - which may have explained the reasoning for her lack of work. He slid over on the bench and offered her a spot next to him. 

She waved her hand, "I can't be staying, but thank you," she told him. "I assume you're back here to see (Y/N)?" 

Jason let out a breath - it didn't seem real being back there until he heard her name again. "Yes, Ma'am." 

"I'm sorry, dear," She spoke. "(Y/N) didn't come back this summer. She stayed at school." Jason felt his breath catch in his throat. School, further away from Gotham than her hometown was. He should have known that she would - she talked about it all summer. Wanting to stay in the city, find work, make a life for herself. 

Jason knew that. He knew that she wouldn't be back there. Yet, he had come anyway hoping to see her again. His heart cracked. This was for the best. (Y/N) (L/N) was a summer love. No communication, no texts or calls since he left. That was the deal. It was easier for both of them that way. 

"It's good to see you again, Jason. You've grown up even more since last year," The lady from the bakery gave him one last smile before entering the shop. She paused at the door, looking back at him. "Summer loves don't always have to end in the fall, not if you don't want it to end." 

No, they didn't have to end. They could go on for years and years - no longer a summer love but a true love. But at what cost? Jason's life was disastrous. He had told himself from the start that he didn't want her brought into it, even if it meant giving up his slice of happiness. He couldn't break that promise. 

Summer loves didn't have to end, but in his life, he had no other choice. 

I could be asking for too much But wouldn't it be nice to soak up a little sun But only be engaged for a couple of months And then we'll go our separate ways, ways, ways, ways

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd one shot #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood oneshot #fluff #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #summer love

[writing-gifts]

Finding Home (merman!Elliott x gn!reader)

A/N: Me and a friend, @hideyoosh, worked on this stardew valley reader insert fic together. There should be more chapters in the future hopefully. 

-------

The tree branches sway as the fallen leaves are carried in the gentle wind.

Today was a perfect day for fishing. You had been so caught up in tending to your autumn crops that you hadn't taken the time to focus on your hobbies. It wasn’t like you didn't enjoy farming though, it was just nice to take a break every once in a while.

Unfortunately, the lake in the forest south of your farm seemed to be quiet today. Nothing was biting, even with the bait you had hooked on. This was extremely peculiar since every time you came here multiple fish would bite throughout the day. You'd even throw some back. But now it was well into the afternoon and you hadn't caught a single thing.

You sigh and lean back in your seat you placed on the dock. Good thing you brought one with you.

While you contemplate whether you should call it day or not, your rod jerks forward. You finally had hooked something!

You scramble to try to reel it in hoping, praying, that it wasn't trash that got caught. However you cross that off quickly. Whatever you had at the end of the line was fighting back hard.

You put up your best fight, set on making this fish yours and it seems like neither of you will let up. But then your line suddenly snaps.

The release of tension sends you and your chair falling backwards. Your mouth gawks at the destroyed line on your iridium fishing rod. This wasn’t any cheap rod either. In fact, it was brand new!

What could have been strong enough to do this?

You pout at the loss of an incredible catch and your line that you would now have to fix.

"Dammit…"

Suddenly, you hear splashing from the lake and look up to see a man in the water not too far away from you. You had never seen this man in town before so you're immediately alarmed.

How long had he even been in the water?

"I’m sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" he called out.

Your mouth hangs open and you’re at a loss for words.

The man had long ginger hair, and deep green eyes. Along with his defined cheekbones and sharp jawline, he might as well be physically flawless. Part of you couldn't believe he was even human.

He holds out your hook, the broken off piece of your line hanging from it, and begins making his way closer to the dock.

"I apologize for breaking it, but I couldn't get it out otherwise so…."

You finally manage to somewhat collect yourself back onto your chair and try to make sense of what was happening. Surely you would have noticed someone out in the lake before you cast out your line, so how did he get hooked?

He stares at you, and you stare right back. His gaze was warm and honest, almost naive.

Breaking the momentary silence, you utter a very eloquent, "What?"

"This hook. I believe it belongs to you seeing as we’re the only ones here. Thought I would return it since my arm has no better use for it."

You give a breathy laugh and reach for the outstretched hook. “Yeah I suppose you’ve got a good point there. Thanks.”

You take the hook from his hand, your fingers just brushing up against his. The small bit of contact has your face heating up unexpectedly and you look away.

What's wrong with you?Just an ounce of human contact and you're on fire! Touch starved much?

The other equally reasonable part of you argues otherwise though.

The man is a living, breathing deity of grace and beauty! Anyone with eyes can argue that. How am I still conscious?

And somehow you agree with both.

Once you take the hook, you notice the blood on his left arm.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hook you. I’d be a sorry excuse for a fisherman if I could only fish men."

He offers a short laugh and replies, "That's quite alright. You were just trying to catch a meal.”

Oh, I caught a meal alright...

“I assure you it appears much more garish than it actually is." He pokes around the wound to demonstrate no reaction. “See?”

"Please, it's my fault you’re hurt so I can at least help you clean the wound. My farm’s not too far, I’ll grab a first aid kit and be back.”

You get up from your chair quickly and give him no time to argue. If you were fast enough you could be back within an hour, so you half-sprint the trip back to your farm.

As you look through your medicine cabinet for anything else you might need, you remember the times you hurt yourself with fishing hooks. Sure, they can be annoying to deal with, but that’s really all. You can't really say much for experiencing getting hooked and reeled though.

Catching yourself zoning out, you quickly gather what you need before heading to the dock once more.

You run down the old wooden planks to your chair and pole, but you don’t find the injured stranger there with them.

Confused, you look around in the distance to see if he got out of the water somewhere. As soon as you turn to look behind yourself, you feel something grip your ankle. You shriek and frantically try to kick it off.

“WHAT THE F-”

"Shh! Please don’t scream! It’s me!"

Your ankle is released and you fall backwards onto the dock. Again. You scoot closer to the edge and meet an apologetic gaze. The man was still in the water after all. You give a sigh of utter relief.

“I’m so glad it’s you and not a murderous mythical fish monster...Where did you go?”

“I was diving a bit while you were gone. I’m sorry. It was ill mannered of me to grab you so suddenly,” he said earnestly.

Part of you wonders why he didn't just call out to you but you shrug.

“All is forgiven.”

You place a towel and first aid kit on your fish cooler and motion to the chair next to it.

"Can you get out of the water for me? You can sit on this seat so I can clean you up."

"Um…"

"What’s up?"

He visibly tenses at the question and musters out, "I just don't think I can get up into that seat."

He moves closer to the pier and places his hands on the worn wood before trying to lift himself up and falling back in the water.

“Not a problem man! I’ll help you up.”

“Wait!”

You take a good grip on his arm, muster all the strength you used trying to reel him in the first time, and heave him onto the dock. Your eyes widen when you see that his bottom half isn't human at all. His hips were completely covered in burgundy scales and as he sits himself on the edge of the pier, you realize that his lower body tapers off into a giant tail.

For the second time today you find yourself struggling to find words.

The man--no merman realizes your shock and gives an empty chuckle. "I've scared you again…"

Immediately, you blink and shake your head. "I--I'm just a little surprised, but not scared. You’d be surprised yourself that this doesn’t even top the list!"

Supernatural beings in this town aren’t exactly few and far between, are they?

“Anyways, tail or not, your arm still needs attention. Lift it up for me?”

The man gapes back at you but does as you say. It seems he’s the one left speechless this time.

You grab the disinfectant spray off the cooler and move the bandages to the seat before approaching him.

"This might sting a little."

You spray where the hook had got him and you realize that the gash goes down further than you thought originally. It begins near his shoulder and fades out around the middle of his bicep due to you trying to reel him in. The guilt starts to set in pretty fast as you inspect the wound.

As you try to take your mind off the damage you caused you notice the merman seems lost in thought.

"What's your name?" you ask.

He seems surprised yet relieved by the break in the silence. He slips into a relaxed and elegant smile and says, “Elliott. Might I ask you yours?"

"I’m ____, but most people just call me the farmer around here."

"Then it's very nice to meet you, farmer."

You grab the bandages but then remember that the Elliott would eventually have to go back in the water. So you fiddle with the packaged roll in your hands instead.

"Well, I think I'm done. I can't wrap the wound cause it would be bad if the bandages got wet. Will you be okay?"

"You needn’t worry! It will heal in no time at all and even more so since you helped me." He gives you a very charming smile and you can't help returning it.

He’s really different from everyone else in town, you think to yourself, and not just because of the whole merman situation. Elliott had a mature and sophisticated manner of speaking which was a welcome change of pace. And speaking with him was effortless as it was enchanting. You hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

"Do you live here?"

The merman frowns slightly before shaking his head. "Unfortunately, I appear to be stuck between a rock and a hard place in terms of my home.”

"Oh, are you lost?"

"Not necessarily. I ended up here because I had nowhere else to go. The humans in blue along the coast have closed off any underwater entrance back into the ocean from here."

You tilt your head wondering what he means before it hits you.

Joja.

"The dam--They must have shut it off completely. But they said that they wouldn't!"

Your brow furrows as you try to figure out how this happened. Earlier in the year, Joja had finished the construction of their dam running along the outlet of the river bank to the sea. All you knew about it was bits of information you overheard in the saloon, really, and that helped you remember two things. That the dam was unfortunately an energy powerhouse in Stardew Valley and Joja was only allowed to build the dam under the condition that they could not mess with the river bank’s environment.

