#I will write a happy ending for Jack (in the future and in another work)

[loslentesdepedrito]

Broken Bottle, Broken Heart

Characters: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’ and Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales 

Word count: 3.4k+

Rating: 18+ no explicit content but I'd rather not have minors read these type of subjects. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut

Summary: You go to Jack's house, expecting a perfect evening with him, but instead you are met with hostility when Jack accuses you of stealing his deceased wife's necklace. His words break you, and then seven years later, he’s back.  

Warnings: angst, topics of death and mourning, language used by the characters is harsh and contains strong emotions, lines can definitely be viewed as emotional abuse, pregnancy mention. Hope I didn't leave anything out!

As you entered Jack's house, the sweet aroma of his favorite dish filled the air. The table was already set for two, and you couldn't help but smile as you imagined a perfect evening with the man you loved.

"Hey, cowboy," you called out, looking around for him.

Getting no reply from him, you walked towards the hallway. He was rummaging through the closet, and it seemed like he wasn't finding what he was looking for. You asked him what he was looking for, but he snapped at you with a harsh tone that sent chills down your spine.

"Where’s her necklace?” Jack grits out and you can tell he’s panicking over this necklace.

What is he talking about? You wondered. “What necklace?” you ask 

“Why does it matter to you? I bet you stole it. It's not like you care about her, or me for that matter," he said bitterly.

You were taken aback by his words. Of course, you cared about him. You loved him with all your heart. But before you could even ask what the hell he was talking about, he continued his outburst.

"You're just a replacement for her, you know that? You're here to fill the void she left behind. But you could never measure up to her. You could never be her," he spat.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Jack doesn’t love you. He was using you to mourn his deceased wife. You were just a temporary fix until he could move on.

The way he said those words, with such venom and hatred, broke something inside of you. You could feel your heart splintering and your spirit breaking.

"I don't understand what you're saying, Jack," you managed to whisper, trying to hold back the sobs that were threatening to escape.

"You don't understand? You're not like her, and you never will be. You're just a pathetic imitation," he said, his voice growing louder and angrier.

You tried to speak, to defend yourself, but your words were choked with sobs. You didn't want to believe that Jack could be so cruel. He said he cared about you. You didn't want to accept that you were just a rebound. That you meant nothing to him. But his words made it clear that you were nothing to him.

His eyes are red when he screams at you “Leave! I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

“No, Jack. Let’s talk about this.” You get closer to him and the intense smell of whiskey hits your nose. 

“I fucking told you to get out! I don’t need you. I will never need anything from you.” Jack said with bloodshot eyes, and his voice slurred with the effects of the alcohol. His face contorted with anger as he shouted at you, his words laced with venom and bitterness. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

As you tried to reason with him, he grabbed the whiskey bottle and held it tightly in his hand. You could see his knuckles turn white from the force of his grip, and your heart sank as you realized what was about to happen. ‘No, please don’t do it, please don’t break it.’ 

Without warning, he hurled the bottle against the wall with all his might. It shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, sending a spray of amber liquid in every direction. You jumped back, startled by the sudden explosion of glass and liquor. 

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the house, and the smell of alcohol filled the air. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, and your breathing became ragged and quick. You could feel your hands trembling with fear as you gazed at the broken glass and liquor that now covered the floor. Jack stood there, breathing heavily, his chest heaving with anger and frustration. He looked at you with eyes that burned with fury, and you knew that there was no reasoning with him. At that moment, you were terrified of Jack. you had never seen him like this before, and you didn't know what he was capable of.

Every muscle in your body was tense as you tried to keep yourself together. A voice inside was telling you to run and get as far away from him as possible, but another was asking you to stay; To make sure Jack was okay. Paralyzed in fear, you felt like you were walking on eggshells, afraid that any wrong move could set him off again. You could feel your heart racing and your breath coming in short gasps as you tried to calm yourself down.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you backed away from him. All you could think about was ‘It broke into a million pieces. It’s shattered beyond repair, and there was no going back’ 

With a heavy heart, you turned to leave, your steps were unsteady, and your feet felt heavy as if you were wading through mud. You felt like you were being watched like Jack was still hovering over you, even though he was several feet away. Every sound made you jump, every shadow made you flinch. It was like the fear had settled into your bones, and you couldn't shake it off. You kept glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting him to come running after you, and half-hoping he would. But he never did.

Finally, you made it outside, and you took in a deep breath of fresh air, your heart still racing. As you walked out into the cold night, You felt like you were leaving a part of yourself behind. You didn't know how you could ever forget this.

Seven years later

As you sat in your home office, surrounded by ancient texts and artifacts, you heard a knock at the front door. You got up to answer it, only to find Jack standing on your doorstep. Your heart raced as you felt anger bubbling up inside you. You had moved on with your life after he cruelly pushed you out of it seven years ago. You had built a family with Frankie, and you didn't need Jack to come barging in and disrupt it all.

"It's good to see you," he said softly. 

You snorted, "Is it really? After everything you did, you just expect me to help you? I’m assuming you need my help. Why else would you show up out of the blue? Didn't you say 'I don't need you. I will never need anything from you. I never want to see you again.' You may have forgotten, but I never forget things," you spat at him as you stood with your arms folded tightly across your chest. Fuck you were going to slap this man. You were going to drop-kick his ass, but before you could further imagine his demise you saw his guilt-ridden expression. 

Jack hung his head, looking ashamed. "I know I messed up baby, and I'm sorry. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jack shuffled his feet. "I should have come to you sooner, baby, I know that now. But I've thought about you every day for the past seven years. I should have run after you, I should have looked for you. But I was scared. I should have told you how I felt about you sweetheart.” 

You raised an eyebrow. "And how did you feel about me?"

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. "I loved you, dammit. I- I love you more than anything baby."

"What the hell do you need from me?" you asked, relenting slightly.

"I um... I need some classified documents translated. I know you're the best in the field, and I need someone who will be discreet," Jack explained.

Taking your silence as too much he started to explain himself. "I thought you stole my ex-wife's necklace," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't find it anywhere, and then her sister had it. I'm sorry, I should have trusted you. I should have known you’d never steal from me."

You didn't respond, feeling the anger still simmering inside you. But when you heard the sound of the car pulling up into the driveway, you knew you had to compose yourself.

Unsure if you wanted to get involved in his mess again, you hesitated in giving him an answer. “Okay, you need to stop with the pet names. I’m mar-” Before you could tell him you’re happily married and give him an answer about the job, the sound of the car doors opening interrupted your conversation.

"¡Mami, ya llegué de la school!" (“Mom, I’m back from school!”)  your daughter called out, her voice echoing through the front of the house. You felt relief flood through you as you saw her, happy and carefree, running towards you. Frankie followed closely behind, and his face instantly contorted with anger when he saw Jack.

Frankie knew you could handle yourself, but he still worried about you. He knew you too well, he knew that seeing Jack again was hurting you. 

“Mija, entra a la casa y ve a jugar con tus muñequitas y carritos arriba,” (“Mija, go inside the house and play with your dolls and cars upstairs”) Frankie spoke to his daughter in a soft tone as he gently touched the top of her head. 

Everything was in slow motion for Jack when he saw your daughter. His heart was racing as he watched your daughter run towards you, her hair bouncing in the sunlight. She looked so much like you, but there was something about her that made Jack's heartache. He couldn't quite put his finger on it at first, but then he saw it - the shape of her eyes, the curve of her lips. They were just like his own. He couldn't help but wonder, was she his? Had he missed out years of her life, never knowing that he had a daughter? The thought made him feel sick to his stomach, and he had to take a deep breath to keep from hyperventilating.

“Hi, cowboy! Bye, cowboy!” Your daughter told Jack as she zoomed past him excited to go play.

What pulled him out of his trance was also heartbreaking. “This is my husband Frankie, Frankie you already know who he is,” You point towards Jack, watching as his eyes widened and then darted to your left hand, where your wedding ring glinted in the light... ‘Fuck’ he thought. Of course, you’re married. You were such an amazing person. He was an idiot to push you away. 

Frankie's arms wrapped around you tightly, his warm embrace a comfort against the tumultuous emotions stirring within you. His lips pressed softly against yours, and for a moment, you forgot that Jack was even there. You melted into the kiss, savoring the taste of him, the feeling of his body against yours. It was a familiar comfort, a reminder of everything you had built together.

But as quickly as it began, the kiss ended, when Frankie pulled away to face Jack "Let’s go inside. I don't want to cause a scene out here,” your husband gently led you inside, followed by Jack. 

Jack stepped into your home and paused, taking a deep breath. The scent of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air, filling his nostrils and stirring his appetite. He looked around, his eyes taking in the space, and he couldn't help but notice the bookcases lining the walls. They were filled with ancient texts, tomes, and artifacts - a reflection of your passion for history and knowledge. Jack felt a pang of regret as he remembered how he used to love listening to you talk about history and archaeology.

His eyes wandered around the room, scanning the pictures on the walls. There were several family photos - one of you, your husband, and your daughter all huddled together on the beach, another of the three of you smiling brightly at a family gathering. Jack's heart sank as he realized that he could have been in those pictures. He could have been a part of your family.

He continued to inspect the room, taking in the little details that he had missed out on. The vibrant, hand-woven rug that you picked up in Peru. The small figurines on the mantelpiece that you had collected from your travels. Every item in the room told a story, and Jack felt a sense of longing to be a part of those stories once again.

As he stood there, taking everything in, he felt a lump form in his throat. He had let you go, pushed you away, and now he was just an outsider looking in. He couldn't help but wonder how things could have been different if he had just been honest with you and if he had fought for you. He had missed out on so much - your laughter, your love, your family.

With a heavy heart, Jack turned to you, his eyes filled with regret. "You have a beautiful home," he said softly. But even as he spoke the words, he knew that he could never be a part of it again.

Jack’s restraint broke when he saw the picture of your daughter as a newborn. Jack's teary eyes searched for answers. "Is she mine?" he asked, his voice quivering with emotion.

Without hesitation, you replied, "No."

"How old is she?" Jack pressed on.

"She's six," Frankie, answered with a calm yet firm voice.

Jack's eyes widened as he calculated the dates in his head for the first time. "So, she could be mine?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope.

Frankie's eyes narrowed as he shot Jack a sharp look. "No, she's my daughter," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jack looked ready to lash out, his fists clenching at his sides. "But biologically speaking, is she mine? She looks an awful lot like me," he insisted.

"She looks like Frankie too," you interjected, snapping at the man who hurt you so long ago.

"But biologically speaking, I don't know," you added, wanting to be honest.

"I met Frankie right after you kicked me out," you said, your voice trembling with memories you'd rather forget.

Jack's expression turned sour. "Oh, so you spread your legs for the first man you saw," he accused. He knew it was hypocritical of him as he reverted to his old ways the same night he kicked you out. 

Frankie's temper flared as he grabbed Jack by the collar and pushed him against the wall. "You don't get to judge her for seeking comfort in someone else," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Jack flinched, feeling the weight of Frankie's words. "She loved you, you know," Frankie continued. "But you never deserved her. You took advantage of her while still grieving. She was in love with you from the moment she met you, and you didn't even trust her."

"Do you even remember what you said to her? How much you hurt her?" Frankie asked, his voice rising with each word. "Because she couldn't forget. She would cry every day when she remembered how quickly you threw her away like she didn't matter. But she is not a replacement and she didn't deserve to be treated as such."

"That little girl is my daughter, got that?" Frankie said, his eyes burning with fierce protectiveness. "I don't care if she may not be biologically mine. I didn't even want a paternity test because I know she's my little girl."

"I've been there since my wife started getting pregnancy symptoms, when she took a pregnancy test, when she took 5 more, when she went to her first appointment, when she first heard my daughter's heartbeat," Frankie said, listing off each milestone with pride. "When my little girl grew every day in my wife's womb, when my princess first kicked, when my wife craved all sorts of street food at 2 am, when our daughter was born, when she first rolled over, when she first crawled, when she took her first steps, when she said her first words, when she had a fever that wouldn't break, when she broke her leg, when she was scared of her first day at school, when she graduated pre-k and kinder. I've always been that little girl's dad."

Silence hung in the air as Jack absorbed Frankie's words. He looked at you and then at Frankie, his face a mix of regret and resignation. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Frankie's grip on Jack's collar loosened, and he took a step back, and he sent you a look. You knew what he was thinking. It’s something you discussed together before- what if Jack found out about your daughter and came back for her? Although, you thought he would demand a paternity test. As the years went by, the possibility of his return diminished and you and Frankie stopped discussing the possibility. You certainly weren’t expecting him to turn up now. 

You had never expected Jack to show up at your doorstep, but here he was. "Give me your phone number," you said, your voice distant and cold. "We'll get back to you as soon as we figure out a plan." The words slammed into him like a ton of bricks, and his heart dropped into his stomach. He knew that things would never be the same again.

Jack could feel the weight of your words bearing down on him as you continued to speak. "I don't think it's a good idea to introduce you to our daughter as her father just yet," you said quietly. "However, you might only see her on special occasions, such as birthdays." Jack knew he should be thankful. It wasn't certain your daughter was his because she could have been Frankie's. Even if she was Frankie’s, it would be his only opportunity to be a father figure, and he would take it.

And then came the crushing blow. "I'm not going to let you hurt her, Daniels," You said, your voice rising with anger. "Your words... they have the power to make you feel weak, pathetic like you don't matter. I am not going to expose my daughter to that. I don't care if you didn't mean to hurt me. You said those words. I need to make sure you’re not capable of saying something like that to my daughter."

Jack felt a lump form in his throat as he remembered the fight that had led to this moment. The hurtful things he had said to you, the things he wished he could take back. He had never meant to hurt you, but he had, and now he was facing the reality of it.

"Did you know I still flinch around loud noises?" You continued, your voice shaking with emotion. "I'm sorry if you think I'm keeping her from you, but I'm doing this for her own good. She already has a dad who loves her so much. I don't want to break that bond."

Jack felt a wave of jealousy wash over him as he thought about another man raising his daughter. He wanted to be the one to hold her when she cried, to teach her how to ride a bike, to be there for all of her firsts. But he knew that it wasn't meant to be.

"When she gets older, we can tell her about you," You said, your voice softening slightly. "We always planned to be honest with her, and if she wanted to look you up, we weren't going to stop her."

As Jack walked away, he couldn't help but think of all the things he had lost. The chance to be a father, the love of a woman he had hurt, and the sense of belonging that he had always had with you. He was a man adrift, lost in a sea of his own mistakes and regrets. He could only hope you could forgive him one day. 

As soon as Jack left, you turned to Frankie, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. "Why did he have to come back now, after all these years?" you asked him, your voice choked with emotion. Frankie took your hand, his touch warm and comforting. "I don't know, baby. But I won't let him hurt you again or our princess. Todo estará bien amor, ya lo veras," (Everything will be okay my love, you’ll see) he said firmly.

Note: I have been writing for plenty of fictional characters for years, including Pedro’s characters. However, this is my first time publishing anything I’ve written. This was intended to be a series, but I ended up writing one part. Apologies for any mistakes, I don’t have a second reader. It’s just me double checking within seconds! 

[snaccpopstudios]

Long time, no see, Tumblr!

Hello Everyone! It’s been a while, and we’re so sorry about the silence on our blog! But we have some big, important updates to share with you all. The entire team has been extremely busy with both personal, real-life responsibilities and with game production! On top of this, we have also had a big change in management and production, so we’ve been getting a handle on that at the same time.

I’ll start this by stating that I’m Tobias (he/him), the new social media and community manager, and I’ll be bringing this update to you all! And, all Patreon links provided (minus the ones near the end) are public posts, so you don’t need to be subscribed to a tier to view them, but you still need to be 18+! Now, this goes a bit back, so get a warm drink and get comfy to read this big post because if you haven’t been on the Twitter or Patreon, you’ve missed quite a lot (which is on us entirely! We’re sorry again!) In September 2023, we released a few screenshots on our Patreon showing off some script revisions for the demo of “Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.” (read them + the update more in detail here!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sunny-day-jack-90099502) As stated in that post, “A lot of grammatical errors, run-on sentences, etc.. are also being combed out in favor of: - Content that foreshadows future events in the game - Content that is easier to read - And content that more clearly portrays the rules, lore, and restrictions of the supernatural/horror elements in this world

Additionally, more content in general, will be added. Not a substantial amount, but enough to flesh out scenes and make things make more sense now that the world/game has been almost completely outlined.” This post was met with a lot of confusion, as SDJ fans mentioned that they feared the game was being toned down from its original concept. And while our re-writes do actively remove dialogue that unintentionally may be perceived as dubious consent or pressuring the player into sexual/romantic choices, there are no intentions to remove yandere/horror content! We cleared this all up in another Patreon post; a small QnA (here’s that one, again, more in detail!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-yandere-is-to-91034309). 

You may be saying “But Tobias! On the Kickstarter, it said there was soft, dubious consent!” And yes, that is true. However, as stated in the 2nd link provided, Our publisher at the time, Project Enso, originally put that warning up. Sauce (they/them) was not happy with that, but PE properly explained that people who were uncomfortable with the infamous "No Route" hadn't had that warning, and thus felt surprised.

This twitter post was the beginning of Sauce’s quest to remove that warning. (https://x.com/SunnyDayJack/status/1560782320533118976?s=20)

[Disclaimer: PE had nothing to do with the writing of the content. They just had to do what was safest!]

Now, you may have noticed that at the beginning of this post, I mentioned a big change in management. In a post made on Patreon in late October 2023, we got introduced to our new Director, Biscuit (she/her)! She’s previously made devlogs on the Patreon, but she’s since been made the Head of Operations for SnaccPop! These are big and important posts, so I really recommend reading them (as well as the previous posts I’ve linked) in their entirety on the Patreon! - Status Update: New leadership, steps moving forward, future of SnaccPop: https://www.patreon.com/posts/status-update-of-91558879 - Q&A: Project Enso departure, AphroDesia, Deadlines and more: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-project-enso-91850042

But the main points of these two posts above are, 

Sauce will no longer be taking a management role at SnaccPop anymore. Instead, they will take a much necessary backstep to focus solely on creating art and supporting the studio through their continuous work.

The studio has Biscuit as its front-facing figure, but she will be helped out by Perrie (she/her, our current Voice Acting director), Nana (she/her, our current Art director), and other individuals who are key to keeping the content going smoothly at a decent pace. 

SWWSDJ is no longer being released as a full game in November 2024, and is now having Episodic Releases! (Acts 1, 2, 3, and 4)

The Patreon rewards will remain entirely the same. Sauce, as it has been said before, will keep working with us all the way!

Some of you may be wondering what happened with Project Enso and why we parted ways with them, you can read their parting message here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/official-from-92484578

We want to say thank you to Project Enso for all the great work they did for us, however, we believe this decision is the best next step forward to make Sunny Day Jack as best of a game as it can be.

Now, onto some fun stuff! Speed round!

An AphroDesia Game?! The customer is always right! But that doesn't mean that they're necessarily pleasant to deal with…   Available to our $10+ Patreon supporters, you can play a demo of the upcoming mini dating-sim featuring our beloved cutie-pie, TMon, called “ConciUrges.” Featuring 4 endings, two of which are NSFW!

Bachelor of the Month is back! We’re introducing our new icy, and first plus-sized bachelor for the month of December, Jacob Frost (who’s voice has yet to be revealed, but his look has been!) He’s draped out in front of a cozy fireplace, waiting for you to get to know him for $5+~

Another SDJ Demo? You betcha! We understand that there's been lots and lots of content for Sunny Day Jack, and that includes multiple demos that we've released in the past. However, we want to release one last demo. One that includes our new artstyle and script changes that reflect our ideology much more clearly so there aren't any doubts as we move into the future. The release date is TBD!

WE'RE HIRING!! Are you an 18+ NSFW writer and/or an audio engineer? Then you're the person(s) for us! Apply for the position(s) on the Patreon post or the Twitter post!  THE POSISTION IS ONLY FOR THOSE 18+. PROOF OF AGE WILL BE REQUIRED.

Project: DramaBoy As stated in the above linked posts in #5 (more in detail on the Patreon link!) We’re starting up a new project, Project: DramaBoy! As an explanation to non-paying patrons who may have missed our upload of our first teaser (Impish BF Surprises You on Christmas),  we'll be looking to release (hopefully) weekly NSFW and SFW POV Boyfriend audios! Sometimes they'll include characters you know and love-- such as Jambee or Sunny Day Jack. However-- sometimes, they'll include interesting beta concepts voiced by the same VAs from our mainstay projects! Read all about it and see the SLIVER of the list of BFs we’re planning to bring you at https://www.patreon.com/posts/project-dramaboy-94652067 (available to read for free!)

That's all for this update! We know it's lengthy and long overdue, so thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to read! ^_^

[writingonleaves]

it's so hard to watch everything i want (everything i was spinning down the drain) - trevor zegras

pairing: trevor zegras x original female character

warnings: swearing, angst-ish, mentions of cheating (not between the two main characters), self-loathing, fluff

based on: "bleach" by 5 seconds of summer + "the archer" by taylor swift. title from "bleach"

word count: 15.6k

author's note: tried my hand at writing trevor's pov and it was Hard. this one means a lot to me personally so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! takes place at least five ish years from now so future fic alert!! trevor is finally employed again and that motivated me to finish this LOL

*****

Trevor Zegras is good at a lot of things. Remembering names and faces is at the top of the list.

It kinda makes sense. He’s been meeting and shaking hands with people ever since he was a teenager, most of them wanting something from him in one way shape or form. It’s not completely a bad thing. He wouldn’t have gotten this far without knowing who he was talking to. 

So that’s why it’s such a surprise that it took him a whole damn hour to figure out why the wedding planner for Jack and Amelie’s wedding looked so familiar. Isabelle, she introduced herself as, and he keeps racking his mind to see if he knows an Isabelle, but he comes up empty.

As a groomsman, Trevor was expected to come to the venue earlier. He didn’t have to come a whole week earlier, but he had nothing else going on and the wedding’s in Michigan, so it wasn’t completely inconvenient for him. He just crashed at Jack and Quinn’s, to which the latter rolled his eyes at. But the soon-to-be-married couple were thrilled that he was coming early so they could put him to work, and he was more than happy to help out. 

It’s halfway through assembling floral centerpieces when he shoots his head up to the wedding planner across from him. “Belle Holloway?”

Belle looks up with a small smile. “Been a long time since anyone’s called me that.”

“Holy shit. I knew you looked familiar. It’s been so long.”

“Z, are you bothering Isabelle?” Jack calls out from another table. “Please don’t scare her away. She’s been our lifesaver the last year.”

Belle chuckles. “You don’t need to worry, Jack.”

“Yeah, Hughesy. Belle and I go way back.”

Amelie is passing by and hears that comment, raising her eyebrows. “You two know each other?”

“We grew up in the same town,” Belle explains, tying a ribbon around a bunch of flowers. “My brother was in Trevor’s grade in school. They played hockey together for a bit before Trevor got too good and left.”

“Belle was probably the smartest girl in school,” Trevor adds with a hint of pride in his tone. “Can’t say the same about her brother. Where did you end up going to college?”

“University of Michigan.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jack smirk. Weirdo. He literally didn’t even go to Michigan. 

Trevor whistles. “Still smart. Where is Connor these days? He went to UConn, right?”

“Yup. He’s with his wife in Chicago now. Doing something with finance.”

Trevor makes a mental note to reach out to his old friend the next time he’s in Chicago. “And little Lily?”

Belle chuckles. “Not so little anymore. She graduated from Parsons last year and works at Michael Kors as a designer.”

Trevor smiles knowingly. “Guess her styling Connor all those years paid off, eh?”

“Guess so.”

(Amelie and Jack are at another table working on centerpieces, overhearing this conversation. They give each other a knowing look as they keep eavesdropping. This is why Belle didn’t seem surprised during their initial consultation when they had to explain Jack’s hockey schedule and why he wouldn’t be able to adhere to the traditional timeline if he wanted to be at all the appointments. Little did they know, she already knew someone in the NHL)

She then asks about his family, because while Trevor was always her brother’s friend, their parents got to know each other pretty well to the point where they would go over to each other’s for dinner enough for her to remember. Trevor talks about how Griffin is off doing God knows what in Florida but having a good time at his sports marketing job and how Ava, who’s the same age as Lily, graduated from Elon and is now in the Philly area as a nurse. 

They’re now moving pots of flowers around as they venture into their lives post-grad. “So have you been in Michigan this whole time?” Trevor asks.

“Yeah, though I had a brief stint in Santa Ana. This wedding is my last one here, actually, so a fun one to end on.”

Trevor follows her eye-line at the soon-to-be-newlyweds, who are now decorating the photo station but more fucking around then decorating. Amelie’s slapping Jack’s shoulder as he laughs loudly. Trevor smiles at the sight. “They’re great, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Belle admits. “I’ve worked with a lot of couples, but they’re one of my favorites. From the fact that they’re organized and flexible and so kind and understanding to the fact that they seem to be super in love with each other.”

“You said this is your last wedding here?” Belle nods. “Where you off to next?”

Trevor notices her stiffening a bit, and he immediately wants to take the question back. But the discomfort leaves as fast as it came. “Not sure. Gonna do some last minute packing up and then go home to New York next week to reset and figure it out from there. Connor offered his guest room in Chicago so I might take that. I have some friends that are dispersed around the country as well.” She shakes her head and switches topics and he makes a mental note of her vague answer. “Enough about me. How about you, Mr. NHL? Not gonna lie, when I saw Jack’s list of groomsmen, I had to brace myself mentally when I saw your name.”

“Brace yourself? What does that mean?”

Belle chuckles and his smile widens at the sound. “It’s been awhile, but not everything is different. I’m sure you’re still the life of the party everywhere you go, which means you’re at high risk of intruding on my meticulous plans on the day. Mind grabbing those shears for me next to you?”

He passes her the shears, standing up straight. “Jack’s conned you. He is way worse than I am.”

“Jack is also the groom so he knows that he has to listen to what I say if he wants things to go well,” Belle says. “How have you been, though? Has Anaheim been treating you well?”

“It has. The team’s great. The weather’s great. The beach is right there. Very different from Bedford.”

“Congrats on a great season. The playoff run was fun to watch.”

His eyebrow shoots up. “You watched?”

She shrugs a bit sheepishly. “If a game is on, I’ll usually watch. It’s like white noise to me now, after going to Connor’s, and I guess your games growing up. I went to a couple of Ducks games during the two years I lived in Cali.”

“And you didn’t reach out?”

She wipes her hands on her jeans. “I…you were always more Connor’s friend than mine. Didn’t want it to be weird.”

“It wouldn’t have been,” he assures. “Next time, let me know and I’ll get you tickets. You still have my number?”

“I do.”

“Perfect,” Amelie then comes up and seems like she has a question. “I’ll let you ladies be. Where’s your fiance?” He asks the bride-to-be.

“Quinn just arrived, so probably making sure the bar is all good, since you guys have your weird ass drink preferences,” Amelie says. “We should be almost done here though. Just have a couple last questions for Belle and then we’ll head back.”

Trevor snorts. “Typical. I’ll go find them.” He turns back to Belle with a grin. “Good to see you, Belle. Don’t be a stranger.”

Belle smiles. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Trevor promises, before walking away. 

When things finally settle down a couple of hours later and he settles into one of the guest rooms for the night, he reflects back to his own childhood and memories of Isabelle Holloway, or Belle, as everyone used to call her. Brunette and green-eyed, Belle was decently quiet compared to him and Connor’s wild teenage boy energy, but she was talkative with her own friends and Trevor’s parents adored her. She loved Taylor Swift, and if Trevor looked into it deeper, her blasting her music around all the time probably got Trevor to like it purely through osmosis. She was always clean, happy to do the dishes and Trevor often caught her organizing the living room and basement without being asked. She was incredibly smart, always had her homework done before hanging out with her friends and seemed to always ace her classes with minimal difficulty. Even when Connor gave her shit just because he was the oldest sibling, she rarely dished it back. That kindness extended to all of Connor’s friends as well, including Trevor, even when they were loud and playing video games when she came home from school. Every memory he has of Connor growing up, Belle’s right around the corner.

Belle Holloway had always been too good to them. It’s a no-brainer that her profession is based on giving something to others.

He still follows Connor on Instagram, so he goes to his old friend’s page to find his sister’s page. She’s private, but he doesn’t hesitate on requesting her account. He goes to take a shower and brush his teeth and when he comes back to his phone, he’s delighted to see that she’s accepted his follow request. 

Thus begins his stalking. 

There’s not many posts to stalk — she only has 47 — but it does span the amount of years he lost touch with the Holloways. There are posts from her later high school years when Trevor had already left Bedford, and he smiles to himself when he sees the post from her high school graduation, with Connor, Belle and Lily all cheesing in one photo. There are various posts from her college years — she must’ve spent a semester or a summer abroad in Barcelona — mixed with some various travels from Yellowstone to Sweden to Miami. Then it gets less frequent after she graduates college, posts of the Michigan landscape, posts with friends on a night out, at a friend’s wedding, the rare photos of just herself. She notices there’s a guy in some of those posts, but no one’s tagged and the caption doesn’t reveal anything, so he figures it must be a friend or ex-boyfriend of some sort. 

One thing that hasn’t changed much, he thinks, is how beautiful she is. As he scrolls on her Instagram and thinks back to seeing her earlier today, he kinda can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.

