#he has the intense eyes i imagine kevin does

[simonsrosebud]

um guys.

tom blythe is lowkey but also very much kevin day

[ladylooch]

Letters in Your Last Name - Chapter 14

A/N: Can you tell I haven't even attempted trying to figure out the queue?? LOL.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: COVID, lil angsty, medical diagnosis, swearing, implied smut,

All I want for Christmas is you. 

“Fuck off, Mariah Carey.” I think to myself on Christmas night at the words of her iconic song filtering in from the Bose speaker in the kitchen.

Silently, I’m sitting in a plush chair in the corner of the living room. The kids are playing with their presents. Alex and Felicia are cleaning up dinner in the kitchen. The fire in the living room is crackling softly, popping on occasion as the logs break down into embers. The snow is falling gently outside and I know if I go out there, the night will be as silent as I imagine it to be. All of us are wearing matching PJs. It’s their family tradition they started when Sawyer was born. They got me a set because they didn’t want me to feel left out. The good intentions were there, but the truth is it makes me feel more alone and out of place.

I wish Kevin was here. I close my eyes and imagine him in Sweden. It’s no longer Christmas there, but I know he was with Andreas and his family. Kevin is used to celebrating the holidays without his family, instead being taken in to others and their traditions. He says he doesn’t mind, but I think he does now, not being here with us. We spoke earlier in the day, but he seemed distracted and distant, which just added to the loneliness I already feel. I know he will be back soon, but my heart longs for him today.

“Sam.” Alex’s voice drifts to me from across the room. I glance in his direction. “You have a visitor.” Him and Felicia share a knowing look.

I peek towards the door, not seeing anyone in the entry way. Confused, I slowly get up, trudging across the carpet. I still don’t see anyone as I glance to the front door.

“Who is it?” I narrow my eyes suspiciously at my brother.

“You’ll see. Grab your coat and mask.” He tells me, giving me nothing more as he turns back to rinsing the dishes. I grab both from the front closet, shrugging my jacket over my pajamas. I flip my hair out of the collar and switch my slippers for my Uggs. I almost fall as I step out onto the front porch.

“Eek!” I squeak, grabbing the front door to stabilize myself.

The light snow from this evening has turned to ice on the porch. Apparently it’s gotten a bit colder as the day has gone on. As I straighten, I look to the right and see a familiar Black Audi parked in the driveway. My mouth drops open in shock and I swing around, looking for him. There, my Christmas present patiently awaits for me. Kevin Fiala’s hands are stuffed into the pockets of his Adidas sweatpants. The ends of his hair are flipping up around the edges of his black hat and he looks so damn delectable even with the white N95 mask on his face. His brown eyes twinkle back at me with the same intensity of the Christmas lights wrapped around the railing.

“Kev!” I move towards him and he holds his hands up in caution.

“Put your mask on, babe. I just got here from the airport.” Behind his mask and in his voice, I can feel the smile on his face. I quickly secure my mask and walk towards him, already forgetting about the slick surface of the porch. I can feel the tears burning my eyes as I reach him. I slip again, but his hands grasp my upper arms to steady me. He pulls me into his arms with no hesitation and I bury my face directly into his chest.

“Hi baby.” He murmurs, holding me close as we sway slightly. He smooths my hair down with his hand, keeping me flush against his chest.

“Hi! I have missed you so much.” I sob to him. Tears are streaming down my face and sinking into the mask on my face. Stupid COVID. Stupid masks. Stupid every layer of cloth keeping us from each other’s skin.

“Me too… Me too.” He lets out a heavy sigh. We stay like that for minutes, maybe even hours, I don’t know. All I know is that the feeling of being in his arms has erased every hard minute of the last few months. All the pain, sadness, and fear is gone and every fiber of my being is pulsing with love for the man in my arms.

“I really want to kiss you.” He finally murmurs to me. I tilt my chin up to look into his face. His hands come up to my cheeks and he cautiously wipes his thumbs under my eyes. “I’d like to kiss these away too.” His eyes are soft as they look into mine.

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” I tell him, snuggling back into his chest. “I thought you weren’t coming until next week?”

“I moved my flight. I told you I would be here as soon as I could. My Visa was approved two days ago and I grabbed the first flight I found.” He admits to me. “I just need to get this quarantine over and then we can really be together.”

“I guess I have to stay here?” I laugh at him, thinking about the current quarantine guidelines for the NHL. Now that he is back, we will both need to be tested for COVID several times the next few days. “I definitely didn’t bring enough clothes.”

“Yeah, at least for 7 days you’ll need to be here. I’ll bring you some clothes tomorrow.” I nod in response and grow quiet again. I close my eyes and listen to the steady beating of his heart. All the days and nights that I dreamed of this moment, don’t even come close to being as good as the real thing. He’s warm, solid, and smells as delicious as I remember.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to let go of you.” I tell Kevin. Truthfully though, the chill is beginning to sneak into my coat. My fingers and nose are ice cold, and yet now that he’s here, I can’t let him leave.

“We have time. I brought a blanket.” He says, reaching down to the porch for the fleece blanket and wrapping it around us.

“You think of everything.” I giggle to him. “I should have brought my mittens out.” I mumble.

“Put your hands in my jacket.” He opens his jacket and I set them against his warm sides. He gives a little shiver in response. I move my hands to his chest and stare at them there, before slowly moving them up to wrap around his neck.

“I’d risk it.” I whisper, desperately wanting to pull our masks down and place our lips together. “It would be worth it.” He leans down and places his forehead against mine.

“You know I want to eat you up, babe. But I’m not going to live with that on my conscious. We are already closer than we should be.”

“I understand.” I nod, meeting his gaze with a soft look.

“Come sit with me.” He points to the swing on the porch. We walk over and wrap together under the blanket. I lay my head against his shoulder as Kevin rocks us gently. “Maybe we can sleep outside tonight?” He jokes, looking at the temperature gage that reads 19 degrees.

We sit on the porch for another hour, talking some but mostly just holding one another. A light snow has begun to fall again. I have lost feeling in my fingers and the parts of my face not protected from the chill of Winter. A hard shiver rolls through me, making me burrow tighter into Kevin’s arms.

“I think it’s time, babe.” Kevin murmurs to me, “You might actually get sick if you stay out here.”

“No.” I pout at him, even as my chattering teeth make it difficult to speak. “I-I’m not that c-cold.” Kevin gives me a sarcastic look and encourages me to stand.

“I’ll be back with your clothes tomorrow… and with extra layers for our porch date.”

“I want less layers on you.” I tell him breathlessly, thinking of just how long it’s been since I’ve had him.

Kevin’s eyes get a little darker and his voice turns dead serious.

“Soon.” He assures me. “I’ve been thinking for months about all the things I want to do to you.”

“Tell me.” I insist, grabbing at his jacket to pull him closer.

“Sam.” Kevin gives me a warning as I reach for the front of his pants.

“You suck.” I whisper out in frustration. Why can’t he just stop caring about my wellbeing and bend me over this railing to fuck me? Whew.. yeah... it’s been awhile.

“I want you to be sucking me.” He winks before grabbing the blanket and guiding me towards the front door.

“In your car?” I question with hopeful eyes. Kevin gives a genuine laugh and in his eyes I can see how large his grin is behind his mask.

“How about when I get back to our place, I call you and walk you through all the areas I want to touch you.” I purse my lips and let out a deep sigh.

“Kevin.”

“Samantha.” He wraps me tightly in his arms again and I burrow into his chest as deep as I can. He strokes my brown hair and rocks us softly back and forth. “I’ll call you in 20 minutes.”

“I love you, Kev.” I mumble to him as we gingerly pull apart.

“I love you too.” He gives me one more longing look before he walks over to the stairs. He looks back at me as he rounds the hood of his car. “Go inside.” He calls to me. I roll my eyes, but do as requested.

From the warmth of the entry way, I watch Kevin’s Audi pull away. He waves to me one last time before he begins his journey to Minneapolis where he will quarantine until all our COVID tests confirm it is safe for me to join him. I smile softly and watch until after his tail lights disappear down the snowy street. My smile follows me into the living room where everyone is snuggled together watching Elf. I unzip my jacket and throw it onto the chair beside the kitchen. Alex glances back at me and gives me a grin.

“Thank you.” I say to him, knowing he could have told Kevin to stay away but didn’t.

“COVID has taken enough from us. It didn’t need to take that too.” He gives me a brief nod.

“We are watching Elf. Want to join?” Felicia wonders as she takes a bite of popcorn.

“No.” I tell her, heading towards the stairs. “I’ve got an important phone call in twenty minutes that I can’t afford to miss.”

She gives me a knowing look then bursts out laughing as Alex puts his head in his hands.

Hey, Alex never said anything about phone sex.

_ _ _

“Auntie, I want to play hockey.” Sawyer puffs out in annoyance.

“I know, bud. I’m sorry.” I give him a frown and open my arms for a hug. All youth sports in the state are still shut down due to increasing case numbers. Sawyer is going stir crazy not being able to play the game he loves. “Come here.” He steps into my embrace and lets out a sad puff of a sigh.

“This isn’t fair.”

“No, it’s not.” I confirm to him.

The kids and I are in the living room trying to pass time while we wait for their parents to return. Alex had an MRI this morning in St. Paul and had follow up appointment immediately after. I’ve been trying to be patient and distract the kids and I with multiple activities throughout the day, but it hasn’t helped. I lay my cheek against my nephew’s head and think back to a few days after Christmas.

Everything was great. Kevin was cleared from quarantine and back to practice with the team. I moved back home with Kevin and we finally got to let out months of built up sexual frustration on each other. Make up sex is nice and all, but have you ever been fucked after missing each other for MONTHS? Cause that is the stuff that makes your body turn into literal jell-o.

Things took a drastic turn when Alex wasn’t immediately cleared to join the team after his physical. Because of having COVID earlier in the Fall, he had to undergo additional testing, including an EKG to ensure there were not lasting effects from the virus. We are still unsure how Alex ever tested positive for COVID being he was asymptomatic and the rest of us constantly tested negative. But this virus works in mysterious ways that we still don’t fully understand. This was confirmed even more when his EKG was irregular. To get a better understanding, doctors ordered an MRI. Until we have more answers, I’ve been keeping Alex’s struggles to myself. I say it’s to protect his privacy, but it’s likely more denial than anything else.

“Can we go play at the park?” Sawyer wonders, pulling back and looking hopeful.

“It’s too cold buddy. Your little fingers would break right off your body.” I tease him, giving him a few ticklish pokes. Sawyer lets out a disappointed sigh and I have to hide my smile from him. Winters in Minnesota can be brutal, especially with kids who have already been holed up for months.

“We can watch Mighty Ducks?” I suggest to him. He immediately nods his head in agreement and jumps onto the couch. The Mighty Ducks is one of his favorite series. During the last lockdown, he kept practicing his knuckle puck on Alex in the driveway.

We are getting to the scene where the Gordon Bombay rolls onto the ice in the limo when Alex and Felicia come walking through the door. Their faces are somber and I know the news they have is not good. I swallow a gulp and wait for what to do. Felicia comes to the couch, gathering her children into her arms and snuggling them in close. I can tell how hard she is trying to keep it together and my heart aches for her.

“Sam, can you come with me?” Alex asks, motioning to his office at the front of the house. I nod and step off the couch to follow him. He shuts the door and pulls out his phone. “I’m going to call mom, dad, and Nick too.” I nod in understanding and settle into the chair on the other side of his desk.

“Hi honey.” I hear my mom answer the phone. She seemingly has been expecting this call. “Your dad and Nick are here too.”

“Good. I’ve got Sam with me.” Alex informs them before running a hand through his hair. “So, the doctor’s confirmed my heart is enlarged on the MRI today.” My mom gasps and lets out a strangled cry. My heart lurches in my chest and begins to pound in response to the curdling fear streaking through me.

“Shit.” I hear Nick say. I can imagine his head is in his hands.

“Yeah..” Alex trails off, letting his words sink in to all of us.