Cutting off the sea from the river is a huge interjection! They couldn't even do it without the proper authorization! What could they possibly be hoping to gain from a severed connection between the river and ocean?

Your thoughts come to a halt when you see Elliott giving you a concerned look. The last thing you want to do is give him more reason to worry, so instead you inhale deeply and do your best to comfort him.

"I'm sorry that happened to you. I wish I could help you get back."

He smiles weakly, "Your kindness and concern are enough."

The sentiment was nice but you shake your head. "No, I'm going to help you get back home. I've just decided."

The merman's eyes widen. "But how?"

"...That is a good question." You think for a moment but nothing is really coming to mind.

"I don't know yet but I'm sure we can come up with something eventually!"

Fortunately, that's enough to raise Elliott's spirits. "Perhaps you're right. They do say two heads are better than one."

You smile, but maybe you need to recruit some assistance though.

#stardew valley #stardew elliott #elliott x farmer #elliott x reader #reader insert #stardew valley x reader #dabbling a little out of jojo lol #sdv elliott

[willowbird]

Hey! For the au + trope + prompt thing, could you do 1 for au, 9 for trope and 27 for prompt with pynch?

(P.S: I just remembered you have already done one with pynch, so you can do this one with another ship of your choosing if this one feels repetitive!)

Roommates AU, strangers to lovers, “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.” ~ for pynch!

I am more than happy to write 10,000 roommate aus for these idiots <3

---

It all started with an only mildly suspicious ad on craigslist:

Roommate needed $275/mo - utilities included must be ok with corvids good w/cars a plus - rent discount if u can prove it

Adam wasn't an idiot. He knew something that was too good to be true when he saw it. He also knew that answering a craigslist ad for a roommate was a good way to get stabbed, robbed, and God only knew what else.

And yet...

Sometimes, when your options were limited it really was better to take every possible avenue to get away from the devil you know - even if that means sharing a small apartment with the devil you don't.

Well, the devil and his pet raven. And really, Chainsaw was by far the more agreeable of the two.

That being said, it wasn't like Ronan was awful. He was an asshole, and he was downright grumpy bastard anytime before 11am. He listened to terrible music, if that trash could ever be considered such. Chainsaw was a sweetheart, though, always bringing Adam new shinies for his approval and sitting with him while he worked on a paper or research or any number of other assignments for his degree.

(Taking the risk that he had by jumping at that craigslist ad meant that he was able to cut back on his hours a little bit at work, go to school full time, and start amassing a savings account.)

And, okay, Ronan probably had some merits too. He could cook, for one thing. Not to say that Adam couldn't cook. He could - he just didn't like to. If it were up to him, he'd probably subsist on saltines and hard-boiled eggs. In fact, he had done exactly that for the first two weeks living with Ronan until the other man had dropped a full plate of breakfast in front of him, stole his crackers, and pointed at him. "Eat like a fucking grown-up," he'd said -and... well, that was that. Sure, Adam had tried to protest, but Ronan had just... started making food for the both of them and maybe if it was shitty food or even mediocre in quality Adam would have been able to ignore it - but it killed something inside Adam to waste food. Especially good food. And Ronan's food was fucking amazing.

So, there was that.

He also wasn't an absolute terror to be around. Having a conversation with Ronan Lynch was a choose-your-own-adventure novel written by very high geniuses. You really never knew what you were going to get and each alternate path was bound to be either completely bat-shit crazy or a humbling level of profound. Not only that, but Ronan didn't pull that alpha-male bullshit so many other men did where they refused to admit they didn't know something. No, when Adam proved that he knew what he was talking about when it came to cars, Ronan just said "teach me?" with such open intensity that Adam couldn't really tell him 'no', alright?

And then there were days like today, where Adam got home from an early shift at the garage to find Ronan sitting halfway out of their third-floor apartment, securing a thick rope to a hook above the window that definitely hadn't been there when Adam left that morning.

"Are you about to do something stupid again?" Adam called up to him as he got out of his car. Upon hearing his voice, Chainsaw (who had been circling anxiously above) crowed out a warbled imitation of speech that sounded a lot like 'Atom' and coasted down to him.

"Me? Stupid? Nah, this is gonna be fucking amazing," Ronan called back without looking away from his work.

Chainsaw landed on Adam's shoulder and clapped her beak affectionately near his ear. Adam dutifully lifted a hand to stroke at the soft feathers of her neck. If he also whispered 'hello beautiful girl, is your papa making trouble for you again?' it was between him and the bird and Ronan would never need to know.

Chainsaw crooned a tense 'kreh!' that Adam took as an affirmative.

"What exactly are you doing, Ronan Lynch?" Adam called up as he took another look at the setup, walking closer to the building. The rope that Ronan had just finished tying to the hook was already secured to a tree on the edge of the parking lot, the one that stood awkwardly out from the rest of the tree line. Their apartment complex was situated right on the edge of a forest preserve. A lot of Ronan's hair-brained ideas usually came back to the forest in one way or another.

"This is just a test run. If I can get it to work right, I'm going to set a line straight into the forest."

"Mm, yes, because... leaving civilization through a door is beneath you?"

Ronan paused, then grinned down at him, the expression somehow both boyish and savage in a way that always made Adam's heart jump for some reason. "Actually, yeah. Literally."

Adam rolled his eyes but didn't bother to fight the smile. "Punk."

"I resent that. I reject all labels, Parrish - you know that."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Well if you-- Ronan what are you doing?"

Ronan had produced what looked like a fucking tie (was that the one Ronan's brother Declan had been wearing when he came by for dinner a couple weeks back?) and had wrapped one end around his hand. As Adam watched, he flicked the loose end of the tie over the taut rope and then wrapped it around his other hand.

"Told you it was a test run, Parrish. That mean's I've actually got to test it."

"Ronan I don't think--"

But it was too late. Ronan had already jumped out of the fucking third-floor window like he was expecting to fly. For a second or two, he sort of did. The rope bowed but supported him and the smooth tie provided little friction as Ronan began to zoom down at a steep angle. Then the rope shuddered and went completely slack, the hook having torn free from the side of the building where it clearly had not been properly anchored. Ronan plummeted like a stone in a still pond.

"Ronan!" Adam did not make the active decision to move, but he was suddenly sprinting to where the jumbled heap of Ronan Lynch had landed on the rough pavement. Chainsaw had already launched ahead and was hopping around near Ronan's head, squawking out anxious reprimands of 'Kerah! Kerah!'

Adam skidded to his knees beside Ronan just as the other man was shakily trying to sit up. "What the FUCK Ronan Lynch!? What were you thinking!? You can't just jump out of a God-forsaken third-floor window like that. Do you want to be killed?" Adam didn't even care that the rural-Virginian flavor of his youth had coated his words in a thick batter, he was so mad.

Ronan blinked at him and there was a strange mix of confusion and pain and... something else on his face. "Scared, Parrish?" The words did not come out as teasing as they normally would.

"Scared? Scared? Of course I was scared. You... you fucking idiot!" Adam had to give himself a moment. He raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, then another. He closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Fear and anger would get him nowhere, even if the fear had already set its nasty little hooks into each and every one of his nerve endings and the anger felt like the only way to burn them away.

A hand touched his shoulder, then his cheek. Adam opened his eyes and Ronan was wearing another indecipherable expression, his dark eyes hooded, his mouth pursed.

"Come on," Adam said as he leaned back so he could stand up. "Can you stand?" Chainsaw continued to hop around, but she'd stopped her distressed shouting, perhaps sensing that Adam was taking control and feeling more comfortable knowing that he would set things to rights, whatever that might mean.

Ronan was quiet for a moment, then seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts before giving a derisive snort. "It was just a little fall, Parrish, I'm --fuck!" Ronan had just tried to stand up, but his knee buckled out from under him as soon as he put his weight on it. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, alright. Alright. Shit. Fuck. That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend."

"The standing or the stupid fucking stunt you pulled jumping out of a goddamn window?" Adam asked. He attempted to make it as dry as possible, trying to get them back to some kind of equilibrium, but his heart was still racing a bit too fast and he could hear the angry bite in his own words.

Still didn't stop him from instantly stepping forward and catching Ronan, though. He wound an arm around Ronan's waist, guiding Ronan's arm over his shoulders so he could support him.

"The standing, of course. Shit! Ah... fuck. My idea for the apartment-forest zipline is fucking genius thank you."

Adam helped Ronan hobble forward, taking them back toward his car instead of the building. "Yeah. Right. Whatever you say, Lynch."

"Where are we going?"

"To the hospital, dumbass," Adam said with a roll of his eyes, all but shoving Ronan into the passenger seat. He held the door open for Chainsaw to be able to swoop in and land on the idiot's lap. The least Ronan could do was soothe her for the drive.

"You don't have--"

Adam cut him off with a glare. "We. Are. Going. To. The. Hospital. Am I being perfectly clear?"

"...yes." Ronan glared back, but then sank down in his seat, expression mulish.

Adam fixed him with a hard stare that lasted another few heartbeats, then gave a nod and snapped the door shut.

So yes, Ronan Lynch wasn't all that bad. Sometimes the devil you don't really is the better choice. Because sometimes that devil has a cute bird and makes good food and has great conversation. If he also scares the shit out of you on the regular and makes your heart race inexplicably, well, that's not so bad a deal. Right?