The day of the wedding comes by and it’s an early start for the bridal party. Trevor rolls into the Planterra Conservatory at 8:47 a.m. with coffees for himself, Quinn, Luke and Jack while Cole had gotten coffees for himself, Nico and Alex earlier. The suits are already hung up by the window of the spacious room and beers have already been opened. 

“Starting off early, eh?” He sets down the coffees on the table. 

“It’s a big day,” Luke calls out from steaming everyone’s suits.

“That it is,” he stops by the chair Jack is sitting in and gives him a hug. “Congrats, man. You nervous?”

“Nah,” Jack smiles. “More excited than anything.”

Quinn grabs his coffee and sits down. “I stopped by the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. Amelie said the same thing.”

Jack lights up at the mere mention of her. “I’m just anxious to see her, to be honest.”

Belle walks in then, clad in a light green jumpsuit and a tan blazer, with a bright smile on his face. “Oh good, Trevor made it. Everyone all good in here? Do you guys need anything?”

Jack grins. “We’re all good here, Isabelle. Thank you. I’ll holler if we need anything. Promise.”

She shoots the groom a semi-skeptical look before nodding. “Okay. I’ll check back in, in 30 minutes.”

“Do you need any help at all?” Nico asks. 

She shakes her head with a thankful smile. “You all are too kind. I’m good. Michelle and I are manning the floor. She’s kinda doing my job better than I am, when she has her own bridesmaid duties to worry about.”

“Impossible.” Quinn remarks. “You’re fabulous at your job.”

Belle rolls her eyes fondly, and Trevor’s reminded that even though she’s the one running the show, she’s younger than a majority of the bridal party. “Flatterer.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and clicks her tongue. “Alright. I’m out.” She looks at Trevor with a pointed look. “Zegras. You better come find me if anything goes wrong.”

“Why are you entrusting that responsibility onto me?”

“Because I have so many stories about you that I could tell everyone if you don’t listen to me.”

Trevor gasps in mock offense. “Belle, oh Belle! Resorting to blackmail?”

The whole room laughs as she grins. She stops in front of him, a more serious look on her face. “Call me if anything goes wrong?”

“I gotcha.” He assures her with a firm nod and she shoots everyone one last grin before walking out. If his eyes linger on her, no one has to know. 

(Everyone in the room knows. He doesn’t notice them all giving each other knowing smirks)

Jack speaks up first. “Z, if you end up hooking up with my wedding planner, give her a good time at least. She deserves it.”

“Jesus Christ, Jacky.” Trevor groans as everyone cackles. Thankfully for him, they drop it after that. 

The next time he and Belle get to interact is after the ceremony — to which he couldn’t stop smiling watching one of his his long-time best friends marry the girl of his dreams, proudly watching at the front as they exchanged vows to love each other forever — when it’s time for pictures and Belle and the photographer are working together to direct everybody where they need to go. Belle stops directly in front of Trevor and focuses on fixing his boutonniere. Her tongue pokes out as she focuses on making it straight after several attempts. Even amongst a crazy day, he feels a sense of calm surrounding him. 

She huffs. “Why won’t your boutonniere stay still?”

He smiles down at her cheekily. “On my worst behavior.”

She snorts, before softening. “Thank you for earlier.” He knows she’s referencing when there was a minor mix up with the rings right before the ceremony was about to start and Trevor got it under control within 10 minutes. 

“Of course.”

She puts a piece of stray hair back on his head away from his forehead and he feels his heart flutter at her light touch. She smirks a bit. “On your best behavior today, actually. Like you promised.”

“Don’t count on it once the open bar hits.”

She laughs before moving on to fix Luke’s collar and Trevor gets a second to finally take a normal breath.

The next time he spots Belle is well into the reception, when the dance floor is full and the drinks are flowing and everyone is enjoying themselves. She’s nibbling on a slice of cake in the corner, eyes sweeping through the crowd with a small smile on her face

Trevor, who ditched his blazer after ‘Mr. Brightside’ brought the place down at least 7 songs ago, strolls over, hands in his slacks. “Haven’t seen you in a bit, Belle of the Ball.”

Her nose wrinkles. “No one’s called me that since I was 6.”

“A good wedding to end off on?” 

“I think so,” she smiles, staring at Amelie giggling as she pours a bottle of champagne into Jack’s mouth. “You having a good time?”

“The best. And I’ve been to a lot of weddings. You did beautifully.”

Belle waves him off. “All in a day’s work.”

“Do you still have fun at weddings? Since you have to work them?”

“Yes and no,” she admits. ‘Yes, because the end result is always worth it and seeing the happy couple live their day is always worth it. No because now when I go to weddings of my friends and family, it’s hard to turn my work brain off.” 

“Are you allowed to dance at your clients’ weddings?”

“I usually wouldn’t,” she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Make an exception for an old friend? To celebrate your last wedding in Michigan?”

She looks away for a second. “I don’t want to make Jack or Amelie feel weird.”

“Those two couldn’t care less. I’m sure they’d actually encourage it.”

He shoots what he hopes is an encouraging smile as he offers a hand. She looks at him for a couple of seconds before letting him help her up. 

It’s perfect timing as ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift comes on and the once rowdy floor is calmer, with couples dancing with each other or families dancing with their kids. It’s a dance floor filled with love.

He guides Belle to put her arms around his neck as he carefully places his on her waist. 

“I told Connor about seeing you again.” She starts

“Oh yeah? What did he say?”

“He told me to tell you to hit him up the next time you’re in Chicago.”

“Was already planning on it.”

“He also said and I quote ‘if the next thing I hear is that Zegras is dating my sister, I will kill him.’” Trevor tips his head back in laughter as Belle chuckles. “He’s lucky I never dated any of his friends. He had some cute ones.”

“Was I one of them?”

“Nice try. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, Trevor.” She says dryly. “Besides, I was kinda kidding. It’s not like you or any of his friends would’ve gone for me anyways.”

Now he’s confused. “What?” He thinks she’s joking, but from her face he realizes she’s not. “You do know that like, half of the hockey team had a crush on you, right?” She tips her head back in laughter as he squeezes her waist. “I’m not kidding. It annoyed Connor to no end.”

She snorts. “There’s no way.”

“Up to you whether to believe it or not. Just know that I never lie, Belle.”

She hums, and the way she’s looking at him makes his hands start sweating. He hopes she can’t feel it through her jumpsuit. “What you’ve done with your hockey career and everything, it’s really cool. I’m happy for you, Trevor. You deserve it.”

And he’s heard so many compliments about his career throughout his whole career, but it’s different coming from someone from his hometown. Someone who knew him before he left and knew what he was like before the NHL — before his days at the NTDP, even. Someone who has nothing to gain from complimenting him. 

“Thank you, Belle. That-that means a lot coming from you.”

She just smiles back before they fall into a comfortable silence and keep dancing. He twirls her and does an exaggerated dip that has her giggling. They keep dancing and dancing, even as the songs change tempo.

(Amelie, who’s resting her feet right by the dance floor, nudges Jack and gives him a look. She picks up a disposable camera and points it at them, before taking her phone and also taking a picture. She has an inkling that Trevor and Isabelle may want these someday)

“What are you up to before the season starts?” 

He shrugs. “I’m not sure, actually. I just need to be back in Anaheim for pre-season in three weeks.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Quinn and Jack have been letting me crash at their place. Don’t have an exact date of when I’m leaving yet.”

Belle snorts, though it’s paired with a smile that seems fond. “Still the same, huh, Trev?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your spontaneity used to stress my parents out, even back then. The reason they still liked you is because you could charm your way out of it.”

“I stressed Kurt and Susan out?” He says, actually worried.

“Oh, hush. It’s not that deep. My dad loves watching you play. There’s been many a family call where I hear a Ducks game on in the background. Unless it’s against the Rangers, of course, in which you don’t matter.”

“To be expected,” Trevor says, heart lifting at the fact that two people who used to drive him around so much still support him, even from afar. “Do they still live in Bedford?”

“Yup. Though with the amount of time my dad spends in White Plains golfing, you’d think they lived there now. He’s loving retirement, clearly.”

Trevor laughs. “I’ll have to hit up Kurt when I’m back for a couple rounds. Does Susan still make the best apple pie?”

“Yup. And everyone still raves about it when she brings it to parties.” 

“You think she’d make me a slice?”

“She’d bake you three pies and send you home with them to Julie and Gary.”

He grins. “Never knew little Belle was this sassy.”

“Because you wasted all your time with Connor.” She shoots back with a laugh. 

(Honestly, he thinks as he twirls her again, maybe she’s right. Who knows what could’ve been if he had seen Belle as more than just Connor’s quieter, talented sister.)

“You said you’re leaving next week?”

“Yeah. Just need to sort out some boxes to move to storage before driving back to New York.”

“You’re driving all the way back to Bedford?”

She laughs at his slight disbelief. “Well, yeah. It’s only a 10 hour drive.”

Suddenly, an idea pops into Trevor’s head, and before he can overthink it, he blurts it out. “What if I came with you?” She blinks, and he forges on. “I mean, I don’t have much going on and it’d be nice to go home before pre-season. I’ll help you load your car and pay for your gas and meals and-”

“Trevor, I-are you sure? You don’t have to…we literally just reconnected after not seeing each other for over a decade.”

“I know I don’t have to do anything,” he says, now trying everything to convince her. “If I’m overstepping, you can tell me and I’ll immediately lay off. But it just seems like…maybe some company could be nice. And we could switch off driving too.”

She bites her lip and tilts her head curiously, trying to find something in his face. It only took her a couple of seconds to chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but sure. Why not? Come join me on my drive back home.”

He lights up, grinning widely. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“When are you planning on leaving?”

“Monday.”

In two days. Perfect.

“This is gonna be so fun. Just you wait.”

“I don’t doubt it. Fun seems to always follow you wherever you go.”

He has to let her go, since she has some last things to do as the wedding planner. He kisses her cheek quickly before he leaves the reception, to which Quinn raises an eyebrow at but doesn’t say anything. The next morning, during the quick and informal thank you breakfast for the bridal party at a nearby, fancy-ish brunch place, Jack throws him under the bus (“Saw you getting pretty comfortable with Isabelle yesterday,”) and he reveals their plan for the next day. 

It might be one of the most TV show worthy reactions from every single person, bridesmaid and groomsmen. Luke chokes on his mimosa, Quinn shakes his head, Alex blinks, Nico has a shit-eating grin on his face, Jack smirks and Cole lets out a bark of laughter. The girls have all been filled in and equally have similar reactions. Amelie immediately says “you’re joking,” Michelle, at the same time as Amelie, says “ain’t no way,” Kaia, like Alex, just blinks. Nicole and Sarah’s jaws drop wide open, Annemarie starts cackling and Isla drops her fork. 

“What?” Trevor responds, munching on his bacon. “Why all the reactions?”

“Z, are you sure about this?” Quinn asks, ever the voice of reason.

“Yes? It’s just a drive. Everyone needs a car buddy for that long of a drive. Gives me an excuse to go home too.”

“Trevor,” Amelie starts. “I think we’re all just a bit confused because this is…not that we don’t like Isabelle! She’s wonderful. But this just seems out of the blue.”

Jack snorts. “There’s nothing confusing about this at all.” Everyone, Trevor included, turns to look at the new groom, who just shrugs while taking a sip of his coffee. “He likes her.”

“For real?”

“Oh my.”

“Okay, Z! Atta boy.”

“Haven’t you not seen her for like, 10 years?”

“Have you liked her this whole time?”

“That’s crazy.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Trevor says above everyone’s exclamations. He waits until everyone’s settled. “I don’t like her. Not like that, at least. She’s just…I don’t know. It was good to see her again after so long. It felt like going back to old times. Simpler times.”

“It’s giving childhood friends to lovers,” Michelle says, making everyone laugh. Trevor rolls his eyes again and the subject is dropped. 

Jack volunteers to drive Trevor to Belle’s before him and Amelie’s flight to Greece tonight for their honeymoon. He doesn’t leave Quinn and Jack’s place without chirps from every single person still there, gathering their things and cleaning up. He makes sure to leave with giving Amelie a tight hug and a fond kiss on her cheek before playfully glaring at everyone else as he leaves.

He climbs into the passenger seat. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“We’ve known each other since we were 16, Z.” Jack says, starting the car. “Nothing you do fazes me anymore.”

Trevor just hums, staring at one of his dearest friends who is now a husband. “Congrats, Jacky. I know I’ve said it a lot recently, but I’m really happy for you.”

A small smile spreads across Jack’s face, as he automatically goes to touch his wedding ring. “Thanks, man.” Silence falls between them. “Did you ever, even just the slightest, like Isabelle as more than a friend? And be honest with me.”

“No,” Trevor replies honestly. “I always knew she was kind and thoughtful, but she was always just Connor’s little sister and kept to herself and her own friends most of the time.”

“And now? Do you like her now?”

“I don’t know,” Trevor replies honestly. If Jack is shocked, he doesn’t show it. Trevor clears his throat, “We haven’t seen each other in over 10 years. I don’t know her enough anymore to know if I like her.”

Jack just hums. “Look, I…”

“You what?” Silence. “Jack.”

“Amelie and I got pretty close with Isabelle beyond her being our wedding planner. Maybe it’s because she’s close to our age or just easy to get along with. I think…she never told us directly, but I think something happened, Z.”

“What do you mean something happened?”

“Well, I wasn’t there, but her and Amelie went out for casual drinks once to plan some stuff out and Amelie was, you know, casually asking her about relationships and if she ever dreamed of her own wedding, and she got super…not defensive. But Amelie said it was like a switch turned on. All she said is that at some point she did, but she’s not at that point of her life anymore, and then she immediately changed the topic. It’s none of my business, I get that, but she’s also my friend, Z. Just…look out for her, okay?”

“Of course I will,” Trevor promises as Jack slows down in front of Belle’s house. They both climb out of the car and Trevor grabs his backpack, duffle and garment bag from the backseat.

“Thanks for driving.” Trevor embraces his friend in a tight hug.

“Anytime,” Jack says. “Thanks for everything this last week. And just in general. I love you.”

“Love you too, man. Have fun on your honeymoon.”

Jack smiles. “Thank you. You two drive safe, eh? Let Amelie and I know when you're back in New York.”

Trevor just nods, before walking up to the front door and knocking. Within seconds, Belle opens the door with a wide smile. She looks beyond Trevor’s shoulder and waves at Jack as he drives away.

“Hi!”

Trevor can’t help but smile at her energy. It’s infectious. “Hey, Belle. Are you sure you don’t mind letting me crash for the night? I can always get Quinn to come get me later.”

She opens the door wider to let him in. “It’s not a bother at all. As long as you’re good with sleeping on the floor.” He just waves her off, setting his duffle and backpack down and looking around at the barren household. “I would give you a tour, but there’s really not much to see anymore.”

“You need any help?”

She smiles at him sweetly. “I have some boxes in the garage that you could help me move?”

He’s eager to help, until he lifts the first box, grunting about how heavy it is. Belle just chuckles, because why else had she not moved these in her car yet? If she has a professional hockey player volunteering to help her move, then she might as well put him to use, right? Trevor just rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but let a smile peek through at hearing Belle’s giggles. Once the car is packed (it takes longer than usual, as they stand out in the driveway and in the garage inbetween moving, chirping at each other and catching up), they realize it’s getting close to dinner time especially if they want to get an early start in the morning. Trevor asks what she wants to have (“as your last night living in the state of Michigan”) and she lights up, dialing up the place of her favorite Asian fusion takeout place. Trevor tries to hand over his card but she smacks it out of his hand, glaring at him while still on the phone. 

It’s a nice day outside, so they decide to venture out and have dinner on the front porch that she’s going to miss very much, leaning their backs against the panels of the house, sitting a comfortable 4 feet apart, Trevor’s knees pulled up and Belle with her legs outstretched and ankles crossed. He watches as she looks out at the sunset painting the quiet residential street, which is even more stunning than usual. If you listen closely, you can hear the sounds of kids gleefully screaming and dogs barking here and there. For a moment, Trevor feels like he’s intruding as Belle continues staring out, lost in her own world. Her focus only shifts a few minutes later when a car rolls up with their take out, as she jumps up and accepts the food with a gracious smile.

He helps her open boxes and suddenly there’s a generous spread of food between them as they start eating.

Trevor breaks the silence. “You never told me why.”

“Why what?”

“Why you’re leaving Michigan.”

She’s in the middle of stuffing a crab rangoon in her mouth. She chews and swallows for a couple of seconds. “It’s a long story.”

“I have nothing but time if you want to share.”

“I lied. It’s not really a long story. Just a sad one. That’s just my go-to when people ask.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. Ever. But you also don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She lets out a deep sigh. “I was supposed to get married earlier this year.”

He blinks. Once. twice. And he’s speechless for once in his life. She barrels on. 

“Nate and I…I met him at UMich my junior year. I had full plans to leave Michigan right after college. Not that I don’t love it here, but I just wanted to go home. But he got an offer here after graduation and I found a gig working for a great wedding planner so I stayed. And it was good. The brief stint in Santa Ana I mentioned was because of his job, so we moved out there. But I really didn’t mind. I actually really enjoyed California.” She picks at her fingernails, “He proposed to me the beginning of last year, a week before we were gonna move back to Michigan. And I was happy. Really happy. So many years I had been planning other people’s weddings and I was finally going to have my own with someone I loved.”

“Belle, you don’t have to-”

She waves him off. “The day of our cake tasting, we were running late and he was in the shower and I grabbed his phone to put in my bag. And there was a text that flashed on my lock screen. ‘Missed you, baby. See you tonight’ and that was it. He had been cheating on me for almost a year. I moved out that night and crashed with a friend for a few weeks before finding this place. Grabbed my shit when I knew he was gone during the day at work. Canceled all of the deposits. Gave the ring back.” She chuckles, albeit sadly. “Funny. The week after I found out, I had my first consultation with Amelie and Jack and honestly, throwing myself into their wedding planning may have saved me, not that they know that. Anyways, yeah. That’s why I’m leaving Michigan. I honestly would’ve done it sooner but I had to stick it out for those two. They deserved it.”

Trevor’s silent for a couple more moments. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“If we see him out and about, point him out so I can kick his ass.”

Her chuckle comes out broken but genuine. “Connor was real close when I told him. I was afraid he’d just start driving here. So you’d have to get behind him in line.”

“Gladly,” he scoots closer to her and offers an arm. She collapses into his side. “God, Belle. I’m so sorry. No one deserves that, least of all you.”

She sniffles. “It’s okay.”

“No, Belle. It’s not okay. What an asshole.” He can feel tears on his shirt and he starts rubbing her back in soothing circles. “You deserve someone to love you just as much as you love them. Someone to put you above all, who views your love and presence as a privilege. Because it is a privilege. I would know.”

She snorts, still sniffling. “You made fun of me all the time when we were younger.”

“Nah ah ah. Connor did. I didn’t. And that doesn’t mean I didn’t know how lovely you were even back then. Why do you think Connor and I were so against you going on a date with that guy…what was his name?”

“Trent.”

“Yeah. Trent. First of all, just sounds like a douchebag.”

“And Trevor is so much better?”

“Second, because he was an ass. We didn’t terrorize you about it just because. We terrorized you about it because we knew he had cheated on his ex-girlfriend.”

“Maybe if you had ever met Nate, you could’ve sniffed out his bullshit right away. Took me around 6 years to figure it out.”

“You’ve always had good judgment, Belle. No need to blame yourself when you did nothing wrong.”

“Did I though?” She whispers. “Do nothing wrong, I mean. What if-what if I was working too much or I wasn’t attentive enough or I didn’t-”

Trevor shakes his head adamantly. “Belle, no. Stop. Absolutely not. You did enough. You were enough. I’m not gonna sit here and let you pick apart yourself unfairly. You stayed in Michigan for him. You moved to Santa Ana for him. You gave all you had. And he’s the one who fucked it all up. That’s not on you.”

She signs, a bit defeated but musters a small smile. “Thanks, Trevor.”

“Of course.” He stuffs a piece of sushi in his mouth.

She shoots him a small smile that has him swallowing roughly. “Nonetheless, I’m really happy we ran into each other. It’s been nice to have a slice of home back in my life again.”

Trevor just smiles, staring into her warm eyes. “Me too.”

…..

It’s hour two into the 10 hour drive when she breeches the subject again. 

“Connor never liked him.” Trevor turns to look at Belle, who has one hand on the wheel casually. He automatically turns the music down as she continues. “He tried to get along with him, for my sake. But Connor was never sold. I always thought it was just him being a protective older brother. When I asked why, he always just gave some vague answer. Didn’t like his vibe, or whatever. It’s been hard not to agonize over now. If I should’ve just listened to him from the start.” Trevor doesn’t know what to say, but just faces her fully so she knows that he’s listening. She lets out a heavy breath as she puts her sunglasses atop her head. “I never asked. How’s your love life?”

Trevor snorts and the playfulness is back in the air again. “Well, not married like Connor is. I’ve had a couple things here or there. Clearly nothing that’s stuck.”

“Any particular reason why?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit small even though he knows that’s not her intention whatsoever. “I think when people date me, they don’t necessarily want all of me, you know? They want the jokester and the charmer. They don’t want the shifts in mood or the obsession of figuring out why I’m in a scoring drought or the insecurities.”

Belle hums sympathetically. “I think you just haven’t found the right one yet.”

“You sound like Quinn.”

She laughs. “From the small amount of interactions I’ve had with him, I’d say that sounds pretty on brand.” She shrugs. “You have time though. We all do. If that’s something you even want.”

“What? Marriage?”

“Yeah.”

“I do, I think. Want that, I mean. It’s just…hard. And scary. The thought of giving someone all of you? That’s giving them a lot of power.”

“I get it,” she says. “God, I really get that.”

“Is marriage not something you want anymore?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. I think I still do. It’s just…it’s still too soon, you know? And I don’t know if I have the energy to, like you said, give someone all of me again. I got hurt once. I don’t know if I can afford that again.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. So anybody would be lucky to love you.”

And shit, that kinda slipped out. His heart starts racing as she looks at him briefly in surprise. “That’s…that’s very kind of you, Trevor. Probably too big of a compliment.”

“Not too big of a compliment,” he automatically responds, digging himself into a deeper hole that he can’t even decipher. If he thinks about it too hard, he would realize that this is the most open he’s been with someone outside of his tight circle in awhile. And a week ago, she hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“You know, you were my favorite out of Connor’s friends back then.” 

A pang of satisfaction touches his heart and he’s grinning. “Yeah?”

Belle rolls her eyes at his slight smugness. “Don’t let that get to your head.”

“Too late.”

“I don’t know. I just..liked how friendly you were to everyone you encountered. I don’t think there was ever a time when you came over and didn’t strike up a conversation with me. Even though I was quiet and shy, you still always treated me like a person.”

“I feel like that’s the bare minimum, no?”

She shrugs. “Now that we’re in our late twenties, sure. But back when we were 12, 13 years old? You’d be surprised.” 

He watches her drum her fingers against the steering wheel, the patterned bandana in her ponytail swinging with the wind, wispies from her ponytail framing her face. If he looks hard enough, he can see 10 year old Belle sitting on the sofa in the Holloway’s living room, a sketchbook on her lap and a glass of apple juice next to her. If he listens hard enough, he can hear her humming to ‘Love Story’ as he leaves Connor’s room to walk past her room in the hallway to the bathroom. Maybe he can even smell her vanilla body spray that used to always filter out of her room if he breathes in deeply enough. 

All he can see and hear and feel is his childhood self. Looking at her makes him feel blissfully young, a bit naive and incredibly out of his depth. 

She casts him a casual glance. “You good?”

Trevor grins easily. “Never better.” 

It’s hour five after stopping for lunch. Trevor’s behind the wheel now and her legs are up on the seat with her as she stares out the window, her chin on her knees. He has an urge to put a hand on her knee. To comfort her or to let her know that he’s there, he doesn’t know. But he refrains. 

“Belle?”

“Hm?” 

“Can I ask you a question?”

She turns to face him, chin still on her knees. “Should I be nervous?”

He snorts. “No. I’m just a dumb hockey player. What could I possibly say that would catch you off guard?”

“You’re not dumb. And plenty. You knew me when I was 13 and in my awkward phase. That’s longer than most of the people I’ve seen in the last five years. What’s your question?”

Okay, Trevor can dissect all of that later. ““Are you going to miss Michigan?”

She lets out a thoughtful hum. “I’ll miss parts of it. I loved going to college at Michigan, made a lot of friends from college and work. And I grew up a lot here. Not to mention, Michigan’s almost unfairly beautiful. I’ll also weirdly miss my porch a lot. But also, it’s tough driving around with thoughts of Nate at every corner. Because he’s present in practically all the memories I have here. So I’m glad I’m leaving because I know I need to.” He turns to her quickly and sees her lip quiver. Almost as if he had imagined it, she offers a small smirk. “That’s the question you were so afraid to ask me?”

He sputters out a laugh. “What does that mean?” He asks defensively. 

She shakes out her hair to redo her ponytail. "You never had a problem asking anything to anyone back in the day.”

“Things change.”

She pauses for a split second before tying up her hair and looking at him. “They do. I’m sorry for assuming they don’t.”

Hour eight and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a bit now. One can only talk for so long, even someone as chatty as Trevor. Belle’s behind the wheel again and her phone is plugged in playing music. The playlist he had put on initially has cycled through and without asking, he plugged her phone in and shuffled a random playlist of hers.

He vaguely recognizes Taylor Swift’s voice and looks to see what song it is. ‘The Archer.’ His ears perk up as he listens to her softly sing along, and then, he’s actually listening to the words. 

Belle’s eyebrows are pinched together as she sings about people seeing right through her and how all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put her together again. He wants to offer her a hand to squeeze, a touch for support, but he doesn’t. 

He clears his throat. “So. Santa Ana. What was your favorite part?”

She automatically grins. “All of it? I don’t know. I liked my job. I liked the area. I liked the weather. It felt like a breath of fresh air, in a way.”

“Would you consider moving back?”

“Maybe. I honestly haven’t really thought of anything but leaving Michigan recently.”

He stops asking her questions. He doesn’t want to keep bringing up the pain. 

By the time she rolls into the driveway of Trevor’s childhood home, it’s almost 8 pm. Almost as soon as she kills the engine, the front door opens, revealing both his parents. Julie runs out, only barely letting Belle step out of the car before throwing her arms around her. He smiles fondly as his mother puts her hands on Belle’s cheeks as the younger woman chuckles, before turning to Gary and giving him a quick hug as well. Trevor drags his stuff out of the trunk and shuts it, smiling to himself as he listens to his mother invite Belle and her parents over for dinner the next night and watching Belle nod enthusiastically. 

She then turns to him and it feels like someone has reached into his heart and punched it. She smiles. “Thanks for the company.”

He puts down his duffle and scoops her into a tight hug, only letting her go after giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Anytime. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

(And if he catches his mom giving him an inquisitive look as they all watch Belle back out of the driveway, he doesn’t say anything)

Tomorrow comes and Trevor’s content with mostly being lazy, adjusting to being home and around his parents. It feels weird to be in these walls without Griffin and Ava, but then again, he’s sure it’s one-sided. He moved away when he was so young, leaving behind his supportive parents and his even-more-supportive siblings. They got used to Trevor not being around. 

He’s recapping Jack’s wedding to his father on the patio while his mom is preparing pies in preparation for the Holloways, the mouthwatering smell filtering through the screen door. He smiles as he recalls the week leading up when he went early and was roped into helping out, how beautiful Amelie looked and how he had never seen Jack that excited and happy before, not when he was drafted first overall, not when he won the Eastern Conference Final. He talks about how their vows made Trevor tear up and just how fun it was to celebrate two people he loves. He talks about reconnecting with Belle and briefly brushes over their drive back. He gives vague answers when his parents — mostly his mom — try to pry more, partially because it’s so much that he’s still trying to decipher it himself and partially because some of it isn’t his place to tell. 

An hour later, he can’t help but beam as Belle’s parents greet him similarly to how his greeted Belle the day before. He helps Susan bring in the pasta salad and shakes Kurt’s hand, his slight nerves settling as the first thing Kurt says is how proud of Trevor he is. Belle is the last one who walks through the door, listening to the moms talking animatedly in her ear. She’s wearing a pink floral maxi dress with a denim jacket over her shoulders and she’s glowing. He itches to give her a hug but just settles for a grin instead before turning his full attention to Kurt. 

It’s when the parents are filtering outside does he get a chance to say hello to her as they both hang back in the kitchen. She bumps her hip with his. “Long time no see.”

He pulls her into a side hug. “Hilarious. Want anything to drink before heading out there?”

She eyes the few bottles of wine in the mini wine cabinet. “White wine if it’s not too much of a hassle?”

He opens the fridge and grabs a wine glass. “My mom put a bottle in the fridge earlier. It’s her favorite, so if it’s bad, it’s not my fault.” She takes the glass from him graciously and he grabs a bottle of beer for himself as they both head outside. 

“It’s weird being here without Connor.”

“I was just thinking earlier how it’s weird being here without Griffin and Ava.”

“At least we have each other, right?”

He hums. “Good thing.” She then gets roped into a conversation with his father and he happily takes a backseat, answering when a question is directed towards him but perfectly content in watching her. 