“What are the next steps?” My dad asks. I can hear sniffling and I know it’s my mom crying.

“A lot more appointments. They really didn’t tell me anything except that I need to keep my heart rate down completely for at least 6 weeks. This is something new they are finding in high performing athletes.. so there’s a lot of unknown at this point. They’re going to send my results out to a cardiologist in Boston who specializes in cardiovascular issues specific to professional athletes to get another opinion.”

“That’s good.” Nick says, “the more people involved the better care you will get.” At this point, my mom has begun sobbing. Alex and I share an uncomfortable look.

“That’s really all I know for now. I know this sucks, but we will get some more answers and find a way through.” My heart aches at how strong he is being. I know he is scared, but he is putting on this brave front for my parents. “Felicia and I need to chat with the kids, so I’ve gotta go.”

“You call if you need anything!” My mom blubbers between sobs. Alex insists he will.

“What can I do?” I ask Alex once he ends the call. He looks up at me and I can see the pinch of fear in his eyes. I try not to respond but can’t help the tears building in my eyes.

“Um, I don’t really know yet. Probably just help with the kids.” He shakes his head. “God damn it, this sucks.” He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, bouncing a bit in his seat.

“I’m sorry.” I tell him truthfully. “I don’t know what else to say, but I’m here.”

“Thanks.” Alex nods at my words. “I love you, Sammy.” He calls me by my childhood nickname. “Gosh, mom really lost it there at the end. I feel bad.”

“People get sick, Al. It’s part of life.” I shrug my shoulders.

“As a parent, I get her fear, ya know? If this was one of my kids.. I’d be a mess too.”

“It’s you. And you’re everything to this family…” I trail off, not able to add in anything about what losing him would be like. Alex and I share a loaded glance before I have to turn away, looking out the window at the snowy yard.

“I have more follow ups with the doctors tomorrow, so I should hopefully know some more about my treatment plan. All they really said was nothing for 6 weeks.”

“So no training camp?” I question.

“No. I can’t even be at the rink because of COVID protocols either.” He stands, stuffing his phone into his pocket before walking around the desk to me. He gives me a hug. I’m careful not to squeeze him too hard, worried that he's become too fragile to withstand anything more. “You need to tell Kevin tonight. They’re telling the rest of the team tomorrow morning and he shouldn’t find out that way.”

“I’ll tell him.” I confirm.

When I finally get the chance to call Kevin later in the day, I’m beyond exhausted. The FaceTime jingle rings out until Kevin answers the phone, chewing on a protein bar. I wait as he places his AirPods into his ears.

“Hey babe, are you on your way?” He wonders, taking another bite of his bar and crunching on it. He walks over to the windows in our place, looking out at the skyline.

“No, I’m needed here to figure out dinner.” This is not an infrequent occurrence. When Alex and Kevin are traveling, I find myself staying here late and often to help Felicia with the kids.

“Okay, do you want me to come over?” He asks absentmindedly. My eyebrows pull down in annoyance at his inattention. If he would just look at me, he would see the utter anguish on my features. I sit quietly and wait for him to turn his attention back to me. “Sorry.” He laughs sheepishly, noticing the silence. “The sky looks really cool right now with the sunset.” His grin vanishes when he takes in my face. “What’s up?” He goes to sit on the couch and I can tell I have his full attention now.

“Something is going on with Alex.” I begin slowly. “In order to return to the ice, he had to pass a physical that included an EKG because of what happened with Marco.” Marco Rossi is an up and coming prospect with the Wild who unexpectedly was found to have the same diagnosis as Alex after having COVID. “We thought it was just a formality until the testing came back… irregular. The doctors wanted Alex to get an MRI, which he did, and today they confirmed that his heart is enlarged. He was officially diagnosed with myocarditis.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. So, he’s going to miss training camp and likely the beginning of the season. The doctors said he can’t do anything for at least 6 weeks while we wait for his heart to heal. It’s all really scary. The doctors keep saying this is so new that they don’t know much about it and we are all scared. I mean.. he could literally just drop dead of cardiac arrest out of nowhere.” By the end a sob escapes my lips and I drop my head into my hands to cry. I’ve been strong all day and I can’t pretend with Kevin.

“Baby.. I’m so sorry. I’m coming over.” He ends the FaceTime call as I fall back into the pillows on the bed.

When Kevin enters the room 20 minutes later, I stand and run down the bed towards him. He catches me in his arms and immediately rests his cheek against mine, smoothing my hair. He doesn’t shush me. He doesn’t make any false promises that it will be okay. He’s just present and strong. We stay quietly like that until Kevin walks us back over to the bed. He pulls the covers down and we climb in. I nuzzle my face into his chest and he places a soft kiss on my hair.

As Kevin holds me, my body begins to relax.

“This sucks.” Kevin finally says to me.

“Yeah.” I whimper out. “At this point, the unknown is the scariest part. Like.. what is too much for his heart rate to be up? What if playing with the kids is too much and he just drops dead in the living room.”

“I know it’s scary, babe. But you can’t think about those scenarios right now. He has a team of doctors that are going to ensure he gets the best care. He’s in really great hands.”

“You’re right. He’s lucky.” I murmur, rubbing slow circles into Kevin’s abs. “Did you see him when you got here?

“No Felicia let me in.” I nod in response. “How is he though?”

“Scared. Angry. Shocked. I don’t think this has fully sunk in for him yet.”

“That’s understandable. Maybe you should stay here with them for a few days.”

“No, I want to be home with you. Plus, I think they will want some time to be together as just the four of them.”

“Okay, I support whatever you need to do.”

“Thanks, Kev. And thank you for coming here. You’re everything I’ve needed all day.”

“Of course, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.” Kevin says as he plays with the edge of my sweatshirt.

“No.” I say to Kevin when his hand slides under and reaches for my breast.

“You need a distraction… and I’ve got a great dick.” I giggle at that.

“Baby. We can’t.”

“But you love my dick.”

“Yes I do. Excellent dick. 5 stars.” We both laugh.

“I haven’t had you enough since I’ve been back. It will help.” He insists, sucking lightly on my neck. I sigh and lean into his lips.

“I know it would.” I breathe out. “Later. I promise.” He pulls back begrudgingly. “I’m in charge of dinner and we need to decide what to have. At least, that’s one thing I know I can help with today.”

“Pizza?” He wonders hopefully.

“I’m sure we can convince the kiddos to eat that.” We move to get out of bed and Kevin adjusts himself in his pants. I give him a knowing smile, shaking my head. “Need a minute?”

“I’m good now.”

We step from the guest room and begin to walk up the stairs to the kitchen. I glance over at Kevin who gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. The ache in my chest has lessened to a bearable amount. The kids are in the living room and squeal excitedly when Kevin appears. Serena immediately ropes him into coloring princess pictures with her and Kevin happily obliges.

“Her hair can’t be blue!” Serena laughs, trying to take the blue crayon from Kevin.

“Ah, this is my picture, ma’am. Feedback is not being taken at this time.” Kevin hold his hand up to her as Serena looks away in judgement. Kevin and I share a laugh at the look on her face. In a non-normal day, this brings genuine joy to watch. I leisurely stroll into the kitchen, pulling the Pizza Luce menu off the fridge to pick out items for dinner.

“Kev.” I hear Alex acknowledge my boyfriend. I snap my head up and watch my older brother closely. Kevin stands up and gives my brother a hug along with a pat on the back. They share a nod and step apart. “Pizza for dinner?” Alex asks me as he walks to the fridge.

“Yeah, I figured something easy would be best.”

“Okay. Get some dessert too. I’m starving.”

“What’s new.” I roll my eye jokingly at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex gives me a dismissive wave before joining Kevin and the kids on the floor. “Blue hair? Is that cool in Sweden?”

“For sure.” Kevin laughs. “You should try it. The blue would look good with our jersey colors.”

“Blue might be too much. Although fire engine red is appealing.” Alex reads off the color of the crayon.

“Daddy, no.” Sawyer says with total seriousness that makes all of us laugh loudly.

As the laughing settles into a comfortable silence, I find myself smiling despite the heaviness of the day.

For the first time since early this morning, I feel like everything is going to be okay.

[sastielsfandom]

Not only do I feel like my blog needs some joy in it, but I need it for my sanity. 

So here's a jumble of my random thoughts I've had these past few months that I haven't been able to share since I've been busy. Also, I'll throw in some fic ideas cause why not. 

One fic I've had that I'm still trying to flesh out a bit. Sam lives in a fishing town, and he's a diver. He spends a lot of time in the water even outside of his job. 

On one of his days off, he finds himself face to face with a mermaid. But days before this he kept seeing these blue eyes everywhere and when he finally faced them, they were more  captivating than he ever could have imagined. 

He doesn't tell anyone, and instead, the next day, looks for the mermaid again. Away from the docks. And it meets up with him again, but this time, they talk. 

Sam finds himself in a routine, no matter what, every day he meets up with this mermaid, Castiel. 

The thing is it's getting harder and harder to walk away when he sees Castiel's disappointment when Sam leaves. 

When Sam does eventually miss one day, due to things out of his control, the next day, Castiel doesn't show up. Sam waits there until nightfall, still no appearance. 

The next day, even with doubt, Sam visits, and he finds Castiel and someone casting a spell. A spell on Castiel who's screaming in pain as he transforms into a human. 

There's a lot more to this AU, but I don't want to give away the whole story, it's one of my favorite AUs to work on even though I don't have anything published for it yet. 

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Another fic I've been meaning to work on is my soulmate's AU. I have a cool idea of when Sam and Castiel meet, Castiel being fully powered, still connected to Heaven, and Sam, still being in tune with his powers, there's even more of a magnetic pull between them. And it hurts to touch, but in a way that is hard to let go of. That mixed in with the fact that both of them can now see every color they missed before, the feelings must be intense in that scene. 

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Just in general though for Sastiel, the idea that the two have trouble identifying reality, and end up becoming each other's grounding anchors is a neat idea. Especially as they spend more and more time together, they know each other so well, it's easier to separate their minds from messing with them and what's reality. 

I've written about this for Sam, and Castiel helping, but I haven't had Sam be that anchor for Castiel yet. 

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A step away from romance, my headcanon that Dean loses his hearing from Castiel using their true voice, I've added onto it. I think the idea that both Sam and Dean learn ASL because it's necessary, and it gives them an advantage when they can't say anything, but can sign something. 

So when they eventually meet Eileen, it's funny to think that Sam gets so flustered he just messes up ASL despite using it all the time with Dean, but also, Dean and Eileen communicating in ASL is everything I need. 

Especially because they'd be able to bond over losing their hearing from something supernatural, and adapting from it. That's something that I eventually want to write someday. 

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Oh, another AU is where Kevin doesn't die. And instead, ends up being a brother figure for Jack because Kevin knows for a fact that the Winchesters and Castiel know nothing about raising a child. And so someone has to make sure this poor child isn't completely screwed and traumatized. (He is well aware that he is also screwed up and traumatized but it's no mystery why he is, stares pointedly at the Winchesters.) 

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Oh, a very old idea I've had is Jack, Magda, and Elijah finding a stray animal, and promptly sneaking it into the bunker. That one is such a fun prompt, I just haven't been able to do it justice. 

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Returning back to some romance, I have to spread the saileenstiel propaganda of course. I do think it very much starts off as a, we both like Sam, and Sam likes us both. But when they can see Sam has plenty of love for the both of them, they are able to see that they like each other as well. 

Oh, I'd also love to write something with them having a day out with Elijah, Madga, and Jack. Maybe at the beach or a nature hike. That would be fun to write. 

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I was also brainrotting a lot for Dean and Cassie, and what if Dean did go back to see her. Or what if he didn't go to Lisa but to Cassie. Which I'm unsure if I've talked about before. Either way, I'm talking about it again. I still very much want to write a fic about their first date or the first time they just lounged around doing nothing but it felt like everything. 

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Also, I really need to finish my Debriel fic, it's written but not written. The dialogue is there, as well as rough, very very rough, actions, it just needs to be edited. And some motivation to return to it. 