#asks #ficlet prompts #fanfic #pynch #trc #roommates au #adam parrish #ronan lynch #chainsaw #adam parrish x ronan lynch #pynch fanfic #trc fanfic

[jjmaybankx]

HOLD HIM » JJ MAYBANK

this is an idea i got while watching jj edits on instragram

Summary: When the pursuit of John B and Sarah ends up with Shoupe and the sheriff’s department unable to find them in a storm, the parents of the rest of the Pogues arrive to comfort their children, but everyone knows that Luke Maybank couldn’t care less about his son.

Warnings: angst

i apologize in advanced for any crying. it made me cry to write and i had to take a break from it.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦ ⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

Sitting on the coach, you were watching the TV intently. With the remote in your hand, you switched between different Outer Banks news stations trying to find an answer, a result, an ending, to the nightmare that had ridden over the island that day like a storm cloud.

A man hunt for John B, it was absolutely insane. Despite not being apart of their little group, you had known the Routledge enough to know he hadn’t killed anymore, especially not Peterkin. Not the one person adult who looked out for him when it came to CPS.

You paced around your living room, looking at your phone in hopes that JJ had texted you, letting you know that they found his best friend. You tried to talk him into letting you go with them on their little adventures, but he had made it clear that he had to make sure you were the one thing that was safe.

But what about him? Who was going to make sure that JJ was safe and sound? You didn’t want to sound like you didn’t like his best friend, you definitely didn’t want to talk bad about someone who was in danger, but you also knew that John B was nowhere in sight these past few days when JJ needed him the most. When Pope got jumped on the Figure Eight, when JJ, Pope, and Kiara got into a fight at the movies, when JJ got arrested and then beat by his father. Where was John B?

You knew that John B told JJ he was sick of his shit, and not even an hour later, Luke Maybank had nearly killed him. And John B wasn’t there for him.

You didn’t want to talk down on his best friends since the third grade, you didn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend, but with John B’s mind on the gold and Luke Maybank’s mind of alcohol and drugs, who the hell was left to look out for JJ?

You couldn’t discredit John B though. His few days of negligence of his friends didn’t compare to the years and years he had been there to support each and every one of them, but it still broke your heart when JJ came to your house, heartbroken as well after his fight with John B over Barry’s money.

“Fuck it,” you cursed, turning the TV off and throwing the remote onto the couch, grabbing your keys from the small hallway table near your front door. You threw on a raincoat and went outside, despite an active storm hitting the island. 

As you drove through the rough winds and heavy rain, you wondered how the hell the Panthom could survive the waves you could see from your window. You just prayed that Sarah and John B made it out in one piece. Shitty friend lately or not, John B was JJ’s family for life.

You safely got to your destination, praying that JJ would be there. As you turned into the parking lot, you saw the Heywards and the Carreras all piling into the building. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that meant JJ was there, but you frowned when you realized Luke Maybank and his truck were nowhere in sight.

Disappointed, but not surprised.

You found a parking lot and went running, trying to go as fast as your legs would take you without slipping on the rain-soaked pavement. When you got inside, the parents were all hugging their children.

You looked around for JJ, seeing his blonde hair sticking out from the small huddle, squished between all of the Heywards. 

Heyward saw you first, loosening his grip on JJ. When the boy peeked his head up, Heyward patted his shoulder. JJ spun around quickly, and you wondered if he had thought maybe you were his dad. 

The slight disappointment in his face at the sight of you didn’t cause any offense on your behalf, you knew that he wished his dad was there to hold him. His chin started to waver in unison with his bottom lip, and you ran over to close the gap between you and the tall surfer boy. He wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you closer into his chest as he rocked you both side to side, sobbing into your neck.

“Baby...” you trailed off, unsure what Shoupe had told them, but the looks on everyone’s faces, you had a feeling you didn’t need confirmation to what you already assumed: they didn’t make it.

Sobs wracked through his body, and he almost lost his own balance as he clung onto your small body. You looked around, trying to find an answer from anyone’s faces, but the sound of Kiara’s sobs into Pope’s neck caused you to start crying, too.

You placed a hand into his hair, trying to bring any kind of comfort to him. He pulled away for a second, and as you wiped your eyes, something was placed on your head. You looked up at your boyfriend, able to see the flap of his red cap he was wearing the last time you saw him that day. You flipped it so it didn’t get in the way when you pulled him back into a hug, rubbing his back before he went to hug his friends. You stepped to the side with the parents.

“Did someone call Mr. Maybank?” you asked in a whisper.

“I did,” nodded Heyward with a solemn smile. “He hung up the phone on me.”

“Bastard....” you mumbled out a curse, wiping tears that were flowing down your face. “They didn’t find them, did they?”

“Lost them in the tropical depression,” Mrs. Carrera said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you all looked at the group in front of you, mourning for their best friends.

“I don’t think that boy should be going home tonight,” Heyward said, looking at JJ. “And he shouldn’t be going to the Chateau either.”

“Want to take him with us?” his wife asked him.

“I can take him with me,” you said. “My parents won’t mind.”

Heyward nodded, glancing outside at the rain to see it had softened a bit.

“Okay, you two be careful on your way home. I want texts that you made it,” he said to you, and you knew the extra caution was because John B wouldn’t be texting anyone that he made it.

You took off your rain jacket as JJ came towards you. As you made your way outside, he held it up over both of your heads as you ran towards your car, throwing it into the backseat once you got into your seats. 

His breathing was jagged, a hiccuping sound coming from him between the sniffles. The radio that was normally on, you and your boyfriend blasting music and singing as you coasted down the streets replaced with a grieving silence. 

You grabbed his hand, keeping the other on the steering wheel as you made your way to your house. Your parents were on the porch, you had texted them already that you planned to pick up JJ. Each of your parents rushed to each side of the car, holding open umbrellas to walk you into the house. You pulled your phone out as they walked the two of you to the front door.

To: Heyward We’re home safe. I’ll take care of him.

The smell of fresh clam chowder rang through the house, and you saw JJ’s head peek up at the whiff of it. A small smile formed on his sad face as your parents put the umbrellas into an empty trash can you kept near the door for them, heading into the kitchen without asking any questions further than, “Are you okay” and “Do you want something to eat, JJ?”

“Why don’t you two get cleaned up?” your mom suggested with a sad look on her face, going into the kitchen.

You held JJ’s hand, bringing him to through the hallway to your room when you heard your mom break down in the kitchen.

“They’re just kids, baby,” she said to your father. “Those were just kids on that boat.”

JJ choked out another sob as soon as you reached your bedroom, but he pushed you away as he went to your drawer, where the bottom one was all his. He got to his knees, going through it to find clothes.

“John B bought me this,” he said as he started to take articles of clothing out, throwing them about the room.

You held a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress a sob of your own. You sat down on the floor when JJ let his weight crash over, leaving him on his ass with a shirt in his hand. He kept balling it up and then letting go with one hand to wipe his face. Slowly, you made your way to where your boyfriend was, sitting on the floor in behind him. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him back into your arms as he cried into the shirt.

If you had been told a week prior that your lives would be turned upside down because of buried treasure, you wouldn’t have believed then. But watching as your boyfriend, the boy who was held the worst hand and still managed to smile everyday, break down in pain-filled sobs, you knew, you just knew, that nothing would ever be the same again. 

Not if Shoupe didn’t find the boat. Not if John B and Sarah didn’t call from the Bahamas.

PART TWO

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦ ⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

taglist (send in an ask to be added!)

@ellystone @spilledtee

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj obx imagines #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj outerbanks imagines #jj obx imagine #rudy pankow #outerbanks #outer banks #obx #obximagines #obx imagines

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 1 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: Gene Page/AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: This will be a collection of conversations set before the events of season 9 in which the reader speaks with Negan while in his cell as they recount events and memories from their time in the Apocalypse as well as stories of his own. 

Word Count: 2417

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Open Season” by Josef Salvat

Note: These are going to be smaller stories that I will be updating randomly. Each fic will be a conversation/situation about Negan in his cell in Alexandria. Some maybe very short, others not. I am still working on the other stories, but I wanted to post this as I work on those as well. Thank you for your kind words about my family, I really appreciate it.

------

“I just don’t know why you’re asking me to do this, Michonne.” 

You stood across from Alexandria’s head of security in her kitchen. Michonne meticulously cleaned her Katana as you spoke, remaining calm the entire time. When she had asked you to meet her today, you never imagined this would be the reason. 

“Gabriel is worried about his state of mind,” Michonne said, “He thinks somebody should be speaking with him on a regular basis.” 

“Isn’t that already Gabriel’s job?” you asked. “He’s always the one who’s down there.” Michonne sighed, sliding the blade back into its sheath.

“He believes that he can no longer get through to him and that they’ve become too familiar with each other,” Michonne said, placing her sword down and bracing her hands against the kitchen counter, “I also think we can benefit from it and I suppose he can as well.” You frowned. 

“You’re asking me to become Negan’s therapist,” you pointed out. “How is any of that beneficial?”

“Whether we like it or not, Negan did run an entire community unchallenged. He may have insight into this world that we don’t and I have started to think that perhaps keeping him so isolated isn’t doing anyone any good,” Michonne explained. “I am asking you because you don’t have a relationship with him. The two of you never interacted during the war and you made sure to stay out of his line of sight for most of it. You’re not a total stranger, but he doesn’t know you like he knows Gabriel, me, or even Aaron.”

“So, basically, you want someone he can’t push around by pushing their buttons,” you concluded and Michonne grimaced. 