(Julie and Susan, who had never really considered these two as a pair, nudge each other and exchange a few words, watching as Belle laughs while sipping her wine and Trevor just stares at her.

“She was supposed to get married last year. To a guy she met in college.”

Julie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that right?”

“Yup. Until she caught him cheating.”

Julie sighs. “I wish we could protect our kids from everything that could hurt them.”

“I do too.” Susan watches her daughter wistfully and lovingly. “She’s always thrown herself into work, But especially after the break-up. You have no idea how relieved I was when she told me she was coming home.”

“Does she know where she’s going next?”

“Not that I know of. For the first time in her life, she doesn’t know.”

“She’ll be okay,” Julie says confidently, rubbing her old friend’s shoulder. “I’ve never had any doubt about Belle.”

“But you had doubt in the others?” Susan teases as Julie snorts. “All our kids are doing well for themselves, but you have one who is the definition of achieving their childhood dream.”

Julie sighs thoughtfully, looking at Trevor. “He’s done well for himself, I think.”

“You think?”

Julie just smiles, clinking her glass against Susan’s.)

Meat is grilled, salads are tossed and food is eaten as the sun fades away. Sometime between sunset and when the sky becomes black, the fireplace is lit and the outdoor lamps are turned on. Trevor switched to water after his second beer, liver still trying to recover from the wedding festivities. 

Trevor finds Belle sitting by the edge of the pool with her feet dipped in, sandals to the side of her. Her hands are folded on her lap as she stares down, occasionally kicking her feet a bit to make the water ripple. He clears his throat so he doesn’t startle her. She looks up and her lips quirk up at seeing him, but they soon fall, as she turns back to the water and tilts her head to the side, taking a deep breath. 

Trevor licks his dry lips. “Come with me?”

“Where are we going?” She asks, accepting the hand he offers as she gets up and slips on her shoes, adjusting her dress. 

“You’ll see. We won’t be long.” Wordlessly, they go around the side of the house to go to the driveway. He catches his mom’s eye and just offers a small smile. Julie’s eyes flicker between him and Belle before she nods. Belle doesn’t say anything as Julie tosses her son the keys to her car, letting Trevor lightly tug her along by loosely intertwining their hands. He opens the passenger door for her and she gives him a grateful look as she slips in. 

He hasn’t been to his intended destination in at least five years, but he knows the route all the same, easily driving the seven minutes. He sneaks a glance or two at Belle as the minimal streetlights light her face aglow for a few seconds at a time. Before he overthinks it, he reaches out and grabs her hand gently, waiting for her to pull away. She doesn’t, instead lacing her hand with his and squeezing once. 

“I haven’t been here since I was in high school,” Belle says as Trevor kills the engine, the tranquility of the small lake and lookout everyone who grew up in Bedford called “Pink Sun” due to the incredibly beautiful sunsets one could see if they were lucky, no one knowing that it’s actual government name was. He’s almost confident that this specific lookout is private property, due to the string lights adorning the trees meticulously that seem to always be on, but whoever owns the property clearly doesn’t care. He would come in the summers from time to time with friends like Connor after he moved away for hockey, but he knows he didn’t experience it the same way as others did.

“Which tree did you have sex under?” Trevor asks as they get out of the car and open the trunk. He quickly fluffs up the two pillows his mom has in the car at all times and pulls the blanket over them both as they get comfortable.

She chuckles and Trevor immediately smiles at the sound. “Gross.”

“What? Isn’t that what people did?” She just lightly slaps him before they both fall into a comfortable silence again. She takes her hand from under the blanket and reaches out to find Trevor’s. He offers his hand immediately. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

She starts sniffling, and when he turns to her, concerned, he sees tears rushing down her face. He immediately wraps his arms around her and maneuvers her so that she’s crying into his chest. He tries to be steady for her shaking body, rubbing her back and muttering sweet nothings to assure that he’s here and she’s not alone. He places a couple of kisses on top of her head without thinking because there’s a split down the middle of his heart that’s widening everytime she whimpers.

She cries. The water ripples. Trevor holds her close. 

…..

The entire time Trevor’s back home, he doesn’t go more than a day without seeing Belle. They get ice cream, sitting in the chairs that haven’t been replaced in at least 30 years and giggling as the ice cream drips over their fingers. They go back to Pink Sun to watch the sunset. Because this whole month has him feeling nostalgic, he goes back to his old rink in Stamford and she tags along, indulging him as he pulls up his hoodie over himself as they watch the last 15 minutes of a game the AAA team that Trevor used to be a part of is playing in. Some of the front office staff is still the same and they all immediately beam when seeing Trevor. He chokes up a bit when talking to some of them. He’s missed it here more than he thought he would. 

After training sessions, he just shows up to her house without any warning. They take a lot of drives, passing by landmarks they know well and ones they don’t know at all. They spend hours chatting on the porch of her parents’ place, waving at neighbors as they walk by and petting their dogs. She doesn’t cry in his chest again, but there are stretches of silence where she craves a comforting shoulder. Trevor doesn’t hesitate to offer his. 

He learns more about why she enjoys wedding planning and her time in Michigan. She learns more about how his goals have changed the longer he’s been in the league and his time in Anaheim. They both talk about times they feel like they’ve had their heart ripped to pieces and he finds himself admitting things he’s never admitted out loud to anyone — not Jamie, not Jack, not Cole, not Alex. 

He wonders to himself how he’s lived this long without her in his life. 

The day Trevor has to leave for Anaheim, she offers to drive him to LaGuardia, smiling as he hugs his parents goodbye in the driveway, promising to see them soon when the Ducks are playing in New York. 

She shuts the trunk at the departures drop-off area with a wistful smile. “I’ll miss you, Trev.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” And then he practically manhandles her into a tight hug, his chin resting on her shoulder, rubbing her back before pulling away. “If you ever wanna come out to Anaheim, there’s always a place for you to stay.”

“I’ll think about it.” With most people, it’s an empty promise. But with Belle, he knows she means it. “Good luck this season. Score some goals, yeah?”

He rolls his eyes, arms still around her waist. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? You have my number. Use it.”

She nods, tilting her head to the side. “Okay.” She presses a kiss on his cheek before he forces himself to let go. She sticks her hands in her jean pockets. “Text me when you land?”

“Of course. Bye, Belle. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye. Travel safe.”

Trevor forces himself not to look back as he walks through the automatic doors. 

…..

The first roadie of the season includes a stop in Chicago, and Trevor doesn’t hesitate to text Connor. He feels the familiar pang in his heart again, guilty that he hasn’t reached out until now. But when he and Connor meet up for a quick coffee the morning of the game, it washes away quickly. They fall right back to where they were when they were 16, even though they’re both over a decade older and a bit wiser now. Trevor practically shoves two tickets for the game for him and his wife, even though Connor is trying to bat his hand away. 

After the game, the three of them go to dinner and he gets introduced to Ashley, Connor’s wife, who is peppy and fun and he loves seeing her and Connor together. After dinner, Ashley excuses herself to go home as the two of them migrate to a nearby pub. They have years to catch up on. 

“Belle tell you about the break-up?”

Trevor scoffs, taking a hefty sip of his beer. “Yeah. Fucking asshole.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth. When she decided to get the fuck out of Michigan, I was relieved.”

“Yeah?”

Connor sighs. “Yeah. I know she says she stayed because of the Hughes wedding, but I also think it’s because she had a hard time letting go. Which, you know, who can blame her, right?” Trevor just nods sympathetically. Connor leans back, eyes flickering elsewhere for a moment. “Thanks, by the way.”

“What for, man?”

“For looking out for her.” There’s a hint of relief in Connor’s tone. “She’s always been independent, I’m sure you remember. And she has a hard time letting people know that she’s struggling, even if we all see it and want to help. Whatever you did, thank you, man. It’s appreciated.”

Trevor bites his tongue. He wants to say that he doesn’t have to thank him for being a good friend, but Connor is adamant. So Trevor just smiles.

…..

The season’s in full swing, but Trevor makes the effort to keep in contact with Belle frequently. Whether it’s sending a meme or calling on his way to practice, Belle becomes a part of his daily life. 

A month in Bedford now and he can tell she’s getting a bit restless. She’s taken up crocheting, which Trevor loves to make fun of her for. Until he finds a little box on his doorstep and opens it to find a crocheted Wild Wing. He hands it on his rearview mirror in the car. He doesn’t fully realize she’s watching his games until he sees a text from her after a game against New Jersey (“Don’t let Jack hang the win over your head too much. That slapshot was insane.”) and that has him grinning much too widely for someone who just lost.

On Thanksgiving Day, after one of the guys’ families hosts a Friendsgiving for the whole team, he’s back at his place on the couch when she calls him. 

Her face comes up on the screen and he has to smile. “Oh. Hey.” she says gently. “I didn’t actually expect an answer.”

“You just caught me. I just got home from Friendsgiving with the team. Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.”

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

He doesn’t recognize her background. “Where you at?”

“My aunt’s. They’re all watching the game in the basement so I decided to take a break up in the living room.”

“Good food?”

“I’m fucking stuffed,” she admits, making Trevor laugh. “I’m not bad in the kitchen, but nothing beats a good homemade turkey and stuffing.”

“I feel you. So what’s been happening? Haven’t called in a bit.”

“It’s been, like, a week, Trev.”

“Exactly. A bit.”

She rolls her eyes, before leaning back further into the couch. “Actually, I do have news. Kinda.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I, uh, heard back from two people about a job. My old boss from Santa Ana said there’s a spot open for me if I want it. And then my boss in Michigan recommended me to someone in Manhattan, and she called me yesterday and also said I had a job if I wanted it.”

He grins. “Belle. That’s amazing! Congratulations. I’m not surprised though. I know firsthand how damn good you are at your job.”

He sees her blush slightly and he thinks it’s adorable. She twirls her hair around her finger. “Thanks. I’m, yeah. It’s pretty exciting. I’m excited to get back into it again.”

“So. California and New York. Those are two pretty different places.”

She sighs. “Yeah. That’s partially why I called you. Kinda want to get another opinion.”

Before he can stop himself, he snorts. “You’re telling me you haven’t made a pros and cons list already? Don’t think I don’t remember you forcing me to make one when I was deciding if I should go to Avon.”

She tilts her head to the side. “You remember that?”

“There’s not a lot of memories I have from growing up here that don’t have you in them. Of course I remember.”

She bites her lip but Trevor can see the smile peeking through. She clears her throat. “I do. Have a list.”

“So you’ve already made your decision.”

She opens her mouth. Then closes it. “Yes and no. I really do want your opinion, Trevor.”

“Floor’s all yours.”

“I love New York, but I don’t know if I can stay here. If I go back to Santa Ana, is it going to be like Michigan again? I don’t know what Santa Ana is like without Nate.”

“No,” he responds immediately. “It won’t be.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because Santa Ana is yours, Belle. No one else’s. You said it yourself. You loved your time there. If Michigan doesn’t feel like home anymore and New York feels too much like your past self, California is waiting for you.”

A couple seconds of silence before a small chuckle erupts from Belle. “You take a creative writing class at BU or something? That was actually eloquent.”

If he were next to her, he’d shove her off the couch. He just huffs as she keeps laughing. “My point is, is that you can make fresh starts in familiar areas. Plus, not that I have anything to do with this, but Santa Ana is pretty damn close to Anaheim.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“I mean, can you blame me? ” He leans back on the couch. “I don’t think you’re incapable of moving on. I think, in a way, you aren’t ready to, and that’s why Santa Ana scares you. You have to and are inevitably going to make new memories wherever you are, but you just have to do it. Take the leap. Dive in the deep end. Whatever the fuck they say.”

And well, that came out a bit harsher than Trevor intended, if the slight flinch on Belle’s face is an indication. But she sighs, “You’re right. I know you’re right. Fuck, Trev. Maybe I shouldn’t have quit and stayed in Michigan.”

“Stop,” he says. “We’re not doing that. Now you have to come out to California. Who else is gonna tell you to get your head out of your ass?” His goal is achieved as she laughs. “Seriously though. Whatever choice you make, you have my full support.”

Four days later, he sees that Belle left him a voicemail in the middle of the game. She’s coming to Santa Ana. Trevor starts organizing the guest room.

…..

Three days into the new year and Trevor finds himself running out of morning skate to drive to LAX. Belle’s staying with him while she looks for her own place, at Trevor’s insistence. He told her she can stay as long as she needs. He hopes she takes that offer seriously. 

He rolls up to the arrivals terminal and idles his car, seeing a text from Belle indicating that she’s still waiting to pick up her luggage. He leans back in his seat, taking a deep breath adjusting the baseball cap on his head, bopping along to the latest playlist that he made for this season.

He’s about to do a drum solo on his steering wheel when he spots Belle come out of the double doors, rolling two suitcases, backpack on her back and a tired but genuine smile on her face. He immediately leaps out of the car, running to lift her up in a hug, making her chuckle. 

“Hey Trevor.”

He kisses her cheek before putting her down. “Belle of the Ball. How was your flight?”

“Good. Long,” she reaches to get her suitcases and he waves her off, lifting her suitcases easily into his trunk as she slips into the passenger seat. She sags into the seat and turns to him with a bigger smile as he turns on the engine. “It’s really good to see you.”

He reaches to ruffle her hair to ignore the funny feeling in his stomach. “Missed you too.”

They catch each other up on what’s been happening since the last time they talked, so only really the last week. Once he turns off the highway, he opens the windows and he periodically glances at Belle, who’s leaning her head on the seatbelt strap as the houses blur by. She tucks her hair behind both her ears and Trevor feels his throat start to close up. 

“Hungry?”

“A bit.”

“Enough to wait a bit so I can cook something up?”

She looks toward him in subdued delight. “You cook?”

“Decently, I’d say.”

“What are you gonna make me?”

Whatever you want, he thinks. “I make a pretty good steak.”

“Well, I’m not gonna say no to a personal chef.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he points at her jokingly. She laughs, but honestly, Trevor doesn’t hate the idea. 

Belle’s car got shipped yesterday to Trevor’s place the week prior, so two days later, when Belle starts work and Trevor has to go to morning skate, they leave the house at the same time after cups of coffee and climb into their own cars, Belle wearing a red sleeveless blouse and white jeans and Trevor wearing a Duck t-shirt and shorts. 

Before she can fully get into her car, Trevor runs around and squeezes her, making her squeal. “Good luck today. You’re gonna kill it.”

“Thanks Trevor. Have fun at morning skate.”

“Are you still cool with a couple of the guys coming over for dinner?”

“It’s your house, dude. You can invite over whoever you want.”

“It’s also your home too,” Trevor insists.

She rolls her eyes fondly. “It’s not. But of course you can have your friends over. I’m excited to meet them.” She gets in her car, but before she shuts the door, she puts her head out. “Do you mind grabbing some orange juice? I think you’re running out and I drink more of it than you do. Just Venmo request me.”

“Yeah, I gotcha. Won’t Venmo request you though,” she opens her mouth to protest but he just taps the roof of her car twice. “We can talk about splitting stuff later. Bye now!”

“Dick,” she mutters as she shuts her door. He chuckles. He lets her back out of the driveway first.

That night, Mason, Jamie and Leo come over and the four of them are finishing up cooking dinner when Belle walks in. A bit flushed and sweaty, she’s nothing but smiles as she slips off her shoes, putting down her bag and introducing herself. She hugs each of them with a sweet smile before finally reaching Trevor. She hugs him like she did with the other three, but he thinks she holds on a bit longer. He smacks a friendly kiss on her cheek, but he catches Jamie’s eye as she pulls away and he knows he’s going to absolutely be grilled about this tomorrow. 

Dinner’s practically ready and the guys just shoo Belle away to the dining table, Leo pouring out a glass of wine for her. They chat and swap stories over chicken alfredo and salad, and Trevor’s content sitting back and watching two different parts of his life come together, not even jumping in to defend himself that much when she recalls some shenanigans from Jack’s wedding. Sure, they at least know of Jack, Alex, Cole and other various members of the NTDP crew who knew him when he was 17 and stupid, but Belle’s known him since they were children. Whether she — or Trevor even — realizes it or not, Belle and Trevor know each other in the purest way. The way only childhood allows, where filters of judgment, insecurities and expectations cease to exist. 

Even with almost two decades lost in translation, Trevor thinks, in a way, Belle might know him better than most. And he might know her better than most.

Which is why he can sense that an hour after dinner, that Belle is exhausted, so he takes the initiative and the guys immediately pick up on it, bidding Belle goodbye and making her promise that she’ll come to a game soon. Once the door shuts, Trevor goes to start washing the dishes, batting her hand away when she tries to help. 

“Trevor. You cooked. I’ll clean.”

“Nope. Go to take a shower. You’ve had a long day.”

“You have too.”

He waves her off. “Go. I got this.” Her shoulders sag in defeat, but she shoots him a thankful smile and heads to shower. 

He’s just about finishing up the dishes and wiping down the counter when she walks back in, an old Michigan t-shirt and flannel pants on. She has her book in her hands but comes by next to him. “Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning up?”

He puts the kitchen towel back on the hook and swings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her against his side. “I’m sure. Where you unwinding for the night?”

“Probably the living room, if you don’t mind?”

“Belle. My home is your home. I mean it. I’ll probably join you after I shower.”

And he does, coming back in afterwards with only the living room light being on. He sees Belle curled up on the couch, engrossed in her book as one of the candles he rarely uses is lit up on the table in front of her. The air smells faintly of pine. 

“Do you mind if I put on some football? I’ll put the volume low.”

She hums. “Not at all.” With her feet in his lap, blanket tucked over both of them, Trevor thinks that he could get used to this. 

…..

Two weeks later, they’re finishing up their takeout when Belle clears her throat. “So I found a place that seems promising.”

Trevor stiffens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s about 10 minutes from here. Just renting for now, which isn’t ideal. But it’s so soon, you know? I don’t wanna buy yet.”

Trevor understands the latter part, absolutely. But he’s still stuck on the first part of what she said. “When would you think of moving out?”

“At the start of the month.”

“That’s next week.”

She grimaces, washing their utensils. “Yeah. I just…I want to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“Belle,” his voice lowers into a serious tone that doesn’t come out of him that often. It works, because it gets Belle to look at him. “If you want to move out, I can’t stop you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I love having you here. So please don’t…don’t think you have to move out to get out of my hair. Because you don’t. I’d love for you to stay and live with me. Full time.”

Belle swallows, searching for something in his face. “You mean that?” She whispers. 

“Of course I do.” He pushes on. “And you know I’m a shitty liar.”

She chuckles as she finishes washing the dishes. On her way to the bathroom, she stops and just hugs Trevor. He welcomes it with a big smile. “You 100% sure?”

“Yes.”

She pulls away with a smile. “Okay. Your porch is better anyways.” 

Trevor laughs, his mind briefly flashing to an image of this place that had been only his for so long one day becoming theirs, with her throw pillows on the couch and fairy lights on the porch and photos of their friends and loved ones hanging on the walls, some they share, some they don’t.

…..

Trevor fully admits it to himself when Christmas rolls up and Belle refuses to go back to New York. 

(“There’s no way I’m leaving you alone for Christmas, Trev,” she insists with an eye roll. “We’ll start our own tradition here. It’ll be great.”)

He doesn’t even try to hide his fondness as he watches Belle teetering at the edge of a chair to hang up lights around their living room. Some random Christmas playlist he had queued up at Belle’s prodding is playing through his speaker, and he doesn’t think “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” deserves the grin plastered on his face. 

Belle, though. She might deserve it. Be the origin of it, really. 

They make too many cookies that they'll have to gift his teammates and her coworkers just so they don’t end up eating all of them. They have holiday movies on in the background for three days straight, some they pay attention to, some they just leave on for background noise. On Christmas morning, after two cups of coffee on Belle’s end to deal with Trevor’s incessant rambling, they’re sat in the front of their tree. The curtains are drawn, offering minimal lighting into their living room. Yet, the twinkling lights on the tree and around their living room paint Belle in the warmest of lights. The blue fluffy blanket wrapped around her shoulders only adds to her softness and Trevor has to excuse himself after they exchange presents to go in the bathroom. 

He splashes cold water in his face and stares at himself. He’s fully in fucking love. Shit. 

…..

After that realization, he does the only thing that makes sense to him. Two days later, on the way to practice, he calls Jack. As the phone rings, he thinks that he probably should’ve checked to see if the Devils were playing today, but he also couldn’t be bothered. 

Three rings later, Jack’s scratchy voice is projected through Trevor’s car. “Hello?”

“Hey dude.”

“You’re cutting into my pre-game nap. This better be fucking good.”

“I think I’m in love with Belle.”

Silence. A rustle on Jack’s end, before, “Jesus Christ. I knew Amelie should’ve taken the day off today.”

“Jacky,” Trevor practically whines. “Be helpful.”

“Give me a second to think and I will be,” Trevor stops at a light. “Dude. I mean, not completely out of left field. But in love love? That’s big. Considering you only reconnected, what, three months ago?”

“Yeah, I know. Am I being stupid? And I need you to be real with me and tell me if I am.”

“No.”

“I’m not being stupid?”

“No, you’re not being stupid. Z, I knew I wanted to marry Amelie, like, two months after I met her, and we weren’t even dating yet. You and Isabelle have known each other since you were kids.”

“Yeah, but we lost touch for over a decade.”

“Okay and? You spent a good amount of time together when you went back home, right? And she lives with you now, right?”

“She was the only one around at home, and we’ve been living together for maybe a month.”

“Dude, are you trying to convince yourself you are in love with her or that you’re not?”

Trevor shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. Right.”

He hears Jack let out a sigh. “I know you’ve been burned in the past with relationships and stuff, but this is a good thing, okay? She’s a great person. Try not to freak out about it so much.”

“And do what instead?”

“I don’t know,” Jack says sarcastically. “Maybe tell her?”

“Absolutely not,” Trevor says. 

“Why not?”

Trevor’s about to tell him that Belle literally was supposed to be married a year ago but clamps his mouth shut. He’s not sure if Jack knows and that’s not his story to tell. “It’s just not a good idea.”

“Lame.”

“I’m gonna hang up and call literally anyone else.”

“Do it,” Jack challenges the empty threat, before softening. “Do you have any idea if she likes you back?”

“No,” Trevor says. “But I also haven’t been thinking about that because I don’t wanna…scare her off? I know she likes me as a friend, otherwise we wouldn’t be living together. But that’s probably all there is to it.”

“Maybe,” Jack says. “Or maybe you’re making assumptions. I’m not saying you have to do anything now, but you’re not stupid, Trev. Especially with stuff like this. And hey, at least you’re in love with someone as awesome as she is. Ooh, can you imagine you two getting married? It would be full circle!”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Trevor says as Jack chuckles. “Thanks, man. Seriously.”

“Anytime. And Z?” Trevor hums to tell Jack to go on. “Don’t beat yourself up so much. You don’t know until you ask.”

Those last two sentences echo through Trevor’s head for the rest of the day, even when he’s at practice and going through the drills. After so many years in the league, he usually always can leave his thoughts at the entrance of the rink and just focus on hockey. But not today. He can tell Troy wants to ask something, but he refrains. It’s not like a distracted Trevor appears often, and Trevor’s thankful his teammate doesn’t push. 

When the front door swings open that night and Belle calls out her greeting, Trevor is coming back from being outside the last few hours, where he sat and listened to the birds and just stared at the grass, lost in thought. 

Then Belle comes into view, gray sweater over a cream satin dress, tote bag on her shoulder and a tired but bright smile on her face, and Trevor’s not lost anymore. 

In fact, as she slides over to him in her socks across the hardwood floor and hugs him in greeting, immediately talking about what they should make for dinner tonight, Trevor’s never felt more sure of where he is and where he should be. 

…..

Trevor’s on a long roadie during Valentine’s Day, but he makes sure that he delivers flowers to the house before Belle has to get to work. He had spent an ungodly amount of time selecting which bouquet he wanted to send, and Jamie, the saint that he is, had only blinked when he saw what Trevor was looking at on his phone on the bus home from the game before Trevor could lock his phone. 

Imagine if it was Troy. Or Mason. Or fucking Leo, who’s just as much a menace as he was the first day Trevor met him. Everyone loves him and thinks he’s a darling, but Trevor knows better.

He ended up choosing a bouquet from Fresh Sends because the packaging looks sick with the newspaper and the bright colored box and the reviews are all high. Without hesitation, he had picked the largest bouquet, which he knew if Belle knew how much it cost, would probably kick him out of the house or something. But she doesn’t ever need to find out. On the bus, he had hastily typed out a custom note.

Belle, 

Happy Valentine’s Day!! Wish we could be watching shitty rom-coms together but I hope this makes up for it. Thankful to have you in my life again. See you when I get back!

Z

It’s not overly romantic, but he can’t exactly confess his love for her over a note when he’s across the country. If he ever confesses, he’s gonna tell her in person, not hide behind a note like a coward. 

He wakes up on February 14 in a hotel room with a bleary smile as he wipes the sleep away from his face. 

Belle of The Ball

*picture of the flowers*

Trevor!!! these are so so beautiful thank you

You really didn’t have to

Good luck against the Rangers tonight! And tell your parents (and mine) that i said hello❤️

Trevor nets two goals and an assist. He’s on top of the world. 

…..

He’s pleasantly surprised to see that he has an incoming call from Amelie on his way home from the rink a week later. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Hughes.”

Amelie chuckles. “Quinn’s gonna be devastated.”

“Quinner has nothing on you.”

“Flatterer,” she says dryly. 

“What’s up?”

“Jack told me. About you and Isabelle.”

Trevor almost snorts. When he first met Amelie, way back when they were in their early twenties, she had been way more hesitant on giving her opinion among Jack’s oldest friends. But with time, her sarcasm and vivacity came out, and while Trevor had been initially surprised and amused, it made sense. Anyone who would choose to spend their life with Jack Hughes has to be able to hold their own purely to rival his constant need for attention.

“Did he now?”

“You’re the worst. I’m not gonna tell you the same stuff he did, which by the way, I’m actually pretty impressed by. From the recap he gave me, he actually said some useful stuff. But I will say something that he forgot to tell you.”

“And what is that?”

“That you’re wonderful, Trevor.”

That’s not at all what he was expecting to come out of the photographer’s mouth. All he can muster out is an “Oh?”

“Yeah. And obviously Jack believes the same thing. You know that. But you’re such a lovely guy, Trevor. I’ve known that since the day we met, don’t get me wrong. But I-I’ve talked to Isabelle a few times since the wedding, and she always brings you up. And it’s always positive.”

“What does this have to do with my feelings for her?”

“Do you feel like maybe you feel like you’re not good enough for her? Is that partially why you’re hesitating on telling her? Take out the fact that she was in a long relationship before and broke off an engagement.”

He blinks. “She told you about the engagement thing?”

“Yeah. She came out to Jersey to grab dinner with Jack and I, like, two weeks before she moved to California and told us then. That’s not the point.”

He doesn’t remember Belle mentioning that. But like Amelie said, not the point. “I-I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Trevor. You’re one of the best people I know.”

“That can’t be true,” he tries to protest. 

“But it is,” Amelie presses on. “You’re loyal. You’re funny. You have the ability to make anyone feel comfortable, even if you just met them. Your infectious energy elevates every room you walk into. You care deeply about everyone in your life. You were the first of Jack’s friends to be so openly kind to me and you continued to be kind to me even when I didn’t deserve it.” 

“I’m loud. Harsh. Always has to be on the go or I get bored. Life of the party maybe and a fun time usually, but that’s it.”

Amelie scoffs. “Respectfully, shut the fuck up. Okay, you’re all of those things, so what? You think she doesn’t already know? She probably knows better than any of us. I get being hesitant to do anything because she’s maybe on a different page, I get that. But it’s not because you’re not good enough. Get that shit out of your head.”

Trevor has to laugh, both at the abruptness of this call and unbridled honesty from Amelie’s voice. “I’m not gonna lie. Getting chewed out by my best friend’s wife wasn’t on the list of things I expected today.”

“If you think I’m chewing you out now, you’re lucky Clementine doesn’t know about this yet.”

Trevor actually shudders at the possibility of Clementine Sandoval (well, Clementine Hischier as of two years ago but old habits die hard), lecturing him about this. He still remembers Clem’s lectures she would give Quinn, Jack and Luke when they were all in Michigan. They would usually be over the phone, since she was already out in California for school by then, but even at 17, Trevor knew she wasn’t someone to be messed with. Who else in the world, besides Ellen Weinberg-Hughes, can somehow lecture all three Hughes brothers successfully in one breath?

“She doesn’t?”

“Eh, usually she would. But she’s in her last trimester and Nico would kill me if I stressed her out more.”

And well, Trevor thinks that’s fair enough. He quiets again, thinking. “You think we could be a good match? Belle and I?”

“Yes,” Amelie says with no hesitation. “And I’m not going to tell you why, because I’m pretty sure deep down, you already know.” 

He kinda hates that she’s right. Damn, is he this easy to read? He hangs up, but not before promising to give her a call more often. 

As they’re leaving practice, Jamie nudges him with his shoulder. “How’s Isabelle?”

“She’s good. She has a wedding in Santa Monica this weekend so I haven’t seen her that much this week.” 

“She a good roommate?”

Trevor smirks and elbows him lightly. “Better than you ever were.”