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I would love to do more crossover fics, especially like Marvel and Supernatural. I have a few started, I just never finish them. Apart from the one with Jack and Peter which was based on a textpost. 

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Switching to Marvel, Interwebs, I want to write about them again. One of my fics made me miss them which was rude because it's unfair that my writing can make me miss my writing. 

I want more cuddles and dates and just overly sweet fluffy fics for them. And maybe some more bittersweet ones as well. I don't know why but I like the bittersweet idea for them.

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I've been meaning to write a winterfalcon fic for ages, even just based on a text post or something, I just tend to forget I can write about them. 

Same thing for thunder science (Bruce and Thor), any ideas I have for them I forget I'm a writer. 

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Kind of want a fic of Valkyrie too, no idea what though, I just think she'd be fun to write about. 

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I had some minecraft ideas too, like for Hermitcraft, but once again I feel as if I can only write for Supernatural and sometimes Marvel for some reason. 

I have an idea that I do return back to go quite frequently, where it's Phil, Kristin, Technoblade, Wilbur, and Tommy going to visit Phil's brother, Grian. In Hermitcraft season seven. That idea I've chipped away at for a while. I have a good intro but haven't worked out a good plot. So it hasn't gone anywhere. 

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I've also had some fics for Wilbur's characters but they're all pretty depressing/dark so they usually get put on the backburners. 

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I wrote a Spider-Boo fic once, and I'd like to return to that idea again, especially because I had Aimsey in it, and I liked writing their dynamic. 

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Stranger Things is interesting to write for, I haven't tried anything complicated yet, just different dynamics and characters, but they're really fun to explore. I really enjoyed writing Lumax, I owe them a happier fic. 

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

I think that's all my thoughts for now. I mostly just talked about my fic ideas and what I want to write eventually. I just have so many ideas and not enough time to write them all. This was a nice break and refresher for me. I miss talking about fandom things. Alrighty, good night! I hope you all have a restful sleep yourself.

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Little Kevin

by queenscream | art by Jenniferb

Castiel has a normal life as a normal Alpha. He works his job and pays his taxes... does what he thinks is right. One night, when a three year old pup is left on his door step with just a note, some belongings and a backpack, his whole world is turned upside down. He learns what it means to actually be an Alpha: to lead and protect. When Kevin becomes a little too much for him to handle alone, he enlists  the help of a nanny from an omega agency: one Dean Winchester. Rougher around the edges than any omega he's met before, Castiel finds that these two combined change his world more than he could ever imagine.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings & Tags: Canon Typical Violence, A/B/O Dynamics, Blood, Intense Graphic Violence, Minor Character Death, Abandonment Issues, Separation Anxiety, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bite, Alpha Castiel, Omega Dean Winchester, Kid fic, Family Bonding, Fluff, Hurt and Comfort, Angst

POSTING AUGUST 23, 2022

Check under the cut for an excerpt

Excerpt:

Cas tried everything he could think of, honestly. He tried playing music. That, however, just made it seem like a more upbeat tantrum. There was no way he was offering pie right now but his will certainly wanted to cave a few times. However, he kept his composure and would just rub Kevin’s back when he could or talk to him in gentle tones, just trying to wait this out. In reality, it was probably only fifteen minutes. In tantrum minutes, that was forever though. The noise of Kevin crying was overlaid by the sound of a car pulling up outside and… rock music? Cas went to the door and when he opened it, he saw a rather gorgeous man walking up the driveway.

He took his sunglasses and set Cas with green eyes that sparkled in the setting sunlight. The smell of cherry pie wafted around him and Cas felt every muscle in his body start to wake up. The man was in some faded jeans, boots and a flannel overshirt. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was expecting someone… less well built, he’d be a bit more impressed.

“Are… you the nanny?” Cas asked and the sounds of Kevin’s cries drifted out of the house.

“Sorry I ain’t Mary Poppins. I am, however, Dean Winchester. And from the sounds of it, I’m here to save the day.” He gave this… smug little grin that normally would’ve gotten under Cas’ skin. Not with him though.

“Uh… well let me introduce you to Kevin.” He smiled before he turned and walked into the house, leading Dean deeper into the house.

When they reach the den, Kevin had calmed down to sniffles. Cas offered him a small smile and then sat down beside him on the couch.

“This is Dean.” Cas explained softly. “He’s going to be helping us.”

Dean grinned. “Hi, buddy.”

[jingerhead]

Hi!! So for prompt ideas I’ve always wanted to know more about Neil’s time on the run, and how some habits might have translated to his daily life with the Foxes. You can’t tell me he doesn’t just do weird shit sometimes based on the conditioning his mom drilled into him for years. Oh and also the Foxes general reaction to these things. Thanks!!!

Ooooooo I really like this one! So my brain goes straight to some basics, like sleeping habits we know he has with an arm under the pillow and stuff. Maybe he hoards food, it takes him a long time to get more things than he can carry, checks for exits and keeps his body angled so he can get to them instead of being backed into a corner or something.

But listen imagine the possibilities of Neil knowing how to do parkour.

He can run and climb buildings and get to any exit he needs to, so he's super good at scaling walls and has a good eye for spotting unlocked doors and windows. He's flexible, can flip and roll at just the right moments, and he does it so effortlessly. And this is something I've been thinking of forever:

Wymack was furiously talking on the phone, but it sounded like it was more to himself than anyone on the other end. The rest of the foxes were talking quietly to each other, all with different levels of worry. Kevin seemed to have the most, probably because the keys to the bus were locked in an office. Andrew would offer to help, but he'd much rather not have to go to the game that night, so instead he stuck near his people and played with a cigarette box.

"Stop it," Kevin finally hissed. "This is serious."

Andrew only rattled the box more in response, which finally got Kevin to walk away from him. He decided to look at Neil to pass the time, who was staring up at the office building with an intense look. He didn't seem worried, more like he was glaring angrily at the second story window that might be the place the keys to the bus were.

"Well, this is great," Wymack said with a fake grin as he turned towards the team, clapping his hands once. "Nobody can get here until ten."

"Four hours?" Dan and Kevin asked, sounding equally appalled.

"Yup! Someone decided to take a surprise vacation."

If they couldn't get the keys until ten, then they wouldn't be able to get to the game on time. Oh, the horror, Andrew thought, glancing back at Neil, who finally turned back around. "The second story window is unlocked," he seemed to report.

Wymack raised one eyebrow. "And?"

"I can climb up the gutter," Neil said, pointing, "and get to the window."

Everyone was quiet as they listened. Andrew wanted to watch Neil do it, because even if he fell flat on his ass it would be entertaining. Wymack clearly debated for a moment before finally asking, "Without breaking anything?"

"Yes."

"Then do it."

Neil didn't hesitate: he turned and ran towards the building with long strides, hands gripping the gutter to pull himself up until his feet found something to stand on - by his toes Andrew was pretty sure - and then Neil swiftly opened the window and rolled inside. Andrew hated his memory most of the time, but not now, when he could replay Neil scaling a wall like it was nothing over and over again.

A moment later, the front door opened. Neil nodded inside, and Wymack followed him in. Everyone seemed stunned to silence, only asking questions that went unanswered after the two came back out of the building. Next thing Andrew knew, they were on the bus to the game. "Haven't you ever heard of not reminding the teacher there's homework due, Neil?" he asked as the bus pulled away from campus. Neil just rolled his eyes and didn't bother arguing. Andrew held his head up with one hand and stared back at Neil from his seat. "Where'd you learn to do that, Rabbit?"

"Had to learn a lot of things," Neil said back vaguely.

"Hm," Andrew hummed, letting the matter go for now.

Tell me a prompt or something you wish I'd write :)

[the-chicken-or-the-banana]

andreil and goodbye kisses (pt 2) ft. kevin

you can find part 1 here :) you probs need to read that to understand this one!

part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

neil tries to kiss andrew out of sight of the other foxes, but it's not always easy

matt knows already, of course, about neil's newfound way of saying goodbye

but keeping the others away proves to be slightly... impossible

kevin catches them first

the three of them are at night practice, but andrew was refusing to participate

"this is homophobia, you can't force me to play, kevin"

"what the fu-"

anyway. so neil and kevin are practicing. they do their thing

(andrew is most definitely not staring at neil's shorts, of course not surely he has more self-control than that)

(spoiler alert: he does not, it turns out, have that much self-control)

about an hour in, kevin and neil go on a short water break because hydration

neil jogs up to the bleachers where andrew is sitting and quietly speaks to him, out of kevin's sight

kevin leans against the wall of the court, drinking water and scrolling through his East Asian Studies group chat (no Jackson, the Chinese were not "blazing it" during the Opium Crisis)

he gets so caught up in his rant that he realizes the time is now 10 minutes after their break was supposed to end

and that's certainly unusual isn't it? because neil is just as obsessed with exy as kevin is, and it's really weird that he hasn't come to tell kevin to start practice again, oh god what if something's wrong, what if kevin wasn't paying enough attention and something bad happened shit shit SHIT

so kevin runs over to the bleachers where he remembers andrew and neil usually sit and finds... them in a very heated make-out session

and yes, kevin can admit that he feels some relief that everything's okay. it's mostly just annoyance though. what did he ever do to be cursed to see this much PDA from his roommates?

"ahem. neil. josten. get off of andrew's lap right now, we're supposed to be practicing"

neil quickly twists around at kevin's voice, nearly toppling off of andrew. he regards kevin with a sheepish look

"ah right yes i just got a bit, um, distracted"

"evidently"

so kevin thinks neil will go about disentangling himself and starts to turn away

but of course, neil lives to surprise him

instead of getting off of andrew immediately he leans in once more

kevin is resigning himself to have to physically break the two apart at this point

but instead of going in for another long kiss, neil brushes his lips on andrew's nose and gives him a softer smile than kevin is used to seeing on the striker's face

kevin cannot believe his eyes

but the pink on andrew's cheeks is certainly real. so he couldn't have imagined that

quite frankly, kevin doesn't think he has the brain capacity to come with something like that in the first place

but he doesn't say anything. yet. he and neil practice as usual, and after some cool-down stretches and a quick shower, andrew drives the three of them back to the tower

andrew shoves neil into the their room and emerges again outside to where kevin is waiting

"spit it out day, why are you acting weird?"

"nothing really. you're just... a lot softer these days. with neil at least"

"what, do you want me to start kissing you too? i thought it was easier to remain heterosexual"

kevin rolls his eyes at this

"shut up. ugh. i guess i'm just glad he's making you a bit happier"

andrew gives him an appraising look (it's not as intense as he thinks it is considering the height different but kevin decides not to bring that up)

"and if i told you i'm never happy? that i may never be happy?"

kevin shrugs. "then i'll be glad that he's helping you feel safe enough to tell me that"

andrew is quiet for a moment. then—

"don't go around giving josten all the credit for that. he already has a big enough ego"

andrew turns on his heel and walks into the bedroom, leaving kevin to realize what andrew just implied

kevin lets himself smile for a moment. no matter what he says, he really is happy for his friends. even if what he saw today was horribly sappy

he goes to bed with the knowledge that andrew and neil are in good hands with each other

(but really, he's already drafting plans on banning PDA in the court because he desperately does not want to walk in on neil and andrew again)

[kevindayscrown]

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Part 13

Stay

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Head over to the directory to find the previous parts.

When the two of them managed to pull away from each other, Kevin decided it was time to let Neil and Andrew know that he would take a bit longer to go find them.

He pulled out his cellphone from his pocket, only to see that Neil had already texted him;

‘Find something to do with yourself in Atlanta for tonight.’

Kevin stared down at it for a while, not sure what to do with it; was he supposed to ask Eric if he could spend the night here? The semester started in two days which meant that they’d both have to go back to Palmetto the next day. It would be only for a night but Kevin wasn’t so sure how he felt about it.

He was even more surprised that Neil had managed to convince Andrew to leave Kevin behind in the first place. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time Andrew agreed to something just because ‘Neil asked’.