“You were also a teacher, (Y/N),” said Michonne, “that is something you two have in common. Maybe that will get him to open up or at least… God, I don’t know what I want the outcome to be, but Rick wanted Negan to be a symbol for how we can grow as a society. I don’t know if he can ever be redeemed, but if he can even a small amount, then it may start with you.” 

“You pulled out your Rick card,” you said with a sigh, “not fair.” Michonne smiled with a shrug. 

“I knew it would come in handy someday,” she said and you finally gave in. 

“Okay, I will be the big bad wolf’s confidant, but if he tries anything or pisses me off to a degree that makes me want to commit murder, that’s on Gabriel,” you said with a wink and Michonne visibly relaxed. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she said, relieved. “I’m going to let you run it the way you want to, but try not to piss him off if you can.” You smiled at her brightly. 

“Oh, you know me, Michonne, something like that is inevitable.”

-----

When you arrived at the cell an hour later, you dismissed the guard who stood out front. 

If you were going to be talking to Negan to gain insight and trust, you didn’t see the need for a chaperone. As the guard left, you pushed open the heavy door and sealed it behind you. 

“Gabe, if you’re here to give me another life lesson, you can save it. I’m not in the mood,” Negan said in the darkness of his cell. You had never been this close to the man before. You had fought against the Saviors of course, but always at an outpost or in a larger fight. Rick had also used your talents with the sniper rifle and kept you up high most of the time. This whole situation was alien to you and while it was unnerving to be so near to a killer, you didn’t let that stop you from stepping out of the shadows. 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not Father Gabriel,” you said, dragging a chair from the wall and centering it before the jail cell. Negan, who had been laying on his bed with his back to the door, slowly sat up and turned towards you.

In the cool light of the room, you could see him clearly now. His hair was shorter than the last time you had seen him which was when Rick had dragged him into this cell about five years before. He still had the stubble on his face, but the cocky grin that you had gotten used to seeing through your scope was nowhere to be seen. 

“Have we met?” he asked, tilting his head in curiosity. You shifted slightly in your seat, trying to get comfortable. 

“Not officially,” you told him. “I’m (Y/N).” Recognition dawned on his face then. 

“Yes,” he said, sitting forward on the edge of his cot, “Little Miss Grimes has mentioned you before.” It wasn’t news to you that he spoke to Judith. Most people knew that she visited Negan often. The only person who probably didn’t know was Michonne. Judith had confided in you that she wasn’t scared of the man and that all she wanted was for him to know he wasn’t some kind of wild animal. You now started to realize that her reasoning was exactly why you were here. “So what can I do for you, (Y/N)?”

“I’ve been sent by the overlords of Alexandria to be your new best friend,” you explained, crossing one leg over the other. 

“Is that right?” he asked, leaning forward. “Gabe get too bored with little ole me?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” you told him, “but I am here as a favor for Michonne so how about we just accept the new normal?” Negan bowed his head slightly. 

“Well then, what exactly do the big shots upstairs want us to do? Compare breakup stories? Organize a block party?” 

“I see you haven’t lost your wit,” you pointed out, leaning back in your chair.  

“We all have our things, (Y/N),” he said, “I am curious, though,” he went on, “where were you when your people were trying to kill all of mine?” 

“Usually on a rooftop,” you explained, “Grimes always had me up high with the guns.” Negan seemed genuinely thrilled by the thought of that. 

“And you never got me in your cross-hairs and took a shot? Damn, that is incredibly terrifying.”

“I was never ordered to,” you told him. “I was more surveillance than an assassin.” 

“Either way, my men never saw you watchin’ me,” he said and it sounded like a compliment. The way Negan was looking at you reminded you of kids staring at a lion in a zoo. Ironic seeing how he was the one in the cage and not you. Every glance was out of curiosity and you thought you noticed a bit of gratitude in his eyes. Perhaps Michonne and Gabriel were right after all. The man just needed someone to talk to.

“Okay, how about this?” you said, after a moment of silence. He waited for you to continue. “You and I are just gonna talk. You can ask me anything you want and I’ll answer and hopefully, you will return the favor when I want to .” Negan raised a single brow. 

“It’s that simple?” he asked.

“Do you want it to be difficult?” you asked. “I think I could add some really brash and annoying terms to the arrangement if you want."

"You are a very strange person," Negan said.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"As you should," Negan said with a cheeky grin. "However, I am curious about one thing. Don't you hate me?" You mulled over his words for a few seconds before shaking your head.

"Hate, it has caused a lot of problems in this world, but has not solved one yet," you quoted easily. Negan's eyes lit up.

"Morrison?"

"Angelou," you corrected.

"Ah," he said. "Wise woman. So what you're saying is that hating me isn't going to solve anything, am I right?"

"Pretty much," you agreed, crossing your arms.

"But I killed your people," he reminded you. Negan was clearly trying to put you off, but you had expected this. 

"And I killed your people," you said. "Do you hate me?" Negan scoffed, leaning back on his hands as he watched you through the bars.

"You're good," he complimented.

"You didn't answer my question," you said. Negan licked his lips before shaking his head.

"No, I don't hate you. Although, I don't even know you so that could change." This time you let out a quick laugh that was pure instinct at this point.

"Fair enough," you conceded.

"Alright, (Y/N), if you are so inclined to answer questions, answer me this: how did you end up with this merry bunch of survivors?" 

"Simple," you said, "I saved Carl Grimes from a Walker." Negan's face dropped at the mention of the late teenager. You knew about the soft spot Negan had for Carl. It wasn't a mystery, hell, Carl wouldn't have lived long after he attacked the Sanctuary if Negan didn't like him.

"You saved him?" Negan asked, pulling you from your memories.

"Yeah, I met Carl and his mom, Lori, shortly after everything happened," you began, "They, alongside other survivors, were camped at a quarry outside of Atlanta. I was on my own, trying to make it to the coast when I came across their campsite. I was wary of people, of course, but I knew I wouldn't make it far on my own. I stayed around the edge of camp for a while, just gettin' a feel for the people when Carl ran off when Lori wasn't looking. He was running around with another kid from the group." You paused, unsure if you should divulge much more, but Negan was staying entirely focused on your story.

"Carl was with Sophia...Carol's late daughter." Slight surprise entered Negan's eyes, but he remained quiet. You went on, "The two of them got turned around and then Carl being Carl, decided to run off alone without Sophia. He was near me when the Walker came out of the trees and grabbed him. I didn't really think at that moment. I just ran for the kid. I shot the Walker in the head and the next thing I know, I had a crossbow pointed at my back."

"Let me guess, Daryl?" Negan figured. 

"Damn right. Son of a bitch thought I was shooting at the kid, but luckily Carl spoke up and explained. They took me back to their camp and Lori insisted I stay so that's what I did."

"And here you are," Negan said, impressed.

"Here I am."

"That kid was pretty damn special," Negan said fondly. "This world really does take the good ones, don't it?"

"I always think that it would have been easier if a person had killed him instead of a Walker, you know? At least then we would have an enemy." 

"What, you don't think the Walkers are the enemy?" 

"They're just a part of the new world," you explained. "Can't really call them an enemy if they didn't intend to be here in the first place."

Negan was quiet again as your words sank in. In fact, you were surprised that he hadn't spoken over you whenever he got the chance. According to the rest of your friends and family, the man loved to hear himself talk. You stored that new observation away for later.

"In your opinion," Negan said slowly, "what kind of person classifies as an enemy, or rather, just evil?"

"I've seen darkness, Negan," you told him. "We all have and it was before we even heard your name. If you're trying to ask me if I think you’re evil, the answer is no, I don't. Most of us here like myself, Daryl, Michonne, we've all seen what happens when someone has lost all trace of humanity. Seen what they do to other human beings and trust me, those are the evil people of this screwed-up world. You haven't lost your humanity, Negan, and I pray you never will."

Negan leaned his forearms onto his knees, rubbing a calloused hand over his bearded face. Something had clicked inside his head, that much was apparent, but you weren't sure what.

Yet.

"Sounds like you've been through hell," Negan whispered.

"And back," you finished. "Multiple times."

"You gonna tell me that story? About the loss of humanity?" His question wasn't overly eager, instead, it was all curiosity and you were starting to think that was the main characteristic of the man who once called himself the "big bad wolf".

"One day," you nodded. "If you'll let me come back again."

"I get to decide?" he asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, no point in coming down here if you won't talk to me. That would be wasting both of our time."

"Then by all means, (Y/N), feel free to drop by," Negan said, spreading his arms wide in a welcome gesture. You rolled your eyes but nodded.

"If it means anything," you said as you stood from your seat and turned towards the door, "Carl once told me that you were the only person he always trusted to tell him the truth, and coming from him, that's a lot."

Negan looked at you for a long moment before bowing his head. "Thanks for that," he said softly. You gave him a small smile, one more out of understanding than anything. Whether people hated him or not, nobody could deny that he cared about Carl Grimes and that the teen's death had affected him as well.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you told him as you pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the sunlight. Negan didn't call you back as you climbed the steps and began walking home.

You watched as Alexandria spun on, unaware of the emotions that ran deep through you at the moment. Gabriel and Michonne had been right, after all, Negan needed to talk to another human being, but perhaps that was exactly what you needed as well and you had a feeling this was just the beginning of an odd relationship. 

