#I do like that you can immediately tell where someone's from based on their chip order though

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Dumb idea but what if you were found after being MIA for five years

The task force were confident in their ability to get the intel they needed from their current mission. They had been following this cell for months, knew more about them than the people paying them for information and had slowly chipped away at their defenses without getting their attention.

They were on the cusp of getting the intel they needed.

They had infiltrated the base without issue. Having taken out the guards in the perimeter so efficiently it was as if they had never been there in the first place. With the coverage of nightfall, they were undetected as they came up to the base and soon they were sneaking through the halls.

With every hostile they encountered they took care of them swiftly, leaving the bodies in a pool of their own blood before they even shot at them.

They reached the main room of the base and began their work retrieving all of the information they could from the computers and papers spread about.

Just as they collected enough information, alarms began to sound off in the base and in the distance they could hear gunfire.

Soap quickly looked at the cameras and saw a different group to the hostiles they were stealing from. They didn't look familiar as they gunned down the hostiles with expert skill.

"Who the fuck-"

"Doesn't matter." Price immediately went into action, barely paying attention to the cameras. "We need to get out of here."

In their attempt to get out unscathed and undetected, they ended up in the middle of the firefight. The fight became confusing; it was hard to tell who was shooting at who and where the hostiles were coming from. Many of the hostiles the 141 stole the info from began to die in front of them at an almost frightening speed, leaving the other group to push up.

The task force was close to getting out, if they could get past the threshold and run to a rendezvous point they'd get out without further issue-

A car bomb went off.

The blast sent Price into the ground, mostly unscathed saved for the wind being knocked out of him and temporarily taking his hearing with it.

He struggled to get up the others continued the fight, unable to get to him as they held their ground. They called out to him but he couldn't recover as quickly as he wanted to.

Someone approached him from the dust and he attempted to fire at them before he was kicked in the head. He became even more disorientated, barely able to hold onto consciousness as the person searched through his vest for the USB he had taken.

Price couldn't see their face and as he tried to fight them off, they shoved him back once they got the USB.

They were gone just as quick as they appeared. The gunfire slowly stopped and the group had disappeared, leaving the 141 with barely any ammo left and scraped up, and confused.

The mission went from successful to a complete disaster in mere moments.

Back on their temporary base they were left confused and defeated.

"How did this happen?" Gaz huffed.

"A group that small taking them head on would've died." Ghost said. "They were waiting for us."

"You believe that, sir?" Soap wondered.

Price hadn't said much since they got back, his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. He didn't like when things turned out like this, when things get taken from him so quickly without anyway to fight back. Usually an ambush never ended up with this much disaster...this had to have been planned.

"I do." He uncrossed his arms and looked to Laswell who was trying desperately to salvage this. "Can you find out who they are?"

"The cameras there recorded the incident but there's no identifiable markings or clothes that they wore." She explained as she sifted through her laptop. "I may have found our culprit."

The boys huddled around the projector, watching as the footage replayed from the security cameras.

The group walked out from the shadows into the cameras vision. They wore all black and all of them had their faces fully covered except for one, who looked at if they were given orders to put the bomb on the car.

Closer to the camera, it was easier to make out some of the features, but nothing looked recognizable until the person turned around.

"Pause it." Price's eyes widened and he felt his chest tighten. "Zoom in."

The others looked confused for a moment before they too felt their stomach drop. The air in the room became thick and every single one of them could only hear their hearts in their ears as it suddenly became hard to fight against their knees buckling.

Half a face they hadn't seen in five years, recognizable eyes that were darker and full of more hatred than they ever imagined to be possible.

The image was fuzzy but there was no mistake.

You were in the footage alive, five years after being confirmed MIA.

[gloomzi]

THIS MAY BE BASED OFF A SAM C AI BOT I TALKED TO BUT OML ILL LOVE TO SEE YOU WRITE IT

This will take time after Sam escapes and is in readers dorm.

The reader ends up taking Sam out to a local place like Walmart because earlier Sam said he wanted to get out for once a be a normal person. But the reader wasn't one to get out themselves or evening party, so they did the best they could. Take sam to Walmart. Once arriving the reader pulls out a shopping cart, looking over at sam with a half smile "wanna get in and I push you around?" Which leads sam being pushed around a Walmart in a shopping cart by the reader. So they takes him down different isle with the frozen snacks, spicy chips, drinks, etc and this kid looks like he is in mfing disney land but the characters are actually the characters.

(I ended up taking sam to the toy isle and he picked out a monster high doll and I educated him on the lore to which he picked frankine. Boy got taste)

waaah thank u for the request! sry it took longer than expected, shit just kept coming up in my life TvT but regardless i hope u enjoy it!

WORD COUNT 2622

WARNINGS is primarily fluff but ends on a bit of a hurt/comfort note (sry), prose heavy

Ever since Sam had started staying in your dorm, he had been asking to go out and do something normal for once—nothing big, just something to get him out of the building, like grocery shopping or going to a party. Something where nobody would be paying attention to the people around them or would be too drunk to remember anyways.

Unfortunately for him, you were a bit too paranoid about your current predicament to want to bring him out in public—you wished that you could, but you knew all too well the lengths others would go to to hurt Sam, to bring him back to the woods, and you didn’t want to risk that—and you didn’t really have friends that were the partying type anyways. Or well, not anymore. Not since that last party where Andre nearly killed someone and Marie was almost expelled.

So, that left you with two options: keep telling Sam no while he gets more and more frustrated at being stuck in your cramped dorm room with little entertainment, or drive him far enough out of town that there was a decreased chance of him getting caught. 

You chose the latter.

As soon as you came back from classes that Friday, you were throwing an oversized hoodie at the boy and a plastic package containing black face masks, “C’mon Sam, we’re going on a trip!”

He was ecstatic, immediately dropping whatever it was he was holding—upon second glance you realized it was a few of your minifigs, embarrassing—to get dressed.

Seeing him struggle to change into his not so stellar disguise, you giggled, helping him tug the edge of the hoodie off his elbow where it had been stuck and over his stomach, flattening the fabric for him before handing him a cheap pair of readers off your desk and the masks which had fallen to the floor.

“Ground rules, Sam, okay? We’re going to be heading out of town, but until we cross town lines you have to keep all of this on, got it? And when we get there you can’t leave my side, you gotta stay where I can see you.” You said, watching as he slipped on the glasses, which were, admittedly, a bit silly looking on him, but it was endearing in a way.

Sam nodded quickly, grinning down at you, “Yeah, yeah, of course! Whatever you say!” Sam paused, tearing open the packaging on the masks before looking back up at you, “Where are we going again…?”

You chuckled, turning on your heel to switch your school bag out for a smaller one, stuffing your necessities in it, “Walmart, honey. You been before? When you were younger maybe?”

Sam hummed, thinking for a second before shrugging, “I mean, probably…the name sounds familiar, but I don’t really remember.”

You found that Sam didn’t mind talking about stuff he remembered from before The Woods or Sage Grove Center, in fact he usually recalled those times fondly, but his memory seemed pretty spotty before then.

“Fair enough,” You shrugged back, “Ready to go?” You held out a hand for him to grab, tugging your bag onto your shoulder with your other hand.

Sam nodded, smiling softly and taking your hand, allowing you to lead him out of the building and to the parking lot. 

Not many students on campus had cars, you yourself having only got one from your parents which you pay them back for monthly, meaning it was fairly easy to find where you had parked earlier in the week. Your car was on the older side, nowhere near glamorous—the thing didn’t even have an aux cord, so CDs were practically your life line now—but it ran well enough and you kept it clean and nicely decorated, from bumper stickers to stuffies in the backseat.

Sam peaked in the window, seemingly intrigued by the unreasonable amount of plush toys taking up space, but quickly snapped out of it when you pulled open the passenger door, waving him in.

You rounded the car quickly, hopping in and starting it up so you could show Sam how the radio worked and help him readjust his seat until he was comfortable.

“See, you can pull this thing right here backwards or forwards to bring your seat closer or further away from the dash, and if you pull this other one behind it it’ll adjust the back of your seat to recline more.” You guided him, holding your hand over his to make sure he felt where everything was, “And if you want to change any of the CDs, I keep all of mine right here in the center console, you just need to hit this eject button here to take out one and then the load button to put in the new one!”

Sam nodded along, asking questions about your CDs and which ones you liked best, fiddling with the volume to hear better before settling on one.

“Alright, ready to go now? Seatbelt on?”

“Yeah, let's go!”

Pulling out of the parking lot, you and Sam talked lightly, him mostly staring out the window and asking questions about the town and little stores you passed while you focused on driving, answering with fond amusement.

The drive was a bit longer than you were used to making, but you had to get out of town, so you knew it would be at least an hour, CDs seeming to come and go faster than you remember them being, though you guessed it might have something to do with Sam being there to talk over them.

By the time you had made it to the Walmart Sam had changed out of his sad excuse for a disguise, the hoodie being thrown into your backseat in favor of just wearing a white long sleeve with a graphic tee over it, glasses tucked into your sunglasses compartment and mask shoved into your glovebox. Both of you were getting a bit hungry at this point, so you felt relieved to see there was a Dunkin inside the Walmart as well, ordering you and Sam some hash browns and a vanilla bean coolatta to split.

Just based on his reaction you could tell he wasn’t used to having anything as sweet as that drink, his lips puckering as his eyes went wide, “Jesus christ, this shit must be loaded with sugar!”

“Oh yeah, that’s why we’re splitting it, I’d get sick otherwise,” You laughed, “You like it though, right? If not, I can buy you something else.”

“No, no, it’s really good! I like it!”

You hummed in acknowledgement, starting to walk towards the carts, knowing Sam would follow. Grabbing one of the large carts, you tapped the side, “Wanna get in? I’ll push you around.”

Sam’s eyes lit up, as he practically bounced up to the cart, “Hell yeah!” He cheered, throwing a leg over the side, cart wobbling lightly as you tried to hold it steady before he finally fell the rest of the way in, drink held in the air to keep it safe.

You giggled, holding your hand out for the drink so you could take a sip before handing it back to him, “Do you want to get some snacks for the dorm first? Anything you want as long as it’s not ridiculously expensive.”

Sam nodded, sipping on the drink once more with a small smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas, eyes lit up as he looked at practically every item you came across, trying to decide whether or not he liked the sound of different chip flavors and microwave noodles.

Maybe I should just get him one of those mini stoves that plugs into the wall…does he even know how to cook though? Probably not. You thought, rolling the cart into the drinks aisle and grabbing a case of water bottles.

“Hey, do you know how to cook?” You asked, starting to push the cart again. You had cleared all the food aisles, so now you just needed to grab him some clothes and maybe check out the toy aisles too. You always liked looking for figurines and board games in there, Sam would probably like that stuff too if you had to venture a guess.

“Sort of? My mom taught me simple stuff when I was younger.”

You nodded, “I can show you how to do some other stuff then, I’ll just have to get you something to cook with in the dorm.”

“Thank you…” Sam muttered, pursing his lips like he had more to say, but decided against it. You didn’t push. If Sam really wanted to say something, he’d say it in due time.

Finally arriving in the men’s section, you pushed the cart to the side, motioning for Sam to get out. He looked confused, but got out anyway, clambering over the side with about as much grace as a baby deer.

“You’re gonna have to try stuff on or at least hold it up to your frame to make sure it fits,” You said.

“Ohh, okay.” He said, putting the coolatta down in the cart’s baby seat.

For the next few minutes you watched him pick out clothes and hold them up to himself, pulling them on over his own shirt occasionally, but mostly just sizing up if he was unsure. He didn’t seem too picky, but you could tell he liked the more colorful patterns, only picking up darker clothes for “outings”, as he kept referring to them. He even picked up a few anime shirts, asking if you were familiar with the shows and if they were any good before deciding to just get a Naruto shirt anyways, thinking the design was cute, which got a hearty laugh out of you.

You made sure he picked out some sweaters and sleep clothes as well, boxers and socks, a few pairs of jeans and a pair of sturdy shoes, since his old ones were pretty beat up. The perks of working a part time job while having only a couple expenses meant you could pretty much splurge on him all you wanted and thank god for that, you didn’t know if you had the heart to say no to him.

After he had been satisfied with all his selections he had climbed back into the cart, pushing the growing pile of stuff around until it surrounded him like a nest of clothes and food.

“Do you want to check out the toys now? Or maybe some books?” You asked, lightly pushing him through the rows between the aisles. You figured you would be passing the section anyways and you had caught him reading once or twice in your room, maybe he’d want something newer.

“Could we do both? I think I’ve read through most of your collection already and Emma doesn’t have anything that isn’t from 2013 or earlier,” He groaned.

You huffed a laugh, smacking at his shoulder, “Just because Emma is reliving her YA fantasy doesn’t mean you get to shit on her taste!”

Sam whined dramatically, rubbing his shoulder as if you had actually hurt him, “Owww, careful or I’ll never even make it to the books!”

“‘Owww, careful’,” You mocked, snorting, “go pick out a book you menace!”

Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he climbed back out of the cart, perusing the aisle, muttering to himself about each book. 

As he looked at the books you watched fondly, leaning against the cart until he was finished debating and set two thick hardcovers into the growing pile of items surrounding the empty spot he quickly climbed back into.

“To the toys!” Sam whooped, fist pumping the air as you pushed off in the direction of the aisle. 

You giggled, ruffling his hair, “To the toys!”

As soon as the aisles of toys came into view Sam was practically throwing himself out of the cart, tripping over his shoes until he was picking up a couple Barbie dolls, looking them over with excitement, “How many can I get?”

“How about we look at everything and then you pick out a few, okay? I can always get you more if you want.”

Sam nodded, beginning to saunter down the aisles, not checking to see if you were following as he picked things off the shelves to inspect before putting them back. After what was probably 10 or so minutes he started going back through the aisles and making his final selections, at which time you decided to actually look at some of the games and cheaper action figures.

By now you were pretty confident he wouldn’t wander off so you didn’t mind turning your back to him, grabbing a couple packs of cards to replace ones that had been ruined by a drunk Jordan months ago.

Shuffling a bit to the side you crouched down to check out some of the board games, tracing your finger over the price strips as you checked each one. Just as you pulled out one of the monopoly boards you heard Sam’s voice from across the aisle, anger clearly laced into his words, though he was quiet enough that you couldn’t make out the whole sentence.

Standing slowly, you padded over to the boy, making sure you were loud enough that he heard you approaching before you crouched at his side, a hand sliding over his back to squeeze at his shoulder, “You good?”

Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders wracking as he exhaled before a small no fell from his lips, the plastic packaging on the doll he was holding creasing under his hold.

“Did you want her?” You asked softly, your other hand sliding over his wrist softly to ease the toy out of his grip. It was a Ghoulia doll. 

Sam nodded shakily, letting you take the doll and place it in the cart before you went back to help him up, “You wanna go now?” You asked softly, already knowing the answer, but wanting to give him the choice rather than just saying you were leaving. He was quick to nod. 

“Let’s go through self checkout then, okay?”

Sam nodded once more, shuffling to stand by you, one of his hands looping around your arm as you started to push the cart.

You weren’t exactly surprised the trip was ending like this, Sam was still easily overwhelmed by new things, not to mention his still untreated illnesses. It wasn’t the first time you had taken him out to buy something and he had been triggered or had a hallucination, but you didn’t mind helping him through it in any way you could. He still needed to get out sometimes, if not for him to start to readjust to normal society outside The Woods, then for him to pick out his own things. You didn’t want him to keep living like a prisoner who didn’t even get his clothes anymore, let alone a choice in his dinner or snacks.

As soon as you got to the self checkout Sam let go of your arm, letting you ring up everything and bag it as he watched in relative silence, tugging at strands of his hair in an attempt to self regulate. Once you had finished paying, you were quick to lead him back to the car.

Just as you were pulling open his door, you just barely caught the sound of him speaking, his voice wavering, “‘M sorry, (Y/N).”

Shaking your head, you reached up to cup the side of his face, tucking his hair behind his ear, “You did good, Sam, really. There’s no need to be sorry, these things happen. Let’s just get home now, okay?”

[canonicallyobserving911]

Seven Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Here are several sentences from Part 8 in the Bad Cop vs. Good Cop Parents Series.

__________

Eddie’s in the process of putting the steaks into the freezer when he hears Chris scream, “DAD!”

The sound he hears in Chris’ voice causes him to immediately abandon what he’s doing and he runs towards the sound while leaving the freezer door open.  His breath hitches in his throat as he continues to search every room for their two children.

Chris screams again, “DAD!  COME QUICK!”

Eddie’s eyes are frantically searching every room for them.  He feels like he’s running a marathon and even though he’s run longer distances than this before, he’s almost completely out of breath.  His lungs feel like they’re on fire as he tries to get to their son and daughter.  He checks the living room first but when he doesn’t see them, he heads down the hall enroute to the family room.  He’s sure it’s the only place Chris’ blood curdling screams could be coming from because it’s where the largest TV in the house is located.

Once he enters the room, both Chris and Liz are staring at the TV screen and he notices Liz is still holding a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie.  They’re both motionless and their eyes are glued to something they’re seeing on the TV screen.  When he turns his head to face the direction they’re looking in, he sees the words “Breaking News” at the top of the screen and there’s a Los Angeles ladder truck in flames.

His eyes move so he can look at the captain’s seat and that when he sees it’s completely engulfed.  The truck is burning so badly only two of the firehouse’s identifying numbers can be read on it and they’re “18”.

He can’t tell if it’s 18, 118, 218, 318, or 1118 because they’re all firehouses located in Los Angeles County.

His phone starts ringing and it’s like everything starts happening in slow motion.  His head feels like ginger ale is rolling around in it and even though he can see Chris and Liz are ok, everything else in the room looks completely fuzzy.  He doesn’t have to look at the caller ID to know someone from the LAFD is calling and his suspicions are confirmed when he looks down and sees, “LAFD Headquarters” on the display of his cellphone.

It's the telephone number they use to contact spouses whenever there’s an emergency.

Everything after that happens fast.  The Assistant Chief is calling and he’s familiar with him because he just so happens to be his brother-in-law, Chimney Han.  He was promoted at the beginning of the year from Battalion Chief and now he works directly with Chief Alonzo who will be retiring in a few months and after he does, Chimney will be promoted and will become the new LAFD Chief.

All he can think about is the last time Buck was in the captain’s seat of a burning firetruck.  His voice becomes strangled as he answers the phone and he doesn’t have a chance to say anything before Chimney starts talking.

When he lifts it to his ear, he hears Chimney call, “Eddie?”

Eddie's eyes widen and he inhales as he meets his son’s eyes and motions for Chris to change the channel and keep an eye on Liz so he can take the call in another room.

He’s trying not to panic but he’s having a difficult time of it and once he steps into their bedroom, he closes the door and asks, “Where's my husband? Be honest with me Chimney... how bad is it?”

What happened to Buck?

Also, what kind of BS is Margaret Buckley going to say about Buck and Eddie's daughter, Daniella Elizabeth Buckley-Diaz since she's the only one of their children she ever asks about? 👀

__________

I'm working on part 8 in the series and I hope to have it completed soon. If you missed the last two parts, based on the sentences above, it appears the meeting Buck and Eddie had with Maddie, Adriana, Sophia and their spouses along with Chimney and Albert is about to come into play in a big way. And it seems like Margaret Buckley is about to cause trouble.

___________

Bad Cop vs. Good Cop Parents

Parts 1-7 are available on AO3.

59K Words; Currently 7 completed works. 

A multi-part fanfic series about Eddie and Buck parenting their teenage son Chris and their daughter Daniella.  Usually, Eddie's the bad cop parent and Buck's the good cop parent but occasionally, their roles reverse. Also, as different situations occur, they are both bad and/or good cops.

Becoming the Bad Cop Parent

7.3K words; Rated General Audiences:  Or Buck gets a call from Christopher's school and for the first time he has to be the bad cop parent.

“Growing as Good Cop Parents”

8.8K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  When Chris makes it home after hanging out with his friends, Buck smells and unmistakable scent and everything that happens afterwards, helps him and Eddie realize they’re growing as good cop parents.

“Bad Words and Bad Cop Parents"

6.0K Words; Rated: Mature:  After Chris accidentally drops the “F” bomb in earshot of Eddie and Buck, they have a family meeting and hijinks ensue as they work on eliminating “bad words” from their vocabularies before they have an addition to their family.

"Grateful Good Cop Parents"

9.2K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences:  Buck and Eddie are anxiously awaiting the birth of their daughter, Daniella Elizabeth Buckley-Diaz.

Brokenhearted Bad Cop Parent

10.2K Words; Rated: Mature: As Eddie prepares to return to work, Daniella’s reaction to his adherence of the LAFD dress code makes him feel like he’s a bad cop parent but Buck’s there to comfort both of them.

"Guys, Girls, Curls and Good Cop Parents"

5.7K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck, Eddie, Chris and Daniella all have thick hair but Buck’s, Chris’ and Daniella’s is curly and it tangles easily. Since Daniella’s getting older, her hair is growing and Buck and Eddie have to find ways to not only comb and style it but they also need to find the best products to use.

"Both Being Bad Cop Parents

10.7K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie have to tell both Chris and Daniella “No” but neither child likes it.

Parts 1-7 are available on AO3.