“Dinner is served. Ma says you are more than welcome to stay and eat with us,” Eric said, his hand finding its place on Kevin’s lower back. It took some will on Kevin’s part to not pull away and welcome the touch instead.

How was he going to ask such favor from Eric? Maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe he could call Neil and yell at him until they would turn the car around and come pick him up again.

“Yes, dinner would be nice,” he finally said, deciding to think about that later as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

The two of them headed downstairs, where Riley was helping Hien set up the table. Apparently, they’d already decided on their own that Kevin was going to stay for dinner.

Kevin wasn’t sure if any of this was a good idea, but it was too late to back down, turn around and leave. Instead, he pulled up a chair and sat down. Eric took a seat next to him and flashed him a smile that he couldn’t help but return, even in a passing moment.

The food served in front of them was a dish Kevin didn’t recognize, but could guess from Eric’s lit up expression that it must be one of those traditional ones that he’d told Kevin he favored.

Kevin never did well with new flavors. He’d already started to calculate potential calorie intake and how much he would have to work out to make up for it when Eric reached and put his hand on his knee under the table.

“If you want to have something else, I’m sure Ma wouldn’t mind it,” he said. Kevin wasn’t sure how he noticed or if he’d already put the pieces together from previous interactions of Kevin’s with food, but the striker wasn’t very willing to be rude to Hien and her attempts to welcome Kevin.

“No. It’s fine,” he said firmly, picking up a fork and starting to eat when everyone was seated. He could tell that Riley, seated across from him, was already dying to say something, held back only by Eric’s warning gaze.

Kevin let out a scoff at that, counting down the moments until Riley finally spoke;

“So… are you guys finally dating again?” They asked with a toothy grin. Kevin shifted a bit in his chair at the same time Eric coughed.

Where they dating? Kevin supposed they were. He wasn’t sure what that entailed. His only dating experience was not exactly an example he should be looking up to. However, if Eric had certain expectations from Kevin, he would probably be disappointed.

“Yes, we are,” Kevin finally said, taking both Eric and Riley by surprise. He didn’t elaborate though as he picked up the fork and brought it in his mouth slowly.

“That’s awesome! Oh wait- does that mean I’m third-wheeling? Are tonight’s plans cancelled?” The question was clearly directed at Eric, who seemed to hesitate as he turned to look at Kevin.

“Are you leaving after this? How did you even get here in the first place?” He asked. Kevin realized then that he could no longer stall making a decision.

“With Andrew and Neil. They left. They are probably on the way to Palmetto by now,” he said, sounding bitter about the fact that, once again, Neil was getting in someone’s business, thinking it was actually going to help.

“Wait- where are you staying then?” Riley asked but then their eyes lit up. They glanced between Kevin and Eric and then let out a mischievous hum.

“I was gonna sleep over here but I just remembered I have to keep my grandma company tonight. I’m sure Kevin will be comfortable on the spare mattress,” they said, looking very satisfied with themselves.

Eric glanced at Kevin, almost with a hopeful expression. Kevin wasn’t usually one to fall for such things, but Eric had already done a lot for him. Some small part of him also wanted to stay. To spend a little more private time with him before they got back to campus.

“Alright,” he said with a small nod, feeling Eric relax by his side for a moment. Riley grinned as they watched them and then stood up to pick up the plates. Kevin had enough common courtesy to decide and help, seeing as the family had already done a lot for him, and they would apparently let him spend the night here. Despite Wei’s persistence to let them handle it, Kevin picked up some of the plates and followed Riley in the kitchen.

“I’m glad you worked things out with Eric,” they eventually said as Kevin handed them plates one by one for them to wash. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but apparently, he didn’t really have to say anything because Riley just kept talking.

“He’s been crushing on you forever. Seriously, it was hard to hear him talk about how much he ‘hated’ you-,” they had to put the plate down and do the air quotes with soapy fingers, “- when it was just so obvious.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow as he listened, leaning up against the counter, watching Riley as they kept washing the dishes, like they hadn’t just dropped a bomb and waited for it to explode.

It made Kevin halt and think for a moment. Eric had never really been affectionate before. If anything, Kevin had earned a fair share of bruises from fights they’d gotten in. He couldn’t imagine the goaltender actually liking him in any way during that time.

“What has Eric said about me?” He eventually asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Riley realized at that moment that they had spoken too much and hesitated as they kept rubbing the glass to get rid of the stains on it. Eventually, they shrugged and put on a small innocent-like smile.

“I guess you’ll have to convince Eric to tell you himself.”

Kevin wasn’t able to extract any further information after that. Riley eventually left after biding the whole family goodnight. Hien and Wei let Kevin get settled after making sure he had everything he needed. Eric had set up the mattress Riley had mentioned by his bed and even offered to take the mattress himself to let Kevin sleep on the bed.

“It’s fine,” Kevin said as he sat down and removed his shoes. The two remained silent for a long moment before Eric finally spoke:

“So. We are dating. Officially,” he said, as if still being unable to believe it.

Kevin himself was hesitant but he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was attracted to a guy. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but he’d rather not think too hard on labels right then. People had been labelling him his entire life already.

“Yes. We are.”

Eric smiled at that and then slowly leaned down from the bed to reach the same height as Kevin. Kevin met him halfway and brought his hand to Eric’s cheek as their lips touched.

“Alright then, boyfriend,” Eric hummed with a soft chuckle that had Kevin’s heart skip a few beats, “You can’t back out from this one now. You have no idea what you are getting yourself into.”

Judging from their previously fake relationship, Kevin knew exactly what he was getting into. He finally had someone who could tolerate him without dismissing him, someone who was helping him see things the way they were.

“Really, Jiang?” He finally asked as he gripped the other’s collar of his shirt and pulled him down, closer to his face. Eric watched him intensely, and Kevin could see his throat bob as he gulped.

“I think that now you are in my domain.” Kevin finally whispered before pulling Eric in for another kiss.

[julieloveupstead]

"-Are you jealous?

- Me, not at all." - Jay Undercover part 3, Upstead 8x15

Description: How will Hailey react to the fact that Jay will have to go subbing at the club? Hailey is not one for jealous women, but is she really?

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

- Do you really have to go there? - I tried to sound natural and understand Voight's decision to divide the task during today's action even though it didn't seem dangerous or very complicated, but I still don't like it. Aside from the fact that Darrell son of Deputy Superintendent Samatha Miller appears out of nowhere with information about one of the dealers and is now our CI, which messes up his paperwork, it's Jay who's doing the black work as usual.

- To this club? - Jay sat down on my desk as usual, I leaned against the chair I was sitting on to see him more clearly and nodded. We were alone in the room, as Kim was probably in the locker room, Adam and Kevin downstairs with our newly CI, and Voight disappeared somewhere right after we discussed the details, so we were free to chat. - Well, you know, there's no compulsion, but you know, with Miller on the case, I don't think it's right to say no, and besides, it's going to be quick, and then we can go somewhere to eat. - He smiled as he usually does and that made my knees soften, like probably all women. And it's this thought that I can't get over, because after all Jay Halstead will be alone in this club with no cover except for Adam and Kevin who will be sitting in the van but that doesn't change anything because still Jay will be alone with so many women who I'm sure will be very scantily dressed. Damn.

- Yeah you're right - I said and got up. I went to the breakroom to make myself a coffee or whatever to make these stupid visions popping up in my head disappear. To be honest, I've never felt as piritic as I do now.

- Hailey, are you okay? - Jay stood behind me as I started making coffee for both of us.

- Yes - I replied without even looking at him. It's not that I'm angry or anything I just feel too many emotions at once and as usual I prefer to stay in my bubble alone and besides it's ridiculous that I feel jealous, I've never been jealous of any of my former boyfriends and then Jay Alexander Halstead appears and everything in her life changes by 180%. Feelings awaken in her which she didn't even know existed or which I feel more intensely than before I met this detective.

- Honey, I can see - he touched my shoulder gently, at which I closed my eyes. It still surprises me how my body reacts to even the slightest touch from him, this is another thing that hasn't happened before.

- Nothing, just," I sighed. I didn't know how to put into words what was swirling around in my head. After all, if Jay finds out that I'm jealous, he won't leave me alone and he'll remind me of it at every opportunity, and besides, my pride doesn't allow me to say it out loud.

- Hailey, I don't want to pressure you and if you don't want to tell me now okey, but I want you to know that I will always be there to listen to you even if it's bullshit to you because it won't be that way to me. - he said in a calm, tender voice. He put his arms around my back so that I could rest my back against his chest.

- I don't want you to go there, I know I am selfish, but I don't give a damn. - I said all in one breath and bit my lip nervously waiting for my boyfriend's reaction.

- Why? - he asked, and in his voice I didn't find any mocking, ridicule, just pure curiosity.

- First of all - I turned around and moved a little bit to look at him better. - This whole affair stinks to me from a distance, secondly, you are still doing the black job for everybody, I know that you are the highest rank (except for me, of course) - at the last comment we both laughed - and don't you think that going to a night club is not a little demanding for such a good policeman - I said in a relatively neutral voice. I saw Jay biting his lip and trying to remain serious, but there were funny flares sparking in his eyes. I knew he wouldn't take me seriously. I shouldn't say anything.

- Hey wait, give me a chance to say something, please - seeing my hand and wanting to leave he grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers together. - First of all you are right, there is something wrong in this case, but it is worth checking, especially that it is about Miller's son, and secondly as for me doing the black job, well no one solves cases as well and reliably as I do the wonderful, excellent, handsome and eloquent detective - he winked at me at the last comment, which made me laugh. And the fact, nobody is as good as him, you have to admit he is right about that. - And thirdly, can you imagine Adam walking into that club? Because I don't - right I can already see Adam burning his cover because some girl has recognised him, or something will upset him quickly or he's had too much to drink. That's how Adam totally fits in. - And Kevin is already upset that we have to use badges to help his son higher up anyway. You know how touchy Kev is about this - that's right too. I understand Kev and I respect him a lot for his views and he is one of my best friends apart from Jay of course, Kev is the closest to me out of the whole team and I hope there is a promotion for him in the near future because he deserves it very much. - And fourthly I know you too well Honey to guess that's not the main reason, am I right? - Jay raised one eyebrow and tilted his head with a small smile, knowing he was right. Damn, he saw through me, on the other hand it doesn't surprise me too much. He knows me too well, he can read me like an open book. Sometimes just one look and he knows what ails me, what's wrong with me and vice versa. We know each other like horses and maybe that is why we are such good partners at work and in private life. Neither of us has to make an effort to understand the other, which for me is a great help, because sometimes I find it very difficult to find the words and courage to confess something to him.

- Well," I began, releasing my hand and immediately felt a chill, but I ran it over my face to gather the right words. - What I mean is ... - I started talking nervously. I don't know why I'm nervous to tell Jay that I'm jealous, after all it is Jay. He won't laugh at me or say anything negative, so why can't I tell the truth? Well yes because your pride won't allow it I thought. And that you think it's childish, that you're jealous and the past has shown that nothing good comes out of jealousy.

- Hey, honey, what's going on? It's me after all - he put his hands on my shoulders and sent me a reassuring smile.

- Okay - I took a deep breath. Once a goat's death. - When I think that in this club there will be so many half-naked women who will devour you with their eyes it makes me squirm. I'm sorry, I know it's childish of me and that I shouldn't feel jealous and - Jay's lips sawed into mine interrupting my speech.