TAGS: @thanossexual​

#the walking dead #twd imagines #twd imagine #negan imagine #negan #negan x reader #reader insert #daryl dixon x reader #y/n #negan x y/n #the walking dead imagine #TWD fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #walkerwords

[dinosaurtsukki]

❀ promises | “a house by the sea for the two of us, that’s what i want” feat. iwaizumi hajime + pacific rim AU

⇢ day 10 of angstcember

⇢ synopsis: you knew the risks that came with the job when you agreed to co-pilot a jaeger with iwaizumi, even more so when you two grew close. every time you get sent out on a mission, you wonder if both of you would be coming back

⇢ content warnings: character death, suicide attack

⇢ a/n: so, back in the day (probs 2015) i was reading this notoriously long and famous hq!! pacific rim AU and it was amazing so i wanted to write my own (it’s nowhere near the quality of that fic tho but i tried ;-;)

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

⇢ word count: 2.5k words

ANGSTCEMBER MASTERLIST (feat. haikyuu!! and bungou stray dogs)

━━━━━━━━✿ ━━━━━━━━

nothing else in the world could compare to the feeling of co-piloting a jaeger. you always remember the first time you saw one up close: all metal and weapons as far as the eye could see, being dropped into the ocean to fight off a kaiju. it looked invincible, it looked like humankind’s problems all solved. 

co-piloting one was absolutely nerve-wracking. just the idea of being able to control a large weapon of that size with your mind and have it imitate your body movements sent your head spinning. even now, as you made it move across the ocean towards where the kaiju was, you still felt that unease.

“hey, don’t act like this is the first time you’re doing this,” iwaizumi’s voice and thoughts interrupted you. he flashed you a cocky grin, shaking you out of your thoughts.

of course, you weren’t doing it alone. a jaeger could never be piloted alone, both in the physical and mental sense. “sorry, just had something on my mind,” you chuckled nervously.

“yeah, well the sooner you get that out of your mind, the sooner we’ll be able to beat this thing and still be able to get something to drink later,” iwaizumi, your co-pilot and lover winked at you.

“is alcohol always on your mind, iwaizumi?” you teased.

“you know for a fact it isn’t, l/n,” he grinned. you smiled, squaring your shoulders in-sync with iwaizumi as your jaeger stood before the prowling category 3 kaiju. 

“let’s do this thing.” 

...

“what did you say, cadet?” 

“i said, i can beat you in five moves,” you retorted, jutting your chin up as you stared straight into the eyes of iwaizumi hajime, one of the youngest jaeger pilots who also happened to be your trainer.

“i’d like to see you try,”  he narrowed his eyes at you before jerking his head in the direction of the training mat in the center used for sparring matches. you strode to your end of the mat and got into fighting stance. it wasn’t that you didn’t respect iwaizumi, quite the opposite actually, but you were eager to prove yourself, eager to get recruited to become a co-pilot. 

and besides, as someone who had to fight every single day when your town was destroyed, you were confident in your skills.

but so was iwaizumi, who had been a cadet when he was just a teenager and a pilot when he hit eighteen. he had fought people and kaijus alike and expected that he would make you eat your words seconds into your sparring match. 

what neither of you expected was that you would be trading blows, without ever landing a single hit, for quite some time. it came to a point that not only the cadets but other officers nearby came to watch the match unfold. suddenly, both of you were stopped by the captain and head of the base.

while you felt a sudden rush of adrenaline at his approving gaze, iwaizumi felt as if a weight was dropped in his stomach. there was a chance that you two were drift-compatible.

...

“let’s finish him off!” iwaizumi exclaimed. 

“you read my mind!” you grinned as the two of you raised your jaeger’s plasma cannon and aimed it at the badly wounded kaiju. there was a loud hum and the crackle of electricity as the plasma cannon charged before firing a shot. you watched with a smile on your face as the kaiju was blown to pieces across the ocean.

“well, that’s that then,” iwaizumi said. 

“good work you two,” your captain’s voice crackled over the radio. “as expected of miyagi base’s best duo.” 

“we have to come up with a flashier name,” you told iwaizumi as you two maneuvered your jaeger back to base. “i mean, that just sounds like a mouthful and not nearly as fear-striking.” 

“oh yeah?” iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you. “how about the miyagi demons?” 

“why demons? aren’t we supposed to be helping people?” 

“yeah but from the kaiju’s perspective, we’re the demons.” 

“i don’t know if they’re capable of having that opinion,” you snorted. 

“hmm, miyagi menaces!” iwaizumi said proudly, causing you to laugh. 

“you are such a dork, you know that?” 

“shut up, i don’t see you coming up with cool names,” he pouted. 

“we have the rest of the night to come up with all the cool names,” you smiled, visibly relaxing now that the entire ordeal was over. even though it was an honorable job, being a jaeger pilot meant that whenever you and iwaizumi went out on a mission, there was a chance that you wouldn’t come back. you had lost too many friends and acquaintances along the way from kaiju attacks and each time you and iwaizumi made it home only felt like you had prolonged your death date. if it wasn’t today, it was going to be on another day.

‘but not today,’ you smiled to yourself as you and iwaizumi headed back to base. only, you were suddenly interrupted by your captain’s voice on the radio.

“l/n, iwaizumi! our signals have picked up something new!” he exclaimed. you felt iwaizumi’s panic first hand as you two quickly turned around to find the spot where you had just killed the category 3 kaiju turn red, meaning another was about to surface. 

“a double attack?!” you verified, hoping you were wrong.

“i-it wasn’t in the prediction,” your captain replied. “some kind of anomaly or the enemy just getting smarter.”

“either way, we still have to kill it, right?” iwaizumi growled, hefting the plasma cannon up. 

“i don’t feel good about this...” you murmured as you two got into stance.

“neither do i,” iwaizumi said through gritted teeth. “but i’ll make sure you get back home in one piece. i promise.” 

“alright,” you nodded, smiling a tight-lipped smile at him before turning your attention to the kaiju that rose to the surface. this one was much bigger than the one you had just faced before, probably twice the size of the jaeger you were in. and to make matters worse, you could tell that it’s entire body was covered with armor plating and it had a long tail with spikes on the end.

with your thoughts connected to iwaizumi’s, you could feel even his unease wash over you like a wave. who knew if either of you were going to make it?

...

it was the drifting that you were worried about. almost anybody could train themselves physically in preparation to become a jaeger pilot, but very few had what it takes to expose themselves mentally with someone else. it was easier for people who were siblings or lovers or best friends, but you and iwaizumi didn’t know each other prior to your first meeting. even after you two were forced to share a living space in the base so that you two would get closer.

but you and iwaizumi were guarded with your own demons that you were reluctant to expose to the other. the first time you tried drifting, neither of you were willing to open your minds and ended up with both of you getting kicked out of the drift. 

which was why you and iwaizumi finally decided to sit down inside your shared bedroom to have a little sharing session. you couldn’t help but laugh when he suggested it but both of you knew just how much you needed this. it was either that, or pass on the role of co-piloting to other cadets.

“okay, i guess i’ll be the one to start,” you exhaled, gripping the sheets under you for comfort as you told iwaizumi how you ended up in the co-piloting program. you lived in a town near the coast and when the kaiju started showing up, it was one of the first ever places that was hit. nobody was prepared, especially not you. 

“i’m sorry,” iwaizumi whispered as you recounted how you were running through the city, pushing past the crowds, only to turn around to see that your parents who were supposed to be right behind you were lying in a crumpled heap on the ground.

“all the more reason to fight them, you know? so less people end up like me,” you shrugged. “you... don’t have to open up again if you don’t want to.” after all, iwaizumi and his former co-pilot, oikawa tooru, had been quite famous back in the day for being young, amazing jaeger pilots. that is, until they faced a category five kaiju with a broken plasma cannon. 

you still couldn’t forget the sight of the kaiju punching a hole through the jaeger, through the pilot’s chamber. you could only imagine how it felt like for iwaizumi.

“it was... intense,” he exhaled, his brow furrowing. “one minute he was just there and the next, the drift connection had completely disappeared but i could just feel him leave. luckily i was able to activate the escape pod.”

“we’ll fight them,” you said, resting your hand over his. “together. we’ll fight as many of them as we can.” 

for the first time in a while, you and iwaizumi had come to a mutual understanding. iwaizumi had a legitimate reason for not wanting to be in the pilots’ chamber again, so you wanted to make it worth it.

...

you were living right in your worst nightmare. 

fighting category five kaijus was nearly impossible without some form of back-up. the miyagi base sent in their jets to fire bombs at the kaiju but with its armor plating, it had little to no effect. your only hope was aiming at the kaiju’s underbelly, but even that was difficult.

your own jaeger was beat up, thanks to the kaiju’s tail and from sustaining a flurry of hits. “brace yourself!” iwaizumi yelled as the kaiju closed its jaws around your jaeger’s right arm and using it to haul you up and toss you to the side. the force of the impact was absolutely jarring and it felt as if your entire head was scrambled.

“y/n! are you alright?” you heard iwaizumi call out to you. the side of his head was bleeding after you were both thrown against the back of the pilot’s chamber. luckily, you were both still strapped into your suits and still very much in the drift. you both got to your feet to find the kaiju still prowling towards you, taking its sweet time.

“how are we going to beat this thing?” your voice shook, knowing that iwaizumi could feel your hopelessness. your mind through the memories of earlier that day: you and iwaizumi eating cereal while watching TV, watering the little succulent you kept by the window, eating and joking around with some of your friends at the base, iwaizumi giving you a quick kiss before you both suited up. was this going to be your last memories?

“hey. we’ll be alright,” iwaizumi said aloud, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. you wondered how he could even smile like that in this situation. “i promised, didn’t i?” 

you nodded slowly. as a jaeger pilot, you were always prepared to die when you went out on new missions. and if that meant going down fighting, hopefully taking the kaiju down with you, with the man you loved, you were prepared to do just that.