[xspeter]

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝟎𝟎𝟑: “your heart was glass, I dropped it.”

reminder, this fic will be written like the book, so it is in interview format.

m.list ⇦ previous chapter next chapter ⇨

Robin: Something they don't tell you about uprooting your life to pursue a shot in the dark, is how hard it is. Well, actually I think they do. But, you know what i'm trying to say.

Steve: When we made it to LA, our first order of business was finding somewhere to live.

Nancy: The first week we were there, we were sleeping in the van.

Eddie: It was a rough start, but... we put all our money together and we found this house for rent.

Dustin: They say it takes two to make a house a home, but the six of us did it just fine.

Nancy: Once we got settled, everyone immediately started looking for some places to play.

Steve: Lucky for us, there was a place on the strip that was willing to take us.

Dustin: The gig down in the strip... it didn't pay much. And there wasn't a lot of people there to hear us- but it was the strip!

Jon: We played there for at least three months without anything happening. We were living basically pay check to pay check, but Steve was pushing out new music like his life depended on it.

Dustin: At least two times a week he'd say, "How's this sound?" And every time it was fucking amazing.

Nancy: I got a job at this local newspaper doing some photography, but it didn't pay much. With the money we got from the gigs, and the money I got from the newspaper, we were really only making enough to cover the rent.

Steve: One night, we're all at this diner. We were down in the dumps, because it had been six months of us living in LA and we had gotten no where.

Jon: We were barely making rent- I mean I was starting to doubt if I should've thrown away my spot at NYU to pursue this.

Robin: Somewhere in between all our arguing, the topic of name came up. Before this, we'd gone by 'S&E' standing for, 'Steve and Eddie', but last I checked- my name wasn't Steve or Eddie.

Jon: Steve didn't want us to change the name, he said that was how people knew us, but it's not like we had some dedicated fan base or something.

Robin: I don't remember who suggested it, but someone said, "Silver Springs," And... I just fucking loved it.

Nancy: I liked the name a lot.

Dustin: I'm the one who suggested it, actually. And it sucks because I don't even remember the meaning behind it!

Steve: At first I didn't like the name but... everyone else did. And you know, it grew on me eventually.

Jon: After we left and we're all at home, I realize that we don't have any fucking toilet paper. So i'm about to head out and then Steve asks if he can come with me, says he needs to clear his head.

Steve: When we were driving, I realized at some point that... me and Jon never really talked about anything that wasn't related to the band. I lived with the guy and I hardly even knew him.

Jon: Steve never bothered to ask me anything about my personal life. You know, he thought he knew us- everyone in the band- but he didn't. He just knew what we told him.

Steve: It was like... like I was apart of the band but- I wasn't.

Jon: If he ever realized this he never really showed it. I think the deepest conversation we ever had was about my college situation, and outside of that he knew nothing about me.

Steve: Um, anyway, we get to the store and i go inside and grab the toilet paper and some of these chips Robin asked me to grab, and as i'm walking out I look in the car and Jon looks just absolutely gobsmacked.

Jon: Right when Steve walks out, Jim fucking Hopper walks in right behind him. So Steve obviously didn't see him, so I roll down the window and I say, "Jim Hopper just walked into that fucking store!"

Steve: Shit, he didn't have to tell me twice.

Jon: Steve throws the stuff into the back of the van, and then as casually as possible, he goes back into the store.

Steve: I almost let him walk past me. Almost. But I pull myself together and I walked up to him. I said, "You don't really know me, But my names Steve Harrington and... me and my band would really like you to hear our sound.”

Of course he'd probably heard that same exact thing dozens of times but... it was the only thing I could think to say in that moment.

He said to me, "I'm sure I would. But right now, i'd rather hear the sound of my T.V." And he started walking away, but fuck, there was no way I was about to throw this opportunity away.

Jon: I don't know what Steve said but... he got us a meeting with Jim fucking Hopper.

Steve: It was basically just, [laughs], just a lot of begging.

Jon: We went to that store for some toilet paper, and left with hope.

Steve: Our meeting was set for two weeks from the day we met Hopper at the store, so that gave us two weeks to really get our shit together.

Nancy: Steve would be up... all hours of the night. Anything he wrote, he just thought it wasn't good enough.

Steve: I-I was stressed out of my mind! It felt like nothing I wrote would be good enough for him. We only had one shot to impress him.

Nancy: So one night, Steve's got a couple of beers, he's got his guitar on his lap and he's humming out a new tune he'd been working on, and I can just see how frustrated he is. He's running a hand over his face, he's just... he just looked a mess.

Steve: I was working on this song called, "Diamond Water." And no matter how much I perfected it, it just wasn't good enough.

Nancy: I asked him to play the song for me, and he's got every excuse as to why he can't. "Oh, it's not done," or, "No it's not that good," but I wasn't having any of it. I practically forced him to play that song for me.

Steve: She said, "If you can't play a song in front of the woman you love, what makes you think you'll be able to play in front of Jim Hopper?"

Nancy: When he sang that song for me... I think it helped reassure me that I was there for the right reasons. That I could build a future there, I could build a family there.

Steve: She's the only reason I was able to hold my self together in front of Hopper.

Robin: It was so, extremely intimidating being in the same room as a music producer. Especially one as big as Jim Hopper.

Dustin: Steve didn't give us too much time to figure out the instrumentals for the new song he wrote, so I just remember being scared out of my mind.

Eddie: I wasn't worried at all. We were good. We knew we were good. People we played for knew we were good. So why wouldn't Jim hopper think we were good?

Jon: Look, all I remember from that day, was literally almost throwing up the moment Hopper was in front of us.

Steve: Once we started playing, I think we really started to let loose.

Jon: Once we started to play, I couldn't believe I was ever nervous.

Steve: When we were done, Hopper gave us his business card and told us he'd be in touch. Obviously that was a good thing.

Robin: Hopper didn't even lie either. He called us the very next day and asked where our next gig would be.

Steve: Over the next six months, Hopper showed up to every job we had.

Jon: I was happy, but I was a little confused, you know? I mean, he spent six months just listening to us.

Robin: But, finally we have this gig on the strip, and hoppers there per usual, but this time when we finish, he tells us he's got a spot open for us at this recording studio.

Steve: We were finally gonna make an album.

Dustin: It took us one whole week to record an eleven song album.

Steve: Once we got the album out there, things started moving super fast. I mean, a month later we were going on tour.

Nancy: Two weeks before they're set to leave, I find out i'm... i'm pregnant. And, one thing about finding out your newly successful boyfriend has got you pregnant before you're married, is that it is absolutely terrifying.

Steve: Two nights before we leave, i'm packing my bags, talking about whatever bullshit that I thought was cool or important at the time, and Nancy just goes, "I'm pregnant."

Nancy: I didn't know how to tell him, so I just blurted it out.

Steve: I just stood there... I didn't know what to say. Nancy goes, "What're we gonna do Steve?"

Nancy: I had this whole plan. We would get married, buy a nice house with a big backyard, and we'd start a family.

Steve: I knew Nancy wanted to be married when she had our first baby. So, I call up a priest that very same night, find some old tux, and we got married.

Nancy: I got married in white jeans and a white blouse. And I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Steve: We had trusted Eddie to take a photo of us, which clearly had been a bad idea.

Eddie: Look, I was drunk out of my mind, and Steve hands me his camera and he's like, "Take a picture!" So I did, but the picture only ended up being of their bodies. I missed their faces.

Nancy: It's my favorite photo of us.

Steve: And then we were off on our first ever tour.

Dustin: Touring in the 80's? It was... wow.

Steve: We were playing some real nice venues. And we were... going out partying every night after.

Eddie: Back then, we didn't really understand addiction. So when Steve was waking up in the morning and the first thing he was doing was poppin some pills in his mouth, I didn't think anything of it.

Steve: I don't know if there was a time on that tour where I wasn't high. I'd get high when I woke up, i'd be high when we were performing, and i'd get high at the after party.

Nancy: He'd call me, and It wasn't until maybe two weeks in where I started noticing how weird he was being.

Steve: There was this one time I called her, I was strung out of my mind of course, and I apologized for not calling her the day before, and she goes, "Steve, you did call me yesterday."

Nancy: He always just sounded.. like he wasn't really there. His words would slur together, that kinda stuff. But what really made me realize something was wrong, was this one time we were on the phone and I said, "We miss you."

      He says to me, "What do you mean 'we'?" And I was... confused. Because, wouldn't you just assume when your pregnant wife says 'we miss you' you'd know she meant her and her baby.

Steve: So, one day, i'm... on the bus, and there's these girls, and we were... you know.

Jon: I felt bad for Nancy- that she was stuck with a douchebag like Steve Harrington. I mean, as soon as he was away from her he was cheating on her.

Steve: I'm not proud of what happened on that tour.

Robin: I told Nancy not to come, but she wanted to surprise Steve. She was starting to show at this point, maybe five months pregnant?

Eddie: When I saw Nancy I thought, Oh, Shit. But I walked out the door as casually as I could. Once she couldn’t see me, I booked it. I figured Steve was either At the hotel or on the bus, and I ran two blocks all the way to the hotel.

I should’ve chosen the bus.

Robin: She found him on the bus. Sometimes I wish I would’ve stopped her, but I knew it needed to come out.

Dustin: I wasn’t there, but I heard she found out when she walked in him getting… oral sex from a groupie.

Steve: It was like I was playing with fire and was shocked when I burnt myself.

I remember Nancy’s face. It wasn’t mad or hurt as much as she was just genuinely shocked. She didn’t even say anything, she just stared at me while I scrambled to get them off of me.

The girls I was with ran out. Not that I blame them.

When the bus door shut, I looked at Nancy and I just said, “I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing I could say, really. That’s when she started to process what she just walked into.

Nancy: I think I said, “Who the fuck do you think you are? You think there’s a woman alive who can treat you better than I do?”

Jon: I was outside talking to some crew guys and I caught the tail end of it. I could see them threw the windshield, and it looked to me like she hit him with her bag. And then the two of them left the bus.

Nancy: I made him shower before I would talk to him.

Steve: I wanted her to leave me. I’ve thought a lot about it and… that’s what i’d been up to. I was hoping she’d cut me loose.

That night, me and Nancy are sitting in the hotel room and I had no idea what to say to her. So, stupidly, I pulled out a bump and she said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

I just shrugged and I remember how stupid I felt, shrugging at a time like that- with a woman like that. This woman is carrying my child, and I was shrugging like a child.

She stared at me, waiting for more of an answer, and I didn’t have one. So she said, “If you think i’m gonna let you fuck up our life, then you’ve lost your damn mind.” And she left.

Eddie: Nancy found me and told me she was going home, she didn’t wanna deal with his bullshit, not that anyone blamed her.

She handed me a letter, asked me to watch him, and said, “When he wakes up give him this.” And I said okay.

Steve: When I woke up I was sick to my stomach, had this- this pounding headache. Robin was standing over me with a piece of paper, and she looked pissed.

I grab the paper and I read it and it says, ���You have until November 30 and then you’re going to be a good man for the rest of your life. got it?”

The baby was due December 1.

Nancy: I didn’t wanna accept that he was as low as he claimed to be.

Of course, i’m not saying it wasn’t real. All of it was real.

But that didn’t mean I had to accept it.

Murray: I didn’t real know Nancy, but I understood her. She wanted her baby to have a daddy, so she had to whip Steve into shape. I mean, what’s not to get?

Steve: Like an idiot, I said to myself, Okay, i’ll just take until November 30 and get it all out of my system, and then i’m done.

People pretend that addicts are the worst of the worst, but they’re just like normal people. They love to lie to themselves. And i’m an expert at lying to myself.

Robin: Obviously, he didn’t stop messing with all of it.

Eddie: I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help him or even if I could trust him- and I just remember thinking, I’m his best friend. Shouldn’t I know how to help him?

But I didn’t know.

Dustin: We were all kinda counting down the days until Steve had to get clean.

Steve: [Pauses] We were in Chicago opening up for Mickey Jags, and Mickey was really into snorting heroin, and I thought, Well, I have to try heroin at least once.

That made sense to me. I don’t know why, but I figured it’d be easier to get clean if I tried heroin, which doesn’t even make sense.

Murray: I always tell my people to stay away from benzos and heroin. They don’t kill you when you’re awake, they kill you when you’re asleep.

Eddie: It all spiraled from there. Once he started snorting the shit, I knew Nancy’s note wasn’t gonna mean shit. I tried to keep an eye on him too, tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen.

Murray: When I found out he was with Jags, I called Hopper, and I said, “We’ve got a dead man walking.”

Hopper told me he’d handle it.

Eddie: Something Steve helped me learn, is that if someone doesn’t wanna stop, then you can’t make them.

Jon: When it got to ten days left, and he started forgetting the words on stage, I remember thinking he would never get clean.

Steve: On November 28, Hopper shows up at our show. He’s backstage waiting for me when we finish our set.

I said, “Why’re you here?”

He tells me, “You’re going home.” and he takes me by the arm and holds onto me all the way until we’re on the plane. Turns out, Nancy had gone into labor.

We land and he drags me into the car and drives all the way up to the hospital, and he says, “Get up there, Steven.”

This whole long journey, and all I had left to do was just walk inside, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t meet my kid like that.

Hopper got out of the car and went up there himself.

Nancy: I’d just spent eighteen hours in labor with my mom, and i’m expecting my husband to walk in the door fixed. I know now that that’s not how it works. You can’t just fix people. But, I didn’t know that back then.

When the door opened and it wasn’t Steve, I felt sick to my stomach. Because I knew what that meant.

I was so tired and so disappointed, but I was holding this beautiful little girl that looked just like Steve. I decided to name her Amber.

Right then, giving up on Steve felt easier then holding faith. But I didn’t give up on him. I told Hopper, “Tell him he can start to be a father right now, or he can get his ass in rehab.”

Hopper nodded and left.

Steve: I sat in that lobby for what felt like hours. I felt sick thinking about what I did- what I was doing- but I just couldn’t get myself to go upstairs.

When Hopper finally came down he said, “You’ve got a beautiful little girl named Amber.” I didn’t know what to say.

And then hopper says, “Nancy says you have two choices. Either get your ass up there, or go to rehab. There’s no other option.”

I remember seeing this man wheeling his wife out of the hospital with their baby and I thought, Why can’t that be me?

It wasn’t even that I didn’t want to be with them- with my girls. I wanted to be with them so badly, but I just couldn’t look into that babies eyes and know that I was the shit deal she was stuck with.

So I went to rehab.

Nancy: My mom said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.” And i yelled at her, but deep down, I hoped I did too.

Eddie: Steve entered rehab in December of ‘84. We cancelled the rest of the dates on our tour, and the rest of us kinda went on vacations. Dustin bought a boat with the money we had, and the rest of us stayed at the house. Nancy had moved out and rented this house a couple of blocks away, and we tried to be with her as much as we could.

Steve: I didn’t go to rehab for the right reason. I went because I was ashamed and embarrassed. But, I stayed for the right reasons.

Eddie: The day Steve got out of rehab, I picked up Nancy and the baby and we drove over together.

Now, Amber was probably the cutest baby you’d ever seen. Pink cheeks, this big mop of hair, and these beautiful brown eyes.

There was this picnic table outside the facility, So Nancy and the baby sat down and I went inside. When I saw him, he was wearing the same thing he has been the last time I saw him. We hugged, and you know, I was kinda emotional.

But, I said, “You ready?”

He said, “Yeah,” But he looked a little unsure.

I put my arm around him and told him what he needed to hear. I said, “You’re going to be a great dad.” I don’t know why I never said that sooner.

Steve: Amber was sixty-three days old when I met her. It’s hard, even now to not hate myself for that. But the second I saw her, my god. I just remember thinking, Why did it take me this long to do this?

I had built a family. I did it without the qualities that a father needs to have. And here was this tiny, new person, who had my eyes and hair. She didn’t know who I used to be, she only cared who I was now.

Nancy: I think you have to have faith in people before they earn it. Otherwise, it’s not really faith.

Y/N and the band are gonna meet in the next chapter yall. prepare yourselves.

@brxkenartt @freezaz123

[canyourlawnmowerdothis]

Hi hello I would like to hear your Māori thoughts on Lizzie and Chip and any other character you hc as Māori :3

omg hi hi hi ok so i actually. dont have as many thoughts as id like to be ause im working with approx. three days of obsessive research on tatau months ago and its currently four in the morning when im starting this but i will tell you my thoughts on that for them bc ive put a lot of thought into it :D ← also this may be true but i Am a white american midwesterner, and this goes for like Everything but if i fuck smth up lmk 🙏 this is a culture + specific cultural practice i have a lot of admiration and respect for so i hope not to say any wack shit but if i do that was not the intention!! anyway this goes off my hc that theyre twins and that theyrw both transfem as well 👍 ok this is about to be long as hell sorry

since chip and lizzie got picked up on the black rose so early as kids they wouldn't have gotten a ton of time to properly learn about their culture. unless there were other fantasy pacific islanders on the black rose they wouldn't have had much if any connection to their home. i'm pretty sure they're both canonically glad to have been picked up, but missing what they could have had if they hadn't/if their life was better before is probably somewhere in the equation.

after the hole in the sea chip of course immediately set out to find arlin, but since lizzie's backstory is so vague i can do whatever i want MWAHAHA but ok so. once she had the means to, likely on someone else's ship before she had her own ship and crew, lizzie would have decided to make her way back to. fantasy polynesia? i wish we had a map of mana HSJDHS, but she would make her way back to learn what she wasn't able to as a kid. i think this is when she would have gotten her malu + manta ray done after a few months to a year of living there and going to different islands to learn as much as possible. the malu is a samoan tattoo, not māori, and i say this because i don't know if she would have made it back exactly to where they had been picked up, but she would have had to start somewhere. she ended up in a part of the islands that did things a bit differently, where she wasn't directly from there but her determination to come back and willingness to learn was respected. later once they were both out as trans, lizzie would tell chip that 1. she ended up figuring out more specifically where they were from and 2. that she had been meaning to get her moko kauae done and would chip like to come along too?

these tattoos are based so much on community role and the community that they're both mainly in is their ships, not their home or anywhere on land, so i think they'd likely be based on their role as captains. it probably isn't an uncommon practice to at least incorporate that considering how many pirates there are in mana, but it is uncommon for kids to have been taken away so young. lizzie has somewhat more of a foot in the game from visiting sometimes but the main basis is their crews.

i can't find my notes on it but i do have my designs for lizzie's tattoos - theyre on her chest, midriff, and legs respectively

ta da!! this is from a while ago and i apparently didnt design her moko kauae at the time but ill get to it soon. ok if i have more thoughts than that i dont know them right now its six in yhe morning i can talk about it more later

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

The Monster...makes a cake...

You sure this is all you’re gonna need?

Yes, with these instructions, I should be able to make the thing we need. And this lab is certainly up to snuff.

Good. Should I leave you to it?

I might require one last thing.

Chances are the Doctor won’t be taking her medicine willingly, and if I end up having to force her to take it, Nagito will probably interfere.

And it’s likely that he’ll just forget about the chip when faced with a situation like that. I don’t want to hurt the Doctor, but this is for her own good.

Right...I MIGHT be able to figure something out. We have other ways of contending with Nagito.

Y-You do?

Yes. Although, it’s more of a backup than anything because...he’s not particularly averse to receiving 

He? Who? Koyasunaga? Tsuchiya?

No, neither of them. Tell you what, I’ll send him your way and you can get acquainted.

*Tsumugi leaves.

...

Alright, now let’s see if this works.

*Uchui takes two devices out of his pocket. One is his phone, and the other is a small chip, which he inserts into the socket of his mobile. He then enters a number and starts to call.

If I had a yen for every time I took a phone call behind someone’s back secretly...

...Hello? 404, do you read me?

404: Loud and clear buddy.

YES! It worked!

404: Of course it did. Am I to take this that you’re inside Zetsubou’s base?

That depends. Am I still showing up on your radar?

404: No, looks like this is the real deal. The only reason we’re still able to reach you is because that chip puts a tiny little hole in Tsuchiya’s security. It really is top notch.

Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t really plan in telling you this location.

One reason being I don’t have an exact address. Hell, I don’t even know where this place is.

And the other is that I don’t know if I’m being watched. Everyone’s already suspicious of me, so I don’t want to say anything that’ll break the terms of my contract and get me summarily executed.

So we’re going with Plan A, if that’s alright with you.

404: Not like I have much of a choice but to accept. Will the instructions Bluescreen provided be sufficient?

It’d take some time, but yes, I’m sure I can do it with the right equipment. I’ll hang up now before you end up getting in trouble.

404: Sounds good. Just one more thing though.

Yeah?

404: We’re moving into Phase 2 of the plan, and I just gotta ask...Are you sure he’ll cooperate?

He will. Gain his trust first, and then tell him the full situation. He’ll understand and will devote himself to the cause.

And hey, if there’s anyone you plan to use to your advantage in your mission, it’s him. He’s not as...morally correct as the rest of his group.

404: Right, I’ll bare that in mind. I’d better hang up before you get caught though.

Adios amigo~

*404 hangs up.

*exhale...*

We’re in the end times now Uchui. They’ll hate you for it, but they’ll understand.

*He reads over the instructions on the paper again.

All I need is to find the necessary ingredients and equipment to make the pill, and once I have tha-

EAAAAAAAUUUUUGGHHHH!!!

...