- Honey, don't cry - he put his hands on my cheeks and wiped away the tears with his fingers. I didn't even know I was crying and I didn't know why. - First of all it's not childish of you and you have all the right to be jealous because it's an emotion and like any other emotion it's necessary and completely normal. It took me a long time to get to this point, but now I know that the emotions we feel should never be apologised for, ok. - He kissed me on the cheek to cheer me up a bit. - Hailey - he lifted my hand and placed it over his heart - For the four years since you walked into this bank, this has belonged to you and no one else, Angel, and no matter how hard any woman tries or how good she looks she can't match you and how I feel about you. - He squeezed my hand and pulled me to him. It was hard for me to hold back the tears that started running down my cheeks. I don't think I'll ever get used to Jay's words. I still can't believe that he a handsome, wonderful man with such a huge and pure heart chose me a girl with problems who messed up a lot of things, with a lot of demons that she is afraid to fish out and let's not hide with average looks. Jay could have anyone so why me? It's a question that's been swirling around in my head all the time, but I've never dared to ask him and I doubt I ever will. - I love you so much. Hailey you are the best thing that ever happened to me - he pulled away from me so he could look at me. He wiped away my tears again - You are the only person I think about when I get up and when I go to bed and even in my sleep. - He kissed me on the forehead and I cuddled into him. How this man can make me fall in love with him all over again and when I think that it is impossible to love someone more, it turns out that it is possible.

- Okay you can go to that club - I said which made Jay laugh. and also me. - Just be careful, because when you get home there will be a surprise waiting for you - I said pulling away from Jay with a sly smile that foreshadowed the coming night, or day in fact. Jay bent down to kiss me on the lips and looked at me. I could see in his eyes that he was looking forward to the end of today's affair as much as I was.

- Every day when I wake up and look at you I can't believe that life has given me such an unusual and lovely surprise - he whispered against my lips and kissed me again. - Angel how much I love the prospect of kissing you and holding you in my arms unfortunately we have to stop this because it is time for me - he said pulling his lips away from mine.

- I know - I didn't mean to, but I pulled away from my boyfriend. Jay kissed the top of my head one last time and walked towards the door, at which he still stood and turned towards me with a big smile, which I immediately reciprocated.

- By the way, it's sweet that you're jealous.

- I knew you would reproach me for it - I tried to be serious, but the giggle that escaped my lips betrayed me.

- I know you love me anyway - he said also laughing. I shook my head at the idiot who disappeared a moment later. He's right I love him no matter what.

As I watched Jay leave the room I was reminded of a quote I once read:

"Love. Two people meet by chance, and it turns out they've been waiting for each other their whole lives."

I didn't know I would ever say that quote applied to my real life until I met Jay

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Queen of Underland: Izzy

CW: Panic attack, child of recovering adult whumpee, anger as trauma response, referenced noncon kissing and touching (nonsexual), childhood bullying, referenced past domestic and child abuse, some gendered and ableist insults (kid to kid and nothing too intense - just fair warning)

Izzy, at nine years old, has been free with her family for almost five years now, and her mother has been in prison on a life sentence for two. With attention, affection, and therapy, she has blossomed into a quiet kid who nearly always has her nose in a book.

When two classmates try to put her in the center of a storm, Izzy finds something inside herself that she has pushed down for so long she had nearly forgotten she ever had it.

Izzy finds her father’s anger.

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with permission.

---

Izzy sits at her desk, perfectly still, reading a book while the teacher’s out of the room speaking with another teacher in low voices, just in the hallway. The sun shines in the windows that line the wall, lighting the pages of her book, and one of Izzy’s hands rubs repeatedly over the seam down the side of her uniform skirt, the only movement she makes beyond her eyes.

Around her, the others are whispering, passing notes and giggling (except for Noah, who has his own book open, and Jack, who is drawing his story about giant killer robots in a notebook, and Sarah, Jack’s twin sister who is trying to build a tower of pencils and paper), but Izzy barely notices them.

When the teacher comes back in, Izzy will not be whispering, or giggling, or doing anything that might bother her. When the teacher comes back, Izzy will be quiet, and good, and put her book back into her desk and look up with her hands in her lap. She’s the quietest kid in class, she heard the teacher say so.

At home, she’s not always quiet anymore, but at school she still holds a balance, protecting herself and keeping herself safe in the best and truest way she knows - by simply being exactly what the adults need her to be, and keeping all her real feelings and thoughts inside her head.

Still, while the teacher’s out of the room, she takes a few minutes to read while she has the chance. Her heart beats cold and heavy in her chest as she scans over the words on the page, biting down on her lower lip, worrying at a bit of chapped skin. Her left hand settles over the soft texture of pages nearly yellowed with time spent in the school library being held by hundreds of small hands. The fingers on her right hand feel over the seam of her skirt, right along the outside of her leg, again and again.

Fierce anxiety, and a little fear, swirl inside her for the characters that exist only in ink and her imagination.

Two Earthmen entered, but instead of advancing into the room, they placed themselves one on each side of the door, and bowed deeply. They were followed immediately by the last person whom anyone had expected or wished to see: the Lady of the Green Kirtle, the Queen of Underland. She stood dead still in the doorway, and they could see her eyes moving as she took in the whole situation—the three strangers, the silver chair destroyed, and the Prince free, with his sword in his hand.

“I think I like Karissa,” Henry Fitzgerald, who sits at her left, says to his best friend Kevin Magden - not to be confused with Kevin Michaelson, and didn’t the teacher sigh over that sometimes. He has to speak over and around Izzy’s head. 

“Like, like like her?” Kevin Magden asks, sounding half-horrified, half-fascinated. Izzy fights not to roll her eyes, and tries to focus back on her book, on the entrance of the Queen, on the Prince freed but faced with great danger.

The Queen of the Underland, the lady who held the Prince in the dark for ten whole years, that’s older than Izzy even is. Coming into the room to find the children and the Prince, and her having no control any longer. 

She turned very white; but Jill thought it was the sort of whiteness that comes over some people's faces not when they are frightened but when they are angry. For a moment the Witch fixed her eyes on the Prince, and there was murder in them. Then she seemed to change her mind.

“Run,” Izzy whispers, to the children, to Puddleglum the strange marsh creature, to the freed Prince. “Don’t talk to her, just run. Don’t listen to whatever she says, don’t.”

“What are you even saying, Izzy?” Kevin Magden says.

“She’s all in her book like always,” Henry Fitzgerald says, shrugging. He makes some sort of gesture - Izzy doesn’t look up to see it - and the two of them laugh. She doesn’t care about that. The story is far, far more important than they are anyway. “Anyway, Kev, I like-... yeah, I think I like like her. I’m gonna tell her at break.”

“Gross,” Kevin says, but he sounds fascinated. “What if she says she doesn’t like-like you back?”

Henry shrugs again - Izzy can see the movement from the corner of her eye. “Dunno. Maybe kiss her.”

“Gross,” Kevin repeats, much more emphatically. 

Izzy tries to keep her mind on the page, but shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She closes her eyes briefly, thinking of the Queen of the Underland, standing in the doorway. She imagines her with very white skin and dark, long fingernails, wearing a long dress that brushes the earthen floor, making a soft swish-swish sound as she walks. In her mind, the Queen of the Underland has very bright blue eyes and lots of curly, dark brown hair that is threaded with silver down her back, wild and uncontrolled, like it can reach out and grab you and drag you into the dark with her.

She feels like the Queen is not a stranger to her, and not hard to picture at all. Try as she might, she can’t make the Queen in her imagination look like the description of the Queen in the book. She only ever looks one way - beautiful and wicked, deceptively soft, eyes brilliant and shining too bright when the Prince is in pain.

Will she hurt him, while the children have to stand and watch and can’t save him at all?

"Leave us," she said to the two Earthmen. "And let none disturb us till I call, on pain of death." The gnomes padded away obediently, and the Witch-queen shut and locked the door.

"How now, my lord Prince," she said. "Has your nightly fit not yet come upon you, or is it over so soon? Why stand you here unbound? Who are these aliens? And is it they who have destroyed the chair which was your only safety?"

Izzy can hear the Queen’s voice, musical lilt, simpering sweet and dangerous. Why are you leaving me? How dare you. Come back here, Jax, you can’t leave, you’re mine. 

Kevin and Henry are still talking, but Izzy doesn’t hear them any longer. She’s lost in the panic rising inside of her. Run, she thinks, in a scream, a shout in her mind. It isn’t that she doesn’t understand it’s just a book, but that she is still scared, frightened for the prince whose father had grown older while he was gone, whose family must have missed him so much. She is frightened for the children who do not understand the witch or how to fight her. She’s frightened even for Puddleglum, who only wants to help, to do the right thing. Don’t talk to her, don’t give her the chance, just run. She’ll make you hers again. She swallows - it feels like her heart beats itself right up into her throat, like she is swallowing around it - and keeps reading.

Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

“I’ll kiss her even if she doesn’t like me back, anyway.”

Izzy’s breath catches, and she blinks, feeling like she has been pulled out of a spell herself. She looks up, glancing sidelong at Henry, who isn’t looking at her at all, just talking to Kevin. “Hen-... Henry-... what did you say?”

“None of your business,” Henry replies, voice harsh and loud enough to get some of the others to look over at them, and Izzy’s shoulders creep up towards her chin, face burning red. She hates when everyone looks at her, hates it more than anything. Henry looks back at Kevin. “At break, I will. I’ll tell her, and I’ll kiss her, whether she wants to or not.”

Izzy looks back down, but the words on the page run together, she can’t see them any longer, they’re just squiggles, meaningless little lines. What I want just matters more, whispers a nightmare she can never quite feel woken up from. She tries, she really does, to focus again on the book but she sees secondly, she took out a musical instrument- 

Izzy slams the little paperback shut, sticks it back in her desk, and says in a thin voice, “You can’t do that if someone doesn’t want you to, it’s wrong.”

“It’s not a big deal, Izzy, geez.” Kevin on her other side speaks up now, and between them she feels like she’s being battered, tossed on a sea, shoved down, locked in the dark. Izzy stares down at her desk, then, letting her eyes lose focus on the wavy colors in the polished wood. Light brown, almost auburn, and darker brown, almost a chocolate color, very like the hair on Izzy’s own head, clipped short and spiky.

Very very like the wavy, thick curls that ran down her mother’s back, that smothered Izzy in the smell of her shampoo and perfume. 

“It is a big deal,” Izzy whispers. “It’s wrong, to make someone kiss you. It’s wrong. It-... it hurts them. It matters what they want, too.”

“Ugh. It's just a kiss. You’re bonkers, you know that?" Henry leans over, almost in her space, and Izzy sits back as far as she can until she presses her back hard into her chair, enough to hurt. “Absolutely mad.” 

“No, I’m not,” Izzy mumbles, but panic twists even worse inside her. Is she? Her mom is. Isn’t she? Don’t you have to be, to be evil? Dr. Marty says no, that those two things are totally separate and people are just bad at understanding that people can be really, really, really bad and still be sane - that bad people almost always are - and Dr. Marty knows everything about crazy and not-crazy, that’s his whole job, and she’s not like her mother anyway, she’s not. 

“Are so,” Henry taunts, falling easily into the familiar cadence of mockery, and Izzy’s face burns brighter and hotter as the room begins to fall quiet, other conversations falling away as the others realize there might be some entertainment now. Her breath comes faster, and she closes her hands into fists at her side, fighting to control the way the fear and a new rise of anger start to twist around inside her stomach, making it flip, making her feel sick. “You’re bonkers for sure, Izzy Gallagher.”

“I-I’m not. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not! It’s not right to kiss people who you don’t know if they want to or not! It’s not!”

The room feels suddenly too small, and too big - she can’t escape Henry’s bean-breath and she can’t run far enough to get to the door, she can’t run at all. Some small voice inside her demands she stay still, shut her mouth, never talk again. She should have just finished her book, seen how the Prince would escape the Queen of the Underland, seen if the children help him or just weigh him down, one more bit of stone tying him to Underland and maybe he wishes he could just leave them behind, if they bother him, if they’re no good-

“Ewwwww, who would want to kiss Izzy?” A girl near her wrinkles her nose - Lindsey Smith, Izzy’s brain supplies, in an airless dizzy spin of details that aren’t important but she can’t stop circling around. “She looks like a boy.”

“Hey, back off.” Izzy, surprised, glances over her shoulder to find Noah Hawkins looking up from his own book, eyes narrowed. “Izzy’s hair is cool, and it’s cooler than yours anyway, Lindsey-kins. You just wish you looked as good as she does.”