Jamie’s jaw drops, indignant. “Hey! I was a great roommate, thank you very much.”

“You were, you were. Nah, she’s great. We did Christmas just the two of us and it was really nice.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Fuck off, Jimmy.”

“I’m just asking! She chose not to fly home and stayed here with you instead. Ever think about what that could mean?”

Trevor has thought about it a lot recently, actually. But Jamie doesn’t need to know that. He lets out an uncommitted noise, but the look on Jamie’s face tells him that he’s not fooling anyone. Least of all, one of his dearest friends. 

Trevor needs to tell her soon. Or get over it. 

…..

Trevor never thought to really ask Belle if she wanted to go to a game, which is weird, because why wouldn’t he want a friend out in the stands to cheer him on? But he also knows that Belle wouldn’t be afraid to just ask if she wanted to go, and that her ideal time to unwind after work isn’t necessarily to go into a rowdy arena. She’s perfectly content snuggling in on the couch and watching the game on TV.

But when he mentions that Cole and the Canadiens are coming into town to play, she perks up. During the whole wedding weekend, Trevor could tell that she got pretty comfortable with Cole. Which, to Trevor, makes complete sense. Cole has the ability to make friends quickly and genuinely anywhere he goes. He leaves a ticket on the counter before heading to morning skate, as well as a note allowing her permission to raid his closet for any Ducks merch she so desires to wear. 

The game is a fun battle that goes into OT, but Leo gets the game winner with an assist from Trevor and the Honda Center goes nuts. Trevor has plans to grab dinner with Cole and Belle, and he’s in good spirits during media before he meets up with Cole and goes outside to where he told Belle to meet them. 

The boys see her before she sees them. Belle’s leaning against the wall of the arena on her phone, one of his jerseys tucked into black jeans and a black blazer completing the look. Cole calls out her name and she immediately puts her phone away with a smile, letting Cole hug her tightly with a chuckle. Trevor trails behind, watching the scene in happiness. Trevor tells Belle where he made dinner reservations, and she gets into her own car to follow them. 

As Trevor watches Cole and Belle talk at dinner, it’s overwhelming, his love for her. Cole’s pulling out some old-school stories from way back during their program days and Belle’s absolutely loving it, pulling out some of her own stories from her college days and Trevor feels so fucking lucky. There’s a particular thing that Cole says that has her coughing up her water and she’s laughing so hard and Trevor feels so fucking fond. 

Tomorrow, he promises himself. He has to tell her tomorrow.

…..

He doesn’t tell her tomorrow. But in his defense, he has to go on a road trip and she’s busy at work. 

Somehow, after dinner with Cole, he had gone to sleep earlier than she did but had woken up before her to a short but sweet note on the kitchen counter. In her cursive, he smiles at her words. 

Trev, 

Thank you for dinner and a fun game <3 Wanted to tell you tonight but by the time I got out of the bathroom you were already in bed (old man). Good luck on your road trip to wherever!! 

Love, 

Belle

He takes the note and folds it carefully, tucking it into his wallet. 

…..

At the end of the day, he ends up just blurting it out. 

He comes home from the road trip to the smell of something absolutely delicious floating through the house. He peeks his head around the corner to see Belle flittering around the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. The oven beeps and Trevor decides to make his presence known. 

“Smells good in here.”

Belle looks over her shoulder and he realizes she’s wearing one of his Ducks hoodies he must’ve had lying around. She beams. “Hey! Welcome home. I felt like making some good old grilled cheese and tomato soup with some roasted vegetables because I guess we need those. Don’t tell your coaches if this fucks up your diet-”

“I love you.” 

And well, shit, because that’s definitely not how he pictured this going. For a split second, he thinks he imagined it. But Belle freezes, her back towards him, and he has no idea what to do.

After what seems like a lifetime, she turns off the stove and turns around. “What?”

Trevor walks forward, “I love you. I’m in love with you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that’s okay! I really don’t want this to change anything between us because I love our friendship. But I-I had to say it because it’s driving me crazy not saying it.”

“Trevor-”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. Y-you’re such an important part of my life and I really hope this didn’t fuck everything up-”

Belle rushes towards him to put her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to stop his hands from shaking, staring at his feet. He’s breathing really fast, but Belle’s orange blossom perfume and touch calms him down ever so slightly. 

“You good?”

He swallows roughly. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” she says softly. He gets the courage to look at her face. He sees her smile and he can’t help but smile too. She clears her throat. “I-I thought it was clear, but I guess I’m out of practice. I feel the same way, Trevor. I like you a lot. Maybe not…love. Yet. B-but you’ve become my favorite person. And these last few months have been so…lovely. I just-I haven’t said anything because I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

“That’s okay,” Trevor rushes to assure. Because holy shit, she likes him back? This was farther than he thought he was going to get. He chuckles lightly. “I…shit. Sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact you like me like that.”

“Trevor,” she trails her hands down his arms to grab both of his hands. “Of course I do.”

“Oh,” he says softly. 

Belle’s eyes water, and Trevor immediately feels the surge to make her feel better. “But I don’t know if I’m ready, Trev. I don’t know when I will be. And I can’t be the asshole and ask you to wait.”

“Why not?” Trevor challenges.

Belle looks at him incredulously. “Because that’s unfair.”

“Well too bad. Because I’m not gonna listen to you.”

“What?”

“As long as you need. Take your time. I mean it. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I promise.”

She bites her lip, “Trevor, you can’t possibly promise something like that.”

“I can, actually. And I will.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it, before laughing. She squeezes her eyes shut as he places his hands on her cheeks to cup her face. “Okay.”

He raises an eyebrow playfully. “You’re not gonna fight me?”

She shakes her head. “You’ve never been the kind of person to back down.”

He laughs and he so wants to kiss her. But he doesn’t, instead just placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll let me know when you’re ready?”

“If you’re still around,” she jokes. 

Trevor grins, his heart growing four times its size. He feels like it might explode out of his chest. “I’ll always be around for you.”

[vickyvicarious]

I noticed something that I thought you may find interesting as you like parallels: When Jack is on his rock bottom (July 20th), he says

To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it will be until the Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance to profit or loss. Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you, nor can I be angry with my friend whose happiness is yours; but I must only wait on hopeless and work. Work! work! If I only could have as strong a cause as my poor mad friend there—a good, unselfish cause to make me work—that would be indeed happiness.

On October 3 Jonathan starts his journal like this:

As I must do something or go mad, I write this diary. [...] Poor Mina told me just now, with the tears running down her dear cheeks, that it is in trouble and trial that our faith is tested—that we must keep on trusting; and that God will aid us up to the end. The end! oh my God! what end?... To work! To work!

It's pretty fascinating how Jonathan starts his narration as a hopeful, enthusiastic man, full of purpose, and becomes similar to the wreck that Jack was at the start, post-rejection, losing hope and clinging furiously to working, to not lose his mind.

Work! To work! That is a fun parallel to be sure...

Actually, I've noted before that Jonathan and Jack start out in opposition to one another in a lot of ways:

engaged to be married vs proposal rejected

recent career advancement and excited about it vs already well established but still clearly wanting to make his mark somehow

held prisoner by someone who calls him 'friend' and abuses power over him vs abusing the power he holds over someone in his care who he calls 'friend' (and all the various subsets of this one, such as 'gets his correspondence read' to 'reads private diary of his patient', etc.)

isolated by force vs chooses to isolate himself (not entirely but he definitely does retreat into work)

sleep-deprived due to being forced into a nocturnal schedule vs appears to regularly suffer insomnia/have bad habits around sleep

coded secret diary on pencil and paper vs audio diary spoken aloud into a phonograph at work

In the very beginning, Jonathan is also looking forward very much to his future, while as you point out, Jack is pretty miserable. He is ending his former life, closing a chapter. Meanwhile Jonathan is starting one - though it doesn't turn out to be the one he expects by any means.

I've not really considered the ways that those comparisons may shift later, though. October 3rd is definitely a close to a former chapter/life and the start of a new one for Jonathan. And he too struggles a lot with keeping up hope and throws himself into his work, his cause.

(While Jack wished in vain for a cause that would let him throw all his morals away, and looks to the idea of that as something that would make the work more effective in easing his own distress, Jonathan has a cause right away. And he later determines that he will throw his morals away if it come to that but is working ceaselessly to ensure it won't. Though he too has plenty of moments when there is no real action he can take and he "must only wait on hopeless" while they are trying to catch Dracula's ship.)

And while Jonathan never is romantically rejected, there's later a door shut between him and Mina, and there's this huge unspoken tension of what to do if she becomes a vampire. On the other hand, Jack was never accepted as Lucy's lover, but he does later on get closer to her as a friend while she is his patient. Their careers also switch emphasis a bit; though both abandon everything to go vampire hunting, prior to that Jonathan inherits everything and can put his name on it, while Jack is exhausted from treating Lucy and not keeping up super well with his work/patients. Increasingly after his arrival but especially when chasing after Dracule, Jack is in fairly close communication with Van Helsing and working as a team, but Jonathan gets very quiet and withdrawn when Mina is turning into a vampire (he always was but when he's not all living flame, in the aftermath of October 3 he appears even more so). We even get a little bit of Jonathan refusing to sleep when he should/can (until Arthur convinces him), while Jack is traveling at a rapid pace but his likely sacrifice of sleep is necessary to keep up that pace (and he claims it doesn't bother him). Jonathan kills his former captor/abuser. Jack's patient dies after he refused to let him leave when he begged to do so.

...If I'm looking for them, I can definitely find various ways they continue to be in contrast later in the novel as well.

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

Hope you're having a good day/night! I come with a request if you want to write it (if not then that's cool!) What about a Charles Smith x reader where it's like 2 or three months after leaving with him to help the Wapiti people and reader finds out shes pregnant, and is super worried to tell him because of everything going on, of course he finds out though.

a promising future

☆ thank you for requesting! i love charles so much and i had fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading <3 !!

warnings - pregnancy ( lmk if i'm missing any ! )

w/c - 1.8k

it had been nearly three months since the downfall of the van der linde gang. you and charles had decided to stay up north with the wapiti people and help them get to safety, rather than go back to beaver hollow. this gang had meant a lot to you, and the fact that it was falling apart was hard for you. you were close to so many members, including a couple who had unfortunately already passed away. you knew it was inevitable, but you had decided you’d rather not see the absolute end, so you stayed with charles. he was all you needed anyways, he was the love of your life, and he meant everything to you.

you and charles helped rains fall and the wapiti people pack up and move up north to canada, helping them get away from colonel favours and the army, in hopes of giving them as much freedom and peace as possible. you were happy to help, rains fall and his people were nothing but kind to you, and they deserved the best they could get. however with the stress of helping them out, you started to feel sick, and oh so exhausted. it’s just stress. i’m not resting enough. i haven’t been drinking enough water. you tried to convince yourself. deep down you knew that wasn’t true, but you didn’t want to add any more stress to you or charles’ life.

you and charles hadn’t exactly been careful when you’d slept together recently. you hadn’t had much time to yourselves, so you took advantage of every moment alone, which resulted in neither of you caring about where he finished. you had been around when abigail was pregnant with jack, and you had a lot of the same symptoms she did back then. there was no doubt in your mind that you were pregnant, and you were terrified.

you wanted to tell charles, you really did, but with everything going on these past few months you could never find a good time. you figured the last thing he needed right now was to be told that he was going to be a father, that you had a baby on the way. you knew that normally, under any other circumstances he’d be happy. but now he was working day and night, doing what he could to help the tribe get settled, helping with the sick, and getting them what they needed. you didn’t want him to worry about you and your baby on top of that.

you knew charles had noticed you were out of sorts, of course he had. he was very observant when it came to you especially, and you caught him looking at you worriedly here and there over the past few weeks. he knew you’d come to him when you were ready to talk, so he didn’t pry.

you were lost in your thoughts, helping with the laundry with some other tribe members. you heard someone come up behind you and rest their hand on your shoulder, you knew immediately who it was. he brushed your hair to the side, kissing your neck gently. you leaned into his touch, humming happily.

“hi charles” you said with a smile.

“hi, my love,” he said, placing another soft kiss to your jaw. “i was going to go out and hunt and get something for dinner, i was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

you smile, and nod. “yeah sure, i’m just about finished with laundry anyways.” you wrung the water out of the shirt you were washing, laying it out on a rock to dry. standing up, you wiped your hands on your skirt and turned around to face charles, grabbing his hand as he led you to your horses.

“have you found any good hunting spots around here yet?” you say, patting taima gently and making your way over to your own horse, tightening his saddle and giving him a sugar cube.

“i found one decent spot close to here that had a bunch of deer, other than that i haven’t had much time to hunt.” he made sure taima’s saddle was secure and mounted her, waiting for you to do the same.

you hummed in response, mounting your own horse and riding beside charles out of the tribe’s current camp.

the ride was quiet, but not awkward. there was a lot of comfortable silence between the two of you, which you never minded. he led you a short while away from camp to a grassy clearing next to a thick grove of trees, where you saw a herd of deer lazily grazing.

he held his finger up to his lips, motioning you to be quiet so you didn’t scare away the deer. you nodded, slowly and quietly getting off your horse and drawing your bow from your saddle bag, charles doing the same.

you crouched down next to him, stealthily making your way closer to the deer. you got close enough that you’d be able to land a good shot, but still far enough away that you wouldn’t scare the herd. you both drew your bows, aiming at different deer. charles landed a clean shot, and while yours wasn’t as clean you both managed to take down the two deer with just one arrow each.

charles looked over at you with a smile, “nice work as always, my love.” he grabbed one of your hands, kissing the back of it gently.

“i could say the same to you.” you said with a smile.

you both stand up, making your way over to the deer, slinging the one you killed over the back of your horse and securing it. usually a quick hunt such as this wasn’t too tiring, but you were quickly starting to feel exhausted. you watched as charles secured his deer on taima’s rump. he then made his way over to you, looking into your eyes deeply, as if he could read all your thoughts.

“are you feeling okay? i know we’ve had a lot going on but you seem... distracted?” he took your hands in his.

you took a deep breath. you needed to tell him. he deserved to know. god, how do you even tell someone this? would he be upset? would he be excited? your mind was racing, your hands shaking in his. you started to tear up, your anxiety taking over.

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he pulled you in for a hug, running his hand up and down your back comfortingly.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, trying to collect yourself and your thoughts. charles didn’t press further, he just continued to hold you until you were ready to talk.

you took another deep breath and took a step back, looking him in the eyes. tell him. he looked worried. tell him. he continued to run his hand up and down your back comfortingly. tell. him.

“i’m pregnant.”

he stiffened slightly, his eyes going wide. “really?” he looked you up and down slowly. “you’re actually…?”

you nodded, looking away from him and at some random spot in the dirt. “yes. i’m sorry, charles.” you said quietly.

“sorry? my love, why are you sorry? this is great news!” he replied immediately, his hands moving to cup your face gently.

“we’ve had so much going on lately… i was worried that you’d be upset because we’ve been so stressed between everything that’s happened between the gang and the tribe...” you rambled, pausing for a moment. “you’re happy then?” you looked back at him, your eyes starting filling with tears once again, this time happy ones.

“of course i’m happy. sure we’ve been busy, but i love you, and i’m more than excited to start a family with you. in fact i’ve been wanting to start a family with you, and now that we’re out of the gang, we don’t have as much to worry about. no more bounties on our heads and pinkertons breathing down our necks.” he grinned. “and i have to be honest, i suspected you might be pregnant, but i hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to you about it.” he chuckled, wiping a stray tear that slipped down your cheek. he looked you in the eyes, then leaned down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

he wasn’t upset at all. he wants this, he wants a family. he’s happy. you kissed him back, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

you let out a sob as you pulled away, tears flowing down your cheeks. “i’m so glad.” you laughed, relieved. of course he was happy, why wouldn’t he be?

you giggled as he peppered kisses across your face, kissing away your tears. he pulled you in for another kiss on the lips, soft, sweet, and passionate. you didn’t pull away until you were both out of breath, resting your forehead against his.

“i love you.” you sighed.

“i love you so much.” you stayed like that for a moment before he reached into his satchel and pulled out a little envelope excitedly. “i almost forgot to tell you, i got us a place. it’s not much as of right now, but i’ll fix it up real nice for us. for our family.” he showed you the deed, which confirmed his statement.

you grinned, kissing him again. “oh charles, this is wonderful, thank you. thank you so much. how did you even afford this?”

“i’ve been saving as much as i can from all the jobs we used to go on while we were in the gang. it wasn’t much at first, but it added up.” he smiled. “we’ll still help out the tribe, of course, but i thought it was about time we got a place of our own. i want our baby to live a better life then we have, and i’ll do anything to make that happen, you hear?” he grabbed your chin gently. “i’ll do anything to make you and our baby happy, because if you’re happy, im happy.” he pulled you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head gently.

you stayed like that for a while, the rest of the world around you forgotten. for all you cared it was just you and charles in that moment. eventually as the sun started to sink below the trees, you decided it was time to head back to camp, lest the spoils of your hunt go to waste. you mounted your horses and made your way back to camp together, happier then you had been in a while. for once your future looked promising, and you were more than happy to be spending it with charles, and eventually your baby.

[lexiepiper]

Strange Relations

Hey @five-rivers happy truce! Sorry for being a little bit late, life got crazy.

I combined two of your prompts - Prompt 2: Clockwork gets sick of how Jack and Maddie treat Danny and spirits him away. Jack and Maddie must prove to Clockwork that they'll do better by completing his challenges. Whether or not they succeed is up to you. Prompt 4: Soft and cozy body horror. Lots of tactile texture and gentleness. Positive ending. :)

I hope you enjoy it! I’m a big fan of a lot of your writing and so tried to embody your masterful grasp of the abstract and eldritch, with a few references to some of the different elements/versions of Danny I’ve seen in your works.

The fic can be read here on ao3, or in this tumblr post.

...

Time is a mortal construct. At least, the understanding of its measurement is. For Clockwork, the markers of its passage were far less significant. What care did he need to have for weekdays, or hours, or the amount of revolutions around the sun?

He measured by different means.

How long it took for his endangered plants to sprout, grow tall, and flower or bear fruit.

The stretching eddies of dynasties rising and falling, and the outward-extending ramifications throughout the history of humankind.

The slow, awful rhythms of celestial bodies that he could barely parse even after aeons of watching the universe unfold in their rippling influences.

Mostly, he measured his time through the things he observed. Once he interacted with something it became difficult to ascertain its final path — like ripples obscuring the bottom of a small pond if you tried to put your hand into the water. The image only stayed clear so long as he refrained from touching it.

That being said, it was another regular morning when Daniel Fenton’s parents shot him out of the sky for the one hundredth time. A Tuesday, if anybody was keeping track.

Clockwork measured time by things that piqued his interest. Patterns, irregularities, and notable things in between that brought him any sense of emotion beyond simple detached interest.

So, he noticed, and he cared. He cared enough to burn.

One hundred times.

He burned hot with anger, his core flaring with a fire that he’d forgotten he harboured, and Clockwork was no longer able to hold himself back from plunging his hand into the pond despite all of the restrictions and regulations that normally kept him in his place.

The parade vanished, his vision of the future clouded, and within a mere selection of months, Clockwork found himself on the cusp of crossing the threshold of one of the only spaces beyond the time stream.

The place had many names, as did its denizens. There was no true way to define them, and perhaps that was the point of it all. The building changed depending on the perspective from which one tried to take it in, its architecture shifting from angle to angle. One moment it seemed as though it was a drab twentieth-century office with soap-bubble windows and floors that reached into blurry uncertainty. Then the building shifted, almost imperceptibly, and its peeling brick facade melted into the carved columns of an ancient Greek pantheon, complete with a sprawling copse of ancient olive trees that quietly creaked as ghosts moved between them. A moment later, and it was a connected city of tents strung with colourful banners that fluttered in a nonexistent breeze, flaps propped open with sticks with seemingly no coherent system that could be discerned by the outside observer.

Clockwork drifted across an invisible barrier and it ruffled his essence like the sudden breath of air conditioning one felt when entering a supermarket on a hot day.

The tent city’s trampled grass shifted to polished tiles, smooth beneath Clockwork’s boots as his core sank into dormancy and bade him land. The lack of ability was discomfiting but he shook it off and walked purposefully to the revolving doors of a great glass skyscraper, his cloak drifting around his ankles pleasantly with the sudden gravitational assertion over his typically-spectral body.

Being forced into a single form was more unpleasant even than the temporary binding of his powers, but Clockwork spared at least a sliver of gratitude that his default was that of an adult that appeared to be roughly in his thirties. If he were a child or an old man, it might damage his chances, depending on the test that the council ended up choosing.

The door spun on its center pole as he approached, its glass panes flashing in the light of a swarm of tiny blob ghosts that flitted around its interior segments. Their cores, like those of the denizens of this zone, were unfettered, as they were not here with a petition for review. It was a relief to see them, enjoying the neutral safe space and clearly having fun as they bounced around the entryway with glee.

Their purity reminded him of the severity of his purpose here, and as he stepped into a gleaming glass lobby that shifted into a sun-washed garden an approximation of a secretary rose from the path in front of him. It was faceless and blank, and Clockwork stood still as it passed an appendage that might have been a hand over the clock casing embedded in his chest.

The being didn’t speak, but he understood nonetheless when it confirmed his identity as applicant Clockwork the Timekeeper.

The pleasant sound of running water deeper into the garden paused for a moment, and the intermingled murmur of voices and birdsong went quiet. He figured that it wasn’t every day that someone as consequential as himself came here, but he shrugged off the feeling of being observed. The lull was only brief, and ambient noise resumed before Clockwork could do more than wonder yet again if he’d chosen the correct course.

The wondering, in and of itself, was nothing new. As soon as he’d reached through his viewing screen to scoop up a bleeding Daniel his vision had clouded, and since then, he’d done nothing but wonder.

He could have tried to just keep the boy, to adopt him by force and never let him go back to the life and people who were so horrible to him, but as he followed the secretary down a path through verdant twelve-foot ferns dappled with sunlight and filled with flashes of jewelled dragonflies, Clockwork’s doubts faded. He reminded himself that by surrendering Daniel to the protective grasp of the impartial council while taking the time to go through all of the proper applications, nobody would be able to dispute his relationship with the child on the other side. It was the only way to make Daniel permanently, irrevocably his, and despite his current inability to see the outcome for himself, Clockwork knew that there was no way he would fail the test.

The path ended abruptly in a freestanding stone door, ornately decorated with a mosaic fresco of towering creatures that Clockwork didn’t recognise from any reality that he was privy to observing. It swung open soundlessly as he approached, and beyond its threshold stretched an unremarkable hallway. The paint was yellow with either age or poor lighting, or perhaps a combination of the two, and the floor was worn threadbare carpet that might have once been a colour but was now more of a faded light brown.

There were no doors or windows, and when Clockwork stepped onto the carpet the guide shut the freestanding door behind them, cutting off the light and sounds of the garden. He didn’t need to breathe, but the mustiness of the corridor stuck to his throat anyway, and he followed wordlessly when his guide kept moving.

It took several minutes for them to reach another door. This one matched the hallway they were in, being remarkably plain with a little brass plaque at head height.

He couldn’t read the language, but entered anyway when motioned to do so.

The guide didn’t follow, and the door clicked shut behind him as Clockwork blinked in the warm light that spilled through a large window. The room seemed to be a small office, but it was homely, with abstract artwork on the wall and nice armchairs both in front of and behind the desk.

The person sitting at the desk was also faceless, but unlike the neutral tones of the secretary, it was wearing flowing fabric that shimmered between cool tones with each small movement.

It gestured to one of the armchairs and Clockwork sat, feeling as welcomed as he would have by a smile and friendly words. It would have been rude to speak when his host did not, so he stayed quiet and exuded his own pleasantries nonverbally, as some ghosts were wont to do. It seemed to be the right move, because the person nodded and Clockwork sensed its warm appreciation.

It opened a drawer and produced a slim file, sliding it across the desk to rest in front of him, and Clockwork recognised the paperwork that he had so painstakingly filled out over the past several months. The registration and application process had been long and arduous, and Daniel had been kept from all interested parties for the duration. He’d been kept here, in fact, but Clockwork knew that he had no hope of interacting with the boy before the petition trial was complete.

He skimmed through the papers, noting the extra stamp at the end of each page. The final page had a line to sign, and when he glanced up at the faceless being it beckoned for him to hold out his hand.

He did so, and it drew off his glove, exposing the pale blue flesh of Clockwork’s palm. With a sharp swipe a letter opener flashed across his hand and green ectoplasm welled in its wake, and Clockwork allowed his hand to be tilted so that a few drops fell onto the paper just above the line. It soaked in until it disappeared, leaving the white parchment spotless, and then Clockwork’s name etched itself out in flowing green script.

The person nodded approvingly and offered a strip of plain white cloth, which Clockwork allowed it to use to bandage his bleeding hand. Usually such a trifle wouldn’t be an issue, with the power to simply shift time around the wound and immediately heal, but with his abilities bound by this interdimensional space he would have to make do with the far more mundane option.

He reclaimed his glove but tucked it into his belt when the person shook its head at his attempt to put it back on. The bandage on his hand stood out starkly against the dark tones of his clothing, and he realised that it was a badge of honour, signifying that he’d come far enough to be considered a candidate for the judgement.

The being shuffled the papers back into order and rose from its chair, tilting its head in an unspoken request to follow when it moved towards the door. Clockwork complied, and when it opened he was not faced with the same hallway that he’d walked down before, but a large atrium filled with silver light that spilled through a delicately domed glass ceiling.

They entered on one of the upper levels that hugged the round wall of the space. It was a narrow walkway that led to individual evenly-spaced boxes, each holding a single seat. They called to mind witness boxes, although the chairs were carved from the same marble as the walls and floors, and inlaid with plush green velvet.

The lower level of the room was blocked from view by a shimmering barrier of black smoke that sparkled as though filled with stars. Clockwork watched it as he walked, and it drifted with the slow, soothing movements of gentle eddies. He looked up again once they reached the nearest box, and allowed himself to be ushered into the seat. It was even softer than it looked, and once he sat the same starry mist rose around him and cut off all sight.

He hoped he wouldn’t have to wait long, but quieted any irritation at the delay. Time was nothing, after all. He just needed to win the case for custody of Daniel, and then there would be all of the time in the universe, both known and unknown.

He comforted himself with that knowledge, and whiled away the waiting by planning the things that he’d do once he took Daniel home. It was a topic that had become a favourite among his daydreams, and he’d already prepared a room that was draped in constellations and held all of the comforts that the boy could possibly want. Beyond that, he’d already begun to make changes to Long Now. The clock tower, while perfect for Clockwork alone, was not conducive to the rounded development of a child’s core. As he’d laboured through the application process, Clockwork had changed much, working on making shared spaces like the kitchen and garden habitable for a halfa, and private spaces, such as his own viewing room, at least safe for Daniel to spend time in should the opportunity arise. After all, children always ended up where one least expected them to be able to reach.

His ability to sense time was unavailable here, but Clockwork still felt that his wait stretched for longer than was comfortable. He resisted the urge to leave his seat for a stretch, since technically he didn’t need one. This may be a part of the process itself, determining if he possessed the necessary patience to nurture a wilful creature such as Daniel.

Some time later, the smoke around him thinned, then dissolved in a breath of cool air. Clockwork blinked in the silver light, realising that since he had sat down he had been unable to hear anything aside from the small chimes and noises of his own internal rhythms. Now, he recognised the low murmur of voices in a tongue he couldn’t comprehend, and when he glanced down toward the noise he saw a platform jutting from the wall just above the cloudy barrier that was still in place below. It was crammed with figures that blurred Clockwork’s vision, and whenever he tried to focus on a single detail all others slipped into fuzziness until he could no longer recall anything.

These must be members of the infamous council, removed from the affairs of the infinite realms and truly impartial in every meaning of the term. They stood only for justice and harmony, maintaining delicate balances and judging only the most significant cases across realities.

Clockwork glanced up at the giant moon through the window, the source of the brilliant silver light. It was peppered with craters not dissimilar to Earth’s, likely to help put Daniel at ease with what he would be going through right now, and stars blazed in the cosmos that outlined the moon in a thin band between its edge and the round windowpane.

The same smoke that had shrouded him also drifted around the other boxes, which had been empty when he had first entered the atrium, and Clockwork tried not to show interest as it began to thin and reveal the people within.

Of course, Vladimir Masters would have been one to request inclusion as a candidate. He sat smugly in his space in the full ghastly splendour of his ghost form, and as his shroud dissolved into nothing he smirked at the other candidates before looking at Clockwork with a clearly confused lack of recognition.

The sight of the other two candidates, each in their own individual boxes, struck Clockwork’s soul like a flint, setting loose a spark of anger that he fought to keep from showing on his face. He forced himself to relax his shoulders and keep his hands loose in his lap, resisting the urge to grind his teeth as Madeline and Jack Fenton looked around. Their expressions were slack with awe, mouths open and eyes wide as they gazed at the surrounding splendour which they should have never had a right to witness.

He tamped down on the unruly emotion, reminding himself that each of them had a solid claim on Daniel, and that this was the only fair way to determine true rights to parentage. There was nobody else, and he was initially surprised at the lack of Frostbite, considering the level of support that he had provided over the past few years. He wondered if the relationship was less one of parentage and more one of worship and awe that blended into camaraderie, but brushed off any suppositions before they could colour his perception. Conjecture was useless right now, and he knew that he’d be able to piece things together later, once his powers were restored.