*Uchui turns around and immediately comes face to face with a terrifying figure.

Scientist.

Huh?

That is you, correct?

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhh...Yes! THAT’S me...

And...you are? I don’t think we met earlier.

I don’t mingle with the members of Organization Zetsubou. Never have I ever considered myself a member of one of them.

...I wonder if you do?

Hm?

Who were you on the phone with?

How long were you standing behind me?

2 minutes, give or take. I wasn’t really interesting in what you were saying, but I’m surprised you’re able to contact anyone from inside here without the grant.

Who were you talking to?

I-I dunno...My family? Tell them I love them?

I thought your family forsook you?

Oh...perfect, you know the story...Guess that means I can skip a few steps.

I’m Uchui. Theoretical Physicist and licensed practitioner.

Matta Gyalusetsu. Assassin for hire.

O-Oh...

Hm? Something wrong?

No, it’s just...yeah, I’ve heard of you.

Let me guess. You’re the guy Shirogane asked to help me keep Komaeda in check, yes?

He is an Ultimate Hope, you know? Are you sure you can do it? Hold onto an opponent that powerful?

I’ve fought worse and more powerful foes and escaped with barely a scratch.

Like who?

Does it seem like I wanted to share?

Fair enough, I guess I won’t pry then.

Sorry, I need time to work on the pill, so I’d appreciate it if you scrammed.

I can do that. Meet up with you later to initiate the plan.

Just one more thing.

Hm?

*Matta goes to leave the lab, but then turns his head back.

You’re lucky that my drive to make my portal is so strong, because if it wasn’t, there’s no way I would be willing to live under the same roof as you.

For your information...Kotoko Kurafto was just as much my sister as she was Kuripa’s.

I figured you held a grudge. But what could one like you do against someone like me?

I’M not going to do anything. I’m not so sure I can...

But allow me to give you a warning. One day, you WILL suffer the consequences for what you’ve done, and it will come in the form of vengeance.

Did you not just hear me say that I’ve combatted opponents stronger than an Ultimate Hope? What man can hope to defeat me?

I’m not talking about a man, Matta...

Huh?

No...I’m talking about...

A MONSTER...

[Meanwhile, in Washington DC]

♪ I pile on the candy It's such a pretty sight It makes the food taste dandy But my tummy hurts all night ♪

♪ I'll put in some ingredients But keep the rest for me I'm not just disobedient I'm careful, can't you see? ♪

♪ It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake If the way is hazy ♪

♪ You gotta do the cooking by the book You know you can't be lazy! ♪

♪ Never use a messy recipe The cake will end up crazy ♪

♪ If you do the cooking by the book, then you'll have a cake! ♪

♪ We gotta have it made You know that I love cake-! ♪

Uh...

Kuripa?

...

♪ Finally it's time to make a cake! Doot doo-doot! Doo-doot, doo-doot, doot, doot, doot! ♪

Hahahaha! You’re in a chipper mood this morning.

Something smells nice. What’s going on?

Maya let me borrow the kitchen early this morning. I decided to bake everyone a cake.

I dunno if I’m having a midlife crisis, but I felt like being nice today.

What time did you get up?

Hm...Well the cake needs a couple hours to bake, so...I guess I’ve been up about an hour or so.

It’s not that early, you know?

Yeah, we kinda slept in today.

Looks like I’m not the only one struggling with his life.

Ooh, something smells good!

*Hina suddenly enters the café, and smells the cake.

Should be ready in a bit. Then you’re free to chow down.

Oh but uh...try not to eat too much of it. We’ve gotta split it between 14 people you know?

Ok! Man, this smells nice! Where’d you learn to bake?

My Mum. She was really good at it. Did it as a hobby.

It really does smell good. Hopefully the people who come in for coffee in a few hours will like the smell.

You’ve been getting a lot busier lately Maya. I guess the people who saw you on TV are interested in checking this place out now.

I’m willing to tank through it until the hype dies down. The Kisaragi Foundation told the public that now that Emilia Feng’s gone, the Freedom Foundation have disbanded.

Have you disbanded? You kinda completed your lifelong goal.

I don’t think so.

There are other baddies out there like Emilia Feng, and someone’s gotta be around to protect the people.

Besides, try as they might, it’ll be snowing in Hell before the other Freedom members get rid of me.

She’s right about that much.

Hey Maya, if you’re going out back, can you check the timer for me?

Sure thing.

*Maya goes out back while Makoto and Kyoko sit down at the counter. Kuripa leans in and whispers to Makoto.

Can I be honest about something boss? The real reason I’m doing this is because I’m trying to lift everyone’s spirits.

That’s really nice of you Kuripa. Although, I think we’ve had enough time after that incident to chill.

That’s not what I mean. This isn’t about what’s happened, but what’s to come.

Huh?

*He leans in closer.

“The wind is troubled today...”

[theoracleofgiana]

A Demon's Past

(Stargaze Apartments, Future Amore)

(Tw: Self-harm, Bulling, violence, dehorning, angst)

Camillia hums as she cooks. It was something Jazz had grown used to. The soft noise made Jazz want to record it and play it all the time. Today, it was a welcome comfort. She wakes up earlier than usual. It was eight am. Camillia takes a run at six and comes home around seven. She cooks at eight because Jazz wakes up around nine. Jazz stretches and migrates to the kitchen. She decides she needs to see her girlfriend. Besides, Rina went on a trip with Brooklynn, and Jazz missed her morning cuddles. The kitchen smells heavenly as Jazz tumbles to hold her girlfriend. She pauses when, through her blurry eyes, she notices a wispy black shadow. She wakes up almost immediately. Camillia never showed her tail or horns. The demon said she was embarrassed of them. Jazz couldn't understand why. Camillia's tail is black with sprinkles of white through it. It's shadowy and looks almost see-through. The sagittate has a small red x on it. Jazz frown as she notices a bent in it. It's like the tail was broken and healed back wrong. The x also gives her a bad feeling. She shakes it off and looks at the demon's horns. Her horns start at the top of her head and curve backward. It's smooth with a purple iris color. They're short, and the ends are black. The ends are flat and have a reddish tint on them. It makes Jazz's stomach curl. 

Camillia moves and places the rest of the food on plates. She turns around and jumps back. "Jazz, baby, you can't stand behind people and not say anything," Camillia says, with a hand on her chest. Jazz doesn't say anything. Instead, her eyes grow watery. The base of Camillia's horn has a chip in it. A chip that couldn't have been an accident. Camillia stares at Jazz in confusion before realizing what the other is staring at. "Oh," Camillia quickly hides the horns and tail. "Sorry, I know they're hideous." The words snap Jazz out of her frozen state. "No!" She practically yells, startling Camillia. Jazz takes a deep breath and starts again. "I'm sorry. They're beautiful and perfect, Cam," Jazz says, walking closer to the demon. "I just want to know what happened." Camillia's breathing shallows, and she grabs onto the kitchen counter. Jazz stays still, not wanting to scare the other. Camillia calms down and gently leads Jazz to the living room couch. They sit in silence for a while.

 "Which do you want to know about first?" Camillia says, uncertainty filling her voice. "Tail," Jazz says, holding Camillia's hand to comfort the demon. Camillia relaxes at the touch. "Kids learn from their parents. If their parents hate the Wolfhounds, why shouldn't they? So, I was bullied, and it went too far sometimes. My tail was stepped on. When they pushed me and came to see the damage, someone stepped on it. The moment they heard a crunch, everyone went running. Marcie found me and tried to put it back in place. Mar isn't a doctor, and we were kids. So, I'm stuck with a permanently broken tail," Jazz feels her stomach twist in anger and pity for the girl. Camillia looks haunted by the memories. Jazz hugs Camillia and holds her tight. After a few moments, Jazz has to ask about the x she noticed. Camillia lets out a bark of laughter, but it sounds so hollow. "My aunt added that. She never liked me and said she was marking where the bullies should hit," Camillia's voice is shaky. Jazz has the urge to find Camillia's aunt and make her pay. However, with Camillia holding onto her tightly, Jazz knows she can't leave. "Do you want to stop?" Jazz asks as she pets Camillia's hair. "I can tell you about it," Camillia responds. "Just need to stay like this." 

It takes a few seconds before Camillia talks again. "My horns were filed. Someone heard you could file horns and keep the dead horn. I was a good test subject. The problem with filing horns is it should only be done by a professional and only if necessary. They cut too much, and I started to bleed. It hurt the entire time. They only stopped because they saw blood. My horns didn't grow back, and I've gotten used to hiding them. The chip in the side was from me. A girl I was trying to date called me a monster, and I panicked. I bashed my head several times into a wall. It was Emil who stopped me. Unfortunately, the chip stayed as a permanent injury," Camillia has her head fully tucked into Jazz's chest by the end of the story. Jazz feels tears run down her cheeks. The angel rubs her girlfriend's back soothingly even as her heart breaks. How could anyone hurt Camillia? How could she hurt herself? Jazz didn't know what life would bring, but she knew she'd protect Camillia no matter what. Camillia and Rina are the loves of her life, and she won't let anyone hurt them again. 

(A/n: Jazz learning about Camillia's past. Rina already knows about the horns and tail from Marcie and Emil. Camillia's past always gets me. For anyone wondering, Camillia's dad often wasn't home for work. He never knew about his daughter being bullied or anything. All he knew was Camillia didn't like her tail and horns one day and he supported her decision not to show them. Poor Camillia only had her friends when she was young. Even when she could get the bullies to back off (her flame magic), she refused to as she didn't want to be the monster they called her. Also, sagittate means shaped like an arrowhead.)

[ravenclaw-headcanons]

9, 10, and 30! Asking the important questions :)

9. Where is the true North/South divide?

This is a map of all the waitrose branches in Britain. Need I say more

10. Explain the Freddos controversy for all your non-British followers

Listen up, freddos are these tiny little chocolate bars (sorta) shaped like frogs (irl chocolate frogs if you will) and when I was little they used to cost 10p which is a  REASONABLE PRICE because seriously they’re tiny. They’re like 15 grams. 

And from like 1990-2005 it cost 10p (yes I’ve done my research) which like I say is a reasonable price for such a small amount of chocolate. And the price stayed constant for 15 years but now it costs 30p??? What is that??

And yes, I know inflation exists but that is DOUBLE the original price adjusted for inflation. If the price of freddos were increasing at a normal rate they’d be 15p and it is RIDICULOUS that cadbury’s is charging 30p for that shit

Disclaimer: I haven’t eaten a freddo in about 10 years and I don’t know anybody that buys them. We’re all just trained to care very deeply about this even though I probably wouldn’t buy freddos even if they were only 15p. We just care deeply about the injustice of it

30. Chips with gravy: a delicacy or an abomination? How about curry sauce?

As a southerner I didn’t even realise chips and gravy was a thing until I was about 15 and I had nightmares for weeks

Curry sauce is only acceptable if you’re from the midlands/wales and don’t know any better

[neckromantics]

Trips in the Regalia:

Chocobro Headcanons—

could be seen as platonic or not! whatever you want. :) SFW and gender neutral.

Went on a road trip recently so these just kinda popped into my head. Also I missed you guys. :)

Okay, so Noct or Ignis are in charge of driving, obviously. Poor Prompto is pretty much banned from ever touching the wheel unsupervised bc the one time they let him behind the wheel it ended in disaster.

You’re totally allowed to drive but you outright refuse to do so now-a-days because someone distracted you by standing up in his seat and you almost drove off into a ravine out of fright.

Ignis has been known to let one of you sit on his lap and steer just for fun. Sure it looks ridiculous, but he can not handle the puppy dog eyes that are sent his way whenever he's asked.

There’s a cooler in the back by your feet that’s stocked full of Ebony and tiny little seltzer waters just in case Ignis gets cranky or someone starts to feel a little car sick.

The glove box might as well be considered a medicine cabinet with the amount of curatives that's stuffed inside.

Long road trips ALWAYS become even longer road trips because no one in the car knows how to synchronize their pee breaks. You keep telling them to just go all at once but they never listen. Someone always insists they don’t have to go and then changes their mind five minutes after you’ve left the rest area.

Parking at the side of the road where said someone has to do the walk of shame to nearby shrubbery while everyone else stays in the car and talks shit about them.

The Regalia always smells strongly of whatever essential oil that’s been dripped into the USB powered diffuser Iris gifted to you guys. It's a godsend, especially after those particularly long hunts where you all could use a shower. If it weren't for her it'd always reek of sweat and desperation in there.

It doesn’t happen very often, but there have been a couple of times that you’ve miscalculated the distance to the next fuel station and had to push the car the rest of the way after running out of fuel a few miles away.

Now Ignis has to reassure you constantly that there's enough gas in the tank, but you still peer over his shoulder to check the fuel gage and start to nervous sweat whenever it drops below half full.

Prom’s always trying to initiate a game of I Spy and you’re the only one that will entertain it lol.

No one in the car is allowed to have the aux due to past music-based arguments. You all have a joint playlist on a music app that you take turns adding songs to, and it gets played on shuffle. The genre is almost never the same back to back, which makes things interesting and also ridiculous.

Naturally Prompto takes so many photos he has to bring what is essentially a briefcase of backup storage. Will crawl into the back seat when he’s bored to sit half on your and Noct’s lap to show you some of them instead of just handing the camera over like a normal person.

Whoever gets to be in the passenger seat has the privilege of feeding Ignis while he’s driving. Apparently, Iggy burns a crazy amount of energy at the wheel because he’s ALWAYS hungry up there. He could feed himself just fine, but where’s the fun in that?

Honestly everyone’s just always feeding each other for some reason.

At some point when Noct’s driving you sneak a carrot stick into his mouth instead of a potato chip and he tries to kill you. Like, I’m not kidding he slams on the breaks and throws himself across the car at you like a rabid animal. It’s not threatening at all because he’s mostly flailing around, but it does take all three of the remaining guys to pry him away from you. You are cackling the entire time.

Gladio spends most trips reading (and then re-reading) the book he brought with him. Will let you lean in close to read it if you ask nicely. Always waits for you to give him the go ahead to turn the page.

You, Noct, and Prompto play rock paper scissors to see who gets shotgun and somehow Prompto wins nine times out of ten.

Ignis is an excellent driver but for some strange reason he loves to do U-turns in the WORST places possible. Will miss an exit and say whatever posh equivalent there is to “My Bad.” and just do a complete one eighty like your lives mean nothing to him. Also? He will slam the breaks on if any of you start misbehaving and it’s hilarious.

Gladio likes to mess with people in passing cars.

He’ll do this blank, dead-eyed stare at them at red lights until they make eye contact with him.

If the top of the Regalia is up for some reason, he’ll roll his window down and motion for them to do the same only to immediately roll his window back up as soon as they roll theirs down.

There's a compartment in between the two front seats that has five sets of matching novelty sunglasses that Noct bought at the shop in Hammerhead. It also has some lip balm, sunscreen, and bandages for when someone inevitably scrapes their knee or something.

There's not a lot of room in the car with all of you inside, so naturally you're forced to sleep in the weirdest of positions. Half on one boy, half on another. An arm or leg hanging out the side of the car. Nearly upside down in the seat.

It’s safe to say the Regalia is like your tiny home away from home by now. Sometimes it’s easier for you to just to pull a blanket into the car and sleep rather than attempt to sleep in some strange, fancy hotel room. The bros will wake up wondering where you are, only to find you curled up like a baby in the back seat.

[b0ther]

tags : drabble/one-shot idk. feminine pronouns, afab reader / royalty or kingdom au, inspired by kill the villainess, eating out, semi-public and clothed though they don’t have sex yet lol we’re gonna have to wait for part two, this was supposed to be short but i got carried away bye.

i’ve been reading a lot of reincarnation manhwas, and i can’t stop thinking about knight yuuta.

knight yuuta with tough, veiny, calloused hands, his fingers are long and pretty and knuckles are chipped with dried blood; a boy that spends his days practicing his swordsmanship against a dull dummy until the sun sets. knight yuuta who is then knighted by a duke’s daughter, whose lips are zipped with obvious intention to display her disinclination to be in the ceremony. knight yuuta who follows the lady home that night, three steps behind her at all times, and recognizes that the vicinity around her isn’t the one that he is welcomed in; knight yuuta who doesn’t speak of it or point it out either way.

“i don’t need a knight,” the lady then says one afternoon, eyes closed as she sips on her most favored flavor of tea under the bright sunlight. knight yuuta is sitting across her, eyes vigilantly watching her every move and ears perked up as if someone is going to ambush her in her own garden — he insisted that the lady enjoy her afternoon tea alone, you see, that he isn’t fit to be sitting on the same table as a lady. but she looked up at him with disinterest that struck his chest, questioning his loyalty to her. he immediately took the only empty seat on the round table.

the duke’s daughter, knight yuuta quickly learns, has a cute side to herself. she keeps him close to her, in the mansion and in the castle, even when she told him that she has no need of him to be around. she takes him to the market, and inside extravagant boutiques that he had never thought that he could enter. and though she has her own lady-in-waiting, she prefers discerning his opinion over hers. knight yuuta does not think of dresses often, and so he carelessly picks ones that he thinks would look best on his lady, and waits just outside the changing room.

but she drags him in, her touch delicate and unforgettable, it’s the first time he’s been touched by those soft hands — she smells of lemon cakes and roses; his lady closes the door and tells him to sit on a chair on the very back of the room. one servant argues — it would be improper for him to see you change, my lady — and she indifferently waves their reasoning away, “he is the only person in this room who has sworn his life to me, wouldn’t it be audacious of me to place my faith on all of you but not him?” as more complaints flows out of the servant’s mouth, his lady raises one hand to silence them and commands another to undo the laces of her dress. that day, knight yuuta learns of the boundaries the lady placed between them — he also learns that the lady has smooth, silky skin, and though his expression is unmoving as he watches her undress to her corset, both hands on his knees forms a fist.

neither knight yuuta nor his lady likes the crown prince very much. he came to learn that the person he is serving is second only to the crown prince, his lady’s inimical fiancé, and that she holds power and influent that most people would not be able to even imagine. knight yuuta knows his lady as one who is loved by all in the duke’s household — and how can one not? his lady, despite her frigid appearance, has the heart of gold that many claims to have, and he is convinced that no one in the kingdom is able to rival neither her elegance nor beauty. and so he wonders, day and night, how is her fate so ill that she is set to marry the wretched prince.

knight yuuta has not ever comment on the countless times his lady hides behind the palace pavilions, shielding herself from leering eyes as she continues to sob and wail quietly into her fragile palms. he has never seen her cry, at all times, he is on the lookout for people that are walking towards them — his gaze is enough to send them away — so that his lady’s dignity would not be tarnished any more than what that bastard prince has commit. he’d kill him, knight yuuta swears, if he isn’t the goddamned crown prince, he’d slit his throat wide open for making his lady cry.

why would anyone choose another woman than his lady? why would anyone openly flaunt their choice in picking arrogant and crude ladies to be their partner? doing so is one thing, but letting his lady catch them in the middle of coition is another. she is trying her best to fit in the mold of the perfect king’s wife, and the crown prince insists lazing around with no inch of grace in his body, even knight yuuta, who comes from a lowly origin, knows better than to exhibit infidelity even in a political driven engagement.

his lady asks him to accompany her to a nighttime tea one evening, and who is knight yuuta to refuse? the underlying sparks in her eyes isn’t present, her voice is low under flickering candlelight as she brings her cup to her lips. “you’re the only one i can trust, sir yuuta,” she says without precipitating movements, “you are my only friend.” that night, yuuta stabs his blade through the chest of a man who tried to bring a knife up to his lady’s face in her own garden. though his lady is unmoving, she lifts her gaze to the sky as the assassin breathes his last breath, “the crown prince has trivialized my knight.” as yuuta peers up at his lady, his eyes widen in overwhelming exalt — she looks magnificent.

trips to town has become a weekly occurrences for yuuta and his lady; her favorite hobby is to dress in regular clothings and prance down the marketplace, making him carry all her luggages. the downtown theater is her best loved place — a new short play every week is to be presented, with new songs and new tricks. his lady loves stories, and yuuta loves watching her eyes light up at every twist the play would offer. though that evening, his lady’s melancholic frown seeps pass her defenses, and he immediately recognizes the presence of the crown prince three rows under where they are sitting — in his arm is another lover yuuta does not recognize.

as his hand creeps to the hilt of his sword, his lady stood up. she is silent, as always, trying her best to not be the center of attention, as she makes her way out the exit. all thoughts of harming the crown prince escapes his mind — his lady is all that matters, after all. he follows her to the empty night streets, hand flying out to catch her wrist; yuuta disobeys his lady for the first time and did not let go even when she tries to pry him off. she refuses to look at him, and he understands, so he tugs her frail body towards his larger one, hand pressing her forehead against his chest.