“Shut up! You just say that because you’re a boy, of course you think boy hair looks cool.” Lindsey sticks her tongue out, crossing her arms in front of herself. She has big poofy hair like Izzy’s would be if she didn’t have her dad cut it so short, held back with a clip. Hers is red, though.

“There’s no such thing,” Sarah says from over by the window. “As boy or girl hair, I mean. There’s no such thing. It’s all just hair. Izzy’s hair does look cool. You all should leave it alone, Mrs. Brent is going to be back inside any second and we’ll all get in trouble if there’s fighting.”

“Yeah, Izzy,” Henry hisses at her, leaning in close. Too close. She forgets how to breathe. “Stop causing trouble, Izzy.”

“I’m not,” Izzy whispers. Her face feels like it might light on fire. Her fingernails dig into her palms, until she feels flashes of pain, creating crescents that could take hours to fully fade if she did it hard enough. “I was-... I was just-”

“Just butting in where you don’t belong,” Henry finishes for her. “It’s not your business.”

“It’s-... but, but I just-” Her voice is fading fast, airy and breathless, barely a whisper. Quiet little Izzy Gallagher, who never stands up for herself, who lets everyone talk to her like this, who never says a word she isn’t asked to say. Her fear batters her with wings inside her chest, but beneath it is something else entirely, trying to rise up and take over her mind and mouth. Anger. She and Dr. Marty had talked about it, about how it was a normal feeling to feel, but every swell of it within her was met by the rising tide of fear in response.

She never lets herself be angry. That would make her like her mother, who was angry so much, and she’s not like that, she’s not. 

She doesn’t think, in the moment, that her mother isn’t the only parent who knows how to be angry.

The thoughts are not conscious. They aren’t driven by any kind of logic, they loop and swirl around each other. They flash bright like light in the back of her mind. She thinks about the story, the book inside her desk, the way the Prince fell upon the silver chair, how he swung his sword in dim light. 

She thinks about the prince walking out the hotel doors with a baby in one arm and a little girl on his hip, a backpack heavy against his back, into the sunlight outside. She can remember the way he breathed quick and shallow against her hair, the racing of his heart as he asked her to be very quiet, and very brave. She didn’t know he was scared, he didn’t say it, he was just the Prince, shining in the sunlight, asking for directions to the train station and going in a suit to court later and the silver gave way before the sword’s edge like string, and in a moment a few twisted fragments, shining on the floor, were all that was left of the chair. 

“But-but-but-but, I just-” Henry is still going, and Izzy’s eyes burn as hot as her face, lips pulling back from her teeth in a grimace like a snarl. “Just shut up, Izzy Gallagher, nobody cares what you think.”

“Don’t be a dick, I care,” Noah says, from the back of the room, his voice getting louder, now. Other students whoop and go ooooh, Noah likes Izzy, but Noah ignores them, and he doesn’t turn even a little bit red. “Izzy hasn’t done anything wrong to you.” She barely knows Noah, he’s in her class but they don’t talk or anything. This is the first time he’s done more than help her with a math problem, this is the first time she’s heard him even talk in class without the teacher calling on him.

But it feels good to have somebody else stand up for her. 

“She’s butting in!” Henry protests, hands up like he’s the innocent one. “Kevin and I were just talking-”

“About kissing Karissa Bellweather!” Izzy half-shouts. “From the other class! You were talking about kissing someone even if she doesn’t want to! You said you would even if she said no! That’s not right!”

“Ew,” Someone says, Izzy doesn’t know who. Her blood is rushing in her ears almost too loud to hear. “Do you like-like Karissa Bellweather, Henry?”

“No! I don’t!” Henry looks stricken. He hadn’t expected her to just say it out loud like that to everybody. “Gallagher’s lying! She’s a liar!”

“I’m not! I’m not a fucking liar!” Her voice is too loud and she claps her hands over her mouth. Don’t cry, she thinks to herself, and her own thought-voice twists into her mother’s sharper edges. Her palms ache and she wonders if her nails have broken skin, but the wonder is faint, and faded. She feels a hand pressed against the back of her neck, the Queen of the Underland’s voice beside her ear. Don’t cry, Bella. You’re so ugly when you cry. Jax, get her out of my sight. 

“Fuck off,” Izzy says, voice trembling. She isn’t really talking to Henry, not anymore. “Leave-... leave me alone.”

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, huh? Gonna throw some punches?” Kevin is too close on the other side, now. They’re both too close. Izzy’s heart beats all out of time, and when she goes to breathe, it… it doesn’t work. Her breath is stuck in her throat, halfway down. The air just… sits there, and she can’t hitch it in or exhale it. It feels like her throat is closing up, she’ll choke on nothing, black out and fall down. “Bonkers Izzy Gallagher, gonna fight us, are you?”

“I-I could-” Her voice is a whimper, and Izzy closes her eyes. 

“Could not,” Henry mocks, from his side of her. “You’re weak as a puppy. What are you gonna do?”

“Stop-... stop you from talking anymore,” Izzy says, and pushes her chair back with a loud scrape, getting to her feet. She should tell Dr. Marty about the book, she thinks, about the Queen of the Underland. She should tell her father about the Prince tied to the chair, and how he chopped the chair to bits, and she should tell them all about it, nice and safe and quiet at home, and not do what she’s afraid she’s going to do instead.

“How, gonna use something you learned from your mam in prison?” Henry asks, and Izzy remembers, all at once, how to breathe - but it’s all poison. She gulps in air, fear sparking up, her nerves feel like a hundred thousand tiny lightning strikes. She wants to run but she’s at school and there isn’t anywhere to go. 

“Wh-what?”

“My dad says your mam’s famous in the States for being in prison,” Henry says, leaping on this new tactic as the blood drains from Izzy’s face. He’s like animals on the nature shows that James likes to watch at home with their snack, circling a calf all alone. She’s a wounded baby calf, she’s weighing the herd down, she’s not strong or brave enough, she never was. “Did she teach you how to prison-fight? Ooooh, did she show you how to make a-” He jabs at the air, fist closed empty around an imaginary knife. “A prison-blade?”

“Shiv,” Kevin supplies helpfully.

“Right, that. Did your mam show you how to shank someone?”

“I don’t-... I don’t talk to my mom,” Izzy says, half-strangled by her own words. Her head is spinning. Her backpack is so far away. “We don’t-... we don’t have contact-... she doesn’t talk to me, isn’t allowed-”

“Oh, ew.” Henry sits back, and his face lights up with the simple cruelty of wounding someone who looks unable to fight back, of regaining his own stability and distracting everyone from his embarrassment by bringing up Izzy’s shame instead. “Are you so awful even your mam doesn’t want to talk to you?”

No. She doesn’t. Izzy’s lip trembles. She can’t bring herself to try and respond. She doesn’t, she doesn’t want to know anything about me at all. The last thing my mom ever said to me was yelling at me not to look so scared all the time and Dad said she never asked about me when he talked to her during the trial she never asked she never-

“Hey, Henry,” Someone says. “This is super gross stuff to say, isn’t it?” Izzy can’t see anything but Henry’s face, everything else is white noise and his words ringing through her, settling too deeply inside, meeting her own thoughts that match them, sometimes, on hard days. She never asked about me, she doesn’t even care that I hate her. Your mam is supposed to care if you hate her. You’re so awful your mom doesn’t even care about you. Your mam is supposed to-

“Yeah, Henry. That’s too far, that’s really mean.”

“She can’t help who her mam is, Hen.”

“Yeah, it’s not like she went to the mam shop and picked a rubbish one.”

“My dad was away for a while, Iz, I get it. My mam says it doesn’t say anything about us. People make bad choices is all.”

“I haven’t even seen my dad since I was five, Izzy, it’s okay, don’t be sad.”

“Yeah, it’s okay, Izzy, don’t be sad, Henry’s just being awful.”

“Hey, she was awful first!”

“Go run up a pole, Henry. I like you, Izzy,” Sarah says, from the window, and moves in her direction. “Henry’s being a jerk, don’t listen to him. Don’t be sad. It’s okay.”

“I like you, too, you’re fun at break, you always have good ideas for games.” That’s Amira, using that certain kind of tone you use when you are trying to comfort an upset person, and Izzy feels some of the ice closing around her heart starting to warm up, to melt, to crack apart. 

Even Lindsey says, almost grudging, “Don’t be sad because of Henry, Izzy. He’s really mean sometimes.”

“I think you’re really cool,” Noah says, in a quieter voice. “Please don’t be sad. Want to play monsters at break?”

They don’t all hate her, they don’t. Someone puts a hand at her back, and she flinches, and they pull the hand away, but they don’t hate her for pulling away, they don’t hate her voice or her hair and they don’t hate her for speaking up, they don’t. 

Henry hasn’t given up, not yet. “Your mam’s in prison for being a shit to your dad, isn’t she?” 

Izzy doesn’t look at him, leaning down to pull the book out of her desk, trying to think. She can pull her backpack out and go the nurse, say she’s feeling sick, and maybe her dad will come get her and take her home. They can call Dr. Marty and she can tell him what happened and Dr. Marty will know what to tell her and her dad to work on for the next time. She can tell him that there were good things, too, like that Noah said he thinks she’s cool, and Amira likes her game ideas, and not everybody hates her because she has the wrong mom, and it’s going to be okay. 

It’s going to be okay.

“Henry, stop it,” She says, in a half-whisper. “Please stop.”

She can go to the nurse. Say she’s sick, it’s not a lie, her stomach is all twisted up in knots. It’ll be true, she’s not going to feel better. She has sweat on her forehead drying cold, making her shiver a little. It’s not a lie, being scared makes her sick, it’s a real sick, it’s not a lie. She gets sick a lot from being scared, Dr. Marty says it’s normal for kids who have anxiety, she has exercises to do, she can picture all her hurting thoughts and move them away, and… 

“That’s what my dad said.” Henry’s voice cuts in. “He said your mam’s a piece of fucking work and probably made your dad one, too-”

“Don’t talk about my dad!” She rounds on him, then, book clutched to her chest. “Don’t you dare, you don’t-... you don’t have any right! You don’t know what happened, you don’t know us, you don’t know anything! My dad is better than yours ever could be! And, and stronger, and braver, too!”

Izzy Gallagher, quiet as a mouse, teacher’s pet from sheer terrified inaction, who always sits still and listens carefully and takes direction so well and is just an absolute pleasure to have in class, Mr. Gallagher, an absolute pleasure, is shouting and doesn’t realize it until the words have left her mouth. 

She should stop, some part of her brain begs her to stop, but the anger is suddenly larger than the fear and she is a little girl with a sword. Where they came from, and what she and her father and her little brother have survived, is a silver chair she will hack to bits until all that’s left shines like jewelry when held up to the light.

Henry’s eyes widen, they are big saucers, and they are very bright and very blue.

“My dad is amazing.” She can’t stop shouting. She’s not even trying to stop any longer. “He lived through really bad stuff and he still got us away from it! Even though it would have been easier to go by himself and leave us, he didn’t, and my mom is evil, and I’m not, because you don’t have to be what your mom is and I’m not ever going to be like that, but you are evil, Henry Fitzgerald, and you don’t even have an excuse! You’re-... you’re mean for no reason, and I hope Karissa spits in your face and kicks you between your legs as hard as she fucking can! You are an asshole, Henry Fitzgerald, and you can go fuck yourself all the way home!”

“Isabella Gallagher!” Mrs. Brent’s voice is shocked, and the words die in Izzy’s throat, as she slowly turns to see the teacher standing in the doorway, staring at her like she’d grown three heads and all of them have fangs. 

Izzy feels like she has fangs, too. And claws, like she is a monster herself. She should be scared, or sad, or ashamed of herself, but all she feels is anger burning bright and hot and good in her veins, louder than fear. Angry feels safer than scared. She feels proud of herself, a feeling so unfamiliar it seems like it must be someone else’s. Sarah, close to her now, whispers, go Izzy, in a soft impressed voice, and Izzy feels her eyes burn again, more than before, but for a different reason. 