...

it wasn’t that rare for couples to end up as jaeger co-pilots, or for co-pilots to end up as couples. but that only made it all the more tragic whenever one or both of them died during a mission. you knew fellow co-pilots who had postponed their weddings only for them to die, or for one co-pilot to be driven mad after losing their partner. it was enough to deter you from having feelings for iwaizumi, but not completely.

because of your drift connection, it didn’t take long for either of you to discover your feelings for each other. after a particularly hard mission where both of you almost died, iwaizumi ended up confessing to you in the changing room after you both departed your jaeger. 

and seeing that it was impossible for you to be apart from each other, both of you gave in.

“do you think we would have met if it weren’t for the kaijus and the jaeger program?” you asked one night while the two of you were in bed, your head laying on his chest. 

“i like to think that we do,” iwaizumi chuckled, running his hand through your hair. “maybe we’d meet each other in high school or university or something.” 

“what would you have wanted to be?” 

“a sports trainer,” iwaizumi said softly. “i was actually into playing sports back then. how about you?” 

“i wanted to own a flower shop,” you chuckled.

“you? a flower shop?” 

“don’t laugh!” you smacked his arm lightly. 

“you’d make a wonderful florist,” your boyfriend laughed and kiss you on the forehead. “maybe i’d run into you while buying flowers for my mom on mother’s day.” 

“and i’d definitely remember the large, muscular guy who entered my shop,” you giggled. “do you think it’s possible? for things to go back to normal? for us to actually survive this whole thing?”

“i don’t know,” iwaizumi replied honestly. “but i know what i want: a house by the sea for the two of us, that’s what i want.” 

...

“i’m sorry, y/n.” 

that was the last thing you could feel him think before iwaizumi kicked you out of the drift, sending you reeling. the kaiju was approaching and fast. 

“hajime! what are you doing?!” you panicked, turning to look at him but his brow was furrowed in concentration as he manipulated a few buttons on his controller. he was piloting the jaeger by himself. before you could say anything else or force yourself back into the drift, you felt yourself being pulled back by the security straps attached to your suit. you recognized the sensation back from when you were still in co-pilot training practicing the emergency protocols for evacuation.

evacuation.

with sudden horror, you realized what iwaizumi was planning, what he planned all along, to do.

“captain? i’ve initiated emergency evacuation for l/n,” you heard him speak into the radio. “please, please make sure to get to their escape pod.”

“understood, iwaizumi,” your captain’s voice crackled over the speakers. “we can’t thank you enough for your bravery and sacrifice.” 

“no! hajime don’t! let me stay! let me do this with you,” you screamed even as you were loaded into the escape pod. 

“sorry, y/n,” you finally heard him speak. it was as if time had slowed down as he turned to look at you once more. you didn’t want to believe that this was going to be the last time you would see iwaizumi’s face ever again. you would never wake up next to him in bed or eat cereal from the same bowl or dream about a future that you knew now you could never have.

“i... i don’t want to go back if you’re not coming with me,” you said.

“i know it’s going to be hard but, try to live well, alright?” iwaizumi said and pressed the button, fully ejecting your pod out of the jaeger before you could say anything else. your screams filled the escape pod as you hammered against it uselessly, even as the kaiju descended on the jaeger with its lone pilot before iwaizumi pressed the self-destruct button.

you’ve always hated funerals, having gone to far too many of them. especially when the deceased co-pilot’s partner was there to receive any medals of honor in their place. that was the first thing you thought of as the people in the base helped you out of your escape pod, offering messages of sympathy for your loss. because of his sacrifice, iwaizumi was surely going to be granted quite a lot of medals with you receiving them in his place. as if they could be enough to make up for the space in your bed and the house by the sea that would forever stay empty. 

���━━━━━━━✿ ━━━━━━━━

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[nostalgic-pancakes]

F is for friends who do stuff together - the awake at 2 AM remix

Joan needs a swear jar, Talyn's a lightbulb, Valerie is tired and valid, and Thomas+Sides are very confused)

Summary- Thomas has had his sides around for... a long time. That's for sure. And he knows that nobody else can see them (except maybe Lilly, but she has sides too, so).

Pairings- Pintroverts, Thomas and friends, Thomas and Sides

Read on AO3

Word count- 2666

Warnings- It has character!everyone, and NOT their real life counterparts. Please remember this.

Other notes- AU where instead of Vine, c!Thomas left chemical engineering for signing with a really dope theatre company with his friends. He still meets Nico at the mall, but Nico's a new writer for the company! All the sides are friends too! Enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Look, the first time was an accident, okay? Joan was tired and a bit incoherent and what was Thomas supposed to do?!! Leave them be? No! So Joan ended up staying the night.

Except, the next morning was when everyone had entered the courtroom together and they'd gotten WAY too dramatic over whether to lie to them about a text they'd made like… two days ago and that Thomas had only seen after combing through a barrage of memes and that Joan probably wouldn't remember, come to think about it. But that was hindsight and after the utter nightmare that was a whole day (A whole day!!) with Aunt Patty the day before, Virgil and Patton were absolutely freaking out, probably giving Deceit (Who, in hindsight, Thomas knows as Janus) a little extra leeway into the conversation that day.

Either way, Joan had stayed the night in order to recover from the utter sleep-deprivation that they'd been going through, and Thomas had forgotten about the fact that Joan was even there for most of the morning, only seeing them after the entire courtroom spectacle (and a suspiciously dire warning from Virgil) at breakfast, and them leaving to see Talyn a little after (with plenty of hugs involved, duh).

Then Thomas told Joan the truth over the call, and Joan had said The Line (as Roman, Virgil and Janus call it with an oddly cryptid-like voice) and Thomas felt himself go frigid.

Since when did Joan know that Thomas talked to his sides?! Had they learned their names? Figured out that Thomas might just have a few extra screws loose than they might have initially thought?

"Maybe they even hate us now because we got so crazed over one little text and--”

“Virgil. Not helping!” Thomas yelps, and Virgil catches himself in his spiel of worst case scenarios, looking a bit sheepish. Patton and Thomas smile at him reassuringly (he hopes) and Logan clears his throat, causing everyone to turn to him.

“Well, Joan seems to be aware enough of the fact that you speak to us, but mostly considers it as you, as they had said, ‘talking to yourself’, and besides, you didn’t name-drop us too many times, anyways. And while it’s not really...ideal, that Joan thinks you talk to yourself for this long-”

“You can say that again, Stephen Hawk-Nerd”, murmured Roman. Logan winces, and Thomas kind of wants to hug him, so he does.

“Yes, Roman, and as bad as that nickname is, note that this is not, in fact a worst-case scenario. This can be put down to the fact that Thomas has some strange personality quirks-”

“Did you just do some wordplay there, kiddo?” Patton beams at the implication, while Logan, currently being shared by Thomas and Virgil, just groans and descends further into the contact.

“No, I did not, Patton, but what I am saying, is that this is not too bad. We can talk about it as a general personality quirk. This is fine.” Logan finishes, and becomes a heap in the total hug-pile of Thomas and Virgil, flopping over. Huh, he (as usual) has a point. Maybe this can work.

The second time was a pretty near miss, but once again, it was unexpected! He and the sides were just watching Mulan together as usual! They were piled up together, blankets in hand, and yeah, it might look weird to anyone who can’t see the sides, he guesses, with the blankets stretched out in places that have nothing to stretch onto, but once again, he wasn't expecting someone to come over! But anyways- whatever happens, happens. He's trying to be better about it.

It really doesn't stop Janus from pulling out all the stops (teaming up with Virgil, even!) when it comes to having to come up with an alibi to Terrence over why the blankets are arranged so strangely, even though there is literally nothing keeping it afloat. In the end, it's not the most believable lie, but Terrence is busy with Valerie just after, so he probably doesn't really think about it too hard. Besides, Thomas has always been a pretty quirky guy! ("Which could be an insul--" "Jack and Sullen, we love you very very much, but please, for the love of all things Disney, please breathe and take out your fidget cube..") So hey, what was a new quirk when added to everything else?

Meanwhile, Terrence is trying to figure out what the fuck he just saw, because he's pretty sure that there were more than one Thomas there, and Thomas only has two other brothers. Also none of them dress like twenties mobsters or are semi-transparent.

Nico was having a good day. In fact, he still is!

He and his (amazing) boyfriend were sitting on the couch- though more draped on top of each other than anything while binge watching ELITE and Tiny Pretty Things, while also being pleasantly high (as opposed to stoned).

Things only entered strange territory when during one of the flashback murder-y scenes in Tiny pretty Things, a strange man who looked like an even more chaotic Thomas with some grey hair on him entered the room from seemingly nowhere, and proceeded to occupy the sparse space on Thomas’s lap with his head, essntially just napping on his boyfriend’s lap while also being kind of see-through (???!!!???AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH). Thomas noticed, waved a small wave and started playing with this weird guy’s hair.

Nico is now a little high from the bong that he and Thomas had shared, but not enough to hallucinate, especially since, when the high was pretty much gone, the guy was STILL THERE. MIERDA. At this point, he’s just going to call it ghosts. Thomas doesn’t seem to mind too much anyways, so they must not be harmful. Nico decides to table this for another day and go back to binge watching crazy maniacs with his very soft and warm boyfriend, and let the remainder of the high coast along.