“i don’t even love him,” as soon as he feels his lady’s sobbings, yuuta pulls them into an alleyway — he will not see her crying face, so no one else can do so. her fingers grip his tunic, tears sopping the material and yuuta can only rock them back and forth as a vain attempt in calming her down. “yuuta, i’m a-always doing my best, i-is that not enough?”

yuuta grits his teeth at the question — he’d kill the crown prince, he swears it. he pulls her from his chest, for the first time, he takes in the sight of her piteous face — her tear-stained cheeks are flushed, eyes swollen, and chest heaving. his heart clenches at the sight, and so, he closes his eyes and brings his large hand to cup her jaws, leaning down to catch her quivering lips with his.

at first, yuuta expects a harsh shove. he expects a slap on his face, or perhaps even a punch. he does not expect for his lady to be melting into the contact; all the tension on his shoulders fades away as he falls in deeper to the kiss, one hand wrapping around her small waist to hold her body closer to his. he can feel her hiccups as she raises her arms to snake around his neck, pulling him down towards her. yuuta knows that he should be careful when it comes to his delicate lady, that he should hold himself back as he is much stronger than she is; and he might have committed a sin when he thrusts her onto the wall.

he silently reprimands his excitement, and while he keeps each hand on her jaw and waist, his dark eyes peered down to his lady, waiting for her to rebuke his actions. but she does not comment on the cold wall or his daring decision — instead, she looks down to her feet, still trying to manage her hiccups, and quietly asks, “are you not going to kiss me again?”

splutters of apologies fly out his lips — he has kissed the crown prince’s fiancé, and while the fear of his own life is not present, yuuta fears for his lady’s. she turns away for a moment, her then erratic breath is now calm and slow, muttering something yuuta does not quite catch. she unhooks her arms from his neck, her soft touch traveling from his neck to the curves of his hard jaws. turning to look at him, shy and timid, his lady grips the base of the hand on her jaw with her smaller ones, tugging it off his face and placing it very carefully on the mound of her breast.

yuuta holds his breath.

the resilient lady keeps her eye contact — he doesn’t know how she does it — and presses her fingers on top of his, making him dig into the fabric and feel his digits drowning in the soft flesh underneath. yuuta does not say a word, he merely does what his lady tells him to do. “you can move,” her pliable voice whispers, and so he does. he takes the initiative to fondle her chest, stepping in closer as he admires how she fits perfectly in his wide palm. the fingers on his hand loosens; his lady takes one thumb to nibble between her teeth as yuuta continues to knead her mound, his breath hot against her face. he was so engrossed in her breast, that when his lady lets out a low sigh, he immediately pulls away.

at an instant, his eyes goes to her face — has he hurt her? he is greeted, however, by his lady’s flushed face (now for an entirely different reason) and her drool pooling on her thumb and on the corner of her pretty lips, threatening to spill out. has her lips always been this plump? yuuta feels his cock hardening against the restraining fabric of his pants as he thinks about how his kiss may be the one making her look so. . . amorous.

“sir yuuta,” his lady whimpers, and he almost flinched at how sultry the complaint sounds. she is so different from the lady he usually serves — so different from the usual bold and prideful woman that she is. yuuta raises his hand back to her chest and she lets out a sigh of relief; his lady looks so small as he towers her, so supple and pliant. is he allowed to do this? is he allowed to see her in such state?

she must have noticed his hesitation. her teeth let go of the thumb in her mouth and she slowly tugs the material of her long skirt to her chest. yuuta let go of her body completely and allows her to exhibit her smooth skin, the fat of her thighs making his head go dizzy even when he’s seen her change so many times. the reveal of her undergarments is slow, but yuuta doesn’t mind, not when his lady is revealing so much of herself to him — her laced underwear cups the shape of her pussy so well, that he almost convinces himself that it’s a sin to be staring for so long.

yuuta swallows the lump in his throat and squats before his lady, the case of his blade clashing against the ground. his face is just inches from her core, breath blowing against her warmth when his lady breaks his trance, “y-you can touch it. if you want.”

he may as well faints. yuuta looks up at his lady who’s intently staring back at him, tense from all that is happening. something tells him that she wants him to touch her, and so he raises one finger — just one, he tries not to be greedy — and presses that finger flat against the length of her slit.

“ngh—“

the responses are all so new for him. he keeps his eyes on his lady as her face rumples into an expression he has never seen her worn — it stirs something inside of him. he wants nothing more but to take his cock out and beat it to the expression she is showing him, but he doesn’t do it. instead, he waits for her cues while occasionally pressing harder on her mound.

“you—“ his lady takes his hand and directs him to a specific spot of her groin; yuuta can feel a bud nestling right there under her underwear, “—you can touch me there.”

yuuta follows her command, and he finds his heart drumming against his chest when his lady’s fingers immediately grips his hair. he places his free hand on her thigh — one he has been longing to hold — and continues pressing her down on the spot she had shown him while occasionally running his finger up and down her slit.

his eyes never leaves his beautiful lady’s face, only glancing to what is in front of him for a moment to see her undergarments getting darker in color when he feels his finger getting wet. yuuta swallows the lump of his throat again — she looks so ravishing, he must say, so inviting. it takes every fiber of his being to not do anything too rash, he wouldn’t want his lady to be uncomfortable around him, but he is only getting more and more close to her pulsating core. her little pants are music to his ears, her little moans of his name — and just his name. they both don’t know what to say in times like this, and yuuta feels content with his lady calling out to him with her velvety voice.

until, of course, something inside of him decides that it’s a good idea to press his lips against the fabric separating his finger and her folds. “yuuta—!” his lady squeals, fingers digging in his scalp as he continues to place flutters of little kisses on her drenched underwear, tasting the sweet slick of his beloved lady. she’s addicting.

yuuta shifts on his feet, angling his face so that he can kiss her better. he uses one finger to pull the fabric aside and let the cool night air breeze against her wet slit. his lady shivers, and he is sure that she is about to say something but his tongue races her, and takes one long lick in between her folds to let her juice run down his tongue. his lips settle on the bud he had felt earlier and slowly sucks on her glistening clit.

noises that his lady makes after he does that is different. though she was panting before, she didn’t do so in a way that is so. . . exhilarating. he is rock hard now, sucking on her throbbing clit, squelching sounds that fill him with delight entering his ears easily. she is so so wet, sopped in her own slick for him.

“y-yuuta—“

he loves her. he really do. yuuta does not lower the intensity of his sucking, and instead, only grips her hips to support her body against the wall once he feels her knees trembling from either side of his body. she’s muttering all sorts of things now, telling him how he feels so good, how his tongue is making her feel so hot.

“yuuta— i’m gonna, i—“

his sweet lady cannot finish her sentence — she is cut off by her own gushing, juice flowing to make a mess on his chin as he continues eating her out, tongue poking at the sensitive button between her folds. she’s trying so hard to keep her voice down, yuuta can tell, biting the back of her hand as she throws her head on the wall. her hips convulses so hard against his face, grinding down on him.

yuuta does not stop. he keeps on lapping up her cum, obsessed with the taste of her honeyed slick as he tugs on her clit softly with his lips, silently begging her to give him more.

“s’enough—“ his lady’s words fall on deaf ears, yuuta keeps slurping up her juice until she finally pushes his head away. “e-enough, sir yuuta!”

yuuta blinks up at her — drowning in the sight of her post orgasm: sweat drenching down her face and neck, chest heaving with massive draws of breath, her hair disheveled and messy (quite unfitting for a lady), and her face somewhat debauched. he made her look like that, a sense of burning pride flares up in his chest, he’s the only one to see his lady like that.

remnants of her juice dribbles down his chin on his throat, and yuuta unconsciously scoops it up with a finger to put in his mouth, indulging himself in another taste of her sweet slick. his lady sees this and looks away, muttering about how indecent he is being. he cannot help the small smirk slipping on his lips as he wipes his face free of her wetness. he stands up, not making a move though his eyes lingers on her chest — he stares longer, more than he usually would and wonders what would his lady’s tits look like under all these article of clothings, and would she ever let him suck on them.

she drops the skirt from her hand, crossing her arms under her chest — perhaps to tease him, or to coax him even further — as her cool expression returns to her face. she still looks embarrassed, face still flushed with her hair sticking firmly on her forehead with sweat, but yuuta does not point it out.

instead, he simply offers her his hand when she says, “take me back to the mansion.” he does not mention too, of course, the way she stumbles in her steps, slightly limping, as they walk back home.

[iyumeu]

Pillow Fort Movie Time! - with the Brothers

After begging, pleading, wheedling, and scoring As for all your tests, Lucifer had finally given in and allowed you to use the House of Lamentation's common area one (1) time to do whatever you wanted.

And you wanted to build a pillow fort.

However! You were not content with just a pillow fort. No. You wanted a Cinema Pillow Fort: large, extravagant, and with a television you could watch a movie on.

And so you went to Mammon, knowing that he had a large flat-screen television hoarded somewhere within his room that he wasn't using at all.

⭒☆━━━━━━━⸜₍๑•⌔•๑ ₎⸝━━━━━━━☆⭒

> When you asked Mammon for the television, he was somewhat reluctant to part with it at first. After all, it had cost him a pretty penny and it was fragile!

> However, after telling him what you wanted to do with it and inviting him along (because he would be part of your pillow fort movie party. C'mon. He never leaves you alone and it'll be better to invite him rather than have him try to squeeze his way in. Inviting him would make him feel wanted and you definitely wanted him there!), he had blushed and said that it wasn't that he wanted to help you, but you had asked and he just so happened to be free so he would help you set up both the television and the fort! But he wasn't being nice! He was just... making sure that your pillow fort didn't suck! Because he'd be in there too! (Because he was your first! Your man!) And he didn't want to be in a pillow fort that sucked!

> Mammon had no idea what a pillow fort was. But he wasn't going to tell you that.

> He plugged up the television and hung up the canopy of the pillow fort, layering the blankets and cloth (and why had Mammon been hoarding so much good cloth?) and attaching them to the part of the ceiling where Lucifer usually strung him from so they were nice and secure.

> Your excitement and joy was rubbing off of him and he found himself looking forward to seeing the end result of the pillow fort the two of you were building together.

> Meanwhile you placed some futons and thin mattresses — whatever you had lying around, really — on the ground before covering them up with a few layers of plush and fluffy blankets for the base of the pillow fort.

This was when Belphegor trailed down the stairs, sleepily rubbing at his eye with one hand and holding his pillow in the other, pausing in his step when he saw caught sight of the utter mess you and Mammon had turned the common area to.

⭒☆━━━━━━━ʕ -ᴥ-ʔ━━━━━━━☆⭒

> Belphegor's first thought was honestly to just leave you guys be. It looked like more trouble than it was worth and he couldn't really muster up the energy for it.

> But then you smiled at Mammon so openly and so sweetly, thanking him for his help, that Belphegor suddenly sound himself standing next to you, arms around you and his chin resting on your head.

> "MC... what are you doing?" he asked, ignoring Mammon's demands for him to keep his hands to himself.

> "I'm building a pillow fort!"

> Despite having a demon hanging off of you, you move with a practiced ease as you shifted the futons and mattresses around to ensure that there were neither bumps nor gaps in your base.

> With a similarly practiced ease, Belphie nuzzled his face into the crook of your shoulder.

> "What's a pillow fort?"

> You briefly explain to Belphie what a pillow fort was (pretending to ignore how Mammon listened in on the conversation as well): a construction made out of blankets, pillows, and other soft material resembling a sort of den or nest. It was supposedly very comfortable and cozy.

> This piqued Belphegor's interest. He asks if he can help. He wants to be praised too, like how you praised Mammon.

> You tell him to bring all the pillows he's willing to part with. This was something he could do. He had a lot of pillows, after all, and he would ask Beel to help him drag them all down.

> While Belphegor went to retrieve his pillows, you already had a few beanbags chairs that you bought specifically for this day that you placed around the fort. You piled your pillows together with them to create a few sizeable and steady piles to either lean back or bury yourself in.

Eventually, Beelzebub came down the stairs along with Belphegor, arms pull of pillows and cushions.

⭒☆━━━━━━━ᙙᙖ━━━━━━━☆⭒

> After setting down the pillows and watching Belphegor lie face first into a pile and fall asleep, Beelzebub's attention was immediately drawn to the pile of snacks you had set aside for your movie night.

> First, there were the snacks you had specifically imported from the human realm. Popcorn with various flavors, marshmallows, potato chips, ice cream... you even got yourself two buckets of cotton candy!

> Apart from those, you had spent the day cooking large servings of mac n' cheese, mashed potatoes, and warm soup (in a thermos!). You had also baked cookies and although half of them "mysteriously" disappeared when you were cooling them, you still had quite a sizeable serving left.

> Why did you have so much food? Because you planned ahead of course! From the very beginning, you knew that even though pillow fort movie night was something you planned for yourself, your wonderful, beloved, amazing, clingy demonic housemates would somehow become a part of it.

> The only thing you weren't sure was the number of demons joining you.

> It didn't matter though, considering Beelzebub was here.

> You had to stand between Beelzebub and the food, sternly holding your ground and talking him down. It was an extremely difficult endeavor, considering the lethality of Beelzebub's puppy eyes, but you pulled through. Just barely.

> You lied. You gave Beel the mashed potatoes.

> When you noticed that Beelzebub was still eyeing the rest of your food, you firmly told him that the food was saved for your movie night and that if he wanted to eat it, he had to wait until then.

> "When will movie night start?" he asked.

> "When the pillow fort is set up," you replied.

> +1 helper, get!

> He helped with most of the heavy lifting, bringing the high-backed dining chairs to act as boundary wall for the fort, tying the blankets to them.

> Your pillow fort was taking shape!

> However, it seemed a little too dark. You had completely forgotten to order the fairy lights you planned to use as mood lighting. Thankfully, you know someone who definitely had what you were looking for.

⭒☆━━━━━━━₍ᐢ ̥ ̞ ̥ᐢ₎ ♥━━━━━━━☆⭒

When you knocked on Asmodeus' door to get some of his charmed candles (spelled to keep the flame to themselves! no more burns! no more accidental fires! no more fire hazards! get yours from akuzon now, for only—), he demanded to know what it was for.

> "Is it for a date? A candlelit dinner, maybe?" Asmodeus sidled up next to you, wrapping his arms around one of yours and snuggling close. "Or perhaps to set a romantic, sensual mood for certain... activities?"

> Was it just you or was Asmodeus' grip getting tighter?

> "Since when did you get a paramour anyway," he pouted. "I thought we were friends? Close friends, even! We're supposed to tell each other our secrets!"

> "It's for my pillow fort," you answered. "I'm making one downstairs with Mammon, Belphie, and Beel. You're welcome to join if you want to."

> "I'd love to join!" Asmodeus let go of your arm to grab his candles. "Scented or non-scented?"

> "Non-scented please, we'll be eating snacks while we watch the movie."

> Asmodeus gasped. "A movie? We're going to have a movie date? Ooh, I want to sit next to you! Can I?"

> "Uhhh, I don't mind, but the others might—"

> "It's settled!"

> Asmodeus looked so happy that you decided that you had to make space for him by your side, even if you were faced with ten thousand puppy eyes.

Just then, you saw that Leviathan's door was open and he was looking at the both of you with a pinched expression on his face.

⭒☆━━━━━━━～>º˵)ニニニニ>━━━━━━━☆⭒

> When he realized that you were looking at him, he panicked.

> "MC!!" he blurted out. "I wasn't eavesdropping!"

> His face was flushed red but you noticed that his gaze was still enviously fixed onto you and Asmodeus.

> "Do you want to join us in the pillow fort as well?" you offered. Levi's face turned redder and his grip on the door tightened. Ahh Levi, you're warping the wood.

> "I don't need to join in on your normie activities!" he spat out and then immediately regretted it. "I mean, I don't need to, but I don't mind it! Since you've asked, I suppose I can join in on your movie night and pillow fort!"

> "You don't have to if you don't want to," you said. Half of you was trying to be nice. The other half just wanted to see Levi flustered. You couldn't help yourself. A flustered Levi was a cute Levi!

> Levi mumbled something under his breath. You blinked and leaned in closer.

> "What did you say?"

> "I said I want to!"

> You grinned at him and discovered a brand new shade of red.

> You reached out to link your arms with Asmodeus and Levi.

> "C'mon, let's get back down. The pillow fort should almost be done by now!"

> "Oh right MC," Asmodeus suddenly said. "I've been meaning to ask; what exactly is a pillow fort?"

> "..."

When you were done explaining to Asmodeus and Levi the intricacies of building the Ideal Pillow Fort, you saw Satan standing in the common area, looking curiously at the fort.

⭒☆━━━━━━━(=🝦 ༝ 🝦=)━━━━━━━☆⭒

> You swear, if you had to explain what a pillow fort was one more time—

> "Hello MC, is this... a blanket fort?" Satan asked.

> Oh thank god.

> Or the devil?

> Religion is hard when you're in hell.

> "Yes! I call it a pillow fort but blanket fort is one of its names as well."

> "I see."

> Satan had come across blanket forts — or pillow forts, as MC called them — before in some of the human romance novels he's read. Usually they were used during terribly intimate moments between the romantic leads, or between two very close friends.

> Huddling together and trading hushed whispers, intertwined fingers and shoulders brushing against each other, a small part of Satan has always wanted to try it out with someone.

> Try it out with you, you, it could only be you.

> But he hadn't known how to make a blanket fort and if he were every to do something like that with you, he would want it to be perfect.

> He couldn't find any books on the subject of making blanket forts either so he eventually gave up on his fantasy.

> But now, here it was. The blanket fort.

> It was a little bigger than how he imagined it to be, but it was fine.

> There were also more people compared to how things were in his fantasy but that was also fine.

> He took careful notes in his head. Next time, he would be able to replicate a blanket fort and hopefully you would be willing to share it with him.

> "Would you like to join in?" you asked because Satan was really eyeing the pillow fort with a strange intensity.

> "If you don't mind," Satan replied with a smile.

It was just then that Lucifer came home.

⭒☆━━━━━━━[ᓀ˵◇˵ᓂ]━━━━━━━☆⭒

> "When you said that you wanted free reign over the common area, this was not what I had in mind," Lucifer commented.

> "Haha," you said. And because you already had like six out of seven of the brothers agreeing to join you in your fort, you decided to test your chances with Lucifer. After all, it would suck for him to feel left out. "We're all gonna watch a movie together, would you like to watch with us?"

> There was a long pause as Lucifer looked at you, at the pillow fort, at his brothers, and then at his suitcase.

> Just as you were sure that Lucifer was going to turn down your invitation, he sighed and gave you a small smile.

> Tiny, miniscule, microscopic softening of the eyes, but you knew him well enough to tell that it was a smile.

⭒☆━━━━━━━✿ᏊㅇꈊㅇᏊ✿━━━━━━━☆⭒

> It took a while but eventually you all got yourself settled into the pillow fort. It wasn't a very tight fit, but it certainly was cozy with your clingy demon housemates squeezed tight all around you.

> Each of them had to have a part of their body touching yours, like you were their life source and it brought back memories to the time you went to the beach and, in the hotel, they all formed a circle around you to sleep like some sort of deranged ritual.

> Still, they wouldn't be your beloved demon housemates without all their oddities and quirks and you love them all dearly for it.

> It also helps that not all of them ran hot; some of them actually ran cold so you didn't have to worry about getting overheated anytime soon.

> Anyway, you were comfortable and once you made sure everyone else was too, you loaded your movie and hit play.

"I'd never given much thought to how I would die—"

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, forty-eight

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

Based on the prompts:

“This wasn’t supposed to happen – this wasn’t – the plan was…”

Seeing someone’s made them their lockscreen

“Take these clothes and make them smell like you again.”

“I’m mad at you because I love you”

“Is that all you’re going to sleep in?” “Yeah, you know this is what I sleep in when it’s this warm.”

“Want to kiss me?” “Not in the slightest.”

Aelin did her best to keep a smile on her face as they drove the short distance from the beach to Aelin’s house, but inside she felt like she was dying a thousand deaths. She kept Rowan’s hand in a vice grip, laced with her fingers, and tried to focus on every detail of his hand instead of the gnawing feeling in her stomach. She turned his hand over in hers and let her thumb trail down each long finger, tapping the pad gently and trailing back down. He shivered as he pulled into her driveway, causing her to smile softly. But it was wiped off her face as he turned to her, concerned, pulling his hand away and resting it on his lap.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His side-eye was enough to let her know that he’d clocked her sudden silence in the car, but she didn’t want to fight tonight. She just wanted to be with him. She wanted to pretend that he hadn’t just torn apart the future she’d imagined for them; she wanted to feel him pressed against her and kiss him senseless until all her bad thoughts had emptied out of her head.

“It kind of feels like you’re mad at me?” Rowan prodded, not getting the hint that she just wanted to ignore things and barrel forward. But she was always better at ignoring things than he was. “Is this about the, uh… sex stuff?”

“I’m not,” she said. It wasn’t even a lie – she’d been so distracted by the college news that his new sex parameters had been completely erased from her brain. Plus, it wasn’t even that she was mad. She was confused. Really, really confused. “I’m just hungry.”

At that, a wide smile cracked across Rowan’s face, his green eyes glinting with laughter as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. She hummed happily at the feel of his soft mouth against hers.

“I should have known,” he chuckled against her skin. Then it was her turn to shiver.

His voice was ever so slightly lower, and she loved the new feel of the vibrations against her cheek. Her eyes widened as he pulled back, giving her some sort of indiscernible look, and then immediately closed as his lips crashed against hers. The kiss took her by surprise as the ferocity melted away into something softer. This kiss was unlike anything she’d experienced before; it was slower, more prolonged, his tongue just barely brushing between her lips to touch hers. An uncontrollable guttural noise escaped her mouth as his hands knotted in her hair, grabbing fistfuls of her salt-dried locks. He reared back quickly, his eyes downcast as he rubbed his hand over his face and groaned a low, painful sound. But he smiled at her again, regardless.