Madeline opened her mouth and clearly called for her husband, but no sound left her lips. Her brow pinched in building panic, and she tried again, with the same result. Vladimir waved a hand and her attention snapped to him, her panic melting into something harder and more accusatory as he shook his head and pressed his fingers to the hollow in his own throat.

Clockwork wondered at the display. Surely they’d been briefed as to the rules of the trial, including the inability to communicate verbally once it had commenced so that they would not be able to distract Daniel or each other throughout the process. Now that he saw who he was competing with for custody he wondered if this safeguard was to also arrest any untoward exchanges between ghosts and hunters.

A soft chime rang through the atrium, and all four of them looked down at the group of assembled judges. The speech in the unknown tongue had stopped, and they were gathered in a perfect line along their platform, watching silently. One rose from the middle of the line, floating into the centre of the room and nodding to each of the applicants in turn. You each hold claim to Daniel James Fenton Phantom as your child, a genderless voice whispered inside Clockwork’s mind, and each of you in turn has passed the preliminary application process when you were informed of the request for a custody ruling. This trial will determine which, if any, of you can recognise his deepest needs and see beyond your own ideals to accept who he truly is.

Out of the children below, all of them are the one to which you lay claim. You will see all stages of his becoming as individual persons. To pass this trial, you must understand him deeply enough to know which form is his final one, and offer a contrite and willing heart to heal his hurts and nurture him as he truly requires.

Take as long as you need, and from this moment, you will not be able to meet each other’s eyes or share any information that you may glean with other candidates.

May balance and justice be restored.

A stillness settled over Clockwork’s soul, all anger and irritation at his competition melting away as the chime sounded again and the judge returned to their spot in the line. The barrier of mist dispersed, revealing a round open space below them. There was a plush green carpet scattered with white pillows and blankets, and dozens of children were strewn amongst the softness.

Each one of them was Daniel, in varying stages of being and becoming.

Clockwork glimpsed a flash of pain on Jack Fenton’s face before his vision tunnelled, and then he could see nothing but the children bathed in silver light.

Daniel lay on a large floor cushion, breathing heavily as smoke coiled from his singed hair and clothing. His fresh lichtenberg scar pulsed an angry, deadly green, visible even through the suit that his parents had so lovingly custom made, unaware that it would become his funerary shroud. His uninjured hand lay over his heart as he panted, eyes closed, pain clear in his furrowed brows and gritted teeth.

The echo of black bones was barely there, but when he sucked in another breath one could glimpse deep, dark eye sockets and a jawline like a smudge of charcoal beneath semi-translucent skin that held the blue pall of death.

It was hardly his truest form, but still, the moment of his death was difficult to see.

Clockwork caught his cheek between his teeth and looked at the others.

One Daniel held himself like a superhero, hands on his hips and his shoulders thrown back with a jaunty smile on his face. His hair and white cape rustled in a nonexistent wind and he just… stood there, suspended in a snapshot of time.

Nearby slept the featureless figure of a child bathed in the fabric of the night sky, every inch of skin liquid with a flowing firmament that dripped and swirled with the rise and fall of his small, fragile chest. He stirred but did not wake, murmuring wordless nonsense sounds of contentment from whatever dreamland had claimed him. He was laying on one of the white blankets with his head resting on a folded arm, and another blanket pooled around his lower half, giving the impression of the night sky glimpsed through a gap between clouds.

As Clockwork watched, the stars and galaxies on his skin of liquid darkness bloomed into brilliant nebulae and sank into spirals that grew ever brighter as they dropped into cores of black holes, and it was as though he were watching the entire unfolding of a universe contained within a single person.

Beyond, there was commotion. Daniel’s wings were coming in, and he shivered as plumes of feathers overtook him in sprays that created layer upon layer of new appendages. There was an aborted noise, as though he tried to cry out, but then that dissolved into gentle bell-like chimes that slowly smoothed into a calmer cadence. The darkness in his hair and clothing were quickly overcome, melting away into more and more soft fluff until he was nothing more than a mass of glowing white feathers and wings draped with silken fabric. The child hovered momentarily, as though uncertain, before shivering again and fluttering over to sink into a pile of pillows and blankets that had been arranged to resemble a nest, perfectly sized for this new form.

Yet another Daniel was also changing, splitting beyond his skin until the husk of a body disintegrated into nothing and released a cloud of lime green essence that roiled and foamed until it dripped down into the gelatinous shape of a blob ghost. It peered around with wide green eyes devoid of whites or pupils, quivering but not yet able to take any greater form. When nothing else seemed to happen it began to fly around the room, moving frantically at first like a trapped bird, but slowly settling into a more leisurely pace once the shock of the change wore off and it found no way to leave.

There were many more, a few scores at least, and Clockwork took the time to carefully observe each and every one of them from his vantage point high up on the wall. While many seemed initially confused or distressed, and some even pained, they all slowly drifted into various stages of calm restfulness. One factor that linked each child was a note of softness, whether overt like the feathered shape or the space child, or more subdued, like the smudged bones and gentle smoke of Daniel’s first ghostly iteration, or the way that some of the harsher forms blurred into wisps at the edges, as though unfinished.

This was, after all, a distillation of essence. They were all Daniel, but only one of them was what he became when purified down into his truest form. Clockwork just needed to put aside any latent bias he might still hold, and look for the version that embodied Daniel at his most honest self.

There was one that caught Clockwork’s attention, sitting on a floor cushion with his head tilted up to watch the moon beyond the domed glass ceiling. His eyes were voids of darkness swathed with stars, and his slender body drifted like smoke when he moved to adjust his position.

He was clothed in a loose starry shirt that frayed at the edges into a pattern of Amity Park’s skyline lit with street lights and suburban buildings, but when he moved again the hemline morphed into an imitation of the swirling eddies of the ghost zone.

His death scar faded the longer he looked up at the sky until it was nothing more than the barest impression of a shadow on his skin, and stress lines smoothed away from his face as his mouth curved into a soft smile. He was wearing plain dark pants, form-fitting but clearly comfortable, and his feet were bare, toes curling in the thick green carpet as though it were grass. There were frost flowers in his hair and the stars in his eyes glinted blue and green as he stared straight to the heavens.

This child was equal parts incorporeal and solid, his past painful traumas clear but exactly that: in the past. His frame was so small and appeared frail in comparison to many of the others, but his aura shone beyond his boundaries with a soft, steady glow. Clockwork sensed a childlike curiosity that had not been present in the others, clear with a desire to drink in the knowledge of the universe in a safe environment at his own pace.

He shook himself when he realised that he’d been staring at this child for far longer than the rest. This version of Daniel was everything that Clockwork wanted for him, but just as he prepared to make his choice, he paused.

Was this truly Daniel, or simply the Daniel that he wished for? This was a test, after all. Each candidate must see a version that embodied what they desired the most in a child.

No, the true question here was which form embodied what Daniel most desired.

Clockwork looked again, carefully examining each version of the child he hoped to adopt. He would only get one chance at this, and if he failed, he would not be permitted to see Daniel again. He had to get this right.

He surveyed the room several more times, and each time, he was drawn back to the one staring up at the sky. Slowly, as he eliminated each other version as possibly being Daniel’s true self, he realised that perhaps the reason that he was so drawn to the peaceful, inquisitive, happy person who seemed to truly embody the balance between life and death was because this was the way things were meant to be. Clockwork knew Daniel as well as he knew himself, and he knew when he recognised the essence of the child that belonged in the safety of his care.

He made his decision, clasping his hands and leaning back in his seat. His vision cleared as he did so and restored his view of the rest of the room, revealing again the line of impassive, featureless judges and the other three people trying to lay their claims in this soul-deep custody battle.

It appeared that Madeline and Vladimir had finished ahead of him, which was expected, given the amount of times Clockwork had reviewed what he saw before choosing his child. They were both looking about the room and occasionally glancing down at the children, but none of their eyes met the other candidates’. Much of the pomp and pride had drained away from both of them, the hard lines of their shoulders and jaws smoothing into something gentler.

He turned away from them and looked back up at the moon. Now that he was removed from the pressure of choice he felt a wash of anguish for the changes that Daniel had clearly gone through, mindful of the pain and confusion he would have felt as he had cycled through those different forms until he had settled into his essence. It chafed, knowing that Clockwork had not been there to comfort him during the different stages of becoming.

Movement from the adjacent box caught his attention and Clockwork glanced over to see Jack Fenton still staring at the assortment of Daniels. Tears freely flowed from puffy red eyes and he wiped his bandaged hand beneath his nose before mouthing Daniel’s nickname. It was both fascinating and satisfying in equal parts, but Clockwork looked away quickly, trying to school himself lest the judges sense anything untoward in his feelings and dismiss his claim on the basis of unacceptable levels of bias. He didn’t know if it was a possibility in this case, but he'd heard of it happening before and didn’t want to take the risk.

Besides, he admitted to himself for the first time, if Jack was here then he clearly showed enough determination to care for Daniel’s needs and right past wrongs to qualify for a claim.

It took a while longer for Jack to make a decision, and Clockwork watched his own preferred child in the interim. The longer he looked the more peaceful he felt, surer with every passing moment that he had made the correct choice.

Eventually Jack leaned back, scrubbing his hands over his drenched cheeks as his shoulders trembled with silent residual sobs.

The dark starry barrier rolled back over the lowest tier, hiding the children from view once more. The judges dissipated into nothing and their platform melted away, leaving a smooth, featureless patch of wall in their wake.

Clockwork turned when something shifted beside him, and a guide who could have been the same one from earlier beckoned for him to leave through a door that materialised in the stretch of wall behind them.

He obeyed, sending one last glance to the people who had dared to challenge his claim to custody as they were similarly ushered away. Madeline frowned when she finally caught his gaze, and he only had a brief moment to wonder what she was thinking before he stepped into an office that mirrored the one in which he had signed the papers, except that the artworks on the walls were hand-painted starscapes interspersed with planets and nebulae that he didn’t recognise.

Through a door on the opposite wall stepped Jack Fenton.

A judge was waiting behind the desk, and motioned for the two of them to sit. Clockwork moved numbly, his mind racing as he took one of the armchairs while Jack collapsed into the other one. The man was still crying, the cuffs of his sleeves and the white bandage around one hand soggy from repeatedly wiping his face.

The judge looked to both of them in turn, the only indication of its shifting focus a subtle turning of the head. Congratulations on your joint custody of Daniel James Fenton Phantom, that same soft not-voice said, slipping between Clockwork’s thoughts. The pre-prepared living space in Long Now has been approved as his new residence, with minor changes required to accommodate the presence of Jack Fenton. No other persons are to interact with your child for the next six months without the approval of this court while he settles into his distilled form, and neither of you will leave him throughout this process.

Neither Vladimir Masters or Madeline Fenton are permitted to interact with your child from this moment on, and any ties they have to his soul or emotions will be severed immediately.

Congratulations on your joint adoption. Daniel has been moved to a comfortable waiting room to rest now that he has completed his initial process of becoming and assigned his parents. A guide will collect you presently. Once you have completed the introductory course in the next room, the two of you are free to collect your child, and return with him to your home.

May balance and justice be forever upheld.

The judge disappeared as a chime rang through the room, clear and true, and Clockwork’s core seized as his ticking clock skipped a beat. The universe shifted around them, and a deep, primal tie to Daniel imprinted itself upon him so firmly that Clockwork’s entire view of existence shifted.

He… he had a child.

Daniel was his child.

And…

Massaging his clock casing, he looked over at Jack Fenton, who was clutching his own chest. His eyes were wide, mouth opening and closing as he seemed to struggle to keep up with what had just happened.

Clockwork swallowed as the tightness that had been in his throat since the trial commenced fell away, and he sighed. The sound was a quiet chime, like a distant grandfather clock in the middle of the night, and then he shifted so that he turned in his seat to more fully face the person who, against all odds, had somehow managed to glimpse the truth of Daniel’s soul enough to gain shared custodial rights.

“Hello, Jack,” he said, surprised at how soft his tone was. Gone was the bite of anger that had been there previously, replaced with the recognition of a person whose goals and parenthood aligned with his own. “I figure that since we’re to share our child, we should at least know each other’s names: I am Clockwork the Timekeeper, longtime mentor and new parent to Daniel. I hope that despite our differences, we can work in harmony to help him become the best version of himself, whatever that may be.”

He smiled, showing just the barest hint of fangs, and Jack baulked for just a moment before visibly gathering himself and taking a deep breath in. “Nice to meet you, Clockwork,” he said, and to his credit, his voice barely trembled, though his eyes were still watery with the threat of further tears. He clearly glanced at the scar over Clockwork’s eye before looking away quickly. “I guess, since Danno’s a halfa, one parent from each side makes some kind of sense, right?”

Clockwork raised an eyebrow. “I never thought of it like that,” he confessed, leaning back in his seat. “And you don’t know it yet, but lack of knowledge is a rarity for me.”

Jack frowned. “So… we’ll be living in this Long Now place?”

“I’m assuming that your profession makes you at least passingly familiar with the concept of lairs,” Clockwork said. “It will be comfortable, and after six months have passed you will be able to come and go as you please. As much as this is unexpected, you’re right — it does make sense.”

Jack swallowed. “So, uh… what now? I feel like I should know more about you, and about Danny.”

“I’ll try to answer your questions, but I expect that someone will come to move us to the introductory program soon.”

He nodded, brow furrowing in thought. “Right, okay then. I’ll just ask a few questions while we wait, since you seem to know a lot more about me than I do about you. Um… uh… okay, I have to know. Do ghosts like fudge?”

He was an all-knowing, powerful being, an embodiment of control of the concept of time itself. Yet, in this tiny office, with his powers bound and with no ability to see the future beyond his own powers of logical deduction, Clockwork never would have guessed in a million years that this would be the first thing that Jack Fenton would ask.

It reminded him so much of Daniel that he couldn’t help but smile. It looked like, no matter how chaotic everything ended up becoming, things were going to work out just fine.

[justplainwhump]

Pet Safety Masterlist

Adrian/ Blanca/ Rosa/ Guard Dog Six

Adrian Delgado is a pet lib activist working for the enemy: as a pet safety inspector for WRU. At a routine inspection, against better judgement, he confiscates an abused Romantic, and ends up as her new owner.

He finds a young woman who loves cheese sauce and has a poetic sense of humor; but at the same time struggles with the trauma her past owners and WRU have left her with. And even though Adrian tells himself he has everything under control, more and more he realizes that he does, in fact, not.

Tropes: BBU, focus on mechanisms within the whole fucked up pet system, pet lib / WRU double agent, loss, angst angst angst, noncon/dubcon themes (not explicit, but very clearly stated). Recovery, caretaker as new owner, a happy ending eventually.

Writing - Present [main story]

Blanca

Discipline

[Bonus scene, Renee pov: They deserve it]*

Pet Safety

(cont. under the cut)

Guilt (short drabble)

Change of Hands

Handlers

Box

Passenger Seat

Stairs

Rules

Cheese

Name

Morning

Coffee dust

Yellow

Coffee to go

Marta

Raid

(here also the first two Noor pieces, see below)

Pick up

Hospital

Gauze

Files *

- small time skip -

Choices (Noor pov)

Nighttime

Waterfront

- maybe another time skip I don't even know -

Bea *

Writing / drabbles - present; not (yet) in the timeline

Shoes *

Invite

Writing - Past [backstory]

Walk-In (Blanca)

Tides (+ continuation )

Society

Second time

Favor

more snippets coming up

Writing - Future [main story]

Keepsake

Pirate Lady *

more will be properly added when the story gets there; parallels to Angel's story (Tim arc).

For now: [Barcode] holds references to Blanca, [Jingles] is about Rosa

Writing - Spin-Offs

Noor:

Promise

Hope

Choices

Rent (backstory)

Ali, Felix, Noor (before):

Felix

Styling

Mac:

Mac

Characters

Rosa - Domestic/Platonic pet.

Blanca / Bea - Romantic pet.

Adrian Delgado - WRU pet safety inspector.

The Sixth Guard Dog - We don't know anything. Sorry. Missing.

Cory Woodward - Blanca's first owner, corporate lawyer.

Renee Woodward Harris - Rosa's owner, Cory's wife.

Jack Donnell - Blanca's second owner, Cory's business contact.

Izzy (Isadora) Greene - Doctor and Clinic Manager at WRU.

Kelly Jensen - WRU manager, Adrian's boss.

Jared Grimm - Senior WRU Romantic handler. Adrian's colleague.

Noor - Runaway Romantic Pet.

Marta Delgado - Pet Lib activist.

Felix Kane - WRU Marketing officer, Noor's handler.

Ali Beheshti - Hair stylist.

[the-lincyclopedia]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Pretending I got tagged by @cricketnationrise!

How many works do you have on ao3?

As of an hour ago: 214. I just recorded a podfic tonight.

What's your total ao3 word count?

494,201. I really hope to pass the half-million mark this year. It won't take much. I just haven't had basically any writing energy lately.

What fandoms do you write for?

These days? The Queen's Thief, when I write fic at all. Historically also Check Please, Carry On/the Simon Snow trilogy, Sherlock, the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, Yuri on Ice, PJO, Boyfriend Material, Good Omens, and more.

Top five fics by kudos:

Love in the Time of Influenza - Carry On - Snowbaz sickfic

Face the Future with You - Check Please - autistic!Jack x ADHD!Bitty

The Aftermath of Angelic Assumptions - Good Omens - Ineffable Husbands sickfic

Man Oh Man, You're My Best Friend - Check Please - Zimbits fake dating

Nightmares - Carry On - Snowbaz hurt/comfort

Do you respond to comments?

Basically always.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

the only soul who can tell which smiles i'm faking - a Kent-centric ficlet set just after Jack's overdose

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my 200+ fics have happy endings, so I don't really know how to answer that.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not recently, but it was a pretty regular and normal occurrence when I was on FFN in my teens. Once, someone sent me flames on 18 separate chapters of a multi-chapter fic in a two-day period. It sucked. But also, comments with concrit were so, so common for me to receive in my teens that I figured they were a normal and expected part of the fandom experience, and I have so much cognitive dissonance when people say they're not and never have been. I've neither given nor received unsolicited concrit in quite a few years, and I fully understand that they're not part of the culture on AO3, but two of my longest-lasting fandom friendships began with concrit on FFN (once giving, once receiving), and I think "this has never been a normal part of fandom culture" is an overstatement. I also think there's a difference between hate (which I've received several times) and the majority of unsolicited concrit that I've received. Not everything that's rude is hateful.

Do you write smut?

I have written M-rated grinding once and E-rated sex once. Not sure if I'll write either again. I'm pretty darn ace.

Weirdest crossover:

A Little Help - Lizzie Bennet (firmly of the Lizzie Bennet Diaries canon, not the original P&P) meets Eric Bittle at Vidcon and the two of them become close friends.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. I know of at least three spinoffs of fics of mine, though.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not exactly, but when I'm in a relationship with someone I share fandoms with, the alpha reading/cheer reading/yes-and-ing/etc can blur into co-creation. And honestly I've also had key alpha readers who I haven't dated.

All time favorite ship?

Gosh, I can't pick.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My Queen's Thief fic where the characters all study abroad together. I have a detailed outline and a few thousand words, but I've had so little creative energy for the past several months.

What are your writing strengths?

I usually say persistence, but I don't know if I've had as much of that lately. Um . . . clarity, SPAG, and like--I have a really clear memory of what it was like to be younger, and I think that brings life to the stuff I write about college/other parts of life that I've already passed through.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Describing things. I prefer writing dialogue, but I'm also never sure if my characters sound like people. Realism in general is tricky for me--I get too hung up on logistics and then completely fail at writing people with realistic motivations. So lots of stuff.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I almost never do it. I could maybe swing it with Swedish, although one time I tried and got corrected by a Finn (which was welcome and they were right, but it made me wary of trying again).

First fandom you wrote in?

I don't want to answer this publicly because I feel like the story of me getting into fandom/into writing in general is pretty unique, and I might tell it someday with my real name attached if I ever get published. (I just checked, and there are literally zero fics on AO3 for the book I first wrote fic of. The fic that I wrote is not on AO3, since I was ten years old and it was 2006, and I'm very grateful that, although I entered online fandom young, I didn't enter it quite that young.) The first fandom for which I posted fic was probably the wizard one that we're no longer naming. May have been Artemis Fowl or PJO, though.

Favorite fic you've written?

To Every Single Kid I Used to Be - an epistolary fic in which 25-year-old Jack Zimmermann writes letters to his younger self, one letter per year of his life. Featuring autistic!Jack and a whole lot of real details from my own life.

Anyone who wants to play, feel free to say I tagged you, but I'm specifically tagging @doggernaut, @eponymiad, @worldsentwined, @cartograffiti, and @the-knights-who-say-book!

[james-riley-author]

Any tips for plotting/sub plotting for beginners?

Hmm ... there are whole books written on this (and I’m happy to recommend some if that would help?), but I can give a few tips that may or may not help, depending on your own style:

- Figure out your character’s arcs (how they grow and change) before or while you’re figuring out the plot, as those arcs will be what motivates your character in the plot, and can help shape it. In Story Thieves, Owen wants to be an important, Chosen One type character, so that he can be famous and everyone will love him. That makes him trick Bethany at the beginning, and get pulled into living out the last Kiel Gnomenfoot book. As he goes, he learns it’s not everything he thought it’d be, and realizes it involves a lot of sacrifice to be a hero ... and the question becomes, can he grow into someone willing to sacrifice everything for other people, whether or not anyone ever knows. That pushes Owen through the whole first book (and affects how he thinks in the later ones, even as he grows in those books too, in different ways). 

- Lots of people suggest making sure you have rising action throughout the plot, meaning that your characters start out in trouble, and it only gets worse and worse as things go (or to put it another way, the stakes keep raising). There are reasons to not do this, depending, but it’s a pretty reliable way to keep readers invested, since worse and worse things happen if the character fails. Here’s a classic example from the original Star Wars movie: Luke wants to join the rebellion but can’t leave his aunt and uncle, only for them to be, uh, removed from the picture by stormtroopers. Then he wants to help get Obi-wan to Alderaan, only the planet was destroyed, which brings the stakes from his own dreams to his family’s lives, then the lives of an entire world. From there, he gets pulled into a fight to destroy the Death Star, or the rebellion will be destroyed, and the Empire will be free to destroy any planet they want. Stakes keep raising. (Of course, a lot of stories aren’t about world-ending threats, but that doesn’t mean the stakes can’t raise in a romance, a comedy, or anything else, too. It’s all relative to the story, and where the characters start.)

- Something that works really well for me is to plot the story out ahead of time, as well as future books, both so I know where things are going, but also so I can find any problems ahead of time, and hopefully fix them, before writing 75000 words only to discover you can’t go on, and the story falls apart over one little thing. This doesn’t work for everyone, but it’s something I do now before I start any book. 

- Your theme (what you’re trying to say with your story) can also influence your plot immensely too, so figuring that out ahead of time helps me a lot. For something like Half Upon a Time, the theme was that only you get to decide who you are/want to be, no one else. That helped focus Jack’s character arc for me through all three books, but it doesn’t need to be about a character, or about one character specifically!

Hope that helps to start!

[neep-neep-neep]

Ngozi's symbolism in Check Please!

it's been boiling inside me too long so i have to let this out now. Too many people don't understand Ngozi's symbolism in Check Please! and to increase your enjoyment of the series and her clever writing (honestly, I've seen the worst takes from people about her writing somehow being subpar because of the ending or Parse not getting a happy ever after ugh). Listen to the woman when she says "the pie is Bitty"!

Part I: Pie

Bitty brings a pecan pie to SMH to introduce his Southern identity to a Yankee university and sports team. He brings another four pies to the family skate with Jack and agonizes when a slice is about to be left over. He drops a pie when overwhelmed by Shitty and Nursey's discussion of the rumors about Jack and the secrets he has to keep.

The fruit filling is Bitty's sweet, warm, and tender inner self and the crust is, well, his formal, people-pleasing, selfless outer shell.

A fruit pie is either fully obscured or latticed, both being some sort of cover for the filling.

Bitty is making an intricate lattice on a pie and stopping halfway through to break down while on the phone with his mom. He isn't ready to tell her, even though she does inform him her pie (Bitty) is 'almost ready to come out'.

II: Jam

After "Me & Jack", Bitty goes on a jam making spree. The jam is a similar fruity sweet substance, but it is in clear jars because Jack and Bitty's truth is out, and may even be open to some sympathetic players on other NHL teams (he mentions in a tweet that he owes someone on the Schooners squad a jar of jam, as the preserve is becoming a hit through Jack's generous gifting). He also informs Jack "it's gonna be two trips", foreshadowing the fact they'll have to come out a second, more emotionally wracking time.

Jam also represents Bitty's connection with his aunt Judy, a nonconformist in the family who as Ngozi has explained encouraged him to seek a higher educational option where he could be himself. He has loyalty to Judy above his mother, a secret that eventually and humorously blows up in his face.

III: Bread and toast

Jack tells his entire NHL team about Bitty while they're eating a lopsided (but delicious) loaf of bread and the aforementioned jam, both homemade by the diminutive southerner. Bitty makes sandwiches for Jack as loving gestures, giving him support during his toughest days on the ice. At his worst, Jack sees himself as broken or incapable of moving past the substance abuse and mental health issues he struggled with under an unbearable spotlight as the hockey prince.

Jack is the bread. The same warm and supportive oven that bakes Bitty's pies also allows bread to rise. Samwell helped Jack just as it helped Bitty, but more important, Bitty was a huge part of why Samwell helped Jack.

It's also why two identical slices of toast pop into frame when Whiskey brushes Bitty off when the latter tries to talk to him in the cafeteria.

Whiskey is or at least wants to be seen as masculine through and through, his interests and future as regimented and compartmentalized as a TV dinner. He sees only weakness in Bitty's soft, sweet personality, and feels they don't have anything (else) in common. He rejects not just pies but Bitty's other offers of kindness and help, because he sees Bitty like he's afraid other people will see him if the truth ever gets out.

He represents the awkward, self-denying phase of coming to terms with your queerness later in life.

The story does, however, leave the question open whether Samwell helps Whiskey the way it helped Jack and Bitty and countless others. Whiskey will have Bitty's dibs as well as his support, as Bitty has done important work in college sports, setting a precedent that will even help people as different to him as Whiskey.

All of this to say some of you need to reread the comic again in its entirety and please annotate in the margins and have a 5 paragraph essay on Ngozi's epicness on my desk by monday class disMISSED

[farizrz]

Desert Rose | Romance Club

Ask me anything with Amy G.

Desert Rose | Romance Club · 29 Dec at 7:05 am

Source: VK

(translate by chrome)

❓ What was Zane’s childhood like and his relationship with his parents? And did the death of his father influence him and become the reason for his reckless youth?

❗Zane loves his family very much. The relationship between his mom and dad was an example of true love for him. Speaking of his father, Zayn adored him and he will always be proud of his father. But you will learn more in the future :)

❓ Back at the end of the first season, Yasmine mentions that she loves Mr. Darcy, and since then I've been wondering which of the RP characters do you think is most like Mr. Darcy? And in the same spirit of loving literature, what other books did Yasmin love as a child?

❗ Hmm, on the way with Adil, Yasmin thinks that she has found her version of Darcy - a cold-blooded Bedouin. But I think Zayn can also be like Mr. Darcy to her. She likes Notre Dame, Oliver Twist, The Thorn Birds, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Little Women.

❓ 1. What pranks did Adil, Rajab and Madi do when they were growing up? And did they immediately agree to the rebel’s plan with Adil? 2. Yasmine is one of my favorite main characters and I love that we see her growth throughout the story! What inspired you to create a GG like her? And who does she look more like, her father or her mother? 3. Do you have any plans/ideas for your next story after completing the RP?

❗ 1. Along Adil's path you will learn more, but they loved to joke with Ali) 2. I talked a lot with my Muslim friends, read discussions. I tried to create a kind of lonely girl who lives in her dreams and tries to build her path, her life. 3. Yes 😉

❓ 1. Whenever Yasmin introduces Adil, she introduces him bare-chested 😅 (most of the time)... is this intentional? Even in the heartbreaking cutscene of the last update 🙈 2. The musical animation in the season finale is another feature of the RP ...how did you come up with this idea...? It's like ending the season with a bang. 3. I know this will be a spoiler 😅🤣... but can you tell me if Mr. Bat will confess his love one day?

❗ 1. Haha, I knew that the players miss Adil so much, so I wanted to give them a gift 😁 why was he naked in the dream? This is a spoiler) 2. My technical designer and I decided to do this - we think it's sort of the final act of every season finale. 3. He will do it 😁😈 or I will hit him.

❓Have you ever encountered writer's block, and if so, how do you deal with it?

❗ Yes, of course. I try to calm down by writing something funny or stupid just to relax, watching cartoons or something emotional and inspiring. For example, musicals. Speaking about my work: I always remember that I have to make people happy and this inspires me very much) Good luck and believe in yourself! ❤️

❓ 1. How does Jack feel about Adil? I'm guessing he feels pain over his "death", but were they close to each other as children? 2. When did Cindy decide to become a model? Did someone notice her or maybe she was inspired by a famous model? 3. If you could include one of your characters in another CR story, who would you choose and what story do you think they would fit well in? 4. I love that you also write beautiful songs, you are so talented. Can you tell us if you plan to write more songs for Garden of Eden or other stories?