They don’t hate her, and Henry isn’t saying bad things about her dad any longer, because of her. They don’t hate her.

“You might be even cooler now,” Amira says, and the teacher shushes all of them and points Izzy out, telling her to go see the Head Teacher. Any other Izzy would slink out with her shoulders hunched, full of fear, but this Izzy feels the buzz of standing up for herself running through her and warming all the cold, chasing the heavy hand on her neck away. This Izzy walks with her chin up and her shoulders back.

Some of the warm feeling goes away when the Head Teacher calls her dad to come get her, and says in her stern hard voice that Izzy was yelling and cursing at another student. The Head Teacher doesn’t say that she had a reason, and makes it sound like Izzy just stood up and started cursing for no reason at all. That’s… that’s not fair. Grown-ups always do that, make it seem like kids just go off for no reason, and Izzy can’t hear what her dad says back to the Head Teacher, but a lot of the warm feeling goes away, then. Her heart feels cold and scared again.

What if he’s mad at her?

What if she can’t be sorry enough to fix it?

Izzy sits in a hard wooden chair that is shaped all wrong for kids and makes her legs hurt after a while, waiting for him to come get her with a racing heart, her book open in her lap. 

There’s some brown-y red smeared on the cover, drying. She made her palms bleed when she was scared and didn’t even notice. She’ll ask her dad to buy the school library a new one. She wants to keep this one for herself.

"I have come," said a deep voice behind them. They turned and saw the Lion himself, so bright and real and strong that everything else began at once to look pale and shadowy compared with him. And in less time than it takes to breathe Jill forgot about the dead King of Narnia and remembered only how she had made Eustace fall over the cliff, and how she had helped to muff nearly all the signs, and about all the snappings and quarrellings. And she wanted to say "I'm sorry" but she could not speak. Then the Lion drew them towards him with his eyes, and bent down and touched their pale faces with his tongue, and said:

"Think of that no more. I will not always be scolding. You have done the work for which I sent you into Narnia."

"Please, Aslan," said Jill, "may we go home now?"

"Yes. I have come to bring you Home," said Aslan.

A flash of gray, worn jeans in her vision brings her slowly into awareness of the world around her, but it’s the voice that breaks her completely from the story’s spell. 

“Talk to me, kiddo.”

Izzy looks up to meet her father’s eyes, surprised - she hadn’t even heard him come up. But they’re quiet movers, the Gallaghers - except for Jamie, who never had to learn to move so quiet she couldn’t hear him, who never had to push down all his sounds so deep inside himself he could go whole days without making any at all. 

Her dad drops into a crouch in front of her, and his knees crack a little, but if it bothers him he doesn’t show it. He looks up at her, from this angle, and he doesn’t look mad.

He almost never looks mad at her.

“I got a call that you were fighting in class.” He looks like he’s trying not to twitch a smile at the corner of his mouth. “And using some pretty creative language.”

“Can’t imagine where I learned to curse,” Izzy says gravely, and there - that was definitely a smile on his face that he has to hide as fast as it shows. She lives for her father’s smile. Still, she closes her book, and folds her hands on top of the stain on the cover so he won’t see it. “I only yelled a little. Henry Fitzgerald was mean to me, and he was going to-... he was going to kiss a girl who didn’t want him to kiss her, even if she didn’t want him to. He said it didn’t matter if she wanted to or not.”

“Ah.” It’s all he says, at first. His face doesn’t show much, now. Her nervous heart starts to beat fast again.

“It’s, that was, um, that was before he got mean. He got mean when I told him that it’s wrong to do that and… I kind of… told everybody in class he was going to.”

Her father’s eyebrows raise, a little. “You did, did you?”

“Yes. Then he said his dad told him my mom’s in prison and that-” She stops herself, closing her hands tightly over the book, before her voice can start to shake again. She takes deep breaths, strong ones, fills her whole lungs up. Her dad waits for her, he always waits for Izzy when she needs him to. “He said, it was just, it was a stupid thing, but it made me really angry.”

Her dad’s face hasn’t changed, but Izzy knows when emotions change in a room, even without anyone’s face moving at all. She can feel that something has shifted inside him, something he’s not showing her. “What did he say?” 

“That I must be awful if my mom doesn’t even want to talk to me.” She says it flat, like it doesn’t bother her at all to hear it. No big deal, it’s normal to have a mother who hates you for stealing your father even though it didn’t happen that way. “Then he said mean stuff about you, and… I was already upset, so… I kind of went off on him. I’m sorry you got called and had to come get me.”

“But you’re not sorry you did it,” He says, and it’s not a question.

She presses her lips tightly together, and shakes her head. “I’m… I’m not. He needed to be yelled at. I’m not sorry, Dad. I mean, I am sorry that you have to do anything, but, I’m not-... sorry for calling him all those names and I will put my money from my birthday in the swear jar if you want, I’ll skip tea for a week and put all my chocolates in there, but I still won’t be sorry for yelling when he was mean about you.”

He huffs a sound like quiet laughter and offers her his hands. “Izzy… I don’t care what a year three kid - or his dad - says about me. But clearly it was important to you. Let me go in there and talk to the Head Teacher about it, and we’ll talk out what happens next on our way home. Okay?”

No anger, or threatening punishments, no mention of discipline ever leaves his slightly smiling lips. Izzy is never taught through making her afraid, not anymore. But he waits, seriously, for her to acknowledge what he’s said. 

“Okay, Dad. We’ll talk about what I need to do. And-... can we call Dr. Marty when we get home? I-... want to talk to Dr. Marty about what happened.”

He looks surprised, but not unhappy about it, and nods. “Yeah, kiddo. Good plan. I’ll be back out in just a bit.” When he turns to walk into the Head Teacher’s office, she thinks that even with everything, he looks very like a grown-up prince, and the rings in his ears look like shredded silver. 

She lifts a hand to touch the shell of her own ear, on her left side. 

Izzy opens her book, to the murmur of their voices as they talk about her. She decides to finish it later, and instead she flips back to read again the bit where the prince takes his sword to the chair that kept him under the spell and tells the evil Queen of Underland that he isn’t hers any longer. 

He will go home, to his family, to be freed of her entirely, even if she still shows up in bad dreams… bad dreams are the only place she can come to, now. He’ll wake up and someone will tell him that she’s gone and she can’t come back, and it will be true. They’ll tell him, again and again, until he believes it. 

Izzy will tell her dad, until he believes it.

Jax will tell her, until she believes it, too.

But first… 

Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

"Madam, there will be no more need of that chair. And you, who have told me a hundred times how deeply you pitied me for the sorceries by which I was bound, will doubtless hear with joy that they are now ended for ever. There was, it seems, some small error in your Ladyship's way of treating them. These, my true friends, have delivered me. I am now in my right mind, and there are two things I will say to you…”

“Go fuck yourself,” Izzy whispers with a smile on her face and the thrill of forbidden words up her spine. She isn’t talking to Henry Fitzgerald this time, either. She never really was. “And I’m not sorry you’re not Queen anymore at all.”

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

[snarkwrites]

ssw | sweetpea; wondering what his kiss feels like. | fluff.

NOTES:

Okay, so.. Apparently my brain likes to torment me. Because earlier, I was going to outline the next chapter for my Sweetpea x Andrews!OFC fic Gangsta and my brain threw out a casual, “But have you considered.. Using the Lodge!OFC you were planning to use with Reggie Mantle.. With Sweetpea?” and this kind of.. came.

So.. if enough people are interested, I may be considering actually writing them a fic or doing more of these little things based around them.. and trying to delve more into possibly pairing Alyssa with Reggie? Because when I wrote their oneshot I felt like there was potential there too... Also, this one shot is a direct result of me, watching dirty dancing reenactments on tik tok and my love for the movie + the fact that Riverdale does musicals every season...

Anyway, enjoy?

PROMPTS:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

the way he says your name / his fingers sliding between your own / wondering what your kiss feels like - these are the inspo prompts used for this oneshot.

FANDOM / CHARACTER

Riverdale / Sweetpea x Lodge!OFC, Marlena

OTHER WORKS SWEET PEA X MARLENA ARE USED IN

None BUT.. That could change, idk..

WARNINGS

Intense sexual tension. Arguing back and forth as a love language until someone snaps. Mutual crushes that turn into something more.. This one is absolutely safe for the kiddos aside from a few swears and the like.. Oh and one barely elaborated on incident of thigh riding / dirty dancing.

TAGGING

There’s absolutely no one on my Riverdale taglist. If you want to be on it, please let me know. Or add yourself to the link below.

OTHER STUFF

[ faq | sfw masterlist - safe for the kiddos but read with caution | tag list ] 

“I swear to God, if she doesn’t give me more, I’m going to fall asleep. Is this really all we could find to participate in the musical for you guys?” My sister's question drew me out of a silent stare war with Sweetpea across the auditorium. He rolled his eyes and I stuck out my tongue at him before turning my attention back to my older sister, sighing as I glanced in the direction of the stage up front. “ She’s not that bad.. I mean at least she had the guts to try out for a part?” I mused quietly, shaking my head. Disappointed at myself because I hadn’t signed up.

Stage fright is one hell of a deterrent. And I knew that if I had tried out, no matter how well I knew the movie we were doing our musical adaptation of this year, when opening night came and those curtains opened and I saw all those people sitting out in the seats? I was going to freeze. I’d completely ruin the show. I didn’t want that.

The best I could do was at least offer to do costumes for Kevin. I told myself that behind the scenes was still helping and being supportive but deep down, ugh.. I wanted to do so much more.

If I were half as brave as my older sister Veronica is when it comes to this kind of stuff… Everyone has their fears though. Mine just happen to be public speaking in front of large audiences. My sister tells me constantly that it doesn’t make sense because I can go all over competing in dance stuff and there’s a crowd there, but.. When I’m dancing, I’m focused on footwork. On steps and the music and the way it makes me feel. I don’t have to speak.

This is also ironic when you take into consideration I am not a shy girl by any stretch of the imagination. I’m actually quite vocal. But when it involves speaking in public?

I freeze. I shut down and in turn, I wind up looking like an idiot.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice that Veronica had gotten up out of her seat and walked over, taking the seat right beside Kevin. They were whispering back and forth. I laughed softly because knowing my sister, she was probably telling Kevin that Leah needed to find a better attitude or Kevin needed to find a better person to play Baby Housemann.

Oh, if only I had one tenth of a clue.

My sister came back over, sinking down into the seat next to me. “Feel better now?” I asked her, barely hiding my amusement as I said it. She giggled and nodded. “Much better. I want you to remember how much you love me…” she muttered.

I raised a brow. “What’s that even mean?”

“Just wait.”

“What the hell did you do, Ronnie?”

“You’ll find out, Marlena. Just wait.” Veronica wouldn’t give me any more of an answer than that. Grumbling to myself, I settled back in my seat and tried to focus on the ongoing argument between Leah and Kevin from the stage.

Rolling my eyes at her audacity. Literally anyone could’ve done her part better and she had the nerve to demand Kevin to change everything to fit her? Refusing to work with him on anything? Putting down the script when it was the same one they used in the movie?

Just the thought of it had me shaking my head and muttering to myself about the entitlement and audacity. Veronica gave a soft laugh and leaned in, mocking the way she’d delivered her last line and the fact that she wanted pretty much all her dialogue changed and constantly needed reasons why her character did anything they did.

“Marlena! Hey, Marlena, where are you?” Kevin was calling my name. I looked up from the whispered conversation I’d been having with my older sister Veronica and raised my hand, waiting.

“C’mon. I want to try something. Leah’s just not cutting it for me as Baby.” Kevin called out to me as he gave Leah an irritated dirty look. Leah threw down her script and walked out of the auditorium in a huff. “This is a stupid idea for a musical anyway. Nothing’s gonna top what the seniors are doing. Good luck, jackass.”

Veronica gave me a nudge and with a soft laugh, she leaned in, smiling as she whispered into my ear, “You were born for this, Marlena. Dirty Dancing is your all time favorite movie.”