“Who taught you how to kiss like that?” Aelin asked, breathless and eyes glazed over with lust, feeling phantom tingles against her mouth, remembering the kiss in excruciating detail.

Rowan’s cheeks flushed, but she barely noticed, too distracted by the way his new muscles flexed beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt as he ran his hand through his unruly hair.

“I told you the guys at camp were…informative,” he laughed under his breath. His eyes flicked up to hers, nervously, and she couldn’t help but sigh happily. That was the reunion she had imagined. Incredible kisses and sweet smiles and soft blushes.

“We were supposed to eat hours ago,” he laughed. “And you’re going to get even grumpier if you keep looking at me like that because I’m not going to let you out of this car.”

“We can arrange for that,” Aelin laughed, leaning over the console, but Rowan just laughed and grabbed his vibrating phone from his pocket. A long string of text alerts appeared on the screen, garnering Aelin’s curiosity. “Someone’s popular…” she said, wondering who could possibly be texting Rowan that much.

“Camp guys group chat,” he explained, quickly clearing the notifications away with a swipe of his thumb and revealing his lock screen – Aelin’s own face smiling back at her from his hand.

“Am I your lock screen?” she asked, though the answer was quite clear. His lock screen was the picture she’d sent with him to camp – her smiling and posing in her lifeguard uniform. At his shy answering smile, she wanted to launch herself at him again, but he stopped her with a soft kiss. She couldn’t help but pout.

“Food,” Rowan protested weakly.

“Kisses,” Aelin said, leaning forward again. “I need to collect on a thousand of them, remember?” Her lips pressed against his softly over and over, her words escaping between the thousand kisses she meant to collect.

“Babyyy,” he said, pained.

The sound thrilled Aelin and sent a jolt of electricity down her spine. She pulled back, flushed and smiling, their discord pushed to the back of her brain, erased by Rowan’s thorough kisses.

“So, not that I mind… at all,” Aelin said, unbuckling herself and finally getting out of the car. “But, I don’t think you’ve ever called me baby so much before.”

Rowan slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her tight, and she inhaled his scent that she’d missed so much and exhaled the tension from her shoulders.

“It’s so I don’t confuse you with my other girlfriends,” he said so nonchalantly that Aelin froze and looked up at him. And up a little further. It was going to take some getting used to his new height. His answering smirk was enough to have Aelin pulling herself out of his grasp and punching the side of his arm. “Ow,” he laughed, rubbing at the spot where Aelin had landed her first. “What?” he joked. “If I call you all baby I have less chance of mixing up your names…baby,” he said with a wink.

Though she was a hundred percent certain Rowan was joking, she couldn’t help the small tug of insecurity, reminding her that she wasn’t always his one and only.

She must have made a face because Rowan tugged at her hand and pulled her close again. “I’m kidding, Ace.”

“You’d better be,” she mumbled, opening the front door.

They were greeted by the sight of Rhoe and Lorcan in the kitchen, which barely phased Aelin at this point. Lorcan was sitting at the table, hunched over as he scooped tortilla chips into a large bowl of guacamole, while Rhoe cooked something on the stovetop.

“BABE!” Lorcan bellowed through his mouthful of chips.

Aelin practically rolled her eyes as her hulking friend galloped across the room to embrace her boyfriend. Though she couldn’t help but notice that Rowan was only about an inch or two shorter than Lorcan. Wow, he really had grown. Apparently that was the first thing that Lorcan noticed, too, because his eyes widened as he took in Rowan’s new form, perusing him up and down before smirking soundly and clapping his friend on the back.

“Well, well, well, look who finally grew up,” Lorcan said with a salacious grin. “You fill in that much everywhere?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Salvaterre, don’t be gross,” Rhoe chastised weakly before giving his own hug to Rowan. “Welcome back, kid. We missed you. And it looks like Antica agreed with you,” he said with a smile.

“I guess?” Rowan shrugged, but Lorcan wanted to make sure her boyfriend knew exactly what that meant.

“Babe,” he began, getting Rowan’s attention back. “You got hot. Like, really hot.”

A steady blush crept up the back of Rowan’s neck as he shyly tucked his chin into his chest, his eyes sliding to Aelin for confirmation.

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled, but Lorcan just let out a snort.

“Well, I do.” He paused and looked at Aelin, concerned. “Come on, Aelin, tell him. He looks like a golden god.”

Aelin frowned at the boy who had become like an annoying older brother to her in the course of the summer, and reached up and covered Rowan’s ears as best as she could, lifting up onto her tiptoes. “Don’t tell him, Lor! It’s much better for all of us if he doesn’t know.”

“I can still hear you,” Rowan laughed, eyes amused as he pulled Aelin’s hands from his ears.

“So, Golden God,” Rhoe said, trying his hardest not to laugh. “Don’t keep us waiting forever. Maeve said you had some very exciting news to share, but she wouldn’t tell us.”

Rowan looked nervously at Aelin and then back at Lorcan and Rhoe as they waited impatiently, and Aelin’s stomach twisted again. She’d been able to push away this information for a little bit, but she knew she’d have to deal with it eventually.

But she stood dutifully beside him, always smiling as he showed them his Wendlyn recruitment letter.

“Wowwwww,” Lorcan said, taking the letter and looking at it closer. “Better get those grades up this semester,” he joked at Aelin, causing her bad mood to return in full force. She was afraid she was going to cry, seeing how happy her dad and Lorcan were for Rowan. She should have been just as happy, but she just couldn’t bring herself to be.

She lifted herself up onto her toes again and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“I’m going to go shower and change. Will you figure out dinner?” she asked softly. She didn’t bother to wait for Rowan’s acceptance of her request to bolt upstairs and shut the door.

Carefully encased in her room, she let her shoulders sag. She felt the weight of the night collapse onto her, her emotions running wild as she finally let herself really truly feel. The strong spray of the shower wasn’t enough to clear away the feelings of upset, but then she was clouded with guilt. She should be happy for Rowan. Everyone else was. It was a fantastic opportunity, what he was being presented with. A full ride to an incredible school.

An incredible school that she had no shot of getting into.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d thought about their future. She’d imagined walking across campus hand-in-hand and sneaking kisses between study sessions in the library, of coming back to her dorm late at night, tipsy on cheap alcohol and endorphins and twisting into a tiny twin bed, legs entangled as they slept together. She imagined going to his games and getting decked out in their college colors and sitting with their group of friends as they cheered wildly for him, for their team to win. She imagined meeting on campus for coffee between classes and coming back home together.

As the water pelted onto her sore muscles, she mourned the loss of her imagined future. She took deep breaths as the images faded away, becoming something horrible, something sinister. She saw Rowan on the Wendlyn campus, surrounded by other girls far smarter and more talented than her, all laughing and trading stories about their exes from high school. A wave of insecurity swept over her, tugging her mood down, down, down, until all her dreams had swirled down the drain with the last droplet of water as she turned off the faucet.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her usually bright eyes looking sullen and angry, and tried to shake it off, but it was too late. She’d let it wash over her. She’d been overtaken.

Her mood only worsened when she realized most of her pajamas were dirty, and she had nothing more than an old dryer shrunken tank top and well-worn shorts to wear. So, now she didn’t even feel cute. She was calling tonight a wash.

Heading downstairs, she was unsurprised to see all the men in her life, huddled around the chips and guac on the table, shoveling food into their mouths and discussing Lorcan’s favorite parts of fire academy. But as Rowan heard her footsteps creaking across the floorboards, he inhaled sharply and began coughing wildly.

“What are you wearing?” Rowan managed to wheeze out as his coughing subsided, and Aelin looked down at her ratty old pajamas with a frown.

“Pajamas?”

“That’s all you’re going to sleep in?” he asked, his eyes slowly trailing down the expanse of her exposed legs.

Aelin crossed her arms over her chest protectively. “You know this is what I sleep in when it’s this warm,” she replied, nonplussed. The pajamas were old, yes, but he didn’t have to make a big deal about it. She didn’t get why he was so hung up on it. Rowan blinked and blinked again, clearing his throat slightly as he looked away.

“With Lorcan here?”

Aelin frowned. “Lorcan’s always here.”

Lorcan snorted loudly. “You weren’t kidding. She is hangry.”

Aelin’s brows furrowed as her eyes narrowed in Lorcan’s direction as she took the empty seat next to Rowan. She sat stiffly beside him, neither of them reaching for each other how they usually would, no hands held or knees caressed or hair tucked behind ears. She felt all weird and prickly and wrong.

“So,” she said turning to him, “Did you figure out dinner, or did you just eat chips?”

Rhoe paused mid-bite, looking between Aelin and Rowan curiously. His brow raised, but Aelin just shook her head slightly.

“I thought we’d go out for pizza, but if you’re already in pajamas, we could order delivery?” Rowan suggested. Aelin just shrugged and took the empty seat next to him.

“And wait an hour for Aelin to be fed?” Lorcan gasped. “That sounds dangerous.”

Aelin frowned. “You think you’re so funny.”

“He’s not funny, he tells the truth, Fireheart,” Rhoe said, pressing a kiss to Aelin’s forehead as he made his way to the kitchen. “Let’s see what we have in the fridge.” She watched as her dad opened and closed all the doors and cabinets, shouting out options to them, each one sounding worse than the last.

“I think, maybe, pizza is the safest,” Aelin said.

“We have stuff for BLTs?” Rhoe called out, and Lorcan lit up at that.

“Oooh, a BLT sounds perfect,” he bellowed back.

Rowan snorted. “Yeah, I bet you’d like to B your L on someone’s T’s,” he mumbled under his breath, causing Lorcan’s eyes to widen in shock.

“Did you just say what I think you said?” he asked, laughter bubbling up in his chest, his dark eyes filled with amusement.

“No,” Rowan replied quickly, his cheeks burning red as his eyes trained down on the table, away from Lorcan’s prying eyes. Aelin looked between the two boys, not understanding what was just said.

“My little boy grew up in more ways than one this summer!” Lorcan said, pretending to wipe a tear away from his cheek. Rowan threw a chip across the table at Lorcan’s face, shaking his head. "Naughty, naughty..."

“Shut up.”

“I don’t get it,” she said, frustrated, but Rowan just shot her down.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin stared at him, willing him to break, but he just shook his head and looked down and away from her again as Lorcan smirked.

She wanted to throttle him. It was enough to be rejected sexually and then have him go to college without her, but now for him to be talking about things and not explaining them to her? Inside jokes or whatever, that she was purposefully being excluded from. She felt a burning fury overtake her sadness, replacing her disappointment with a consuming fire, flames raging on the sides of her cheeks as she spat, “Fine,” and stood up from the table and went to go help her dad with their dinner.

There was something comforting about going on autopilot and making sandwiches with her dad. She’d done it so many nights in her life that she could shut her brain off as she reached for the bread, putting it into the toaster and grabbed a tomato and began slicing. Her dad stood beside her, flipping pieces of sizzling bacon.

“So…” he finally said, his voice low and concerned. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but I thought for sure you and Rowan would be… reuniting—” he cleared his throat uncomfortably as his eyes shot down to focus on the meat in the pan in front of him, “—elsewhere, until late tonight.”

“Dad.” Aelin couldn’t bear to have her dad talk about her and Rowan’s lack of reuniting.

His low chuckle was countered by his concerned side glance, his blue eyes prying for more information that Aelin did not want to give.

“I’m just saying, there is a distinct lack of hand-holding and all-around general cuddliness between you two, and I was prepared for much, much worse from the girl who spent every night kissing Rowan’s picture before bed.”

Aelin’s eyes shot to her dad as the toast popped out of the toaster. “You said you’d never bring that up!”

“Fireheart…” Rhoe continued.

But Aelin wasn’t ready to talk yet. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Uh huh,” Rhoe said, pulling the bacon off the pan and laying them on paper towels to de-grease. “Well, if you want to talk, you know where I am.”

“With Lorcan?” she snapped, and immediately felt bad. Her dad had nothing to do with her bad mood. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly. She snatched a warm piece of bacon between her fingers and plopped it into her mouth, letting the salty goodness comfort her. “I really do need some food.”

Luckily, her dad heard her loud and clear and let her stew in her bad mood as she put the sandwiches together while he sliced up some carrots.

Aelin nibbled on her dinner as Rowan and Lorcan wolfed down three sandwiches each.

“I guess you were hungry?” Aelin asked as Rowan brushed a crumb from the corner of his mouth.

“I wasn’t joking when I told you I was hungry all the time,” he laughed, finally resting his hand on her bare knee.

“Hungry and horny,” Lorcan laughed, sending a wink to Rowan across the table. Rowan snatched his hand back from Aelin’s knee, grasping it in his lap, his fingers interlocked as demurely as possible, as Rhoe smacked Lorcan’s shoulder.

“Get out of my house, Salvaterre,” Rhoe said, and though he said it with a joking chuckle, it was clear he was serious. “You’re a terrible influence on my child. I don't need you corrupting Rowan, too.”

“I was jokingggg,” Lorcan insisted, but Rhoe just shook his head. "And I think Rowan has already been corrupted."

The blush that deepened on Rowan's cheeks made Lorcan laugh, but Rhoe merely sighed, telling Lorcan he still needed to leave.

“These two are going to hang out upstairs in Aelin’s room," Rhoe said, "And I am going to catch up on some work.”

“We are?” Aelin asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

“With the door open,” Rhoe warned. “The rules haven’t changed.”

“Except for later curfew,” Aelin reminded him of the conversation they’d had last week, begging to extend her hours until midnight this year. They compromised at 10 on weekdays, but midnight on weekends.

“Except for later curfew,” Rhoe repeated back to her, ignoring the way Lorcan grumbled as he got his things together. “See you in the morning, trainee,” her dad said, sending Lorcan off with a salute.

“Yes, sir,” Lorcan replied automatically. He wrapped his arms around Aelin from behind and whispered in her ear, “Have funnnn,” causing her to elbow him off of her. She didn’t know how she’d ended up with an older brother this summer, but somehow she had. And sometimes he was really annoying.

“So…” Rowan began, standing suddenly. “Upstairs?”

Aelin nodded and watched him grin and sprint up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Aelin took them slower, climbing them one at a time, and she wasn’t surprised to see Rowan already laid out on her bed when she made it to her room. His face was buried into her pillow, inhaling deeply as he groaned, “I missed your smell. Like flowers and lemons.” He rolled onto his back, a big dopey grin on his face, his green eyes lit up with mischief as he asked her, “Do you want to come kiss me?” His hand patted the comforter next to him, but Aelin shook her head.

“Not in the slightest.”

Though she’d tried to make it sound like a joke, it was clear it hadn’t landed. Rowan sat up quickly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Okay, now I know you’re mad at me.”

And Aelin exploded. She couldn’t bear to keep it all inside for one more second.

“Of COURSE I’m mad!”

“Can you tell me why?” Rowan asked, standing up and coming closer. But Aelin put her hand up to stop him. She couldn’t think if he got too close. And now that she’d cracked, she needed to explain herself. But the emotions were spilling out, pouring over in tidal waves, and she was having a hard time articulating the right answer.

“Because! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” she exclaimed, but Rowan just looked at her like she was crazy.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“No, that’s not…” she took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. “We had a plan, and the plan wasn’t – fuck!” Then it was her turn to start to pace. Why couldn’t she just string a god damned sentence together.

“What?” he asked, pushing her to tell him more, his eyes probing for more information as his hands came to rest on either one of her cheeks, steadying her with his concerned face. “What?” he asked again, and Aelin shook her head, letting a tear fall down her cheek. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. Rowan’s thumb swiped against her skin softly, moving the wetness away. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “What did I do?”

She steeled herself, took a deep breath and looked up. “We were supposed to go to college together,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking as much as it felt.

“I…” Rowan’s hands dropped from her cheeks as his broad shoulders tensed. “You’re mad that I got into college? I thought you’d be proud of me… You know how worried I was, and it’s my shot to actually do something with my life.”

“No…no, no… that’s not…” Aelin took another breath. “I am so proud of you, Ro. Wendlyn is incredible.” She watched as the tension drained from his muscles at her words. “I just thought the plan was to go to college together.”

“It is,” Rowan insisted, but Aelin shook her head.

“I can’t get into Wendlyn,” she finally admitted out loud what had been plaguing her all night. “That’s a top school. And even if I did get in, it’s a private school. I have no idea how I’d afford it. And I certainly can’t get a scholarship to a school like that.”

Rowan looked struck for the first time. As if he hadn’t considered Aelin’s words. As if he’d just assumed that she’d be able to go to the school he got into, no matter how exclusive and elite it was.

“There are so many schools by Wendlyn,” Rowan finally said. “Mistward is filled with them. There’s Doranelle and Varese and Mt. Cambria and College of Rivers. So, you could be nearby, even if you don’t get into Wendlyn.”

“So you admit, you don’t think I can get into Wendlyn,” Aelin said defiantly, and she thought that Rowan’s eyes were going to pop out of his head with frustration as he threw his large arms up into the air and then back down again.

“You just said you didn’t think you could get in!” he said, exasperated. But Aelin could only hear the negatives ringing in her head, unwilling to hear what he was really saying. “Ace,” he said steadily. “We promised, no matter what, we’d make this work. This is no exception. You’re mad at me over nothing.”

“I’m mad at you because I love you,” Aelin said. “Because I want to be with you forever, and the idea of four years apart makes me want to cry.”

“Please don’t cry,” Rowan said, but it was too late. Tears had started falling down Aelin’s cheeks again. “We’re going to be together forever. We are,” Rowan insisted. “No matter what. Forever." Aelin nodded through her sniffles, feeling overwhelmed and a little stupid at her outburst. "Can I kiss it better?” Rowan asked, rubbing his nose against hers.

Aelin sniffed loudly, laughing at the feel of his nose poking at her. “Only if you take your sweatshirts back and make them smell like you again,” Aelin said.

His answering smile was blinding, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared as he moved his mouth to hers. Ready to kiss it better.

She accepted his kisses readily, letting his arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. He had to duck down to reach her mouth, and she had to tilt her head to the sky, but no matter what, kissing Rowan always felt like a soothing balm on her weary soul. His lips healed her aches and bruises, the cracked edges of her anger and sadness smoothing over with each caress of his tongue against hers. They stood there, kissing until Aelin’s tears dried and a new ache formed in her chest – one of longing and hunger. Her hands played with the ends of his hair, relishing in the sounds that came out of his mouth, tugging him tighter, and refusing to let him go until they were startled by the loud sound of Rhoe’s boot stomping up the stairs.

They parted quickly, wiping at their mouths and faces as Rhoe appeared in the open doorway.

“It’s late,” was all Rhoe said. But Rowan understood.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rowan asked, and Aelin nodded, the small tendril of sadness sneaking its way back out as he stepped away from her. As if he could sense it, he leaned back in and kissed her again, not caring that Rhoe was standing right there. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Aelin countered.

“Impossible,” Rowan said, kissing Aelin again until Rhoe was forced to clear his throat loudly.

“She kissed your picture goodnight every night you were gone,” Rhoe said, trying to hide his own smile beneath his hand.

“DAD!” Aelin’s cheeks heated as Rowan’s face lit up.

“Me too,” he said, smiling as he said it. As he was turning to leave, Aelin remembered the bag in her closet and ran to grab it.

“Wait!” she exclaimed, shoving the bag full of hoodies back at him. “You know what to do,” she said, lifting herself up on her toes to kiss him one last time and wrapping his hand around the bag’s handle.

“Goodnight, Rowan,” Rhoe laughed.

Aelin sighed loudly and collapsed onto her bed as Rowan made his way downstairs, and she couldn’t help but smile as her phone lit up with a text from her boyfriend before he even pulled out of her driveway.

Forever, Ace. We’ll figure it out.

The bed dipped beside her as Rhoe sat and turned toward her, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Want to tell me what that was all about?”

“No?”

But Rhoe wasn’t letting her off the hook anymore. He’d endured the weirdness downstairs, and then she was sure he heard them shouting. She was sure he was dying to know what was going on between them, especially since they parted with kind kisses and flushed faces.

Aelin groaned as she fell back onto her pillow, but she couldn’t help but smile as she smelled faint traces of Rowan’s bodywash there. Yeah. She’d missed that scent, too.

“Fireheart?” her dad asked, poking at her side.

“It’s nothing,” Aelin said, propping herself up onto her elbows.

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Rhoe replied, raising an eyebrow. Fuck. Aelin knew he’d heard the shouting from downstairs. She’d hoped the television would drown them out, but of course it hadn’t.

“Rowan is going to Wendlyn.”

“I know,” Rhoe said. “Pretty awesome, right?”

“Yeah,” Aelin sighed. “Awesome.”

“Or, not awesome?” he prodded. Aelin collapsed back to the bed, staring at the ceiling as she unloaded onto her dad.

“Awesome for him, for sure. Not so awesome for me, who definitely can’t get into that school.”

“Says who?” Rhoe asked.

Aelin chuckled without humor. “Um, everyone? We’ve had two valedictorians get rejected from there. Somehow I don’t think little old me with my A’s and B’s is going.”

“Hmm,” was all Rhoe said.

And nothing else.

Aelin couldn’t stand it. She sat back up and looked at her dad, who was staring at her thoughtfully. “What?” she asked.