"We have to talk about the Thomas thing." Is the first thing Joan says without any bullshit, as soon as everyone except Thomas himself, Gavin (because it's two AM) and Quil are packed together in Thomas's living room, where he just binged Parks and Rec with everyone. They've all finally managed to shove Thomas and Quil back to their respective areas of sleep after 42 hours without said sleep, and nobody was allowed to talk loud enough for them to wake up.

"The… Thomas thing?" Asks Valerie. Oh that sweet summer child. Joan once again quietly calls everyone's attention by asking Talyn to shake their hair around like a neon-coloured alarm bell. This was especially effective in the otherwise dark kitchen where they were trying out glow in the dark hair dye.

"Well, as of lately, we've been seeing a lot, and I mean a lot of really weird shit coming from Thomas. Everyone, recount your experiences." Joan says in the most serious voice they've got. "I'll go first."

They wave their hands like Matt Mercer, as if they were setting up a dope DND campaign. Quietly, of course.

"Well, about a month ago now, I was cleaning here, at Thomas's, because I was sleep-deprived and would have crashed and died if I'd tried to go back to mine and Talyn's. So most of the night goes normally, as one would expect, but when I wake up in the morning…" Joan readjusts their beanie. "I hear Thomas in the living room, talking to people called Logan, Roman, someone called Pat, Virgil and 'deceit'. And this debate becomes an ordeal, alright? He re-enacts a whole entire ace-attorney style courtroom scene with these imaginary people? I called him out on it over the phone when he apologized for some random thing- I don't remember, and he kind of just… admitted that he talks to himself? And moved on.

Everyone absorbs this new information. Camden keeps braiding Talyn's hair.

"But that's not too big of a deal, right Joan?" Whispers Camden, tying up the elaborate mini fishtail plait in Talyn's hair. "I mean, thanks Thomas we're talking about. He could have been rehearsing or something- isn't he JD in the next production of Heathers?"

Terrence speaks up next. "Yes, this would have been all well and good, had the Blanket Incident ™ not occured."

Valerie shakes her head. Why are her friends like this? Oh wait. They’re all theatre nerds, queer and D&D players.

"In the blanket incident ™, I was walking past Thomas's room, as one does. HOWEVER, while he was watching Mulan, I noticed something wrong with his blanket pile!"

"What, that they don't have any Vetal Miking references on them? Because that's the true tragedy here."

"Nope, sorry Tal, the weirdness here was not about Vetal Miking references, but the fact that parts of the blanket were freaking floating, in thin air! I have discreet pictures!"

"What the fuck, Terrence." whispered everyone in a strange, haunting unison that could only be possible at two AM as they saw the very strange pictures.

"And that's not it!" Pipes up Talyn, who is now realising that they are very close to becoming too loud for 2 AM kitchen chats, and makes an effort to quiet down.

"At breakfast today, Thomas's waffles were making themselves- Thomas can't cook, y'all. And he can't even use is fucking waffle iron. And he was on the other side of the room! Talking to Quil!" After Quil left, he told the waffle creator to chill out because the stack was getting too tall!"

"Is this about Thomas's ghosts, guys?" Asks Nico, the new cute boyfriend and new theatre company writer as he plops down in Quil's usual spot. Nico's nice- everyone likes Nico except maybe Nico, to which, well, mood. ALSO- ghosts?!!

"Nico what the fuck do you mean by ghosts, you serial killer in training?"

"One, just because I have to write a serial killer in this new script and I'm enjoying it, it doesn't mean I'm gonna be a serial killer, you tonte. Two: yeah, the ghosts that follow him around and look just like him? They seem nice enough." At everyone's super unspoken request to elaborate, for fuck's sake, he takes the hint and does.

“Oh! So the first time I saw them, I was at the mall. You know, where Thomas and I met?” everyone nods, and Talyn readjusts their braces.

“So there was this guy in a hoodie- Virgil, as you said, and the Disney prince. Roman, I think. And they were just kind of… there? Roman was holding Virgil’s shoulder affectionately, and that’s about it. They were only really visible after about three or four hours of us talking, though.” Some of the people hum.

“Then, we were watching a movie and these two guys who also look a lot like Thomas just kind of lounged? On the couch? They were pretty faint, like if their brightness was decreased to about thirty percent in Photoshop.”

“Hey, same!” says Terrence.

“Yeah, so those guys- the one in the green t-shirt that has the legs on the bus meme- so weird- kind of just stretches onto Thomas’s lap and stays there, while the twenties mobster just… curls up to his side? And thomas is probably like, used to this because he kind of just lets it be and curls the meme shirt-”

“I think it’s Remus.”

“-Remus’s hair absentmindedly and moves on.”

“Fuck.” Whispered Joan very softly, but with great feeling.

“So what do we do about it?” asks Camden. There, finally, someone asks the real questions.

“Well,” puts forward Talyn. “They’re not harming him, right? And he’s had them around for a long enough time, right? So what’s the harm? Thomas is just haunted and will probably be on Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural at some point when he dies but hey, if he’s cool with it, we are too.”

Everyone seems to agree with that, and they’re in comfortable silence, until Valerie asks everyone to go the fuck to sleep, we’re still doing the Heather’s costume rehersals and Death Week starts in two days. With groans and cracked joints from Talyn, everyone hobbles off to their respective rooms in the duplex.

Meanwhile, a certain white-streaked side and his hoodied companion are listening through the wall, far away from what anyone can see, and they both visibly sigh in relief. That didn’t go too badly. The question remains: what do we do now?

“They KNOW????” exclaims Thomas, the next day in the (thankfully empty) breakroom, in between rehearsals- Candy Store is being run through and that means that everyone else is outside.

“Yes, Thomas, they know. Or they somewhat know, I suppose.”

“Yeah, because they think we’re-Thomas is being HAUNTED!!’

“Are you not haunted, then?” comes a voice, and Thomas turns around, forgetting to let the sides dissipate in his surprise. It’s Nico, with Talyn and Valerie close behind, who are clearly taking in the six other guys in the breakroom. Well, fuck. The cat’s out of the bag for good, he guesses.

“Could you get everyone else during lunch break? I’ll explain then.” Talyn nods and leaves with a smile, telling him that they’re not mad at him, while Nico asks, voice farther away “So are you haunted or not?”.

“So they’re… aspects of your personality that you’ve been able to manifest since you were a kid?” Camden asks, a bit disbelieving, even as Logan, Roman, Patton and Janus drape themselves over Thomas on one of the beanbags in the breakroom, filled with other nerdy gay young adults. Logan pushes up his glasses, ready to go on another tangent. Go wild, you funky little dude.

“Well yes, that’s exactly what we're saying. I myself am the embodiment of Logic- every fact that Thomas has ever learned, and his, and these are his words, not mine, ‘the only braincell’. He makes the air quotes to go with the expression, but is also smiling fondly.

“Classic Thomas.”

“Yes, Valerie, I am inclined to agree. However, this is not specific to Thomas. Other people can, in fact, do what Thomas is. Lilly Singh is one of them- the reason that she and Thomas are even friends is because in high school Thomas caught her talking to one of her sides in the art room.”

“So wait-- we can summon sides too?!” asks Nico, and he and Camden look genuinely excited, but Thomas knows the answer to that question.

“Unfortunately no, not really. You have to have an extremely active imagination, and also be ‘innocent’, as society would put it. I’d say näive.”

“For example, I couldn’t make any more sides after i was fourteen, because I watched the news by then.” pipes in Thomas. Joan seems to process this first, nodding and grinning sardonically. “Ah yes, the news. Wrecking childhoods since forever.” everyone nods in gay syncing, because gay minds think at the same time.

Valerie suddenly speaks up; “So how many sides do you have, Thomas?”

Thomas perks up, because his sides are possibly his favourite metaphysical beings (as narcissistic as that might sound) “I have six! My logic, morality, both creativities- Kids and Family and PG13-and-up, anxiety and deceit! I have two creativities because of catholic guilt and my mind’s inherent need to cause chaos, I guess.”

“Valid” replied Valerie.

The rest of break passed by pretty smoothly, with questions being passed back-and-forth about what the sides truly were, considering they clearly were not just Thomas, and Virgil even felt okay enough to come in later! So that was good. Though he kind of wishes Remus had made fewer Heathers jokes- Camden was starting to look squeamish, even as Nico frantically took notes of gorey facts to use in his script.

Honestly, Thomas thought to himself. What was I scared of?

Irrational things. And rejection, replies Virgil in his head. He laughs and pulls him in for a hug, and tries as he might to deny it, Virgil is looking pretty chuffed.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #character thomas #nico flores #nico flores x thomas sanders #pintroverts #not rpf #do not repost #ts virgil #ts logan #ts remus #vee's writing #2021 #f is for friends verse

[takemyopenheart]

Think of Me (Waiting series - part 2 of 3)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey and f!MC (Luz Beltrán) | Category: angst | Rating: T | Warnings: depression | Word Count: 2.1k | Ao3 link | Part 1 | Part 3

summary: There are thousands of miles between Ethan and Luz—which begs the question: does absence really make the heart grow fonder?

He feels his chest constrict at the fleeting thought of her, and he shuts his eyes to let the darkness encompass him. But he knows no amount of darkness can overshadow the light that seeps in when she crosses his mind. The past seven weeks have kept him preoccupied, which is exactly what he wanted. Fighting an epidemic was front and center in his mind, but that didn’t mean he was completely void of certain memories.