❗ 1. Jack loves Adil, Adil has always been his role model, but on the other hand Jack thought that their father loved Adil more and Jack hated it. Jack is the only one (not counting Yasmin on Adil's path) who knows the real Adil, his soft side. 2. Her mother wanted her to become a model. Cindy also thought that the only talent she had was her face and body :( She needed to make money, so she decided to become a model. 3. Moonborn perhaps? I want to see Zane and Victor fight over coffee and tea 😁 4. Thanks, who knows 😼

❓ 1. If they had a choice, what dream place would every LL in RP want to visit? 2. Can you give us some BTS facts (Behind The Scenes)? How do you come up with lyrics? What is the brainstorming process?

❗ 1. Zane - New Zealand; Mustafa - Lisbon, Cindy - New York, Adil - Paris, Jack - Iceland, Said - Prague, Jaffar just dreams of being able to travel) 2. Well, I'm trying to imagine what I want to say in my song, how it will influence the ending season, after that I start writing and finally singing, but honestly my voice is a terrible version of a Disney princess, so I... I'm glad Alisha sang my songs 😁 Thank you ❤️

❓ 1. Was Mustafa inspired by someone you know in real life, or maybe a fictional character you admire? 2. Are there any traits in Yasmin that you would like to have? 3. When will we see Rebel the cat again? I miss him.

❗ 1. No, but I just wanted to create a kind person, a person who will destroy the stereotypes of the spoiled Arab guy that GG has to be with. I wanted to create a good brother who takes care of his sister because I know some girls don't have a good relationship with their brothers :( 2. Maybe her inner warmth? I'm more cold-blooded, less sociable, like to plan everything. She is more spontaneous and naive. Sometimes I wish I had these qualities. 3. You will know 😼 meow 😈

❓ 1. My first question is related to the Garden of Eden: you wrote the lyrics to Starfall, it’s an amazing song. How did this collaboration begin? 2. I was wondering if you have time to play any other KR stories in your free time? If so, which one holds a special place in your heart?

❗ 1. Nastya, the author of ES, is one of my friends, so I am always ready to help her, working with her is always fun and inspiring. I love Luna's story, we wanted to create a song that showed her pain, her struggle with her own triggers and nightmares. That’s why I wrote: “The window is open - I see the sky.” Sometimes we are so worried, so wounded, that we can’t even see the sky, even if dozens of windows are open. We don’t see the world, pain blinds us, but it’s important not to give up. 2. Yes, but now I don't have enough time :( I liked ES, Psi, KPS - the new stories I played - Moonborn, LI, Sails in the Mist and Arcanum are my favorites too! But honestly, I think that all the stories are good ❤️

❓Which character in RP was the most difficult to write? Zane? Buahaha

❗ Poor Zane! Sometimes it's the simplest! Sometimes everyone is very bad and doesn’t want to communicate with my muse 😁

❓ Since this is a topic I'm passionate about, what inspired you to write a story about rebellion and speaking truth to power?

❗ I was inspired by the stories of the Bedouins, culture, political past of Morocco, Arabic fairy tales. I also love Les Miserables (“Les Miserables”), and I even had the idea of ​​writing a novella based on this book.

❓ 1. What genres of books and films does Zane like? Are there any specific names? 2. Why did Zayn choose fashion as a career? 3. If you had to play as Yasmin, which path would you choose? Disobedience or dreaminess and Child of the city or flower of the desert? 4. What do you find most difficult and easiest when writing a RP?

❗ 1. He just loves good books) good from his point of view, of course) For example, novels for women are not his strong point. He loves Machiavelli, The Scarlet Letter, The Financier, The Godfather) 2. You will find out ;) 3. I play every path during tests. 4. Sometimes I hate writing scenes like “he came... she looked...” - just descriptions. I really love writing scenes with LL. And I love some of the story scenes because I know that every scene has its own meaning;) I hope when the story ends, you will see the whole thing) And of course sometimes it is difficult to write about culture, because, well, you know, there are many trigger moments, especially if we are talking about religion. I'm trying to figure everything out because I don't want to hurt anyone.

❓ 1. Which path (dreamy/rebellious) do you think best suits each LL personality? 2. Can you tell us some interesting fact about Jack? 3. Which LL would you like to have an affair with? 4. What inspired you to write this story?

❗ 1. I think that every path can be interesting for every LL. 2. He tried to act like a brother and called Adil's classmate (he imitated his voice), but unfortunately his mission failed 😁 3. I want to have a harem. 4. Morocco's political past, 2000s, Arabic tales, Bedouin stories.

❓ My question: could you tell me more about Jaffar? For example, what are his hobbies or favorite things to do? Does he have any other family members besides the father he mentioned? What did he do before he came to work for Yasmin's father?

❗ He loves to run, watch nature, loves Moroccan culture and cuisine. Yes, there is) you will learn more through the branch with him) and you will learn more about his past.

❓ 1. Can you share interesting facts about Mustafa? 2. Will it be possible to adopt the Rebel cat?

❗ 1. Ha, Mustafa was forced to play with dolls with his sisters :))) he hated it, but he is a good caring brother 😁 2. Who knows 😉

❓ 1. Which paths are best to choose with each character? Or just choose what we want?2. Is it possible to choose one path or balance stats? 3. What are Adil and Yasmin’s favorite books??

❗ 1. You can choose whatever you want) There will be endings for balance and the same for each stat. 2. Adil: Hemingway, Night in Lisbon, American Tragedy, Red and Black, Germinal. Yasmin: Notre Dame, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, The Thorn Birds.

❓ 1. Will Yasmin's father accept Adil as his son-in-law? 2. Can we expect a wedding with Adil at the end? 3. Why didn’t Adil tell the truth to Yasmin or Jack earlier, after his memory returned?

❗ 1. You will find out 😼 2. 😉 3. Because he is a closed person, it is difficult for him to tell everything that is on his soul, he needs time to realize. He wanted to tell Yasmin, but did not find the right moment. If we talk about Jack: he thought he was dead, realized that he was alive when he found medical documents and saw his brother's handwriting.

❓ If you could give all LLs or any other character a superpower, what would you give them and why? 🦸🦹‍♀️😁

❗ Hmm) I wish everyone to become wizards, like in my beloved Harry Potter. 😈 for example, Adil would talk to snakes 😈

❓ 1. Said’s favorite food, colors, hobbies? 2. What attracted him to Yasmin or what attracted her to him? Maybe what is his love language?

❗1. Said loves nature, loves to walk and look around, loves animals, especially cats and parrots) 2. Said loves kindness, hates indifference, that's why he liked Yasmin - she can be rude or something like that, but on the other hand, with him she tries to be kind and helpful. Speaking of her, she was captivated by his personality. He is always there to help her.

❓ 1. What do you think could have happened if the romantic paths had not been closed and the player dated Jack and Adil at the same time? How might they both react to this? 2. What is the reason for the distance between Yasmin and her father? He seems to love her no matter what, but there is still an invisible wall between them. 3. What is your favorite character trait about Yasmin? 4. Can balancing the Desert Flower and Child of the City stats lead to a happy ending?

❗ 1. I think they were really hurt. Adil could not start an affair with the girl his brother loves. But if you dated Adil, but decided to break up with him, and you have a very close relationship with Zayn, then... an interesting path awaits you 😁 2. You will find out. 3. Her inner warmth and the fact that she is not afraid to seem naive) 4. Of course, don’t worry.

❓ 1. Can we expect more romantic content with Sayid in season 3? Will he then have a full-fledged path or will it be more of an affair on the side? 2. Will we find out who Zuleika’s child is in the story? 3. Is something going on with Rajab and Amira??

❗ 1. Yes) and with him you will have a final. 2. Her baby is just her baby, but maybe if I have enough space we can help her meet her son. 3. Oh, they are so passionate together 🔥

❓ 1. What research did you have to do regarding Morocco, Brazil and the medical history of the virus? 2. Can you tell us a little more about Sefer's political parties (views, foundations, etc.) 3. This is related to the last question. What does Adil's rebellion mean to ordinary people in Morocco, and was his character inspired by any real-life Moroccan events?

❗ 1. I read a lot about the history of Morocco, talked with friends from Morocco, watched films, etc. I also read about Brazil and tried to show it in different ways. But because of the plot and some things that will work later, I had to change something. For example, the brothers have non-Brazilian names and surnames, but... this was necessary for something that you will learn about later) 2. Conservative. There were different parties - liberal, democratic, but now everything has simply collapsed. They also behave badly with the Bedouins :( 3. He was inspired by the Bedouins and their stories. Ordinary people love the Rebel, they believe in him. And the Bedouins adore him. He helps a lot. And he will help more.

❓ 1. What is Cindy's favorite color? 2. Can you tell me one of Cindy's happy childhood memories? 3. Is there any place/country in the world that Cindy would like to visit with Yasmin?

❗ 1. Dark blue, fuchsia, yellow, orange. 2. Cindy loved to dance and was so happy when her mother bought her a doll - not a Barbie (she was too expensive), but a very beautiful ballerina. It was the best Christmas present. Cindy was truly happy. 3. I think she would like to visit New York!)

❓ 1. What do you enjoy most about writing scenes/lines for Zayn? Is it as fun as it seems to get inside his head? 2. What sparked Zane's passion/skill for tango when it is so contrary to his harsh personality? Is there a chance he'll try to teach Yasmin? 👀 3. If you could take home one of LL's gifts for Yasmin (like Adil's elephant pendant, Zayn's bracelet/necklace, Cindy's necklace, Mustafa's stuffed watermelon, etc. - I forgot so much 😭), what would you choosed?

❗ 1. I like writing Zayn's journey - I like his emotions, I like how he tries to figure everything out, to control his life, but she... this wild creature ruins everything 😁 soon you will see my favorite scenes with Zayn. I hope you will enjoy. Honestly, sometimes I laugh. For example, when I wrote the scene of Yasmin dancing, I laughed - I imagined Zayn hiding behind a palm tree 😁 2. He will tell us about tango) will he dance with her - who knows, maybe 😼😉 3. I will choose everything and, maybe Yasmin's camel toy. 😁

❓ Will we meet our mother-in-law in Italy? How and when did Gurub fall in love with Adil? Does helping her have plot significance?

❗ You’ll find out 😉 You’ll find out :) Well, yes, it’s better to help her :)

❓ I loved the interaction between Madi and Jaffar (despite the circumstances) - it was so fun to imagine them pitted against each other, trying to achieve the same goal.

❗ I also enjoyed writing their scenes 😁 Madi is one of my favorites)

❓ If you played, who would be your favorite?

❗ I think I would have a harem, but I'm married 😁

❓ Can Karo still become LL?

❗ Caroline has her own storyline) You will find out ;)

❓ Will we learn more about the past/relationship between Zayn and his tango partner? 👿

❗ Ha, yes, it will be so)

We thank Larisa M. for her help with the translation.

[something-tofightfor]

Well Oiled (Kinktober #6)

Pairing: Jack Daniels x female reader (Agent Cider) - ‘Buried’ Pairing

Word count: 11,076

Kinktober prompt: Temperature play

Rating: EXPLICIT. But also sort of tame for a kinktober story? 

Warnings: Mentions of previous injury, needles, immobilization (brief)

Summary: When you and Jack come home from New York, Ginger’s got a little something waiting for you. Yes, it’s a “welcome home” present ... no, it’s not anything typical.

Author’s Note:

I haven’t written a lengthy piece for Jack and Cider in a LONG TIME... and once I started writing this one, I couldn’t stop. 

It takes place about 7 months after Buried’s ending (even though we aren’t there yet) ... so this is yet another sneak peek into their future. 

Thank you all for being patient with me on these two; I definitely feel more inspired to get back to them now.

Want to read Buried? Check out the masterlist here!

“Stop playing with that.” You leaned over, speaking quietly into his ear. “This night is for you, Jack. You should be paying attention.” 

It took him a few seconds but the man finally acknowledged you with a sigh, pushing the candle back toward the center of the table and then lifting his hand to stare at his fingers. You watched the wax on the tips harden and then crumble as Jack rubbed his fingers together, littering the tabletop with small, irregularly shaped remnants. “I know.” He didn’t say anything else, though, the man’s eyes forward and focused on where a small group of the other Statesman New York employees were gathered, talking amongst themselves. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’d rather be anywhere but here?” You tried again, sighing as you settled back into your seat, fingertips drumming against the tabletop. He looks unsettled. He looks … like he did in Seattle.

“Because I’d rather be anywhere but here.” Jack said your name, turning his head to look at you. “I was barely here for a full year, and they’re treatin’ me like -” 

“They’re celebrating that you’re good at your job, Jack.” Meeting his eyes, you shrugged. “This job, the real job, all of it.” His lips twitched and you continued, reaching for his hand. “They’re going to miss you when you go back to Kentucky, and that shouldn’t surprise you.” Time to pull out the big guns. Head shaking back and forth, you squeezed his hand. “Look, I know you don’t like the idea of this all being for you, but… it is. And you can either sit here and ignore everyone while I get up and socialize by myself, or you and I can go and play nice with these people for another hour and a half before we can leave without it being weird.”

“Really?” His eyes widened with hope, Jack’s lips parting so that the tip of his tongue was visible. “I thought you’d want to stay until -”

“Jack, I’d love to stay until they close the bar and kick us out, but if you’re not happy, you’re not happy, and I’d much rather be home with you.” The words rolled off of your tongue with ease, unlike they had in the first weeks after you’d arrived in New York with him. “But we can’t leave this early since you are the guest of honor. So, option one is for you to stay sitting at this table. I’ll get up and go make excuses about how you’re just worrying about what happens with all the work you’ve done here when we get back to Kentucky. Option two is that we both get up and you smile and pretend -”  

“Hour and a half?” You nodded, watching as a small smile tugged on his lips, betraying his non-committal tone. “And then we can go?” Another nod, and Jack leaned in even closer, taking a breath. “Alright.” Jack closed the distance between the two of you, lips finding the corner of your mouth and lingering there. He raised one hand to cradle the back of your head before pulling away, his touch immediately comforting you like it had so many times before. “Alright, Agent. Let’s go be friendly.” 

—

As promised, the two of you stepped through the doorway of his apartment under two hours later. You used the toe of one boot to push a packed box to the side, giving you more open space as you entered the room. 

He was in a better mood, mostly thanks to the few drinks that the two of you had enjoyed from the bar - but you knew that it was also because after that night, Jack wouldn’t ever have to see most of the people that had been at the party again. And it’s not that he doesn’t like them, it’s just … they’re not our people.

You were leaving for Kentucky two days later, Champ calling the two of you back to headquarters after nearly six months of you being on location with Jack - and both of you were excited. 

For him, it meant a chance to step completely away from the distillery side of the company. For you, it meant getting back to the routine you’d desperately missed after being sidelined because of your memory loss. And it means proving that I can still do what they hired me to do. It also meant that when you were sent out on paired missions, you’d be with Jack every single time. Thanks to Champ … and to Jack. 

But before then, you and Jack had two full days off to spend together. And we’re going to make the most of this. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You undid the zipper on your boot, sliding it off before doing the same to the second one, leaving them by the door and next to his. “I told you that everyone was just trying to tell you how much they appreciate what you’ve been able to do since you got here.” 

“I know.” He was in the kitchen, the man leaning into the open refrigerator door and grabbing two bottles of beer. “I just… being here has been a constant reminder of me runnin’ from Kentucky. I’m just glad that it’s…” He sighed, setting the bottles down on the counter and eyeing you. “Glad it’s over. It’s not the job here I didn’t like, it’s everything that … being here makes me think about.

You knew that he meant more than just leaving Kentucky for an undetermined period of time. It’s Stephanie and the other women he was with while he was here. You also knew that he was referring to keeping St. Paul from you for months and not being able to do a damn thing about it. But he has to stop beating himself up over all of it.

“None of that matters anymore.” You crossed the living room and reached for one of the beers, twisting the cap off and taking a drink, fingers wrapped around the icy-cold bottle neck. “I have to admit though, seeing you do actual business for the last few months has been… nice.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of bein’ nice before.” Jack arched a brow and sipped from his beer, nose wrinkling as he swallowed. “But I guess I’m not surprised it’s you that did it first.” 

“Love you too, Jack.” Reaching out, you clinked the neck of your bottle with his and tilted your head back, taking another drink. “So. We’re just about packed up. What do you want to do for the next two days? We’re going to be really busy as soon as we get back to Kentucky.” 

There were a lot of options - and plenty of things that you hadn’t had  the opportunity to do while in the city, but the truth was that you didn’t want to do any of them. “We are.” Jack stepped around you and into the living room, his hand trailing over your lower back and sending a surge of warmth through you as he urged you to follow him. “Champ already sent over the itinerary.” 

“Yeah, I got that too.” You dropped down onto the couch next to him, settling in against the arm of it. In the same motion, you lifted your legs to drape them over his, sighing as you got comfortable. “They waited on starting with the recruits until we got back. And it’s probably because he wanted you there for it, which I understand.” You drank again and then frowned. “Those training days are long, though. I remember being exhausted by the end of them.” Exhausted and overwhelmed.

“Even the ones you spent with me?” He raised a brow, smirking. “Learnin’ to shoot isn’t supposed to be tiring.”

“No, I was exhausted by being around you for ten hours a day for two weeks straight, Whiskey.” He snorted at that, gently slapping your calf before he wrapped his hand around it, squeezing. His hands are so big. “And we did a lot more in those sessions than teach me to shoot.” He hummed in agreement, the heat of his fingers reassuring against your leg. “It’s going to be interesting going back.” 

“Yeah?” He sipped his drink again, head turning toward you. “Why’s that?” You know why. But it took you a few seconds to reply, your eyes locked with Jack’s.

“With the exception of the few solo missions you’ve been on, you and I have been together almost constantly for the last seven months.” Picking at the label on the beer bottle with one finger, to give yourself more time, you shrugged. “Ever since we got back from that retreat. We had normal schedules here, Jack. We worked in the same office every day. I… got used to not having to share you.” 

That was something that you hadn’t ever wanted to admit to the man before. Not because you were ashamed at how much he meant to you, but because you didn’t like seeming needy. But that’s only if he realizes exactly what I mean by sharing him. 

He stayed silent for long moments and then said your name, tone laced with concern that also filled his eyes, his hand tightening on your leg when he spoke. “You know you’re only the second woman in my life that’s never had to worry about sharin’ me, right?” 

His words hit you hard, and for a few seconds, your chest was so tight that you couldn’t reply. I do, but it’s not that simple. “I know. And I know what we do as Statesman Agents, Jack. What it requires sometimes, but … it’s been nice not having to think about that.” 

It had hurt enough before the two of you had been together to know when he was tasked with a “hands on” mission with a female target. But even those assignments hadn’t hurt as much as knowing he was with other women in his free time. Because he was single and he had every right to be. “Yeah.” He sighed, his eyes darkening briefly, the man’s expression shifting from contemplation into a deep frown. “Yeah, it has.” 

“I didn’t mean to ruin the night.” You drank again, savoring the taste of the beer on your tongue before you went on. “I’m excited to go back home. Now that it’s so close, though,  it’s real.” He stayed quiet, his fingers flexing around the bottle he held, and then Jack leaned forward, setting it down on the table before holding his hands out to you. 

You reacted right away, setting your drink down, too before repositioning yourself so that you were seated on his lap, your back against the left side of his chest. Jack’s arm wound around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body, and when he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you felt the understanding in the gesture. 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Jack mumbled the reassurance, his fingers dropping from your shoulder to your bicep, the chilled pads making contact with your skin and sending a small shiver through you. “I can’t wait to be back home in Kentucky with you, Agent.” 

You couldn’t wait either, and as nervous as you were about what came next, it was hard to worry much when you were in Jack’s arms, the scent of him thick in the air. It’s going to be different. Nothing changes just because we’re going back. It won’t … won’t be how it was before. “If you say so.” It was almost too quiet for either of you to hear, but you knew he had, Jack’s hold on you tightening as he kissed you again, that time on your temple. 

His mustache tickled your skin and then, only moments later you felt him smiling, his mouth straying even lower and hovering just in front of your ear. “How ‘bout we go into the bedroom and I show you so? 

You’d rarely been able to tell the man no - and you certainly weren’t about to start that night. “Alright Jack.” Pulling away and raising one hand to comb your fingers through his hair, you winked. “But only if you think you can.” 

He grinned, the light coming back into his eyes, and only seconds later you were both on your feet, Jack leading you down the hallway and toward the bedroom, fingers linked with yours. 

— 

Being back in Kentucky was exhausting, but Jack wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone but himself. You’re gettin’ old, Daniels.

Flying back in one of the Statesman jets, Jack passed on the opportunity to sit in the cockpit in favor of a few more hours alone with you, and things had seemed almost normal. But you’d been right - as soon as you were back on distillery property, the relatively easy day to day routine you’d had in New York had all but disappeared. 

Neither of you were scheduled for an actual assignment until recruit training was completed, but that didn’t mean either of you had down time. Though you’d helped in previous years, the current class was the first one that you were actually responsible for leading training sessions with. The result? Both of you getting pulled to opposite wings of the facility on a daily basis. 

And after the lax schedules you’d both adopted in New York, by the time the two of you made it back to one of the apartments for the night you were drained. Often, you managed to do nothing more than shower, eat, and fall asleep together on the couch before one of you woke and urged the other to bed. 

It had become your new routine over the previous week, and Jack hated it. Every fuckin’ minute of it. But it won’t be like this forever. Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, checking the time on the clock hanging on the far wall. As soon as we get through these new kids, we’ll… we’ll be fine. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone saying his name, and Jack turned to face the recruit that he’d spent the week with - a young woman whose codename was Midori - one hand on his hip. “Yeah?” 

She was smart and talented, with stunningly pretty dark red hair, and in the earlier days, Jack would have flirted shamelessly. He still had flirted with Midori, much in the same way he had with you while working with you - showing her different distraction techniques that potential enemies might use and trying to knock her off kilter. But there was nothing behind it - the flirtation was merely for training purposes, and he felt no sadness about that fact. 

“What’s next?” She tightened her ponytail and then flexed her fingers, wetting her lips as she stared up at Jack. “We’ve only got about a half hour left today. Can we go back to the hand to hand? I almost disarmed you the other day, and I’d like to try again, Agent Whiskey.” He watched the way she looked at him - enthusiasm veiled thinly with confidence, and Jack couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners in appreciation of her boldness. 

“Sure. We -” He was cut off by the sound of the far door opening, Jack’s eyes moving toward it at the same time Midori turned on one heel to look for the source of the sound. You walked in and gave both of them a broad smile, straightening your shirt as you crossed the room. Hello, gorgeous. Jack’s breath caught, the man swallowing with an audible click before he said anything. “What’re you doin’ here, Agent? Shouldn’t you be with Mezcal?” 

“I should.” You rolled your eyes, finally reaching where the two of them were standing, and Jack felt his heart rate quicken as you reached out, fingertips brushing over his bare forearm before you pulled it back, crossing both arms over your chest. “But he ate something that didn’t agree with him at breakfast, and even Ginger can’t immediately cure the symptoms of food poisoning. I’ve been catching up on paperwork since a little after lunch.” 

“Wait, he got sick? From the cafeteria here?” Midori’s eyes widened. “I feel fine, though. What did -” You waved her off, rolling your eyes. 

“Mezcal didn’t eat in the caf this morning. From what he told me and Ginger, he ate leftovers before he came to train… and those leftovers were sitting out all night.” Yuck. Jack winced in sympathy, remembering the days when he’d been Mezcal’s age and he’d assumed his stomach was made of cast iron. “So we’re gonna see how he feels tomorrow. Ginger gave him a shot to stop the symptoms, but she said he needs to sleep it off.” Yuck. 

“So you’re here to watch me train with Whiskey?” Midori grinned at you, excitement in her voice. “I was just telling him that I want to try to disarm him again. I almost had him on Wednesday, and I think I can do it if I try today” His eyes flicked to yours and Jack watched as you tried - and failed - to fight back a smile. 

“I’m positive you can, Midori.” You gestured to the open space behind them, stepping back so that you could take a seat on one of the tables that lined the wall. “Don’t let me interrupt.” 

Jack watched as the younger woman turned away and headed for the center of the room, stretching. He took that opportunity to step to where you were and then reached out to touch your chin, taking it between two fingers. “This is a nice surprise.” You parted your lips slightly and Jack heard your breath catch at the way he was touching you in front of someone else. Still getting used to this too, Agent. 

“Yeah. Sucks that he got sick, but I’m happy to be here and get to see you while it’s still light out.” But you didn’t dwell on that statement, gesturing to his recruit and cocking your head to one side, eyes flashing. “Go. Let me watch you get taken down a peg or two, and then we can get dinner before you go and do your reports.” 

He grinned at you, nodding once. Without speaking, Jack followed Midori to the open floor, getting into position. She was a good six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than him, but she was smart. Jack knew firsthand  that like you, there was more to her than met the eye, and she’d actually come dangerously close to besting him multiple times before. And this is just the first week. He gave her a lopsided smile, urging her closer with one raised brow. She’s going to be great for us by the time she’s in the field. 

“Alright, Midori.” His hand moved toward his hip, fingers hovering over the hilt of his training knife. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

— 

Twenty five minutes later, the three of you were in the medical bay, one of Jack’s large hands clutching his opposite shoulder as the two of you talked excitedly with each other. 

“You saw that, right? I actually flipped him over my shoulder, and -” 

“You did!” You laughed, sneaking a look at Jack and then returning your gaze to the girl’s face. “You caught him off guard, and that definitely helped, but I think the only person that I’ve ever seen do that to him before was Tequila, and …” You pressed your lips together. “And J… Whiskey doesn’t like to talk about that, so…” 

“I’m right here.” He winced, stopping mid shrug. “I can hear every damn word you’re both saying. You two sure like to talk about this shit, don’t you.” Blowing a raspberry at him and waving him off with one hand, you sighed.

“You’re going to be fine, Jack. Ginger’s going to give you a shot and your arm’s going to feel better in about 45 seconds.” You rolled your eyes. “Let the girl have a win. Getting one over on you after less than a week of training is a big deal.” He knew you were right, but Jack still grumbled about it, easing himself down and onto his back and keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

 The door opened and Ginger stepped inside, the woman immediately moving to a drawer and beginning to pull things out of it. “I haven’t done my medical rotation yet.” Midori actually sounded nervous, clearing her throat twice. “I don’t know what all of this stuff we have does.” 

“You’ll learn soon enough. You didn’t really hurt him, at least not long term. Nothing’s even dislocated, it’s probably just a deep tissue bruise, so I’ll give him a muscle repair shot, and that’s that.” Ginger straightened up, the syringe in one gloved hand. “He’ll be better in a couple minutes. So you’ll see what these things can do before you even know everything that we have at our disposal.”

“It’s my bad shoulder, Ginger.” Jack spoke up, still staring at the ceiling because he didn’t want to look at any of you. “The one I hurt in St. Paul.” Trying to keep Cider from falling. 

He heard you gasp and at that, Jack did sit up, his eyes immediately finding yours. Aw, shit. There was pain there, etched deep in your expression as you absorbed his words, and the man wished desperately that he could eliminate it for good. “I didn’t know it was …” You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know it still bothered you.”

“It’s like your leg.” He paused. “Only bothers me sometimes.” You didn’t say anything else, and when Ginger stepped between the two of you, a soft smile on her face and holding the needle up, Jack was somewhat relieved for the distraction. “Gonna fix me up now, Doc?”

“It’d take more than a shot to fix you, Jack.” She spoke quietly, pushing his sleeve up with one hand and then inserting the tip of the needle before she depressed the plunger. “But it’s a start.” Even he had to laugh at that, Jack’s chin dropping toward his chest as he flexed his fingers, palm pressed flat against the top of one thigh. “You may want to take it easy tomorrow, but as long as it feels alright, there’s no reason to skip a full day of training.” 

Ginger turned away, setting the needle down and then snapping her gloves off, attention going back to the two of you. “Thank you, Ginger.” You sighed and Jack watched as you repositioned your shoulders, standing up straight. “And even though you got his bad arm, Midori, it’ll take a lot more than getting knocked onto his ass to keep Whiskey down.” 

“Well…” She took a deep breath and then looked at Jack, the concern in her eyes still there but joined by a real smile on her lips. “I look forward to trying again soon.” I do too. 

A few minutes later, Midori was gone and it was just you, Jack and Ginger in the room, the second woman busy typing notes into her datapad. “How’s it feel, Jack?” She glanced up, waiting. “Better?”

“Yeah.” He stretched the arm out, lifting and then lowering it a few times. “Much. Still got that dull ache, but that’s been there for a while now. Doesn’t bother me much.” 

“That, Jack, is because you played hero for hours before even thinking about treating yourself.” She smiled, setting the pad down and crossing her arms. “And it’s a constant reminder that you were successful.” 

It was - and the three of you knew it - but none of you spoke again, even though your eyes widened as you looked between the two of them. Aw, c’mon Ginger. Don’t make her feel more guilty. The room stayed quiet until Ginger cleared her throat, your name leaving her lips before Jack’s, the woman gesturing for the two of you to follow her into the hallway. “Where we goin’?” 