He shrugged and shook his head, rubbing his hand against his beard which desperately needed to be shaved.

“I just didn’t expect you to be such a defeatist,” Rhoe said. “I thought you were a fighter, who liked a challenge.”

“There’s a difference between liking a challenge and being delusional, dad,” Aelin said with a scoff, but his sentiment prickled at her skin.

“I don’t know about that, Fireheart.” He paused. “I don’t think it’s delusional to try. What happened to the girl who refused to go to sleep until she learned the top hundred most difficult words to spell?”

“She was ten, and she didn’t even make it past the first round of the spelling bee because she forgot tomorrow has only one ‘m’ in it.”

That brought a wide smile to her dad’s face. “Yeah, but you were so driven. Still are.” He laughed. “You’ve always been an overachiever. Weren’t you the only junior in a senior math class last year?”

“Yes…” Aelin admitted. She was good at math. She always had been. This year she’d be taking an Advanced Placement calculus class, and she didn’t know who else would even be in it.

“The only thing you’ve ever wanted I’ve seen you not go for… is Rowan.”

That made Aelin pause. It was true. She usually had no problem shooting for the moon, but when it came to Rowan, she suddenly questioned everything about herself. She thought she’d outgrown that insecurity, but at the mention of his college admission, it came rushing back to her. Could she actively squash that insecurity? She didn’t know.

“So,” Rhoe continued, “what would you need to do to be a competitive applicant to Wendlyn?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Aelin couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but her dad nodded. “Okay, well… I’d probably have to make my course load way harder, to weight my GPA. And I’d need to get A’s in all of them. And I don’t even know if it’s too late to do that.”

The edge of Rhoe’s lips curled into a small smile. “Okay, well, let’s say it’s not, and you do that. What else?”

“I’d need a direction. Something to make me stand out. An extracurricular or volunteer work or a job, or all three that all tied together somehow.”

“Last I heard, Petrah was begging you to come back and take more classes. Think she might have a job for you, too?” he asked, and suddenly Aelin’s mind was reeling with possibilities. She wanted to temper her excitement, though. She couldn’t just assume she could make this happen.

“Lots of kids dance, dad,” she said.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I doubt many of them learned all of Clara’s choreography in sixth grade just in case the understudy and Clara were both sick.” That made Aelin laughed. She remembered practicing the twirls in the studio, following along the choreography until she knew it just as well as her snowflake dance. “You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take,” Rhoe finally said.

“That was cheesy, Dad.”

But she was smiling. He was right. Maybe it wasn’t likely that she’d get into Wendlyn. Hell, it was the longest shot she could possibly imagine. But she had to try. Not just for Rowan, but for her, too.

“Alright, what else?” Rhoe asked, and Aelin got out her journal, ready to make a list of everything she needed to do to try and hold onto her dream. She wasn’t willing to let it slip away. Not yet.

~*~

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter one)

SERIES SUMMARY: the most powerful inferni alive, raised to see herself as a god-in-the-making, the bastard of the barrel and his team, and a shadow summoner with a common goal. What could go wrong? The giant mass of darkness known as the shadow fold and y/n’s sense of humor. 

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Y/n is sent to hustle the Crow Club. Technically it’s not cheating, but Kaz Brekker isn’t the type to let people off on technicalities alone. Especially when the one that committed the offense could help him earn 1 million kruge. 

a/n just a little something based on the show bc IM OBSESSED :)) --I’m planning on making this a series so if you want to be tagged let me know :)

The candles flicker as Kenya's palm makes contact with my face. I used to cry after he hit me; I used to run to Anya’s room for comfort and my energy would became so irritated I snuffed out all the candles in the church. Now, I just stand there. You get punished worse for showing fear. Gods fear nothing, and that’s what he wants from us--to turn into Gods so that the heavens will owe him. 

“You risk us again and again!” 

The yelling is worse than the stinging of the slap. I make a point of keeping my palms flat; the candles of the room flicker as if feeling my restraint. “Watch yourself or the tidemaker you’re so fond of will feel my wrath instead of you. At least when I bruise his face it doesn’t cost me a night of revenue.” 

I want to point out that the men I trick in the pleasure district don’t care about bruises, but the reminder of Jace has me frozen in place. Jace is good. He doesn’t deserve this treatment. “It won’t happen again, Father Kenya.” 

He nods once, unsatisfied but growing bored. “Disappear from my sight before my flesh wins and I forget to show you mercy.” Kenya turns sharply, watching Anya’s stoic expression. “Anya--we’re in need of funding, take these coins and triple it by morning.” 

Anya’s lips part; I shake my head once, a subtle plea for her silence. “Father Kenya, y/n’s the most talented card player we have--if she comes with us we can bring five times what you’re going to give us.” 

The promise Anya makes is that of a fool, but I know I’m capable of it. People are easy to read when they’re drunk, they’re easy to trick and lie to. And drunk people exude the clearest energy, something about their bluffing is as tangible as fog to me. 

Kenya squeezes the drawstring bag between his violent fingers. He loathes me more than the others. He expects more from me. He’d lock me in the cellar if he could afford to. But he can’t--he knows what I’m capable of. 

“Go somewhere in the Barrel--somewhere that doesn’t ask questions if the money is good.” Kenya looks at me, the bruises on my arms and cheeks. “Clean yourself up beforehand.” 

I nod once, stomach rolling at the thought of going out and knotting at the thought of staying here. I keep my steps even as I approach Anya, grateful for the excuse to disappear behind the chapel’s doors. 

----

This club is louder than most, boisterous men drinking constantly, slurring their words and leaning over bars. I only smile when someone’s looking, tugging on the dress Anya picked for me subconsciously. 

“Relax, y/n,” Anya hums, “Men don’t understand they’re being hustled when someone pretty is the one swindling them, and you look hot.” 

A particularly drunk man walks by slowly, eyes reflecting no shame as he blatantly rakes his gaze down my form. I shift uneasily. “That might be the problem.” 

She tilts her head back, gaze focusing on the crow marking etched into the back wall of the club. A very strange and consistent crow theme in here. “Maybe you should keep the dress on until you run into Jace.” 

The mention of Jace in that context leaves my face warm. “Wha--what?” Great. I’m sputtering. “Shut up!” 

She laughs easily, “I’m only teasing--he’d probably ta--” 

“Anya!” 

Again, her laugh is loud and bright. “Kidding!” Before I can scorch her, she nods her head towards a gambling table. “An open seat--go, you know Kenya’ll have our heads if we don’t multiply this,” she tosses me the drawstring bag, I catch it awkwardly, “By five.” 

There are a lot of things I’ve ruined--but I never mess up when it comes to gambling. We’re all entitled to our talents and mine are destruction and trickery. “I’ll have six times this amount before midnight.” 

A little cocky, but it’s well deserved. I stroll up to the table easily, comforted by the fact that Anya’s only a few feet away. 

“You’re playing this round?” 

I smile politely, used to this kind of hesitance. “I think I’d like to try it.” The mock-hesitance in my voice burns coming up, but the dumber I seem the faster I make up my money. The rest of the participants snicker. Expected. I’m going to enjoy taking their money. “I can pay if that’s the issue.”

The sound of me fishing through the small bag of golden coins silences the men at a table. The man closest to me, the one with smooth brown skin and a smile I imagine has convinced many people to play into sins for him, leans forward slightly. I let him peek at the coins, the more they want my money the more they’ll believe my lies. 

“How much to enter?” 

A tall man snorts. I fight back the urge to glare. 

“Three of those coins should do.” The boy next to me is decent enough to answer. I’ll steal from him least. “I’m Jesper.” 

I’ve been to enough clubs to know when a man is attempting to find company for the night. I hope the playful niceness I see in him is real. “Kamil.” My sister’s name is salt water on my tongue. 

The first game is easy enough to throw. The second, I have to work at a little more--their smugness is killing me. I pretend to be ready to step away from the table.

“Where are you going?” 

I shrug at the stranger. “I shouldn’t lose any more money, my father won’t be happy with me as it is.” 

The stranger leans forward, glancing at his chips. “We don’t want a girl like you in trouble at home--why don’t we up the stakes? You win this next hand, and you’ll win double what I did.” He pauses, eyeing my drawstring bag, “Of course--you’ll have to be willing to risk a matching sum.” 

Awful odds. “Deep odds,” Jesper mumbles, “Consider cutting your losses.”

Jesper is a better person than the other men here. I almost feel bad he’s going to be losing any money. “One more game won’t kill me,” I smile as politely as I can manage, “Besides--my luck could be about to change and I’d never know.” 

I hand the coins over to the dealer. I watch as the money is shuffled onto the center of the table, suppressing the grin of someone about to release her killshot. Ten minutes later, I’ve doubled what I’ve lost. The man who upped the bet is gaping, Jesper’s expression has shifted entirely, and everyone’s staring at me like I’ve shifted into another person entirely. 

“Wow--luck really does change quickly here.” I’ve hooked them. They’ll want to play again, to prove that my victory was a fluke. “Do you guys want to play again? It only seems fair I give you a chance to win back everything you just lost since you did the same for me.” 

Everyone’s quick to agree, but I’m quicker to win the second round. Some men look murderous, some look ready to play again, their egos incapable of handling defeat at my hands. 

“You came in with a surprising amount of coins,” Jesper muses, reaching over to pick up a piece of gold that rolled towards him, “I hate to accuse you of counterfeiting, but one has to wonder.” 

Typical. “I swear my money’s real.” 

“Real money can take a bullet…” Is he going to shoot it...in doors? Jesper tosses the coin easily, letting it flip in the air before taking out a pistol and shooting it dead center in a movement so casually fluid and deadly I’m taken back. 

The coin clatters onto the table, the bullet embedded into the precious metal. I eye it cautiously, beyond relieved that Kenya at least doesn’t lie. “T-told you.” 

His eyebrows narrow as he reholsters his pistol. “About that, I guess you did.” 

Jesper’s skepticism is a red flag. I need to get out of here before my winnings are taken from me and Kenya kills me or Jace for my failure. “I didn’t take you for such a sore loser.” 

Before Jesper can respond, something black raps against the table once. “What did I tell you about loud noises at the table?” 

Jesper’s gaze leaves mine immediately. “Sorry boss, just checking a swindler.” 

He--he knows. I blink twice, forcing surprise to color my features. “Swindler?” I look between him and the man he called his boss. “N--no, it was just--luck. I played a hand, I lost some money, I played again and I won some money. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” 

“You only started winning after the stakes were raised--I’ve seen that tactic before and it’s not appreciated here.” 

I swallow once, a pinch of dread making its way through my stomach. He had shot that coin with no hesitation--I didn’t even see him click off the safety. How dangerous is the man at my table? How dangerous is his boss? Everyone seemed to straighten at the sight of the stranger with the cane. 

“There was no tactic--it was a game.” 

The man I don’t know tears his gaze away from Jesper. “Someone like you shouldn’t even be here.” 

He has a point--my demeanor doesn’t exactly scream someone who frequents establishments at the Barrel during the night. “I’m only here to keep my friend out of trouble.” A fair enough response. “And I played a game and someone can’t handle a loss.”

“You should have seen her bluff, I’ve met professional thieves that lie less fluently than her.” 

At Jesper’s words, the stranger’s grip around his cane tightens. I imagine that beneath his gloves, the color of marred souls, his knuckles are white. “Who do you work for? Who sent a girl to invade my business?” 

Who do I work for? No one that has any business with him. “What?” How self absorbed can one man be? 

“If playing the fool didn’t get you through a card game--don’t think it will get you through this.” 

What? Before I can question him, Anya grabs my shoulder, pulling me so that there’s a safer distance between me and the man. 

“You’re an idiot,” her whisper is pointed, directed solely at me. “Of course you’d find trouble with Dirtyhands.” Did I hear that correctly? Dirtyhands--as in the Dirtyhands? I stare at her, eyes wide. How had I been so stupid? I should have recognized him from his gloves alone. Anya turns her head towards them. “We don’t want any trouble--forgive my friend, she’s not a spy she’s just an oblivious idiot.” 

“Rude.” 

She throws me a glare. “But she did win.” The money isn’t worth the trouble we’ll find trying to keep it but Kenya’s words follow us wherever we go. “We’ll take what we earned and never come back.” 

“I don’t concede often.” 

I reach for Anya’s arm, brushing her forearm in hopes of telling her things will be okay. Kaz Brekker may be feared, but we’re gods in the making. “Neither do we.”

He seems to want to play at an odd, power-filled standstill, but Anya and I are more desperate than him. Anya leans forward, ready to take the money from the table, but the unidentified man who upped the stakes earlier is quick to grab her forearm. 

“I don’t take losses, little girl.”

Anya. I can only imagine the horror she feels when a strange man touches her. Screw precaution. “Is that money worth burning for?” 

“Y/n.” Anya’s warning comes out low; Jesper raises an eyebrow. I guess being Kamil was short lived. 

“Excuse me?” 

The man will not intimidate me. Fear is a crutch men use to keep women in check. “You heard my question.” I hold up my hand, releasing enough energy to develop a flame in my palm. “And if your answer is ‘no’, I suggest you release my friend before your body is nothing more than a pile of ash your own mother wouldn’t even be able to identify.” 

The stranger blinks, touches the gun on his hip, and then releases Anya’s arm. 

“You can’t come into my club, hustle money away from my men, and walk away unscathed because you’re a grisha.” 

Words cannot express how badly I do not want to speak to Kaz Brekker at any point in my life. His grip on his cane is a silent warning--a threat. But what is a man’s threat to a girl that’s meant to be a god? “You can kill me but I’ll use my dying breath to burn this entire building.” I’ve publicly backed him into a corner--I’m insane. 

Dirtyhands opens his mouth to reply, anyone within earshot holding on for his next words. Anya yanks me back as the sound of something explosive interrupts the room. A bullet flies past directly where I was standing and strikes the wall behind me. Anya just saved my life. Someone just shot at me. 

“Y/n, do you think it’s--” 

“No.” It can’t be. There’s no way a soldier found me again. “It can’t be--we were--we’ve been careful--and Kenya said they wouldn’t look for me--that he purchased me fully.” 

A man is moving through the crowd. A blue kefta. No. No. 

Not here. Not now.

And why are they shooting at me? “Anya,” I breathe out as cautiously as possible, “Run and no matter what don’t turn around.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” 

Anya. Always the older sister. “They don’t want you--they want me.” 

“You’re not a real Sun Summoner--it’s suicide for you.” 

I don’t have the heart to tell Anya I don’t particularly care about my life. It’s never truly been mine anyway. “I’ll make it out.” 

“You’re an inferni, not a miracle worker.” 

My lips pull into an odd sort of grimace. The gentle kind one hopes is mistaken for a smile. “I thought we were meant to be gods.” 

“A god can’t do what they want from you.” She mumbles. “So you’re capable of producing more fire than most--it’s not the same as creating light. It doesn’t matter how many drugs they pump into you it’s--” 

I shake my head once, “Anya--go.” 

“They want you to play Sun Summoner.” Dirtyhand’s tone is too smooth to trust. I know when someone’s trying to sell dreams that don’t exist. “The way they’ll have you do it will cost you, but the way I’ll have you do it will be practically painless.”

Is he always this confusing? “What?” 

The question is an irritation, that’s apparent in the cold tint that takes over his practically blank expression. “I need a Sun Summoner for a business deal--and lucky for you I’m out of time.” 

“You don’t want to work with me.” 

“No,” his voice is dismissive, he didn’t understand I meant that as a warning, “But I need to have some form of mass light before sunrise.” 

“The man I’m indentured to will never go for it.” Proposing such an idea would leave me with a broken rib again. 

Dirtyhands nods once, a vague acknowledgement. “That’s not your problem.” I keep my jaw set, scanning at the crowd for a flash of that blue kefta. “After all, it wasn’t his problem when he hurt you.” 

I had been careful to hide the bruises. The reminders of my humanity. My weaknesses, my failures, written onto my skin in purple and blue ink. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I didn’t until I got that reaction.” I’ve never so quickly felt the need to loathe someone. “It was easy enough to assume--young girl, desperate for money, a grisha powerful enough to be hunted down.” 

Is that supposed to be some sort of consolation? “My freedom would never come so easily.” 

“It wouldn’t be freedom--you’d owe me more than you already do for the kruge scam.” 

I swallow before I can make the mistake of telling him I’d consider any escape from Kenya freedom. “Close enough.” 

The grisha’s closer now, the light blue kefta so easy to spot amongst a sea of darkness. “You’re running out of time.” 

“Can you get my friend out?” 

“Y/n.” She can be mad for the rest of her life if she wants. 

He nods his head once. “She’ll be out the back before anyone knows she was even here.” 

“And she can take the money I won.” Maybe the income will be enough to spare her from Kenya’s wrath. “That’s a dealbreaker.” 

Kaz Brekker hesitates. It’s such a normal pause I almost think it’s a trap. “If she takes it there will be no way out for you--you will do what I ask even if it endangers your life.” 

“Y/n, it’s not worth it.” 

I don’t look at Anya. “You have my word.” 

“Y/n, I’m not taking anything and I’m not leaving you.” 

I finally turn. “Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot--it’s not in your nature and frankly it doesn’t suit you.” Acts of goodness towards me have always left me feeling raw. Too raw. Like I’m bleeding out. “Sorry, I just…” Anya’s eyes are soft. She knows. She always knows. “I’ll get through whatever it is he’s planning and I’ll come back.” I swallow once, nerve draining from my body slowly. “Take the money--Kenya will be angry enough as is.” 

Anya drops her gaze as she collects from the table. It takes me a moment longer than it should to recognize this is shameful for her. I consider telling her that she’s doing the right thing, but that would burn her heart more. 

“You’re my sister,” Anya’s voice is lower than it’s ever been, “I should have stopped him.” 

Her guilt hurts more than the bruises. “You were as hurt as me--you have nothing to feel guilty about.” 

This is already more emotion than we’re used to expressing when alone let alone around others. Anya stretches out an arm, squeezes my shoulder once, and then takes a step back. “I’ll see you again.” 

“Yes,” I nod once.

“Jesper, take the girl out the back.” Turning forward blankly, Kaz begins to speak to me, “Hide behind the bar--my wraith will find you and take you somewhere else.” 

“Y--you have a wraith?” And I thought Kenya was weird. He lets out a sigh. “Sorry. Not the time.” 

“Desperation leads to bad decisions.” 

Dramatic. “I agree.” 

His gaze falls on me, taking in my narrow-eyed glare. There’s a moment in which I think the left corner of his mouth twitches upwards, but then he turns his head again. A trick of the light. “Go before you’re found and I’m out the money I let your friend take.” 

Yes. I’m not exactly safe right now, but Kaz Brekker needs me for something. That means I will not be leaving this building. By force or willingly. 

Silently, I turn, melting into those in the crowd that are either oblivious or don’t care enough to react to the cat and mouse game I’m currently in. When I reach the bar, I’m quick to duck behind it, pressing my back against shelves of alcohol. 

[goddessesofeverything]

Of Ice Cream and Lights

A/N: This is a fic based within the universe of @tri3tri where the reader and Yandere!Malleus have a son, Lucien, who is starved for affection from the reader. So...I wrote a story in which the reader is transported from a different universe that has a loving relationship with both Malleus and Lucien. Thank you to Tri for letting me use her characters for this fic! Please check out her other works!  

Tagging: @tri3tri

Yandere!Malleus x Fem!Reader ft. Lucien 

You woke up and immediately opened your eyes to a familiar sight. The sight of you and your husband’s bedroom. The space next to yours was empty. To be expected, of course, Malleus had so many duties as King of the Valley of Thorns after all.

You slid the covers off and lept out of bed, ready to start the day yourself. 

Searching through the hallways, you attempted to locate the wayward Lilia to ask him about the latest reports of Lucien’s studies in magic. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Lucien hiding behind the wall. You turned to the hiding boy and bent down with a smile on your face. “What are you doing hiding over there? I’m not that scary am I?” 

Lucien ducks further behind the wall, uncertain if this was a trick or not. You frown internally at his hesitancy to approach you. Usually Lucien would come running into your arms as soon as he spotted you. Drawing slightly closer, you whisper to him, “Are you playing hide and seek with Lilia? Is that why you’re hiding?”

Lucien blinked and glanced behind himself to see if you were talking to someone behind him but there wasn’t anyone there. He didn’t know what to do about this development. You were smiling at him. You were speaking to him playfully. There was a warmth to your eyes looking at him that was never present before. But if you were speaking to him, he knew he should answer before the opportunity was lost. He quickly shook his head.

“In that case, can I get my good morning hug now?” You spread your arms and he bounded over to you as fast as possible. Little arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, face burrowed in your chest and hands fisting the fabric of the back of your dress. You set your arms around his trembling form, soothing whispers leaving your lips. “Did you have another nightmare last night?” 

Lucien shook his head against you and burrowed deeper into your embrace. This. This was the contact that he had been craving so much from you.  

You readjusted your grip in order to scoop him up so that you could carry him. You rest him against your hip before running your fingers through his hair. You placed a kiss to his forehead and his horns before gently lifting his face to look at yours. 

Lucien had tears running down his eyes and he sniffled when you had him pull away. 

“What’s the matter, my little dragon prince? What do you need?”