His body aches from standing long hours and attending to every last patient, and he remembers one instance in which she rubbed his shoulders one night after a long shift. She sat him down between her legs and used her magic touch to massage the ache away; it was unlike anything he’d experienced. He’d argue that any professional masseuse couldn’t hold a candle to Luz. How he would give anything to feel her intoxicatingly soothing caresses...

No. Snap out of it.

If anyone was there to physically slap the thoughts away, he would certainly allow it. Raking his hand through his hair, he bolts for the bathroom to splash cold water over his face. A chill runs through him as the coolness hits his face, and he slouches over, holding both sides of the sink as he takes in deep breaths. His shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and he looks up into the mirror.

The shadows under his eyes are darker than ever, his frown lines are deeper, his stubble has grown. It’s a reflection he’s grown accustomed to in the past month. He rarely wants to sleep, there’s no time for that when people need him. But it’s no wonder his colleagues forced him to take the day off. He finally realized they were right in that he needed to take a recess if he wanted to be in tip-top shape for the ongoing battle they were up against. Doctors need breaks too, he was just often too stubborn to recognize that.

He wonders if she knows where he is—if Naveen’s shared the news by now. If she’s thinking of him like he is thinking of her. Whether she hates him now for not saying goodbye.

This is the exact reason why he protested his colleagues’ advice; he’s become his own worst enemy. Any time he’s alone with his thoughts, there’s only one name, one face, and one voice that invades his mind.

No amount of distraction, time, or distance can erase the memories of her, and it’s a realization that scares him to death. He’s fallen—he’s fallen deep, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get out. He had to be honest with himself; the main reason he left had to do with her.

The loud groan that escapes him is the only sound in the room, and beyond, it seems. It’s been a quiet night for the most part. The droplets of water continue falling down his face, his now-dampened shirt, and onto the floor. He catches his reflection again; it’s a depressing sight. How pathetic has he become? His resolve comes back at once.

Of course he’ll get out of it. He won’t let anything—especially anyone—affect his psyche. Any intimate feelings are just neurochemical responses to heightened stress and frequent exposure to each other. It’s what he’s always told himself. It makes perfect sense.

Everything he’s been through with Luz, and how she got involved with Naveen’s case is further evidence that supports his theory. It’s no surprise they grew close. She was there during his worst...and never gave up on him. It’s not something he’s used to...she saw him for who he was...she got to know parts of him he never dared show anyone...and she accepted him...

He suddenly, and forcefully, grabs the towel beside him to dry himself and the small puddle that has formed by his feet. His knees ache as he bends down, but he ignores the pain. After shutting the bathroom light off, he sits on the edge of the bed again. The night is silent and still, it’s an atmosphere so foreign to him now. It’s been anything but silent from the moment he arrived in the Amazon and got ready to work.

The pen from the patient file he’d been working on lays next to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Another thought soon rushes its way into his head again, and without thinking twice, he grabs it and opens the drawer for the notebook inside.

He opens the notebook to an empty page. He slips his glasses on and fiddles with the pen, almost building up the courage for what he’s about to write. She’s waiting to hear from you...give her an explanation.

He shakes the uncertainty away and begins writing.

‘Dear Luz,

I know what you’re thinking. Why now? Why this way? What a coward. Even if you don’t think so, it’s the only word that adequately sums up how I’ve been feeling since I left. Nothing I say will ever be enough to eradicate the hurt I know I’ve caused you. And I will never forgive myself for that. I couldn’t face you. I’m used to running, but you know me well enough by now that you’ve probably already figured that out.

Without you, I don’t know where Naveen would be. Or where I would be. You were, no, you are nothing short of incredible. Naveen’s revitalized health is proof of the amazing doctor that you are. And that brings me to my next point.

I don’t regret what we had. I care about you, please don’t believe otherwise. Which is why we both know this can’t continue. We can’t let anything hinder your full potential. Your career is too important. You matter too much. I won’t be the burden that gets in the way of that. We need to restart. Perhaps I’m going about this the wrong way, but I just couldn’t say goodbye.

You deserve all the happiness in the world. I’m sorry that can’t be with me. I hope you understand. I never thought I’d meet someone like you, but I don’t deserve you. Someone who won’t run will be worthy of you. Thank you for all you’ve done, I won’t ever forget it. Continue being the amazing woman that you are. Thank you for the time we had. I’ll cherish it.’

His hand halts, and he rubs his stinging eyes. The words on the paper appear blurry, his eyes refusing to allow them to come into focus. He adjusts his glasses on again, and the first word his gaze lands on is ‘coward’. He lets out a humorless laugh. ‘Damn right I am’, he thinks to himself.

The word embodies him further as he suddenly tears the page out of the notebook and rips it in half, before haphazardly tossing the crumpled paper across the room.

‘And that’s all I’ll ever be.’

•

Nearly 5,000 miles away, Luz sits in the once-familiar living room. She turns to the smiling face beside her, taking in the smile she’s missed so much. It’s been a long time since she’s seen him. Too long, and she feels so much contentment being near him. Her heart is full; there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

This is what she needed. To move past everything she’s been through this past month. And to do that, there was no better place than California. The place she used to call home. And to surround herself with the people whom she’s missed beyond belief since moving to Boston.

He puts his arm around her just before the camera flashes. Their smiles are wide and sincere. It’s a perfect moment to capture the happy Beltrán reunion.

"Okay, ahora it’s our turn!" Elena Beltrán chirps before rushing over to sit in between her two kids. "Ven, mi amor. Siéntate con nosotros. (Come here, my love, and sit with us) We need a picture. All four of us," she calls out to her husband, Jorge.

He places the phone on the fireplace mantel and comes to sit on the couch for another impromptu picture. He sits next to his youngest, who’s come home for the weekend from Boston just to see them. He and his wife couldn’t contain their joy that she’d be visiting just before their son, Sebastián, was to move to Oregon. It meant they’d all be together—a rare occurrence since Luz moved to the East Coast.

The camera flashes again. Luz’s cheeks feel like they’re about ready to burst from the permanent smile that’s been planted on her face since the moment she rushed into her family’s arms.

They’re just glad to see her content. From what they understood, she had been going through some things in her personal life that she needed to get away from for a while. She was open with them regarding her involvement with her colleague and boss Ethan Ramsey. They were aware that they’d grown close while working on a case together.

For years, he was someone she admired. So much so, that his research was the reason she applied to medical school. Ethan had made an important impact on her life. She never divulged just how close they’d grown, but if he was the reason she needed to get away from Boston, they knew it had probably become a close relationship. They never judged her for it. She was a smart woman. But sometimes you can’t help what your heart feels.

"Now, you two kids prepare for a feast. Mami and I will be in the kitchen, you two just make yourselves comfortable," Jorge says as he and Elena make their way to the kitchen.

Luz makes to stand. "Dad, no way. I’m helping—"

"Mija, sit down. We got this. You just got home from a long flight. I won’t take no for an answer," he says sternly, but with a warm expression on his face.

She slumps down on the couch, watching her dad gesturing for her and Sebastián to stay put. She can’t help but smile at his insistence to take care of them. It’s always been this way when she and her brother are home.

Sebastián turns to her, grinning from ear to ear. "It’s good to see you, sis. I didn’t think we’d see you till December."

"I didn’t either. But, really, I’m just here to annoy you," she jokes, though the smile doesn’t fully reach her eyes. Bash knows his little sister is trying to distract herself from whatever went down between her and that Ramsey guy. He can’t help but feel some resentment toward him for breaking her heart.

"Want me to kick his ass?"

"No, Bash. I’m better, I promise. I just needed a little break." She sighs, though she quickly covers it and stands on her feet. "Come on, let’s sneak up on mami and papi!"

Sebastián watches her tiptoe her way toward the kitchen and lift a finger to her lips to keep him quiet. He huffs out a laugh and decides to follow her. This quickly takes them back to the time they would sneak around every Christmas night to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus.

Jorge and Elena are too preoccupied getting the champurrado just right to notice their two kids crouched down behind the island.

"I see you," Jorge calls out with a soft laugh and a shake of his head.

"Dammit," Luz mumbles.

"Not as stealthy as once before, sis." Sebastián chortles, and they spring up from behind their hiding place.

"Anyway, I thought I told you kids to stay away," Jorge reminds them.

"Well, I’m helping anyway. Bash can laze about, but I’m helping, whether you like it or not." Luz remains adamant and takes the spoon from her mom to begin stirring the champurrado.

"Mom, dad, why don’t Luz and I take over. You two go sit down this time—"

"Yeah, go make-out or something. We got this." Her lips curve into a beaming smile

Sebastián grimaces in disgust, and Elena and Jorge laugh to themselves before stepping aside to allow them space. He begins shooing them away. "Go, go. We won’t poison you, we promise. Or at least I won’t. Can’t say the same about Luz."

"Hey!" she retorts with a frown before playfully giving him a shove.

"We trust you kids," Elena says as they make their retreat. And with a tender smile, she stares back at the comforting scene of her two kids together under the same roof, bickering like old times.

"And don’t you forget it! Come on, Bash, help me with the lemon bars while I continue stirring this," Luz instructs, and they get to work.

Being in the kitchen she grew up in fills her heart with the joy she’s missed these past few weeks. She’ll open up to her family eventually, all she wants to do right now is focus on the here and now.

It’s true what they always say: there’s no place like home.

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Thanks for reading! Ily💗

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#ethan ramsey #open heart #Ethan x Luz #old fic from deleted blog #ethan ramsey fanfiction