“I have something for you. It was supposed to be a welcome back present, but now …” She laughed again, pausing in front of her office door. “Now it’s going to serve more than one purpose.” What? She disappeared into the office and left the two of you in the hallway, Jack’s good arm around your shoulders. He wasn’t surprised when you leaned in closer, briefly turning your head and pressing your cheek to his chest. He tightened his hold on you when you let out a shuddering breath, Jack’s mouth opening to tell you not to worry, but Ginger’s return interrupted him. “We’ve been developing some new tech while you two were gone, and it’s ready to be tested out.”

“Tested?” You questioned her, the woman reappearing with two bottles and a sheet of paper in her hands. “What do you mean?”

“We have to stay ahead of our missions. And sometimes…” She held out the bottles, waiting until you took them from her to keep speaking. “Sometimes we have to go a step beyond just tricking them to get what we need.”

“And we’re supposed to use this… whatever it is?” Jack looked down at what you held, not understanding. “Ginger, you -” 

“Think of it as my way of letting you know that I hope your return to Kentucky is enjoyable.” She winked, lips twitching. “Something there for both of you right now, so you should take the rest of the night off and enjoy it. Make sure you read the instructions though.” 

He still didn’t understand but you agreed, taking a deep breath. “If you say so, Ginger.” You stepped out from under his arm, turning toward the elevators. “Come on, Jack. Looks like we’ve got some homework.”

He wasn’t about to disagree, but before you’d gotten too far, Ginger called out to him. “Jack?” He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder and meeting the woman’s eyes. “That other tech you asked me about?” He froze, mouth and eyes going wide. Yeah? “It’s just about done. We’re testing out the second version, and -” She grinned, reaching up to push some of her hair away from her forehead, followed by adjusting the way her glasses perched on her nose. “ - and it’s going to work exactly like we talked about.” 

“That’s amazing, Ginger.” He laughed, the weariness leaving his body, even though the ache in his arm remained. “Let me know when it’s ready to go?” She assured him that she would, and when the woman had disappeared back into her office, Jack urged you forward again, his steps lighter as you walked side by side. “C’mon Agent. Let’s go and see what this stuff does.” 

— 

You could feel the confusion rolling off of Jack’s body, his eyes flicking back and forth between the bottles on the table and the paper in your hand, mouth set into a thin line. But why is that his reaction? He should be excited about this. 

“So it’s just … massage oil?” He blinked, tilting his head. “Two different kinds? How is -” 

“It would have come in handy in Mexico.” You grinned, holding up the bottle with the label marked cold. “Remember when Dom twisted his knee? I could have used this to bring the swelling down instead of going to the actual hospital.” 

Jack remembered it vividly - watching from thirty feet and two oversized umbrellas away as you’d tended to the man’s swollen kneecap, your hands moving over his tanned skin with practiced ease before he’d had to sit still and let you disappear from his sight, the two of you on your way to the nearest hospital. We weren’t anything yet, and that still… that one still hurt. “But how does this help us now? Ginger said it was a welcome home present, but … they aren’t just oil, they have to be for somethin’ else.” He frowned, taking the bottle out of your hand and twisting it to look. 

“Instructions just say that whoever’s applying what’s in here needs to be sure they take the corresponding tablet when they start using it.” Turning the bottle over in your hand, you pointed at a small indentation in the bottom of the bottle. “And that there’s enough to treat a couple people at once, just in case.” You reached for the bottle he held, fingers brushing his as you took it back. “She wouldn’t give us something dangerous and call it a present, Jack.” 

“No, she wouldn’t.” He sighed, bringing one hand up to the back of his neck. “Who’s gonna go first, then?” He was intrigued - he had to admit it. And I’m excited to have a whole afternoon off, too. “And which one are we going to use?” You stood, setting down the second bottle and advancing toward Jack, using one finger to beckon him to his feet.

“Since you got injured today, I think you should let me work on your shoulders first… and I’ll use the one that says warm.” You bit your lip, eyes dropping from his face to his chest and then moving back up, the man blinking slowly at you. “Are you going to turn down a massage, Jack?” For a few seconds, you thought that that was exactly what he was going to do, but then his expression changed, an easy smile replacing the tight one he’d worn only seconds earlier. “Take your shirt off.” 

He was already dressed for training - athletic shorts and a Statesman t-shirt similar to the one that he’d worn when you’d trained with him, and in no time at all, Jack used one hand to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. “No way in hell I’m gonna miss out on havin’ your hands on me.” Good.

His eyes darkened, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and in an instant, you knew exactly where the day was going. There was only one possible outcome, and in Jack’s expression, you saw that he’d come to the same conclusion. “Bedroom?” He nodded twice, bending over to scoop up both bottles, and less than a minute later, Jack was sitting cross-legged on your bed, you kneeling behind him. 

You’d had him there far too few times for your liking, and still weren’t used to the sight of him sitting atop your sheets, but he was a welcome addition to the landscape of your bedroom. Any room, actually. You smiled to yourself as you used the edge of your thumbnail to pop open the bottom of the bottle, shaking out one of the tablets onto your palm before popping it into your mouth. 

It tasted like candy - sweet and faintly lemony, and within seconds, it was dissolving on your tongue as you trailed your fingertips up Jack’s back. “I can smell that.” He turned his head, half a smile visible. “Smells good.” 

“How’s it taste?” You leaned in, pressing your lips to his, and when Jack reached for you, his arm curved backwards to settle one hand against the back of your head, you sighed against his mouth, giving him an opening. He took it, and even at the strange angle, his tongue worked past your lips and met yours, the man searching for a taste of the tablet you’d taken. 

It was a short kiss - by your standards - and when Jack broke it, he winked at you, lips pushed out into the pout you loved so much. “Tastes real sweet. Like you.” Though you couldn’t hold back a roll of your eyes at the cheesiness of the line, the fact that he meant it made your face warm, Jack’s return wink the last thing you saw before he faced forward again. 

Reaching for the bottle of self-warming oil, you uncapped it, squeezing a quarter-sized amount onto your palms and  then rubbing them together. “Oh, that…” You hummed, the heat immediately spreading over your skin. “That works fast.” Shifting on your knees so that you could relax and rest your weight against your thighs, you began to rub his shoulders, thumbs digging in on either side of his spine. “Sorry I’m not that woman from the resort in Washington, Jack. This isn’t my day job.” 

He laughed quietly, tilting his head forward and stretching the skin taut over the back of his neck. You moved your hands to adjust to that position, and as you followed the line of his spine up to his hairline and then back down before widening the spread of your hands to cover his shoulders, you listened to the sounds he made. Every grunt of pleasure sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, his approval stoking the heat in your belly that you felt every time you got a reminder that Jack was yours - and that you knew exactly what to do to pull those sounds from him.  

“Not lookin’ for a professional here.” He paused, sighing in contentment. “Just you.” And that was enough of a verbal reminder, Jack going quiet as you continued to work, paying special attention to his right shoulder. He only flinched once, the reaction to your probing fingers making you inhale sharply. Shit. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth. Ah, fuck. 

“Jack, I wish you would have told me about your shoulder sooner.”

“Not now, Agent.” He cleared his throat, letting out a measured breath, “We can talk about it later.” You felt the warmth from the oil as you touched his skin, a faint, pleasant tingle spreading over your palms and fingers, and only a few seconds later, Jack cleared his throat again, sighing. “That feels so damn good. I could just about fall asleep. You’ve got a great …” He trailed off, lifting his head and taking another breath. “Your touch is …” His voice is different. Is he really that relaxed?

“Do you want to lay down?” Pausing with your hands near the center of his back, you said his name. “I don’t want you to fall over.” He agreed and you moved to kneel next to him, waiting until Jack was in position on his stomach to climb back into place. Settling one knee on each side of his body, you replaced your hands on his shoulders. Jack’s arms were folded beneath one of your pillows, his head turned to the side - and you could see that his eyes were closed. He looks like he’s about to pass out. “I’m going to use more of the oil, alright? Is it too tingly for -”

“Nope.” He sighed, breaths lengthening. “Could feel it a lot on my shoulders an’ neck, but now…” He shifted his hips, Jack’s thighs brushing against yours. “Use more. Feels real good. It’s warm.” Alright … Instead of pouring it onto your hands, you dripped the oil slowly onto Jack’s back. It beaded on his skin, magnifying the freckles beneath it in the light of your bedroom as it rolled downward. “You can go harder…” He sighed, the sound turning into a hum of approval. “I like …” 

There’s no reason he should be this tired. He was wide awake a few minutes ago. Returning your hands to his skin, you continued to manipulate the muscles there, your hands sliding to his sides and brushing over his ribs. When he didn’t react the way he usually did - a sharp intake of beath coupled with the jerking of his stomach muscles as he fought off a laugh - you removed your hands and stared down at him, chewing on your lower lip. “Jack?” Leaning in, you frowned. “Are you alright?”

And then it hit you - the oil was the only thing that could have put him into such a state so quickly. Oh, shit. Scrambling for the bottle, you wiped your hand on your knee and then shook one of the tablets out onto the blanket, using the corner of it to lift it and hold it to Jack’s lips.

“Hey.” Leaning down, you murmured into his ear. “Open your mouth, Jack.” He grunted but didn’t move, so you repeated yourself, wetting your lips. Gotta use the name he’s trained to react to. “Open wide for me, Agent Whiskey.” He responded to that almost immediately, parting his lips enough for you to slip the tablet inside. This has to be it. There’s no way I’m that good with my hands. Taking a deep breath, you began to rub at his back again, waiting. 

“Lemonade.” His voice was still quiet when you heard it a few minutes later. “Tastes like my Grammy’s lemonade.” Jack’s eyes blinked open, his tongue poking through his lips as he wet them. “Did I fall asleep?” 

“You did.” You were focused on the space just above the waistband of his shorts, thumbs pressing into the divots in his lower back, fingers spread wide above them. “That’s what this bottle does, Jack. It puts you to sleep.”

“Smart.” He took a deep breath and held it, shoulders tightening briefly as he shrugged. “Hit me like a ton of goddamn bricks, too. Didn’t take any time.” 

“It didn’t.” Sliding your hands back up, you squeezed his shoulders as you leaned forward. “Just feels warm and a little tingly on my hands, but there must be something in it that knocks you out.” You looked around the room, thinking. “Would be perfect for recon in someone’s house or bedroom. They’d just think you were really good at giving a massage. And taking that tablet before means that you wouldn’t have to say no to the target using it on you, either.” He agreed, turning his head further and cracking an eye open. “What?”

“Do I get to find out what the other one does?” He raised an eyebrow, sliding his hand out from under the pillow and running his fingers through his hair, one side of his mouth lifting in your favorite smirk. “Maybe it keeps you wide awake all night.” 

“Maybe.” You’re a fiend, Jack. You pulled your hands away from him and wiped them on your pants again, still settled comfortably on top of the man. “Or maybe it’s like a truth serum, or -”

“We’ve already got onea those.” Jack pushed on the mattress with both hands, lifting his upper body. “Let me up.” You did, and when he was seated and staring at you, he sucked his lower lip back and between his teeth, eyes focused on your face. “No, I’m sure what Ginger gave us does somethin’ else entirely.” 

He rolled his head back and forth a few times, eyes closed. He’s still waking up. “Well then, to be fair, I won’t take the antidote until we know for sure.” The surprise in Jack’s eyes was evident, and you didn’t even try to stop yourself when you reached for him, cradling his cheek in one hand. “We know how fast it works now, so as soon as we figure out what the second one does, you can make sure I take it.” 

“‘Mmhmm.” Jack leaned closer, maintaining eye contact until he couldn’t anymore because there was no space left between you. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He kissed you softly, the man’s lips still tinged with the faint, bright taste of lemon, and before you knew what was happening, Jack pulled you onto his lap, both arms going around you. 

You were familiar with him in a way that you hadn’t ever been with anyone else, craving each of the ways that he touched you - and so you didn’t hold back. You got comfortable as you leaned against the man’s solid body, both hands firmly pressed against his bare back. “Jack…” Inhaling through your nose as you eased away from him, you squeezed your eyes shut, allowing yourself a contented smile. “If you keep kissing me, we’re just going to end up -”

“Oh, we’re gonna end up doin’ that too.” He ran the tip of his nose along the side of yours before kissing your cheek briefly. “Just not ‘til a little later.” You shivered and knew that he felt it, Jack’s cheeks lifting in a genuine smile as he pulled back all the way. “Now, you got me shirtless before you started, so why don’t we do the same for you?” 

Instead of you pulling your own shirt off, Jack did the honors after you nodded in agreement, lifting both arms over your head to make it easier for him. “I can take off my bra, too. That way there’s nothing in your way.” But with a single shake of his head, Jack turned you down, his hands sliding over the length of your arms and then falling away. He climbed out of the bed and reached for the second bottle, standing net to the bed as he opened it, twisting the cap off. Ok, it can wait then. 

“Lay down.” Jack raised the container to his nose. “This one smells like something else. Coconut, maybe? Like suntan lotion.” Suntan lotion? That’s… odd. He tipped the open bottle over and only stopped when you cried out his name, reaching for his wrist and wrapping your fingers around it. “What?” Wait!

“The tablet, Jack. You have to take it otherwise we’re both going to… well, we don’t know what because we don’t know what this one does.” His brows shot up, the man swearing under his breath as he snapped the cap shut again, turning the bottle over. 

“Shit. You distracted me so damn much that I …” He trailed off as he pulled a tablet free and popped it into his mouth, tongue visible for a few seconds. “That’s real goddamn weird.” What is? He sucked on it thoughtfully, cheeks going hollow and his brow knit in contemplation. “Smells like coconuts but it tastes like peppermint, too. Fuckin’ wild. Ginger and the team really did somethin’ with this one.” Peppermint? 

“So like … Icy Hot?” Blinking rapidly, you leaned back, holding yourself up and letting your weight rest on both hands. You watched as he reopened the bottle, squeezing some out into his palm. That substance was white and viscous, not quite as dense as lotion, but definitely more solid than the first oil had been. “Oh, that’s strange, Jack. It’s thick.” 

“It is.” Jack’s eyes were on his hands, the frown still on his face. “And it’s… cold?” But before he could say anything else, he shook himself back into focus, gesturing with his chin. “Lay down on your stomach. Gonna start with your back.” 

You did as he asked, and moments later, you found out exactly what he meant. 

It was a shock to your skin as his hands made contact, but it only lasted a few seconds - replaced with a pleasant chill, the sensation spreading out slowly from where his fingers touched you. He started near your waist and with gentle pressure before curving his hands down and over your ribs, fingertips sliding briefly between your body and the bed. “Feels so good, Jack.” 

You closed your eyes, focusing on the way he was touching you. “You gettin’ tired? You’re still breathin’ normally.” You thought for a few seconds and then sighed as he spoke your name. 

“No, it feels great, and I’m relaxed, but it isn’t putting me to sleep.” Instead, you felt wide awake and oddly calm, the cooling effect of the oil sinking into your skin the same way aloe did when you applied it after a day outside in the sun. ‘I just feel… you, Jack.” And you feel incredible. 

He hummed out a reply, finally moving up your back and sliding his fingers beneath the band of your bra. “Gonna unhook this now, alright?” You gave him permission and only seconds later, felt the material snap open, Jack’s fingers digging into the newly exposed skin. “I didn’t tell you about my arm because it’s not bad all the time. It really is like your leg, only bothers me when I’m usin’ it too much.” Oh, so he’s going right for it. 

“Still.” You turned your head toward the pillow, groaning into the pillowcase when he pressed on a tender spot. “Right there, Jack. Harder. That…” The touch of his hands and the cool addition of what was on them drew your focus, but you felt the tension pop, Jack pushing against the lower edge of your shoulder blade before he continued his journey over your back and toward your neck and shoulders. “You should have told me. I know I didn’t realize it when it happened, but … it’s been months since I remembered everything.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he continued after humming in acknowledgement of what you’d just said. “But there was nothin’ you could have done about it.” He was right - you weren’t Ginger, and didn’t work in a laboratory. You weren’t a doctor, and couldn’t prescribe treatment or exercise. But I could have … offered support. 

Jack’s hands were on your shoulders, kneading the flesh there, and you couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips as that skin and muscle began to tingle, too - a cool, liquid feeling settling just beneath the surface. “Maybe this one just … relaxes you, Jack. I still feel perfectly fine.” 

You did - the entirety of your back pleasantly coated in what felt a cool sheet, your shoulders and the top portion of your arms beginning to feel the same. “It’s gotta do somethin’.” Jack paused long enough to pull his hands away, squirting more out of the bottle before reaching down to run his palms over your forearms and down, the man finally threading his fingers between yours and squeezing. “Even if it’s…” He went quiet and you opened your eyes, waiting. Why’d he stop? “Can you feel this?” 

He squeezed your hand again, palm pressed to yours. “Yes.” You blinked, not understanding. “You’ve got your palm flat against mine, and -”

“Straighten your fingers.” Confused, you did as he asked. Why? What’s the point? “Well?”

“I did, Jack.” Wiggling your fingers for good measure, you turned to look at him again, lifting your head from the pillow. “See?”

“Agent, you’re not movin’ a damn thing.” He laughed then, the sound full of understanding. “I think this is a paralytic. You can still feel what’s happenin’ but you can’t move.” Oh. 

In an instant, you turned your head in the opposite direction and lifted that arm, wiggling your fingers in front of your face. You could both see and feel that happening, and when you lowered your hand back onto the pillow, you returned your attention to your other side, concentrating. “Well that’s interesting.” 

It should have scared you - the fact that parts of your body were unable to move and you had no idea how long it would last, but instead of being afraid, you realized that you were somewhat turned on - and it was because you knew that Jack would take care of you. “Do you want the antidote? Shouldn’t take more than a couple minutes for feelin’ to come back.” He was still touching you - the man’s fingertips running up and down your arm, though the contact was light, barely there. 

“Give me a second.” Concentrating, you focused on the different parts of your body, beginning with your toes. They moved, you could feel the softness of the blanket rustling against them. The same was true for your legs – you heard the sound of your pants sliding over the bedspread and felt the pull of your knee muscles as you flexed them. But when you attempted to lift your thighs one by one, you realized that you weren’t moving. “Oh this is …” Strange. Weird. Exciting. “Jack get off of me, I want to roll over.” 

He did as you asked, sitting next to you on the bed. “Lemme know if you need me, alright?” You saw that he was fighting back a smile, his chest rapidly moving up and down as he watched you. “I’m here to help.” Oh, I’m sure you are. You pushed yourself up with your good arm and then attempted to use the other one to do the same.

It didn’t move. 

Your hand was resting on the bed, palm up, fingers curled inward - exactly where Jack had dropped it as he climbed off of you. “Shit.” Letting out a scoff, your eyes darted up, locking with his. “I can feel the blankets, Jack. I can feel - “

“But you can’t move.” His tone was lower than it had been, eyes dark as they focused on your face. “Well, you can’t move what I touched with that shit.” 

“I can’t. And it must spread, because my thighs are … stuck.” Rolling your eyes, you sighed. “Help me onto my back?” He did as you asked, shifting onto his knees and winding an arm around you, his other hand supporting the opposite side of your body. His frame covered you as you repositioned yourself, head on the pillows. “This will be very useful, Jack. I’m wide awake and aware of what’s going on, but all it would take is you putting that onto someone’s hands or feet, and -”

“And they’d be completely incapacitated even though they could still talk.” He grinned, looking down at the bottle. “Ginger wasn’t lyin’ when she said that these were gonna come in handy.” No, she wasn’t. His eyes swept over your partially clothed body - the look in them hungry. “I want to keep touchin’ you. But it would feel… wrong. Because you can’t move your arm, or sit up, and … and that feels like takin’ advantage.” 

“Jack.” Swallowing hard, your next words stuck in your throat. “You’re not taking advantage.” You paused. “Pretend I’m reaching for your hand right now, alright?” He laughed, nodding his head. “Keep touching me. Anywhere. I want -” You could see it in his expression - Jack wanted to do what you were telling him to, the man’s fingers curling and uncurling in his lap as he kept himself from lifting either of his arms. “I can feel it. I just can’t… do anything about it.” 

“Why does it sound like that turns you on?” He frowned but you could still see the spark of intrigue behind his expression, kept to barely glowing embers in the depths of his eyes. Because if he let it free, that’d be it. “It would feel like I’m using you. Like I’m doin’ something wrong.” 

“Not something wrong.” You reached up with the hand you could still move, pressing one finger to your lips. Oh, but I can’t move my shoulder. It’s spreading there, too. “Because I’m telling you it’s alright. And…” Taking the tip of your thumb between your lips, you thought for a few seconds. It’s alright. “Maybe it’d be alright if you used me for a little while. I… wouldn’t complain.” 

The silence in the room was thick, both of you digesting the words that had come out of your mouth. Did I overstep? Is that too much? Is it not what he wanted to hear? “How ‘bout we compromise.” Jack leaned in, one hand moving to your belly and settling there as he ducked down. “We do this for a couple more minutes.” He moved his fingertips in a slow circle over your skin, the difference in temperature making you gasp. “And then when I really want to touch you, you take the tablet. By the time it starts workin’, we should both be ready to go.” 

“Yes.” You nodded, resting your hand over top of his, fingers curled over the man’s knuckles and halting his movement. “That’s fair.”

That was all the encouragement Jack needed, pulling his hand free from beneath yours and then pouring more of the oil onto his palm. “Give me your hand.” He was grinning again, his eyes locked with yours. “You wanna play? We’ll play, Agent.” 

It was still strange to you - the way that hearing him call you Agent sent a rush of heat  through your entire body, but even as he took your hand in his and repeated the same thing that he’d done with the other one, you understood exactly why it affected you as much as it did.

He’d used the term as a secret one of endearment for years, foregoing calling you Cider on missions and instead referring to you by the title, which was different than with all of the others you worked with - and all of the other times you’d observed him on missions. It’s like a secret, you sighed as he let go of your hand, leaving it on top of the blankets, his fingers running up the inside of your forearm. Our secret. 

“Will you kiss me, Jack?” It came out needy and breathless, your eyes closed as he squeezed your bicep. “I -” You didn’t get anything else out, Jack’s kiss bruising as he covered your mouth with his. You didn’t realize it until you felt his tongue slip between your lips and into your mouth, but he’d also lifted his hands from your torso, settling one of them against your jaw and turning your head toward him, the other one supporting his weight as he leaned forward. 

Jack kissed you like he was trying to consume you - and you committed every movement of his lips and each sound he made to memory, almost like you’d never get to experience it again. 

You desperately wanted to touch him, too - to run your fingers through the silken strands of his hair, to let your fingertips drift over the line of his jaw, Jack’s 5 o’clock shadow providing a touch of friction. But I can’t. You groaned in frustration, the man immediately backing off, concern on his face. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, I just realize how much it sucks to not be able to touch you.” You bit your lip - swollen and tingling from his kiss even without the aid of the oil - and then closed your eyes again. “Be glad that you didn’t offer to use the warm one on me.” You’d hate not being able to move.

“Next time?” He surprised you when he spoke, Jack clearing his throat. “Next time we use these, I want to see what this one feels like.” He climbed out of the bed and stood next to it, the tenting in his shorts much more visible than it had been when he was sitting. He adjusted himself through the material, head cocked to one side. “Wonder if you can make me come even if I can’t move.” 

You gasped again, mouth dropping open at his words, and you were rewarded with another smirk, the man bending at the waist and hooking his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your pants. “I’d lift my hips… but I can’t.” The smirk turned into a genuine grin, Jack’s lips curving upward, and to your surprise, he made quick work of the last items that you wore - the stretchy material of your training leggings and your underwear joining the rest of your clothing on the floor. “Well this is interesting.” Licking your lips, you took a deep breath. “Jack, I -”

“Well aren’t you gorgeous.” He used two fingers to stroke his mustache, the tip of his tongue poking out of one corner of his mouth. “Gimmie a second, alright?” You barely had time to agree before Jack was striding from the room, arms swinging by his sides. “Just gotta read somethin’ real quick.” 

What the fuck are you reading? As intrigued as you were, you were just as frustrated, craning your neck to see down the hallway. Why did he leave? Before you could worry for too long, Jack reappeared, holding the instruction sheet in one hand. “Jack?”

“This paper says,” he began, before breaking eye contact and looking back at what he held. “That both oils are designed to be used anywhere on the human body.” He paused, glancing back up at you over the top edge as he read from the sheet. “They are food-grade and safe for consumption.” Oh. You froze at that, immediately understanding Jack’s intentions. “Now.” He set the sheet on your dresser and then sat back down on the bed. “As much as I want to find out how this tastes, it still feels a little wrong to do that when you can’t move your arms or sit up.” 

“That’s… fair.” Wetting your lips, you blew out a long, shaky breath. “Guess there’s always next time, right?” He agreed, reaching for the bottle and opening the bottom, taking one of the tablets between his fingers. “I thought I said not y-”

“Just want to be ready.” He wet his lips, setting the tablet down on the pillow next to your head. “You say the word, and I’ll put that thing in your mouth so fast it’ll make your head spin.” I don’t doubt that.

“I want to see what you’re going to do.” Defiant, you narrowed your eyes. “You went to read those instructions, so you must have a plan.” 

“Oh, I do.” He winked at you, your breath catching in your throat at the sight, and then Jack turned the opened bottle over, squeezing and letting some of the liquid drip down against your abdomen, the cold making you whine. Fuck this is… that’s… oh my God, he…  “I’ve got a plan alright.” 

He flattened one hand to the left of your body before using his right hand to pull your legs apart, his eyes never leaving your face. “Jack, you…” You had no idea what you were even trying to say, but Jack’s next motion stopped your words, his fingers gliding up and over the top of your thigh until they reached the liquid on your skin, dragging through it. 

You could feel it - the way the chill spread over your skin as he drew patterns with it, Jack’s touch light enough that there was no pressure but still something that you were able to feel. He circled your belly button with one finger, an action that would have caused your abdominal muscles to contract under normal circumstances - but at the widening smile on his face as he did it, you knew that nothing had moved. “Remember, as soon as you’re done with this, tell me.” 

“Mmmhmmm.” Breathlessly, you agreed, Jack’s hand traveling lower. One finger turned to two, the edges of his nails scraping along your skin… and then Jack leaned closer, saying your name. “What? What do you -” You barely got the words out through your panting breaths, your focus destroyed with every new inch of you that he touched. “Jack… It feels like you’re dragging ice over my …” Without warning he lifted his hand and reached up, fingers finding and tweaking one nipple gently, a  wail escaping from between your lips before you clamped them shut. Fuck. 

“I think you like that.” He palmed your breast before ducking his head down and sealing his mouth over your nipple, the scent of his hair filling your nostrils. Tilting your head down - since it was the only part of you that you could move - you took as deep a breath as you could manage, wondering if he could hear the thundering beat of your heart. Maybe he can feel it. You whimpered when his tongue flicked out, laving over your nipple before it was replaced with his teeth, another brief, sharp burst of pain forcing your eyes shut. “I think you like that a lot.” 

He murmured the words when he broke away from you, a lazy smile on his face as the straightened up. “I…I do.” He followed a straight line down the center of your chest with his fingers, the chill fainter in their wake than it had been against your abdomen, but when he passed your belly button, he didn’t stop, his eyes finally leaving your face when he reached for the bottle again. “More? What do you need more for, Jack? This is … you…” 

“You’ll know in a minute.” Holding his hand up so that you could see what he was doing, Jack drizzled more of the oil over his middle and pointer fingers, the liquid dripping down the length of them, though the flow was slower than it had been down his back. He whispered your name and waited until you met his eyes to speak, the man’s tone leaving no room for hesitation. “Gonna be cold. Tell me if it’s too much.” Nodding in agreement, you held you breath as he tossed the bottle to the side and then lowered his hand, never breaking eye contact. 

He sunk two frigid fingers into you with a groan, his jaw twitching as he fought to keep his eyes open. After only seconds, you broke, your mouth falling open as your eyes slammed shut, the length of his fingers gliding through you as he urged them forward. “Fuck, Jack.” You tried to focus on the sound of his voice but couldn’t, the only thing you were truly aware of how good it felt to have him touching you the way he was, the heat that typically consumed you when the two of you were in bed replaced with a concentrated, icy sensation. 

The contrast between the soft heat of your body and the chill of his thick fingers was too much - and would have been even if you’d been able to move. But when Jack continued speaking, you knew you were close to putting an end to things and begging for the antidote. 

“I can feel you movin’.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours without stopping the motion of his hand, the flex of his wrist sending small shivers down the inside of your thighs, even though he hadn’t touched you there otherwise. “You’re shaking. You’re so warm, Agent. So goddamn …” He groaned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before exhaling against them, his breath little more than a short puff of air. “How’s it feel for you?” Cold. It feels cold and warm at the same time but it’s good, it’s so fucking… 

Even if you weren’t so overwhelmed, you wouldn’t have been able to describe it. The way he was touching you almost made your body sing, Jack’s touch confident, even as he withdrew his fingers completely and laid the heel of his hand against you briefly, giving you a respite. “Jack, I need…” Your eyes were open and you stared straight up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open when he reentered you, the stretch subtle. He’s got three… he added… “Give me the antidote, Jack. Need to touch you.” 