Lucien ducked his head down and bit his lip. What if you turn cold again if he asks for you to do this? If he risks your anger, would you notice him more? He quickly glances up at you again to see patient eyes and a smile still on your face. Lucien pulled at the fabric that remained in his grip and tugged you back into the embrace. “Can you hug me more?”

“Of course, my little prince. Always…” you replied to him. You begin to rock side to side, bouncing him a little within your arms. You begin humming a little song as you card your fingers through his hair again. 

“Lucien?” you eventually say.

Lucien stiffened in your arms, waiting for the evitable moment that you’d let go, waiting for the coldness of your tone and face to make its reappearance. But it never came. Instead…

“Would you like to help me make some ice cream for your father? He’s been incredibly busy lately and I think this would be a nice surprise for him. What do you think?”

Lucien’s head shoots up from your chest, nearly knocking into your chin if not for your built reflexes from all the times you’ve dodged his head before. 

“Yes, please!” Lucien practically shaking from the possibility of helping you with anything. Not to mention, you were talking about father! You were talking about making a gift for him! 

You giggle at Lucien’s bright eyes and newfound energy. Often, you would have to distract your son from nightmares/memories of them and one of the best ways was to cook or bake something. Lilia would have to be kept from the kitchen though. Before anything else, you needed to locate the bat first. 

Shifting Lucien for a better grip, you found yourself nearly colliding with Sebek. “Your majesty!” Sebek immediately launched back before you two could make contact.

“Oh good! Sebek! Would you happen to know where Lilia is? I would like to have a word with him.” You smile at Sebek’s sputtering. It reminded you of all the times he would first get shocked from how casually you addressed Malleus. You waited for his sputtering to slow before addressing him again.  

“Can you please tell Lilia to meet us in the dining room? I would like to speak to him for a moment.” Heaving Lucien up into a better grip, you head off to the dining room. Along the way, you could hear the whispers of the passing servants wherever you went. It was no secret that the servants would love to gossip but it seemed that they were in more of a buzz than usual. You’ve since learned to tune out the chatter of the crowd. 

Soon, you were met with the smiling face of Lilia, himself. He eyes your hold over Lucien before facing your beaming face. 

“Good morning Lilia,” you greeted. “Can you please keep Malleus busy for me? I would like to surprise him with some homemade ice cream and…” you bend to conspiratorially to whisper in Lilia’s ear, “I believe it would be a great way to distract Lucien from his nightmares. I think he’s having some again.”

Lilia’s smile grew wider at your plans. If you were acknowledging your son and making Malleus a gift, this surely needed to be nurtured. Best to let you do as you pleased. Lilia could sense there was something different about you. A sort of magic that made you seem brighter than before. Making a mental note of it, Lilia only bowed and teased, “I’ll be sure to keep the King occupied, your majesty.” 

A nod of your head towards Lilia and you headed straight for the kitchen. While you had to let Lucien down, this was easier said than done. Lucien would not let go of you so you were stuck with a clingy dragon prince latched to your dress and face burrowed into your neck. 

“Lucien? Sweetie, I need to set you down now. We have to make Papa’s ice cream.” 

Lucien whimpered. You held longer than any other time he’s ever interacted with you and he was frightened that you’d never touch him again if he lets you go now. He’s had a taste of your warmth and affection and he was not going to lose it now. So, he takes what you’ve said about nightmares and uses it to his advantage. 

“Mama, I’m scared. You might go away like in the dreams…” Tears roll down his eyes and soak your dress once more. 

“My precious boy. You don’t ever have to worry. I’m here. I’m right here.” You stroked his head and kissed the top of it, right between his horns. “Mama is here. Mama loves you. So much. Daddy loves you too. We will never leave you.”

You set him on the counter before gently patting his cheeks with a handkerchief. Lucien’s hand still holding onto the sleeve of your gown.  

With tears still running down his face, you kissed his cheeks and wiped away the tears as best you could. “No matter what happens, Mama and Papa will always love you, okay?” You kiss his forehead and his cheeks before resting your forehead against his. 

Eventually, you had to pull away. Lucien let go. He knew if he pushed too hard, you might not hug him again. With a smile and another kiss to his forehead, you patted his cheeks with the handkerchief once more. You promised you’d be right back and Lucien released his hold on you. 

Flitting around the kitchen, you located all the ingredients and equipment necessary for the construction of the frozen treat. Everything laid out behind Lucien, you approached him once more and urged him to scoot closer to the ingredients. 

“It’s high time we made something new. Do you want to make mint chocolate chip ice cream for your father?” You grinned at Lucien as he nodded his head as fast as possible. 

“Yes, please!” 

You both set on your mission to make ice cream for Malleus. 

Throughout the entire process, you constantly looked over to Lucien and did your best to make him laugh. Tickling him, telling jokes, making funny faces, smearing some butter onto his face. Whatever it took to bring out that smile you loved. 

Lucien couldn’t believe the luck he had. His mother’s entire attention was on him and only him. Your focus and little actions of affection was everything. There wasn’t any other thing that could make this moment any better unless it was his father being there with them. 

Speaking of his father, Malleus had heard from Lilia of an unprecedented sight. 

Obviously, the king had to see for himself what Lilia had reported to him.

His wife, the constantly indifferent queen, was smiling and holding Lucien in her arms as if she’d been doing it her entire life. 

Having heard the squeals of delight and the unabashed laughter ringing through the halls, Malleus felt his entire being tremble from the sound. 

A sound that you haven’t made since your days at NRC. 

Malleus’s stealth was something to be desired at this time. His entire focus on that sweet sound he always wished to hear. It mattered not how long it had been, he will forever savor the chance to hear you happy once more. 

Peeking his head through the open doorway, he was greeted with the sight of his beloved with his son, smiling. There was no trace of the usual blankness that would typically paint your face. You were back, his bright light. 

Lucien spotted him first. Putting a finger to his lips, Malleus tiptoed his way to you. Your back was turned to the door as you continue to pour chocolate chips into your latest mixture. You were enchanting Lucien with tales of your youth so the sound covered Malleus’s approach. 

Malleus wrapped his arms around your waist and dropped a kiss on your neck. Brushing your ear with his cheek, he leaned over you to wink at his son. 

“Malleus!” You smiled and swatted at his arms with playful indignation. “You weren’t supposed to come down here yet. We were going to surprise you.”

“How could I not join? You were so beautiful and happy.” Malleus breathed in your scent, content in this moment in time. You weren’t squirming away nor leaning as far as possible without being impolite. On the contrary, you were leaning into his embrace. Going as far to caress his cheek with your smooth hands. 

Malleus melts at your loving touch. It draws out the deep, possessive purr from deep within his soul. 

With your smile at Lucien and your affection for Malleus saturating the air, he knew he would do whatever it took to keep you here. In this moment, in his hold, you would remain. However, it seems as if you’ve accepted your place by his side. 

And you, completely oblivious to the danger that surrounded you, hummed as you danced to grab the first batch of ice cream chilled in the freezer. 

Giving Malleus a kiss on the cheek and blowing a raspberry into Lucien’s, you set down the mint chocolate chip ice cream and produced three spoons. Father and son battling to be the first to spoon to dip into the luscious treat. Made by your hands, it was the best dessert ever. 

You giggle before scooping up some of the fruits of your labor yourself, unaware of the eyes that followed your every movement. 

In the quiet space of the kitchen, a family came a little closer together. 

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (I)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: Thank you for being patient with me as I slowly write this series. I had this idea a long time ago and I’m not finding motivation to write it but the inspiration comes and go. I smile with every comment that is left on my fics and I’m so grateful for this community. Thank you for letting me pursue my creative writing without judgement. Love you guys! (Also, yes. If you didn’t see my last note, I based YN’s family off of the Gilmore Girls characters. That’s who I picture as them.)

Word Count: 8k

 Masterlist   Prologue 

You wake up to someone falling on your bed next to you with a dramatic sigh. Knowing exactly who it is, you choose to ignore her and try getting back to the dreamless sleep you were peacefully having before you woke up.

That is, until she sighs again. 

You flip onto your back and stare up at your ceiling fan that’s quickly spinning above you. “What, Rory?”

“How did it go with Andre and that boy?”

You look at her with one brow raised. “You woke me up to hear about Andre’s love life? That hardly sounds like you. You don’t care about high school drama or hookups.”

“You’re right,” Rory says. “But I thought I would ease you into what I actually need to tell you.”

You turn on right side and look at your sister confused. “What?”

She sighs. “The cafe’s basement flooded last night. Mom needs us there to help her clean up and take inventory on what’s salvageable.”

You turn back on you backside and close your eyes, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Rory says and pats you twice on your covered thigh as she sits up. “Come on. I made you pre-cafe coffee. It’s sitting in the kitchen.”

You throw your sheets off of you and trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face. It’s about 8 a.m. At least you were able to get about six hours of sleep. 

Last night, it was hard to let your brain rest to fall asleep. You kept tossing and turning, thinking about the blonde Pogue who walked you home. You missed how easy it was to talk to someone who you felt truly knew you. Your banter rolled off your tongue easily and you never had to worry about offending him because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew what he could take and what he couldn't. 

Talking to him brought back childhood memories you had hidden deep in your mind. How JJ would constantly poke you until you ripped into a smile on days that were grey. How you used to steal John B’s bandanas until he was chasing you around his house to get them back. How you would draw a mustache and a unibrow on Pope’s face when he fell asleep by the water. 

Those days felt like they were decades ago. So far away, you didn’t know if you’d be able to reach for them again. If it was even possible to get back. 

You thought about texting him. Thanks for walking me back. We should all get together soon! You had written out. But then you deleted the whole message, telling yourself it was because you didn’t know if he even had the same number. But deep down, you were just afraid of the rejection. 

Its been about three years since the four of you had been together in one place. You don’t know what they’ve been through or if they’ve changed. They for sure as hell don’t know what you’ve been through. You don’t know if they're dynamic has changed. Clearly you and JJ can still joke with each other but what about John B and Pope? You heard about John B’s father disappearing at sea, most people believing he’s dead, but John B holding onto hope that’s he’s alive. You always thought about calling him to reach out and offer your condolences. But for the same reason you didn’t text JJ, you never called. It didn’t feel like your place. They had Kie for that now. A little part of you felt jealous of her, like she had replaced you and any memory of you. She seemed nice, but she wasn’t you.

“Ready?” Rory pops her head in to your room as you slip on a cropped plain white zip up jacket over your cropped black tank. 

“As I’ll ever be,” You say and snag the car keys out of her hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I want to get there safely.”

“And I want to get there quickly.”

“Fine. But we’re taking my car. It actually has doors.”

For your sixteenth birthday, your grandparents gifted both you and Rory your own individual cars and even let you pick them out. Rory chose a black 2020 Honda Civic for it’s safety features and reputation for longevity as if she was planning on handing it down to her future kids. And you picked out a white 2020 Jeep Wrangler with a hard top that pops off along with the doors for a very open and thrilling ride. Everyone but you called it a death trap, but you found it to be the perfect summer car. 

You park Rory’s boring Honda Civic in the back of the cafe in a lot used specifically for employees. The cafe is already booming with teens and families, waiting for their morning coffees and fresh pastries. Kids your age are running around behind the counter with sweat dripping down their brow bone to get everyone’s orders out in a timely manner. 

In the back of the store, your mom walks up the steps from the basement with two large trash bags and immediately notices the two of you. “Oh good. You’re here. Rory, help the girls behind the counter. The dishwasher’s broken and poor Hailey is hand washing everything. Y/N, come with me downstairs.”

“Why does Rory get the fun job?” You grumble and follow your mom back downstairs after she tosses the two trash bags. 

“Because she’s actually nice to the customers.”

“Treat others how you would like to be treated. Isn’t that what everyone always says?” You smirk. You never agreed with the phrase ‘the customer is always right.’ It’s complete bullshit and being the employee shouldn’t mean letting yourself getting verbally abused by a ‘Karen’ on the other side of the counter. 

The basement is used for the cafe’s storage, lined with wooden shelves Steve put together that hold to go cups, back up espresso machines, boxes of coffee and food and ingredients, etc. Now all the boxes are dark and sopping, creating puddles on the concrete floor. 

“Oh my god. Mom. How did this happen?”

“Jenky water pipe busted in the middle of the night,” Steve walks down the stairs and passes your mom a knowing look. It didn’t surprise you that he was here. He’s the jack of all trades. Owns his own automotive shop, builds a lot of his own furniture, actually cooks a decent meal, and has the same outlook on customer service as you do. He was probably your mom’s first call. “Talked to the plumber. They can’t get here until at least noon.”

“Noon? We’ll be underwater by noon. I might as well turn all my employees into a swim team,” Your mom says.

Steve shakes his head. “I was able to hold the leak until he gets here. You should be fine.”

Steve was the first person that actually helped your mother out when's she moved to the Cut. Six months pregnant, she pushed her car into his automotive shop after it broke down on the side of the road. Their banter was similar to the one you and JJ have. He helped save your mom money by building yours and Rory’s cribs, changing table, and dressers. And ever since, the two of them had been connected by the hip, although they both refuse to admit it. You think the pair are just trying to deny the love they clearly share for each other. And you think the main reason for that is because of the incident four years ago with your mom’s ex boyfriend. No thanks to you.

 “Look at you constantly building your resume,” You smirk at him. 

Steve scoffs. “It’s more than what you’re doing.”

You roll your eyes. Steve is the closest thing you have to a father. He practically helped raise you with your mom. He’s the one you turn to whenever a fight with your mom goes too far, which isn't too often but it happens. He usually lets you stay at his house for the night to let you cool off. But he’ll never sugar coat his advice when it comes time for him to give it. Even if you don’t ask for it. He knows growing up with Rory has been challenging. She was clearly your mom’s favorite, or at least that’s what you thought. She has a 4.0 GPA with a realistic dream to get into Brown University and study journalism. She played by every rule, never got into trouble, and spent most of her free nights getting ahead of her school work or staying late at the cafe with an open book from the library across the street. She was an absolute angel to everyone else, making you look like her evil twin. 

You glare at him before turning to your mom with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

“Actually honey. Can you go to Heywards and grab more coffee filters and napkins. The water soaked right through the plastic wrapping on our last box.”

You nod, leaving your mom and Steve to clean up the basement themselves. Before heading out, you sneak behind the counter and make yourself a quick coffee to go.

“Where you going?” Rory asks as she reaches behind you to grab a banana for her customer at the register.

“Heywards to grab a couple things for Mom.”

“Oh. Make sure to grab toilet paper while you’re out. I think we’re almost out of it.”

“Got it.” 

Heywards is only a short drive from your mom’s cafe. It’s the closest convenient store that isn’t crazy pricey. It’s where your mom gets all her supplies whenever she runs out of things before shipment gets there. 

You use to always come here when you were younger with the boys, each of you, even Pope, stealing a small bag of chips or a candy bar here and there. Little did any of you know, Mr. Heyward caught your thieving hands every time but never said anything. 

The bell above the door chimes when you walk into the store. You know this place as well as you know the cafe, finding the toilet paper and coffee filter immediately. 

When Mr. Heyward looks up from the counter, his smile grows. He can pick you out of a crowd anywhere, but he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Last time he saw you, you had braces and overgrown bushy brows. Now you had bushed hair and shaved legs. 

“Hi. Mr. Heyward,” You grin shyly at him. You don’t know how he’s going to react to see you, unsure of what Pope might have told him about you. 

“Little Miss Y/L/N? Is that you?” Heyward smiles widely, pulling your own lips into a wider smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and my mom’s cafe...” Both of those things were a lie. You just avoid the Cut to avoid the Pogues. 

“How’s the fam?” 

“They’re good,” You say as Heyward hands you your bags. “Mom says hello by the way. I’m actually taking these to her store now.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. We miss your smiling face around her. Anette, too.” Heyward says, mentioning his wife. 

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Of course, darling.” 

Heyward and Anette always had a special place in their heart for you and Rory. They’re not one for gossip, but they knew a little bit about what your mom’s been through and have heard plenty of stories about your grandparents. They always thought, despite your mom’s background, that you and your sister were raised impressively. Anette always hoped that one day Pope and Rory would get together. Everyone always wanted their child to be with Rory. 

As your about to leave the store, the bell chimes again with another customer. Only it’s not another customer. It’s Pope and John B. They don’t see you at first, and you wonder if maybe you can sneak out without them seeing you. But something about that felt wrong. Especially because Heyward would more than likely mention to them that you were here. 

Pope sees you first and stops in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” You smile at both of them. You bite down on your lip awkwardly when you meet John B’s stare. You don’t know if you should mention anything about his dad’s disappearance. But what would you say? Sorry? What good would that do?

“How’ve you been?” Pope gives you a small side hug, then John B. 

You shrug. “You know, living the dream.”

“How’s life as a Hybrid?” John B smirks. 

You roll your eyes playfully and groan. “Oh god. Never call me that again.”

You may be considered a Hybrid by everyone else, but you would never put yourself into that category. You grew up a Pogue, the same way everyone else did around you. The only thing tying you to the Kooks are your grandparents. 

“Why?” John B smirks. “I wish I was a Hybrid.”

You smirk back. “Maybe you will be one day. I hear you have a Kook of your own for arm candy.”

You saw a faint hint of blush on John B’s cheek at the mention of his girlfriend but you don’t mention it. “Sarah, yeah. She’s not like the other Kooks.”

“I would hope not. Her brother’s a dick.”

“Yeah,” They laugh. 

“We miss you, you know.” John B says. Pope looks at you, trying to read your expression. John B’s not wrong. They do all miss you, especially Pope. He felt like you were the only one who really understood him. Of course his other friends are great, but you actually took the time to try and understand his passions. Like forensic science. 

“I miss you guys too. It’s been a while.”

“Well, hey. We’re actually all getting together tonight at my place. Nothing big. Just a bonfire and a couple beers. You should stop by,” John B says.

“Yeah,” Pope says, immediately getting hopeful that you’ll show up. 

Your smile falters. The invite makes your heart swell and your lungs contract. It’s an invite you’ve been wanting for three years. And now that you have it, you don’t know what to say. It’d be different if it was just the four of you like old times. But now there’s Kie and Sarah and although you have nothing against them, you’re afraid they won’t accept you. The thought of your boys picking them over you terrifies you. 

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll try to swing by later.” 

Pope smiles wide and looks at his friend to see his reaction. John B grins and nods, almost impressed that you had agreed. But he saw the twitch in your lips when the question was asked. 

“Great. I guess we’ll see you later then.” 

You nod. “Okay. Bye guys.”

You suck in a deep breath when the fresh air outside of Heyward’s store brushes over you. Your heart thumps wildly with both excitement and nerves when you’re finally able to collect your thoughts. You don’t know what you’ll do tonight, but the possibilities can change your entire summer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You spent the rest of the day mopping up the cafe’s basement and rearranging the shelves. You smelled of sweat and coffee grounds by the time you were done and dreamt of the shower you would be taking when you got home. 

Rory drove you home after the two of you closed up the cafe for the day. Neither of you said much. Rory was exhausted from running around behind the counter and you were too busy thinking about whether you’d go back to the place you used to call your second home.

You took a longer shower than usual, still pondering what your night would be like. Your head was telling you to stay home but your heart pulled you in the direction of the Cut. You yearned to hear about what the future held for Pope, and listen to John B retell stories of when you were kids, and be able to stare into JJ’s bright blue eyes without him noticing. 

You changed into a pair of jean shorts and a plain red cropped tank. Rory walks into your room as your brushing out your hair and looks at you as if you lost your mind.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t wear that,” She says.

You brows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I wear shit like this all the time.”

“Not to the Country Club, you don’t.” That’s when it hits you. Today’s been so hectic, you forgot what day it was. “It’s Sunday.”

Sunday dinner at the Country Club is now a weekly commitment forced upon you by your grandparents. Each week, your mom, sister, and you are forced to spend one dinner with your grandma and grandpa. This is basically your mom’s payment back for sending you and Rory to Kook Academy. Only they actually pay for the dinner. It’s usually the longest two hours of your entire week. It’s hard to listen to your grandfather rant about Real Estate and your grandma slyly critique your mother in almost every aspect of her life. 

“Shit. I completely forgot,” You say.

“Well, you better change. We’re leaving in about five minutes,” Rory says then plucks a gold necklace from your dresser. “Oh and can I wear this tonight?”

You sigh. “Sure.”

You change into a baby blue wrap around dress and pin your wet hair into a half up half down due. It’s gonna have to work for the limited time you have to get ready. After applying a thin layer of makeup to look the least bit presentable, you meet your mom and sister by the front door.

“Finally,” Your mom says when she sees you. 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was Sunday.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just don’t think I can handle another late remark from Mom today.” She looks you up and down and grins. “You look great.”

Despite the many fiery fights you and your mom can have, she is also your best friend. It’s kind of like a love hate relationship. Steve says it’s because you’re exactly like your mom - almost like a sixteen year old version of her. 

You really hope that isn’t true. You’re not ready to have a kid in two years. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Your grandparents are already sitting at a round table in the corner of the country club by the two tall windows that reach up to the ceiling with a view looking out into the golf course. The best seat in the house for the richest a holes on the island. 

“Lorelai,” Your grandmother grins, but you can instantly tell it’s sarcastic. “Did you have to walk here?”

You speak up before your mom could. “Sorry Grandma. It’s my fault we’re late.”