Straightening up, the man reached for the tablet and lifted it to your lips, raising one brow even as he continued to thrust his fingers into you, movement slow and controlled. “Stick your tongue out.” 

You did - opening your mouth and extending it, Jack’s eyes flashing with a desire that he didn’t even try to hide, his pupils so large that the dark brown was almost completely obscured. 

It began to dissolve almost as soon as he pressed it against the muscle, and when you retracted your tongue and closed your mouth, you closed your eyes, savoring the taste. It was overwhelmingly minty, but by the time you swallowed, it had mellowed out, the taste of coconut coating your tongue and soothing the chill slightly. It’s good. “You let me know when you’re good to go.” Jack whispered the words, scooting closer and rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Let me know as soon as -” 

“Yeah.” Swallowing again, you reassured him. “Yeah, I …” He curled the fingers inside of you, pausing their movement otherwise, and when he kissed you again, Jack didn’t hold back, plunging his tongue back between your lips. I will. 

The chill was still there, the man’s fingers still cold, the areas of your body that he’d touched earlier just as impacted as they had been, but as the kiss deepened, Jack’s teeth tugging on your lip before he ran his tongue along it, you felt the blanket beneath your fingertips, a wrinkle smoothing out as you straightened the digits. 

Testing yourself, you slid your hand forward, finding Jack’s knee and then raising it, curling your fingers over the top of his leg briefly before you slid them beneath the bottom hem of his shorts. “Welcome back.” He mumbled the words against your lips, groaning as your hand moved higher, palm reaching his thigh. “What’re you -”

“I can move again.” He was firm against your fingertips and then you felt the heat when you wrapped him in your whole hand. “See”?” There wasn’t much room for you to move your hand but you still managed, short strokes that left the thin material of his shorts stretched tightly over your knuckles.

“Lemme take those off.” He broke away from you entirely, the man’s chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Let me get ready to …” He trailed off as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, the man’s fingers stilled inside of you, yours paused with him heavy against them. 

“You should hurry up.” He was confused but didn’t speak, waiting to see what else you’d say… and you didn’t make him wait long. “You said you wanted to see how it tastes…right?”

He laughed then, the sound quiet but somehow dangerous, too, the man curling his fingers once more before removing them slowly. Jack stood, ridding himself of his shorts in one smooth movement and springing to attention in front of you. There was no hiding the way you wet your lips at the sight, both hands fidgeting in your lap while you waited. 

He looked down at you for a few seconds and then reached for down with his left hand, the man’s long fingers wrapping around himself and beginning to stroke his length leisurely, though the set of his shoulders gave him away entirely. I just got some of that tension out, and now he’s… Come on, Jack. 

He said your name then, the sound little more than a growl before he beckoned you forward with his other hand, urging you to rise onto your knees in front of him. 

“I do want to know what it tastes like, Agent.” He paused, eyes moving away from your face and down, over the rest of your body. “And I think it’s time I find out.”  

— 

Tag list coming separately!

[thelazyhermits]

If Fortune!Yuu did finally assured herself that she's staying in Twisted Wonderland and not go back to her original dimension. What would her future be like? Like all grown up with all her boys in NRC. I would like to think she and Sebek somehow got platonically married. Just imagine the scenario with time travel trope, I would think everyone's reaction be very funny, especially younger Sebek, to the Fact Yuu is married to Sebek. Even if it's platonically :)

If Yuu gets to stay in TW, which is obviously what I would like to happen, her future would be heavily intertwined with all her friends since she'll keep in touch with them, especially her sons, so she'll never have to worry about loneliness again.

Job wise, I like the idea of Yuu working for Leona, like what was brought up in my Fairy Gala fic, as a liaison of sorts. All her social connections and her skills when dealing with people, which only improved thanks to all the work she had to do at NRC thanks to Crowley, would make her really good at this sort of job, I think.

Plus, I want Leona to always have someone in his corner, no matter what happens at home. While he's incredibly strong on his own, it does him good to have that support, and of course, Leona just likes having Yuu around since she keeps him entertained and he'll have an easier time looking after her that way.

Because once a certain lion Beastman takes an interest in someone and decides they're worthy of his protection, he'll make sure they're always well taken care of.

Anyway, so this will mean Yuu will likely end up living in the Afterglow Savannah. However, Leona gives her plenty of opportunities to travel for business-related reasons and so she can see more of the world, so she'll be able to visit all of her friends without too much trouble.

Relationship-wise, it's really hard for me to tell if Yuu will ever fall in love romantically with any of the guys or if she'll remain single and have incredibly strong platonic bonds instead. Whenever I write her, I lean more toward her being aro/ace, because she really is completely satisfied with hugs, cuddling, and platonic kisses.

She craves love after having gone her whole life without it, but in her eyes, platonic and romantic love are equal. One isn't superior to the other, so she doesn't think romance is necessary for a happy life.

But she's not necessarily opposed to romantic love. She's just never going to purposely seek it out since she figures if it happens it'll happen one way or another lol

If platonic marriage is a thing in TW, Yuu would absolutely be all over that and would be more than happy to marry Sebek. Honestly, I could also see him being aro/ace, so I don't think he'd have any issue with that kinda marriage.

ADeuce are also contenders since they've both got a lot of love for Yuu and are extremely close to Yuu. Deuce in particular might be the biggest Yuu simp cause this boy adores her so much 😂💕

Because I've been so focused on my biases, aka Jack & Sebek, I haven't been given ADeuce enough attention as of late, but that started changing with the Halloween fic which is when I wrote my first fluffy one-on-one scene with Ace, which was in chapter 2.

Since then, I've been working on more stuff for those two, and I'm realizing just how attached they are to Yuu, which makes sense cause those two are like that with Yuu in canon, based on their voice lines.

But still, I'm only now realizing that Sebek might have some competition when it comes to simping for Yuu lol 😂

[comingyourlugubriousness]

⭐ For Yume! ⭐

1- 4- and 20!

🌙🌙🌙🌙

Do you have a song that represents your OC, if so why?

I have SEVERAL songs that represent Yume. Last time I answered a song in this post, that made me think of Yume's overall time in Twisted Wonderland. (It's a sorta long post with analysis.) And @bunnwich has said that "Waiting on a Miracle" from Encanto reminds them of Yume. Most recently the song that represents Yume for me is. Camera's by Matt and Kim.

"No time for cameras We'll use our eyes instead No time for cameras We'll be gone when we're dead No time for cameras We'll use our eyes instead I see flashes of gold."

I love the idea of Yume slowly coming out of their shell and learning that they need to be more than just a spectator in life if they wanna be happy not only in the future but now as well! 0v0

Honestly, I should just drop and Yume Ume Playlist. (And my cheez whiz Yume x Idia playlist too)

Who is your OC’s closest platonic friend?

I know I KNOW I DONT TALK ABOUT IT MUCH!

But Ruggie and Yume are besties y'all! They don't really know how it happened either considering Yume disliked his smug aura and hates when people steal from them specifically. And Ruggie can smell a goodie too shoes a mile away. Of course, that's just the surface-level projection of both of them.

Once they get to know each other in and after chapter 2 they both see past that and realize they have things in common and of course a dumb similar taste in humor.

Add that to the fact that Yuuta and Leona "hang out" and also Jack and Yuuhi "hang out", and it leaves Yume and Ruggie as the platonic 3rd wheels. So they kinda just gravitate toward each other during those times too. Don't get them wrong, Grim, Deuce, and Ace were their first friends and hold a special place in their heart. But I think they get along with Ruggie on a very visceral level that they didn't expect lol. Reminds me of this OLD but still good meme:

Tell us about a complicated relationship your OC has with another character?

Last time with this question I talked about Yume's relationship with Jamil! So this time let me talk about Yume's relationship with KALIM!

Oh boy where to start. Yume didn't officially meet Kalim until chapter 4 and was very skeptical meet a genuinely kind person at NRC, especially after getting betrayed by Azul. So when Kalim is just genuinely nice and kind it kinda threw them for a loop. And then he started talking and saying nice things ABOUT Yume. Compliments they've never heard from anyone before! Plus the fact that he was so touchy (in a good way! Yume enjoys casual affection)

And the whole flying carpet under the stars didn't help (even with their brothers with them the whole time.)

So yeah it kinda developed into a big time crush, unfortunately. Though after going through the events of chapter 4 they realize that Jamil and Kalim have their own things to work through and that maybe trying to get into a relationship with Kalim...isn't right at the moment. (Plus all their fear of rejection/vulnerability/ and inexperience when it comes to dating in general. Oh, and not to mention the feelings they're definitely not catching from some shut-in gamer boy too.) Still they don't really shake their crush completely until I'd say the near end of my fic The Diamond in the Rough and the Boy without a Fairy. (Which takes place between chapters 4 and 5 in game)

Though they still find things awkward around Kalim so that leads to them just kind of...avoiding him for a while. It's a lil shitty on their part but eventually Kalim notices and they both officially have a talk of sorts that clears the air in Chapter 5 (during the VDC training camp.) I do plan on writing it one day but right now I'm in the middle of writing other lore!

What are your OC’s minor fears?

SPIDERS, TALKING TO STRANGERS, TALKING ON THE PHONE. HEIGHTS, ADVANCED DARKNESS! FLOYD LURKING IN THE CORNER WITH THAT LOOK ON HIS FACE! (the usual) 20. What chapter does your OC get the most personal character development? @cyn-write asked this question too!

Definitely Chapter 3! I feel like in me and @bunnwich timeline so many things happen around that time.

The Ramshackle gang getting to know their respective love interests, Yuuta/Yuuhi getting their respective weapons, Yume snapping and going a little insane on how to plan and get back at Azul and showing that they're not just a shy goody goody. It just is a time when the brothers are starting to really feel like they understand and belong in Twisted Wonderland to a degree y'know?

ANYWAY SORRY THIS GOT SONG LONG! The muses possessed me.

[yukidragon]

Can you imagine a romantic evening between MC and Jack in the department? Maybe Jack will have a nice meal and the MC will wear a flashy dress to surprise Jack. One night where they both profess love, where they forget the bad and focus on it, maybe, Jack could take advantage and propose marriage to MC?

I must admit that I LOVE Alice (MC) and Jack with all my heart. They are a beautiful couple and they deserve a happy ending ❤️

Gosh, thank you so much! I’m really happy you like Alice so much. 💖 Don’t worry, I intend to write her and Jack having a happy ending together.

That’s quite the romantic idea you have there. MC and Jack have a dinner date that leads to him proposing is super sweet. Naturally, this is going to depend on the type of MC, whether they’re interested in marriage, and how their relationship goes, especially after the events of the game.

Naturally, I’ve already got some ideas for how it might go with my MC, Alice. Since you wanted to hear some images, and we could all use some nice fluffy goodness after the past few headcanons, I’m going to just go nuts and have fun with the topic of marriage and proposing with my OTP.

Just as a heads up, these thoughts will get spicy. This is an Adults Only game after all, and Jack is a very needy yandere who wants to fill his sunshine with his love.

Before I begin, let’s do the tags. If you want to get tagged in my future headcanon ramblings, please let me know!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars

While I’m at it, here are links to my SDJ fanfics, Sunshine in Hell, and Sunshine in Another World. I’d love it if you read them and left a comment. Thanks!

The subject of marriage was something that came up while they were still in the friendship stage of their relationship. The first time Alice ever told Jack she wanted to get married eventually was one night when she was tearfully venting to her supernatural friend about her shattered dreams of a future with Ian. She dreamed of her future wedding, of having a big family with her best friend who loved and understood her the most... and he betrayed her.

Jack comforted Alice that night, cuddling her close and reassuring her that she can still have that dream someday, but with someone who truly loves her. She appreciated the reassurance, but didn’t believe it. If the bond she had with Ian was so flimsy, how could anyone truly love her?

It was painful for Jack to hear Alice think that way about herself, to not realize or even be ready to accept just how much he loved her and how much better she deserved. Still, it helped him understand her better too, her dreams for the future that he promised himself to one day give her. She was still hurt by the lies of false love, but eventually he would show her what real love felt like... because even if her love for him was platonic right now, he knew she cared about him.

The next time the subject of marriage comes up between them is a while later, though they’re not in a relationship. Alice is invited to a wedding and asks Jack to be her plus one. Technically her invitation didn’t allow for a plus one, but it’s not like they would see him, right?

Naturally, Jack was elated by the invitation, and he showed up dressed in a very colorful but snappy suit. Come to think of it, it probably would look a lot like the suit he wears in the Aphrodesia crossover.

Minus the bloodstains of course. (And the wise guy dog man underling accessory.)

As always, whenever I show some of Jambeebot/Sauce’s beautiful art, I must give full credit to them for their hard work. I also want to remind everyone not to post the private art posted on the Snaccpop Patreon. Let’s always remember to be respectful of the original creator and the team working with them, okay?

Alice is used to Jack’s mysterious supernatural changes of clothes by this point, such as his super cozy robe and pajamas. (She has admittedly swiped his robe a couple times for herself despite how big it is on her, since it’s just so comfy.) Even still, the sight of Jack in a suit is striking. She can’t help but think it looks really good on him, and her heartbeat picks up at the sight of him.

Jack, naturally, overhears Alice thinking about how handsome he is, but he still asks her what she thinks, just being a little cheeky about it and wanting to hear her say what she’s thinking out loud. He might give praise easily to his sunshine, but he will soak up every drop of it she’ll give him like a plant dying of thirst.

Flustered at being asked after what she was just thinking (which she shouldn’t be having about her friend), Alice has to take a moment to recover, and she deflects, trying to overcompensate in being friendly with her praise, because she is not going going to make this weird. Jack just rolls with her being gently teasing even as she compliments him, bantering back with her lightly, and the nervousness melts from her quickly so they have a fun exchange.

Jack, naturally, praised Alice for her gorgeous dress. The way it hugged her curves was just... Mmm... It was tempting, to say the least. He had to look away and calm himself down, or she was going to catch just how much he ached to show her just how much he appreciated the view. His words came out soft, sincere, and a little shy, as he worried about coming on too strong. Alice is skittish about romance, and if he approaches her too fast, he might ruin things.

The flattery works very well on Alice, though inwardly she struggles to believe it. When Jack continues to praise her, talking in detail about what works about her outfit and her appearance, she gets so flustered she has to tell him to stop. Her face is cherry red, and her heart is pounding so hard she’s sure he can hear it. It feels way, way too good, and she redirects the conversation towards getting to the wedding on time.

Jack adores her reaction, and he wants to keep making Alice flustered, but he allows her to change the topic. It’s addicting to overwhelm her with praise and making her feel good, but he knows when to stop. Someday she’ll be ready for him to tease and please her as much as he wants. Someday.

The wedding is a beautiful ceremony, and Jack imagines that it’s him and Alice standing there before the officiant, saying such sweet vows of love. He can even imagine some of the things he would say to her. The couple only has eyes for each other, and he can’t help but want that, his gaze constantly straying to his sunshine. To his delight, she sneaks glimpses at him as well, only to look away quickly with pinked cheeks when he catches her looking.

Yet there’s a faint hint of somberness to Alice throughout the wedding, a wistfulness that doesn’t escape Jack’s notice. He waits until she’s away from others during the reception to ask her if she’s doing alright. She says she’s fine, and he gently broaches the subject of how she feels about getting married someday.

Alice is pensive as she swirls the drink in her hand, non-alcoholic despite the open bar. Her thoughts are all over the place, wanting what the married couple have, but thinking that’s something out of her reach now, along with other complicated thoughts about Ian.

After Alice admits she isn’t sure, Jack tells her it’s okay to still want this, to want to get married. His perceptiveness startles her yet again, and he continues before she can linger on it for too long, telling her that just because Ian’s love is fake doesn’t mean that all love is. Someday, she’ll realize there’s someone who truly loves her and will only look at her like the beautiful, irreplaceable treasure that she is, forever.

Alice is blushing all the way to her ears after that and barely manages to thank Jack, overwhelmed. Her heart pounds, and a small part of her can’t help but think that he certainly makes her feel that way... and how it feels almost too good to be around him at times.

Jack is quick to remind Alice that he’ll always be there for her, as long as she wants him to be. Again she can barely do anything more than thank him, but she appreciates him entering her life. She wished for a friend, and he’s everything she could ask for and more.

Soon enough someone comes by asking for her and their conversation comes to an end, much to Jack’s regret. However, before going back, Alice sneaks a squeeze to Jack’s hand, which he tenderly returns.

As Alice returns to the reception, she thinks that maybe Jack is right. Maybe someday she can be as happy as the married couple, only with the right person by her side.

After Alice and Jack get together as a couple, the subject of marriage is brought up again. Though it’s a heart pounding topic for both of them, there is the logistics of it they need to consider. It’s a more serious discussion that hangs heavy over the happy light and fluffy feelings.

A big wedding ceremony isn’t going to happen, sadly. Even a marriage certificate won’t work out, as ghosts(?) aren’t something the law is much concerned about. They could never get married in front of a bunch of friends and family who wish them well on their new life together.

Jack promises that he’ll be with Alice forever as long as she wants him to be, even without a ceremony, softly kissing her lips to emphasize his love. She asks timidly if he really wants forever with her.

“More than anything,” Jack breathes before kissing Alice again, this time more deeply.

The conversation starts to fragment from there. Words of love and promises of forever are exchanged. Jack needs to hear her say that’s what Alice wants too, and oh when his sweet sunshine says the words he longs to hear... he just has to show how much he loves her.

It’s not an outright proposal in so many words, but the sentiment is there, a small thought at the back of both their minds. It’s a promise that sparks desire and the two of them make love several times that night.

Dates between the pair range from innocent outings having fun, like visiting the park, the museum, the movies, etc... to more intimate private dates at home.

Though, admittedly, the “innocent” outings didn’t exactly stay G-rated like they did before they were dating. Jack just can’t help himself, and there’s a thrill to whisk his sunshine off into a secluded area where they’re not supposed to be so that he can show her his love even in a place where they might get caught. Alice is so cute when she struggles to remain quiet, especially when he can be as noisy as he wants, constantly showering her with sweet words and encouragement as she takes him so deep. It’s so much fun to see her flustered face, flush with excitement, and to tease her gently about them making love in such a risky place even as he praises her for it.

On those sorts of dates, Alice dresses a little nicer, but not too much, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from other people. It’s on the date nights at home that she tries to make special sometimes by dressing up in clothes definitely too... inappropriate to wear to a wedding.

(Oh hey, it’s my art for a change! Remember this from Alice’s initial concept sheet?)

Thigh-high stockings, a short skirt, midriff showing, fishnet sleeves, delicate jewelry, high heels, hair styled, and makeup carefully done... Alice might struggle to see herself as attractive, but she still gives it her all when dressing up for a date that isn’t just a casual outing. She wants to feel attractive on these nights... and Jack certainly does his absolute best to make sure she does.

Jack dresses up as well in that nice fancy suit. He can’t look shabby when Alice tried so hard to dress up for him, can he? The sight of her after she comes out of the bedroom once she’s finished is just... wow. He’s stunned every time, but his heart skips a beat as he realizes she bought a new outfit just for his eyes only. It’s such a rare treat to see her wearing clothes made to flatter her body instead of hiding it away.

At the same time, a more primal part of Jack wants to mess up all that hard work Alice put into her appearance. He wants to pin her down to the bed, smear the lipstick with his kisses, displace her top to give him access to her breasts and leave marks as rosy as her lips. He wants to pull her panties aside and gain access to the hidden treasure underneath, to drive himself deep inside her as she wraps her stocking-covered legs around him and calls his name as he reduces her to a beautiful loving mess.

Jack has to take a moment to compose himself. Later, he promises himself. Oh, there will be time to make plenty of messes with his sunshine later, but first comes the date. Alice worked so hard for his sake, and he would never want her to feel like her plans went to waste... and he certainly doesn’t want to throw away his own.

While Alice spent all that time getting ready, Jack cooked them a delicious meal. He went all out, preparing all of her favorite dishes. He even lit a couple (very colorful) candles to set a romantic atmosphere. She gave him access to her phone a while back, so he uses it to turn on the playlist he selected. He made sure to pick only nice romantic songs that would add to the atmosphere and not distract from it.

Alice has no idea what Jack has in store. She’s just happy to be on a date with him, treasuring these private moments together. They talk, they laugh, and they enjoy the meal he worked so hard to make. Jack doesn’t eat often since he doesn’t have to, and he’s mindful of her financial situation, but Alice enjoys eating together with him, especially on special occasions. He basks in her praise for his cooking, as well as the happy noises she makes as she takes those first surprised and pleasured bites. It makes all the work he put into cooking worth it, and when he mentions how he made it with love, her cheeks turn pink, and she tries to banter back that she can feel it.

“So can I,” Jack says, his dark eyes soft and adoring as he reaches across the table to place his hand on hers. Alice turns her hand over to lace their fingers together and admires his eyes in the romantic candlelight. “Sunshine... Alice... I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jack,” Alice replies just as fondly, and she can say it easily now, her light blue eyes soft and shining in the light. “So very much.”

Even though the sun went down a couple hours before, Jack feels as though he’s basking in warm sunshine when Alice looks at him like that, and her words make him melt into a puddle of goo.

It’s time. Jack stands to move around the table to Alice’s side, their hands still laced together. She smiles at him and reaches out for him with her other hand as he bends down, expecting a kiss or even more... only for him to go lower. It catches her off-guard until she sees him get down on one knee and pull a ring box out of his pocket.

Alice is too stunned so speak, so Jack fills in the silence. He had an entire speech prepared. He talks about how much he loves her, how much she meant to him, how much she’s always meant to him since the day they met. She’s his angel who saved him from hell. She always looked at him like a person and cared about him even when she was afraid he wasn’t real or that his intentions might not be truthful at first. She was so kind and courageous, giving him a chance to prove how much he cared about her despite her misgivings or how hurt she was in the past.

Jack knows he can’t give her a grand wedding in front of all her friends and family... he can’t even promise a legal marriage. What he can promise is forever. Even if the world could never understand what they have, it doesn’t need to, because their love is more important than anything else in the world.

“Alice... will you marry me?”

The speech moved Alice to tears, smearing her makeup, but she was beyond caring. It was all she could do to choke back a whimper or sob so she wouldn’t miss a single word of his proposal. However, even after Jack finishes, her voice won’t work, too choked up with emotions, and she manages to nod. In her heart, she screams the word “Yes!” over and over, but her voice won’t cooperate with her. When she still can’t speak, she throws herself into his arms and clings close, nodding over and over as she buries her face into Jack’s neck and cries, overwhelmed and full of joy.

“It’s okay,” Jack coos softly as he nuzzles into her hair. “Take your time. I’ll be right here when you can say it out loud.” He kisses her softly then. “God... I love you so much.”

“Y... yes,” Alice eventually forces out, her voice cracking. “Yes,” she says again a little stronger. She repeats the word again and again, as it comes more easily each time. Finally she pulls back, her carefully done makeup ruined, but to Jack she’s never looked more beautiful. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Jack... Jack, I love you so much.”

Jack can’t hold back, he kisses Alice, pouring all his love into that single gesture. She returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm, pawing at his back, a part of her desperately trying to get closer to him than is humanly possible. He draws her closer in return, only parting when she needs to breathe. As she catches her breath, her face adorably flushed, he slips the ring on her finger.

For a moment, Alice can only stare at the ring in wonder. It’s a beautiful thing, a gold band with a sunburst design around a blue stone with red and yellow accents. After a moment though, she has to ask how he got it, wondering if it’s something as supernatural (and unseen by others) as his changes of clothes.

Jack admits he ordered it online from a jeweler. He had to do it secretly so she wouldn’t find out, but he earned the money himself.

Stunned, Alice can only ask how, and though Jack is loathe to bring up Shaun during a moment like this that should be only about the two of them, he has to mention his friend and rival because he does owe Shaun for helping him. Practical effects for a horror movie are a lot more effective and unsettling with a ghost(?)’s help after all.

Alice can’t help but be moved by how far Jack went for her sake, and the tears flow anew. She kisses him, and he eagerly returns it. The time for talk has passed, and now it’s time for them to show how much they love each other with their bodies.

The mess they make together is even more amazing than Jack imagined. Alice is so beautiful wearing his engagement ring, moaning his name and telling him how much she loves him, forever. He makes sure to reward her for saying those beautiful words he longed to hear for so long by praising her, worshipping her body, and making sure she feels nothing less than the most beautiful and lovely person in the world.

Whatever else Alice might have expected to happen on their date night between dinner and their bedroom is forgotten as they lose themselves in each other. Even after Jack finishes inside her, he doesn’t pull out, and she won’t let him either with the way her legs remain securely locked around his hips. Kisses, soft and lazy follow in the afterglow, peppered with soft murmurs of love.

It would be a perfect end to the night, but Jack isn’t done, not by a long shot. Soon the fire is stoked again, and Alice welcomes to heat. She loses track of how many times they make each other cum, and soon all she can say is his name as he thoroughly loves her well into the night.

The next day, a text is sent in to her boss from her phone, stating that Alice is too sick to go to work. Jack lets her sleep in late for once and admires the way the morning sun makes his sunshine, his fiancée, shine.

They really will be together forever. Alice, this beautiful, wonderful ray of sunshine who pulled him out of hell truly loves him and wants to be with him forever. Jack can truly believe it now, and he’s never felt happier.

[gretchensinister]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @marypsue for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

732 oh gosh it needs to have text next to it to not show up giant

2. What’s your total word count?

1,316,095 aha you can tell most of my fics are short

3. What fandoms do you write for?

What I am currently preoccupied with is The Dark Crystal/The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance. The vast majority of my fics are for Rise of the Guardians, and I have one fairly substantial fic each for Thor and Venom.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Give You Everything, not surprised about this one, it's Eddie/Venom and I published it a little less than four months after Venom came out in theaters. 2. Single Snowflakes, this one is a surprise? It's barely over 1K, T for subject matter, Bunny/Jack where Jack talks about past trauma with Bunny. I wouldn't have written it except that this was part of my project to fill every prompt on Round 1 of the Rise of the Guardians Dreamwidth kinkmeme. I guess it resonated with people??? 3. How Old? Another Bunny/Jack fic, G-rated and very short. 4. What it Means to Ask, yet ANOTHER Bunny/Jack fic, G-rated, but about how serious the concept of being a "mate" is in Pooka culture. How Old? was also related to that. 5. Down and Dirty-a wrestling-type fight between Jack and Bunny turns into sex.

What have we learned? The Jackrabbit fans, they are legion.

5. Do you respond to comments?

For the past several years, yes, pretty much always. Back in 2012 when I was just starting to post on Ao3, I was like unto a nervous deer and sometimes didn't respond. But I did print out all the comments on Without Contraries There Is No Progression (Pitch/Sandy that got me writing big complete things) and put them on my fridge at the time. It helped me get my master's degree.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The one that comes to the top of my head is Warmer Than I Thought. Jack's dying because he just didn't have enough believers when he became a Guardian. He's not going to come back with continuity of self. Pitch is there to offer him some scant comfort as he goes.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I mostly write happy endings, honestly, but the honor of the most happy and resolved ending goes to His Time, which is chronologically the last fic in my Rise of the Guardians Apotheosis AU. It's a far-distant future, OT8, everyone is together and essentially the pantheon of a new planet they made after Earth is gone due to the expansion of the sun. They are trying to make it go well this time, and so far succeeding.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

The closest thing to hate I ever got was on my explicit Thorki fic...from a person complaining about how much I had Thor and Loki talk to each other.

9. Do you write smut?

I write a lot of explicit sex, yes.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I've written a fair number in my prompt-fill project, but it's not something I'm drawn to write.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I've never known about any of my fics being stolen.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone talked to me about translating one of my fics and I was very excited and I said yes. However I don't know what came of that because things happened and I fell out of communication with the potential translator. Maybe they finished it and I don't know about it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and I don't think I would, unless it was part of a strictly structured event/project.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Well, it's Pitch Black/Sandman. Conceptually, the ships I'm drawn to have ties to dichotomies of dark/light, good/evil, cosmic opposites kind of thing. Pitch and Sandy, as personifications of nightmares and dreams, were a perfect vessel for that obsession.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I told my friends, "I'm not going to rewrite The Phantom of the Opera." And I'm not. But there's a version of PotO that I wanted that uh, isn't what any of the big official versions gave me. So I started writing and I have 49,615 words so far. If I don't find a way to finish it I think I will end up posting it as something permanently unfinished, because there's a lot that I like in it now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have been told in a real graduate writing workshop that I have good dialogue. I also like to think I'm pretty good at sensory descriptions.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The things I find extremely difficult are endings and like, plots where things happen--I want so badly to write a big complicated Space Empire story but like. How is does political intrigue? (This house is FEELINGS ONLY.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I don't think I'd ever do it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Almost certainly Dragonball Z. If all goes well, my friend and I may have the chance to excavate some of my old notebooks during the holidays and then--it's archive time and that is a threat.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

It's A Draught of Light, which I love as it is, and for proving that I could write an alternate-world epic fantasy novel as long as I didn't like, admit that's what I was doing. I do admit though that I have an edited version that takes it farther away from being fanfic that I like even better. Maybe I should, hmm, start taking steps to making that version available, if you understand what I mean.

Who do I know writing out there that hasn't been tagged yet? @queerpyracy, @purplebloodedmajesty, @incurablenecromantic