Your grandparents are hard on your mom but easier on you and Rory, especially Rory.

“Well, you’re here now,” Your grandpa says. He’s usually the mediator between your mom and grandma. Although he’s usually sucks at it. “Sit. Sit.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, JJ shuffles through his many coworkers with his apron in one hand and a piece of fried calamari from Miss Carol’s appetizer in the other. 

“JJ -” She scolds and slaps his hand away from going in for a second piece. 

“Good evening Miss Carol,” JJ smirks and makes his way to the area between the kitchen and dining room where most of the servers and bust boys hang out. Some of the boys slap him on the back or shove him by the shoulder, chuckling to themselves. “What’s going on boys? Busy crowd?”

“What are you doing here? You never work Sundays,” His friend, Mitch, says. 

Luke Maybank was behind on several bills - worse than it’s ever been. They already shut off their electricity and JJ wanted to make sure the water wouldn’t be next. 

But JJ shrugs nonchalantly. “Little extra dough can't hurt.”

“Well, you picked a good day,” Raymond walks up to the blonde, rolling his sleeves. “You got Kook Royalty and their Hybrid offsprings in your section.” 

“What?” JJ looks through the small square Plexiglas on the swinging door. He knows exactly where to look and immediately sees you sitting with King and Queen Kook, looking absolutely miserable, pushing around your food with your fork. 

“Damn, Maybank. Almost broke your neck - you turned so fast.”

“Shut up, Easterling. I was just seeing how crowded we were,” JJ lied. He really just wanted to see if you were here. And now that he sees you are, he’s a little nervous to do his own damn job.

Raymond Easterling chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you were looking at. But don’t get your hopes up. There’s a reason Kooks call that girl the Heart Sucker. Not even the high and powerful JJ Maybank could get a piece of that.”

The guys around JJ and Raymond chuckle and nod in agreement, hearing the stories of how you’d reject every single guy that’s ever asked you out. Sometimes you’d go on a few dates, trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but then things would quickly become too much, and you’d get overwhelmed. 

JJ didn’t like the way Raymond talked about you or how the others laughed at your expense. His hands clenched into fists, tempted to throw a punch in Ray’s cocky face.  The guy’s just being a jerk because he’s one of the guys that got rejected by you, he thought. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ shakes his head and ties his apron around his waist to distract his hands.

“No?” Raymond challenges him. “You think I’m wrong? You think you could pull the infamous Hybrid over there?”

JJ glances back through the window. You’re looking at your grandma with a clearly forced grin. You’re twirling your hair between your fingers, a habit you picked up when you were little to do when you’re bored. JJ would find you doing that in school all the time. 

You’re gorgeous, he thought. It’s no wonder that almost every guy on this island has tried to make a pass on you, including JJ himself, but his remarks always come off as playful, afraid of actually telling you how he feels about you. His fantasies about you went further than just getting you between the sheets. He could picture getting married, having children, and growing old together. Years ago, the two of you would talk about your future. Neither one of you cared about money or fancy jobs. All you wanted was to be free - of this island, of each other’s families, of responsibilities placed on you from birth. You hold the same values as JJ, and he’s never met another person like you. 

But JJ has a hard exterior. No one other than his best friends know his true heart, and he wasn’t going to let someone like Raymond Easterling find out about his soft spot for you. He would never hear the end of it.

JJ looks at you one last time. You’re talking to Rory, your face in his direction. This time you’re smiling, probably discussing something other than your grandparent’s expectations of you. He’d kill to see that smile every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You reject him? Yeah, that might kill JJ inside, but maybe you’d still be his friend, or continue to be acquaintances like you are now. As long as he gets to see you, he’d be okay. There was always the future. But who knows? Maybe you’d say yes? He’ll never know unless he tries. Right?

JJ fakes the same cocky grin that Raymond wears. “I haven’t failed yet.”

The guys around him whistle and shake their heads with smiles. 

“All right, Maybank. Let’s make a bet. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get Y/N Y/L/N in the sack by the fourth of July.”

JJ scoffs. “You like giving away free money?” He ignored his racing heart at the thought of being that intimate with you.

Raymond nods. “Okay. Let’s put your money where your mouth is. Get her to say ‘I love you’ by the end of the season and I’ll raise you an extra hundred and cover all your dishwasher shifts in September.”

JJ raises his brows with surprise. No one offers to take the dishwashing shift. Sometimes the boys are pulled back there when the kitchen is short staffed and it’s easily one of the worst jobs at the Club.

This bet was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Deal.” JJ says.

The boys shake hands on it and the other guys whisper to each other about how intrigued they are to see this play out.

JJ wipes his sweaty palms against his apron and pushes the door open to approach your table, hoping he can hear you over his thudding heart. 

“Good evening folks. May I take those empty plates out of your way?”

You look up at the voice you know so well and a smile raises on your lips. JJ meets your eyes and he winks at you, splattering your heart in flutters. 

“Please.” Your grandmother pushes her plate away from her, stuffed with filet and red wine.

“JJ,” Your mom grins up at him. Growing up, your mom always had a soft spot for the blonde Pogue. She’s heard the stories about his father, mostly from Steve, who actually grew up with Luke Maybank, his cousin. As a child, he was sent to live with Luke Maybank and his single father. Lets just say, he’s not surprised by the way Luke turned out. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now. Last time I saw you, Y/N was still pushing your head in the sand for stealing her popsicle.”

“Yeah. I quickly learned no one should mess with Y/N and her food,” JJ says.

“Never stopped you though,” You smirk at him.

“Lorelai. Who is this?” Your grandma asks, disregarding the boy himself.

“Mom,” Lorelai gives her mom a warning look. “This is JJ Maybank. He went to school with Y/N and Rory.” Lorelai knew to play it safe with her wording. She didn’t know where you and JJ stood. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him and she knew better than to ask. 

“Nice to meet you,” JJ says politely. “I’d shake your hand but mine are kinda full.” He motions to the plates in his hand.

“That’s quite all right.” Your grandma’s smile is so forced, it makes you uncomfortable. 

“I won’t hold you up. Has your server been around with the dessert menu?” JJ looks at you. “We have chocolate cake tonight.”

Heat rushes up your neck. Not because of the cake itself but because JJ remembered your favorite dessert. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. It was safe to save you were a choco-holic. The boys use to make it for you every year for your birthday. It usually came out burnt, none of them ever remembering how to properly make it. But it was all you needed to feel like a very special girl. 

“Your favorite,” Rory elbows you.

Your grandma cringes. “Sounds like diabetes on a plate.”

“Mom,” Lorelai scolds. 

“What?” She asks, not understanding the concept of a filter.

Now heat rushes to your cheeks for an entire different reason. “He did. We’re not doing dessert tonight. Thank you, though.”

JJ nods but feels disappointed by the way your face flinched at your grandmother’s comment. 

“My pleasure,” He says like he was taught to do and excuses himself to drop the plates off in the back before he can say anything else that would probably get him fired.

Your mom looks at your with raised brows. “He’s cute, honey.”

“Lorelai, please. He’s the busboy,” Your grandma says.

“He’s a good kid, Mom.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” You stand up. “I have to use the restroom.”

Rory gives you a knowing grin as you walk away from the table. When you walk into the hallway between the dining area and the front lobby, you immediately feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sometimes just the presence of your grandparents and their pompous judgements can be suffocating. You do your best to bite your tongue around them, excusing yourself when you feel yourself getting heated. 

JJ catches a glimpse of your light blue dress out of the corner of his eye when he rounds the corner to collect the plates off a different table. He looks over his shoulder at Raymond, who’s staring at the blonde watching you, and winks.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ says, walking up to you.

You look up from your phone and immediately smile. “Hey. I was actually hoping I’d catch you out here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry about my grandmother. She can be...”

JJ shakes his head. “Hey. It’s okay. I work for Kooks almost every single day. I’m use to it.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control,” JJ says. “Besides, that’s probably the nicest she’s ever been to me.”

You hide your face in your hands. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

JJ laughs and takes your wrists in his hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Your eyes shoot up to his, immediately feeling a tingling feeling run through your skin, straight to your heart. 

“It’s okay. I promise,” He says softly. His voice is so sincere that you have no other option but to believe him. It almost makes your feel guiltier, wondering how much bullshit he’s been through with ungrateful Kooks that it’s so easy for him to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Your voice is a whisper, taken off guard by how close he is to you and how he still hasn't let go of your hands. 

In that same moment, JJ realizes he’s still holding you and gently removes his hands. He coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, where sweat begins to bubble. Why is he so nervous?

“So um...” You say, suddenly feeling nervous too. “You going to John B’s tonight?”

JJ’s eyes shoot up in surprise. How did you know that? “Yeah. I’m heading over there after work.”

“I saw him and Pope at Heywards earlier today and they invited me over. I wasn’t sure if I should come or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Because it’s different now, you wanted to say. But you didn’t because you feel like the elephant in the room would only grow. And you didn’t want to admit you were nervous to meet Kie and Sarah outside of school. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You should definitely come. The boys miss you.”

You pretend like a little piece of your heart didn’t just break when JJ didn’t say ‘we.’ 

“What time do you get off of work?”

“Around 9ish.”

You nod. “I can pick you up if you’d like and we could go together?”

Your heart races after you suggest it. What if he says no? Why were you feeling this way? This is the same kid you use to make fun of for pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal. 

“Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

“Great!” Your phone pings with a text from Rory, telling you that your grandparents are wondering where you are. “Shit. I have to get back. I’ll see you at nine?”

“See you then,” JJ nods and turns back to the kitchen. When his eyes meet Raymond’s, he’s reminded of what he agreed to. Almost surprised how quickly he forgot about it. You were able to take his mind off of anything without even trying. He clears his throat to get rid of the giddy grin he was wearing after talking to you, wanting to look tough and casual in front of his coworker. “Easy.” He says to him. But that felt anything but easy. He could vomit with nerves.

“There’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Maybank.”

JJ huffs. He’s not wrong. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You drive up to the front of the country club and park in front of the main entrance. It’s 8:57. You’re early and will look eager. So you wait until 9:06 to text him that you’re here.

You changed into a pair of dark washed denim shorts, a yellow cropped tube top, a grey flannel, and navy converse. You changed your outfit about four times before deciding on your first one, not wanting to look too casual or too dressed up. 

For the last three years, you wondered when the four of you would get back together as a group. You wondered if it would ever happen. And now that two Kooks are involved, you feel more nervous than excited.

You jump when the passenger seat door opens, lost in the depth of your own head. JJ smiles, not seeing your reaction.”Cool ride,” he says and looks around the interior. 

“Thanks,” you say, pulling out into the road.

“I got you something,” JJ says.

You glance at him with furrowed brows. What could he have possibly gotten you since you saw him last? A book mark from the Country Club’s gift shop?

JJ reaches into his backpack and pulls out a plate with clear wrap around it. Your mouth drops when you see the chocolate cake on a plate in his hands, the smell immediately hitting your nose with pure delight.

“You saved me a piece?” You jump in your seat excitedly.

“Had to hide it good too or else Miss Carol would have had my ass handed to me,” JJ jokes and even pulls out two forks. He undoes the wrapping and cuts off a piece. He waits until you hit a stop sign and says, “Open up.”

You look at him and immediately open your mouth. He gently places the fork between your lips and you take the piece of cake off with your teeth. Like a baby.

Your eyes close with pure pleasure. “Oh my god. That’s amazing.”

“Miss Carol does know how to bake a mean cake,” JJ says and takes a bite of his own.

“Another one,” You say, glancing at the cake again. Like you said, choco-holic. “Please.” You say when JJ teases you by holding the fork away from you.

JJ laughs. “I like hearing you beg.”

You slap him in the arm with the back of your hand. “In your dreams, Maybank.”

“You got that right, Y/L/N.”

The two of you finish the cake with only a few bites each. Small but rich in chocolate that leaves you craving more. You were gonna have to meet this Miss Carol woman. 

After he puts the plate back in his bag, JJ reaches for the aux cord, but you quickly slap his hand away. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re seriously gonna make me listen to this the entire way to John B’s?”

You scoff. “I’ll have you know Blink-182 is one of my favorite bands.”

“It’s also soccer moms’ favorite band,” JJ laughs at you.

You turn up the volume, blasting ‘All the Small Things’ and point to your ear. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

JJ rolls his eyes but laughs along with you, even bopping his head to the beat. You drive with the windows down, dancing and singing along to a bunch of throwback songs with JJ as if the two of you have been doing this forever. 

You pull up to John B’s and park behind his dad’s old van, better known as The Twinkie. When you turn down the music, JJ looks at you with a shake in his head. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“What was wrong with my driving?”

“We’re in the Outer Banks, Sparky, not NASCAR.”

You scoff and follow behind JJ who’s leading the way up John B’s driveway. As you get closer, you smell the smoky scent of a bonfire nearby and eventually hear John B’s laugh mixed in with a female’s. Your smile falters as nerves gather in the pit of your stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Nothing,” You say, but JJ easily catches your lie and gives you a knowing look. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Who? Pope and John B? I’m pretty sure they like you more than me even after three years -”

“Not them, you idiot,” You shove him playfully by the shoulder as you two let yourselves inside. “Sarah and Kie.”

“Don’t you go to school with them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk,” You say quietly, not wanting them to hear you.

“Hm.”

“What?” JJ shrugs. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you cared about what other people thought.”

“I don’t,” You say quickly. “But they're your best friends. It’s different.”

“You don’t need their approval. You technically were here first.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been replaced,” You try to say it as a joke and even throw a smirk in there. 

But JJ stops in his track and looks at you seriously. “No one can replace you. Not even if they tried.”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s not a common occurrence that JJ gets all serious on you. Warmth covers you like a blanket and the longer he holds your stare, the weaker your knees become. 

“JJ! Is that you?” John B calls out from the backyard.

“Yeah,” JJ yells back. He opens the fridge in John B’s kitchen. “Want a beer?” He offers to you.

You shake your head. “No thanks.”

For the first time, you take in John B’s home. It looks the same as it did three years ago, only a lot messier. The pull out couch looks like its been used recently with blankets and sheets tossed about on it. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts are thrown messily on the coffee tables and the air smells faintly of old marijuana. 

JJ leads you out to the back where four people are gathered around a fire. Three out of the four immediately smile when the two of you approach them, but Kie’s eyes narrow and her head tilts with confusion.

Shit, you think. 

“You came!” Pope laughs and hops up from his beach chair and embraces you in a hug.

You laugh, not expecting the embrace, but welcoming it all the same. John B’s next, giving you a quick hug and shaking his head.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you were going to come,” John B says.

“You can thank me for that later,” JJ says jokingly.

“Actually when I heard JJ was coming, I almost changed my mind and stayed home,” You joke and smirk JJ’s way.

“Just like old times,” Pope says, looking between you and the blonde. The banter felt like the yall never separated in the first place. 

“Hey, you know Sarah and Kie, right?” John B points to the girls. Sarah stands up to say hi, and eventually Kie follows her, not wanting to look rude, but stays off to the side, keeping her distance.

“Yeah,” You wave awkwardly. 

“Hey!” Sarah says sweetly. “I didn’t realize you guys use to all hang out.”

“Y/N grew up down the street,” JJ explains and sips at his beer. 

“You want a drink or something?” Pope asks you, not knowing JJ already did.

“No thank you,” You say again.

“You don’t drink?” Kie asks. It was the first thing she’s said to you.

“Not usually,” You say and hold her stare. You try to get a read on her, but she’s had to get a tell on. You can’t tell if she just doesn’t like you or just doesn’t know you. Either way, it makes you uneasy. 

“Here, I’ll go grab you a chair,” Pope says and walks to the side of the house to grab another beat up beach chair. 

As the night goes on, you feel the tension in your shoulders loosen and your body feel lighter. Most of the night was spent retelling childhood stories the four of you shared. Sarah would laugh at most of them, occasionally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend from the stupid shit he would do, although it sounds like he’s no different to you now. 

You talked about the time you and JJ stole a golf cart for a joy ride on Figure Eight, or when you and John B pranked Pope by putting a dead fish in his locker, or how you and John B learned how to play guitar from youtube tutorials. 

Midnight came around quickly and exhaustion was slowly taking over your body. It’s been a long day between the cafe flooding, dinner with your grandparents, and now this. 

JJ was the first to notice you slowly fading. 

“You okay?” He asks you quietly as everyone else is caught up in conversation. 

“Yeah,” You say, lazily grinning at him. 

“We can leave if you want,” He says.

“You’re not staying?” You ask. It sounded like everyone was planning to spend the night here. And as much as you wanted to, you just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet. 

JJ shrugs. “My dad’s out of town tonight. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself.” Before you can say anything, he stands and brushes his hands against his pants. “All right, losers. We’re out of here.”

“Aw, you’re leaving?” Sarah pouts.

“Yeah, I’m beat and Y/N’s my ride home,” JJ says.

You were glad he didn’t call you out for being tired. You didn’t want to look lame in front of everybody, especially Kie.

“Thanks for having me,” You say to everyone. It might have been John B’s house, but it was everyone’s night you intruded on.

John B stands up to hug you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You nod. “I won’t. I promise.”

Pope hugs you next. “Text me when you get back safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Sarah waves and Kie exhales a ring of smoke from her blunt.

You wave at them before following JJ back to your car. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” JJ says. You didn’t realize you both walked to the driver’s side.

“What? No.”

JJ nods and holds his hands out for your keys. “I’m not dying tonight.” 

“You’ve been drinking and smoking all night,” You say. You didn’t think JJ was drunk or even that high, but you were not going to let a teenager with an ounce of alcohol in his system get behind the wheel. “Next time. For now, hold on to the cupholder.”

JJ sighs dramatically and goes to the other side of the car and hops in the passenger seat. 

This time you keep the music quiet, listening to the hum of the radio instead of your phone. 

“Take a left,” JJ says.

“JJ, I know where you live. And it’s not left.”

“Don’t you trust me?” 

You snicker. “Not in the slightest.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “Just take the left.”

You hold your hands up in surrender and take the left turn. He directs you for a couple more miles until he has you park in front of a 24 hour diner. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“I’m in the mood for a milkshake.”

“We just had cake!” You say.

“Come on, Sparky. Show me what that mouth can do,” JJ smirks. 

You go to hit him again but he takes off running to the front entrance and pulls the door open. You chase after him, almost running into his back at the front host stand where JJ safely smirks at you in triumph.

“Two please,” He says to the hostess. 

The old cranky woman leads you to a booth off to the side next to a window without a word. 

A couple minutes later, a waitress walks by and asks if you’re ready to order. 

“Yes. One chocolate milkshake and one black and white milkshake,” JJ orders for both of you, already knowing what flavor you’d want.

“And fries, please.” You say. The waitress nods, takes your menus, and walks off. JJ raises his brow at the extra order. “What?” You shrug. “Just showing you what my mouth can do.”

JJ scoffs. “What a tease.” 

You playfully kick his shin under the table.

“Did you have fun tonight?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” You answer. “Felt like old times. The girls are nice too.”

You were about to only mention Sarah, but you didn’t want to cause any issues with Kie. Not yet at least. Maybe she just needed time to warm up to you.

“See? I told you they wouldn’t bite.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress comes back with your milkshakes and fries. 

“How’s John B doing? You know, with the whole Big John thing?” You ask delicately, unsure of how JJ would react to you pestering about John B’s business. “I didn’t want to ask and bring the mood down,” You explain yourself although you don’t need to.

JJ shrugs. “He’s in denial I think. Won’t sign a death certificate until he sees a body. He could be worse, though.”

“Yeah,” You say softly. You don’t know what you would do if you were in that situation. In a way you felt lucky that you never knew your dad at all. It would be harder to lose him, knowing who he was.

You take a fry and dip it into your milkshake before taking a bite. This makes JJ freeze and look at you like you have two heads. 

“What?” You say with your mouth full.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” You say and give him a look to do it.

JJ reluctantly picks up the fry and dunks it into his milkshake. He looks at the fry questioningly before popping it into his mouth. Somehow the sweetness of the milkshake and the saltiness of the french fry complement each other beautifully and his widen in pleasant surprise. 

“Oh wow,” JJ says.

“Told you,” You smirk.

You spend the next hour catching up, trying to fit the last three years into an hour. JJ does most of the talking because you want to know more about what John B, Pope, and JJ have been up to. Your life was so boring and depressing, you didn’t want to bore JJ with the details.

You drive JJ home and talk for a few minutes more when you park. He seems to be procrastinating getting out of the car, but you don’t mind. You could talk to him all night, suddenly not feeling tired anymore.

“All right. I’ll let you get home before the sun rises,” He says and opens the door. He pauses when his feet hit the ground and he looks back at you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have to work at the shop, why?”

“Well, there’s a storm coming in. John B and I might go out to surf the surge before it hits. You still surf?”

You scoff. “Do I still surf?”

JJ holds his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. You think you can handle the surge?”

“Let’s not forget who the better surfer is, JJ.”

“I didn’t. It’s still me.”

“You wish.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Now you have a point to prove. You have to show JJ that you’re still the better surfer. 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” You agree. 

“Great, it’s a date.” He winks and shuts the door before you can tell him otherwise. 

You giggle to yourself as JJ walks up the front yard and stay there until he you see he gets in safely. 

You pull out of the driveway, wishing he had asked you out on a real date. One that didn’t involve John B.

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