“Excuse me? I thought we both established it was Crybaby. Then Grease. Then Dirty Dancing.” I teased, standing in a hurry. My sister’s rebuttal to this was to point out with a soft laugh that I definitely had my own special vibe and type of guy. I poked out my tongue at her and turned away. Making my way towards the front of the auditorium where Kevin stood.

Once I was up there, Kevin pressed a copy of our class’s script into my hands. “Congratulations, you’ve been promoted from costumes.” he smirked at me. “I have a feeling about you and this part. As a director, I’m going to go with my gut.”

“But I didn’t sign up..” I shuffled my feet. 

“ Yeah, well, the ones who did from your class obviously don’t care enough to bother showing up to practice or don’t care enough to give their best when they actually bother to come and we’re rehearsing.” Kevin shrugged. Taking his seat.

Alex, the guy who’d been cast as Johnny Castle, walked over. Wrinkling his nose at me as soon as he stood in front of me. Arms folded over his chest as he asked Kevin in a snobbish tone, “So we’re seriously just letting stage crew have parts now, Keller? Is that what this is? I thought you were going to help us make our musical better, not make it a massive failure.”

“Asshole.” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes as I stepped up to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. Giving him a piece of my mind because holy hell did his holier than thou attitude ever irritate me, “I’ll have you know, I probably know this movie line for line. I can probably do all the dances blindfolded, in a wheelchair. Who the hell do you think you are anyway? I saw you in Romeo and Juliet. I have never fallen asleep so fast in my entire life.” I smirked as I went quiet, rolling my eyes at him.

Alex chuckled and rolled his eyes right back at me, making the dismissive remark in response, “Did I ask you to speak? Did I address you directly? No. I didn’t. I was talking to the director. Don’t you have costumes to make or something? You’re holding up rehearsals.”

Out towards the back of the auditorium, I heard my sister cheering me on. Clapping and whistling. Telling me to give him hell and telling Alex he was awfully full of himself for someone who got a thumbs down by a New York theater critic over the summer.

I took a deep breath and glanced down at the script in my hands. Starting to read over it. Ignoring the argument between Kevin and Alex for the most part. Just trying to get myself in character while I waited. 

Alex grumbled and stormed back over, standing near me. His posturing tense and a supremely annoyed look in his eyes as he gave me half a second’s glance. Kevin gave the cue to start and Alex read his line first. 

“Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame.”

Before I even got a chance to read off my line, Kevin was standing up. Making his way towards us. “You two are supposed to be dancing together. Marlena, you need to stand closer. Alex, you need to deliver the line in more of a teasing tone. Like you’re trying to taunt her. Playful. Not like you’re actually being an asshole. Like you’re flirting with her.”

“She’s not my type.” Alex rolled his eyes as he glanced at me. I glared up at him, a hand on my hip. Dangerously close to exploding all over again. I kept everything I’d been about to say to myself though, and with a deep breath, I listened as Kevin gave us both advice. Smirking to myself a little when he lit into Alex for being a drama queen.

After Kevin finished telling us what to fix, we prepared to try again. I stepped closer. Found myself glancing out in the crowd. My eyes settled on Sweetpea. 

I found him watching the whole thing play out with an amused smirk. His arms folded over his chest. Holding my gaze boldly. Daring me to look away first. I refused. If  I looked away first, that gave him the upper hand. I was not about to give him that.

,, That jackass. Look at him. All smug.. Ugh, I just wanna punch his stupid sexy face.” the thought surfaced and I quickly did my best at shoving it out again. I found myself thinking about a heated argument we’d had in the hallway earlier.

I found myself kind of drawing parallels between him and the character Alex was supposed to be playing but doing a terrible job at playing. I couldn’t work with the performance Alex was giving, he wasn’t giving me anything to work with. 

Somewhere in the midst of it all, I found myself replaying my earlier argument with Sweetpea. Stepping closer to Alex. Doing my best to play at a lack of experience in dance, despite my vast experience and love for it. Getting immersed in the role. Imagining myself as the character Baby.. And not Alex but Sweetpea as Johnny Castle.

Alex delivered his line a second time. His delivery wasn’t much better. Kevin grumbled to himself and made his way over yet again. This time, Kevin’s problem with the scene had absolutely nothing to do with me.

He addressed me first. “Please, please please.. You have to play Baby. You have to.” he gave me a pleading look. “I’m prepared to beg, okay?”

I pretended to mull it over. Smiling as I nodded. “Okay, alright.. I can still do costumes though, right? Because I already have a ton of ideas drawn up..” I shuffled my feet, giving Kevin a pleading look.

“Yeah! Definitely. You’re the only one I trust to do the costumes right, Marlena.” Kevin answered quickly.

He turned his attention to Alex and they got into a heated argument. Alex blamed his performance on me and the fact that I seemed standoffish and that I wasn’t up to his level and shouldn’t even be sharing a stage with him to begin with. Insisting that Kevin should at least give Josie McCoy a chance to play Baby in our play. She already had her hands full with the senior class musical and her performance during intermission and Kevin pointed that out.

“Josie can’t do both musicals and intermission twice, Alex. That’s asking way too much. Even from her, man. Marlena is Baby. You can adapt to that or you’re welcome to leave.” Kevin stood firm in his decision.

Alex eyed me and I stood taller. Smirking up at him. More than a little amused by the entire thing. He chuckled. Shrugging as he tossed down the script he’d been holding in his hands. “Fine. Try to find somebody else to do a better job at playing Johnny. See how that works out. I’m done. I refuse to participate in this mockery.”

He stormed out of the auditorium.

My sister Veronica and Josie McCoy shared a look and a nod. Veronica stood. Josie shot up out of her seat also and the two jogged over to Kevin. Getting him off to the corner of the auditorium. As the three of them whispered back and forth, I stood there, shuffling my feet. Reading ahead in the script.

Taking it all in.

Honestly enjoying the fact that I was going to be playing Baby Housemann in the junior class musical immensely more than I thought I would. ,, until opening night when you’re on stage in front of everyone and you either freeze, bolt out of the room or throw up everywhere.” my mind taunted.

I shoved out the intrusive thought.

Kevin chuckled out loud. Getting so excited that he didn’t keep his voice down when he spoke up. “Your minds, I swear. Yeah, we’re gonna try that. Right now, actually.” Kevin told my sister and Josie. They smirked at each other and as they walked past me, Veronica gave me a wink.

And almost as soon as she did, I braced myself. Because I have the sneaking suspicion that my sister was up to something. And if that something had to do with a certain Serpent reading against me as Johnny Castle?

I was literally going to die. I’d be totally doomed.

,, maybe not.” and even the surprise optimism had me laughing at myself because I knew better.

“Sweetpea, can you come up here, man?” Kevin called out.

I tensed just a little. Took a deep breath. Suddenly I knew exactly what my sister had been up to but my question now was why had Josie taken part in the whole idea? I thought she was dating him? They were hot and heavy at Cheryl’s party a few weeks ago and they went places together a lot …

I prayed for a portal to another dimension to open in the stage and take me out. If my sister has even slightly hinted that I may or may not have feelings for the giant jerk to anyone I swear to God.. I’ll die.

Sweetpea hopped over the chair in front of him and walked down the long aisle, stopping where Kevin sat in the front row. The two were whispering back and forth and more than one time, Sweetpea glanced back at me. Smirking. Chuckling as he listened to what Kevin was telling him and rubbing his chin as he pretended to think something over.

Sweetpea looked over at me and shrugged as he answered Kevin. “I can try. I’m not makin any promises though because I don’t dance and I’ve never seen this movie.”

“Just trust me. You’re as Johnny as Johnny gets, Pea.” Kevin encouraged. I wanted to kick him so badly at that moment. Did he seriously have to encourage Sweetpea? There had to be someone else… anyone else. Someone I didn’t have a massive crush on and yet also want to strangle.

I pretended to stick my finger down my throat and gag, as per usual when Sweetpea locked eyes with me again as he walked towards where I stood..

 ,, because God forbid you let him even get an ounce of suspicion that you have a crush on the guy.” my brain was at it again with the taunting. I pushed it all down deep and took a deep breath or two.

“You did this just to be an asshole.” I muttered.

“No, I did this because Kevin’s my friend. Not everything I do is about pissing you off, princess.” Sweetpea chuckled as he said it. Adding in a quieter tone, “Just because you’re Marlena Lodge… That doesn’t make everything about you.”

My jaw set and I glared up at him. Taking a deep breath or two. Reminding myself that despite Sweetpea now reading as Johnny Castle, I still loved this movie and I wanted our class’s play to be worth watching. That I couldn’t mess this up. I couldn’t let Sweetpea taunt and torment me into messing this up either.

I didn’t want to disappoint Kevin because he was one of my best friends. He was depending on me to at least try to do my best here.

Kevin gave the signal for us to start from the top of the scene.

I stepped closer. My body brushing against Sweetpea’s. Sweetpea mirrored this and grabbed hold of my arms, pulling them out in front of me just like Patrick Swayze did in the actual movie as he recited the line.

And the tone in his voice, oh my god.

“Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame.”

I responded with my line. Stepping closer, even throwing in an accidental mis-step on the top of his foot on my own. 

Kevin continued to sit, watching us rehearse. By the time we got to the scene where Johnny is telling Baby that he got fired, I could feel more people’s eyes on us. And I swallowed hard, trying not to focus on being watched and how that felt, but instead, on the script. On what I had to say and how I felt like it needed to come across.

And maybe, in my own mind, I was imagining how I’d act if I were in Baby’s shoes. Having just argued with my father about the guy I was in love with only to turn and find out that despite my own optimism at convincing the guy to do the right thing, nothing worked out the way I wanted at all.

Sweetpea must have caught on to my anxiety because he muttered quietly, “You good, princess?” as he covertly brushed his hand against mine. Clearing his throat to get my attention and keep me from getting nervous and blanking out or bolting off the stage.

I gazed up at him a second or two, finally nodding. Managing to ground myself somehow and I tried my best to convince myself it was not because Sweetpea’s fingers laced through mine. Almost as if he’d caught hold of my hand to keep me from leaving.

,, He’s just doing that because it’s in the script. You’re supposed to be having a heated discussion and you’re about to walk away upset. That’s the only reason he grabbed your hand. It has nothing to do with the fact that you kind of freaked out a little and lost your focus.” I reminded myself grimly as I caught up to where we were on the page and took a deep breath, preparing for my turn to speak.

As I delivered my next line, “So I did it for nothing.I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway-- I did it for nothing!” I wanted to disappear into the stage floor when my sister stood up in her chair, clapping and whistling. But the way I said it sounded so wistful. Disappointed and bitter. Like I was truly hurting.

Sweet Pea said his line. “No, no, not for nothin', Baby! Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before.” and I paused. Staring up at him. Blown away because he sounded so sincere too. Like for a second or two, this was really taking place and it wasn’t just some silly rehearsal. Like he meant what he was saying.

But I knew he didn’t. We tolerate each other at best. At our worst, we’re at each other’s throats constantly. Finding any and all excuses to rip into each other or push the other’s buttons. Because it’s just what we do.

But his tone. The look in his eyes when he delivered the line. The way his eyes fixed on me, searching. Waiting.

“It’s your turn, princess.. Cat got your tongue?” he muttered under his breath to draw me out of my own inner turmoil.

I took a deep breath and scanned the page. Finding my next line. “You were right, Johnny. You can't win no matter what you do!” and I could feel him staring as I said it. Biting his lip when I lazily punched at his chest because it felt like the right thing to do in the heat of the moment to show how upset the character was. I shook my head and dropped my eyes. “You were right.” I muttered in a quieter tone.

Sweetpea reached out, rough fingertips gripping my jawline. Guiding my eyes back up to meet his as he replied with the next line, “You listen to me. I don't wanna hear that from you. You can!”

And again, it sounded so real. Emotional. Like we were really having this argument. I was really getting into this. Probably a little too much for my own good. I sighed and shook my head sadly. Biting my lip as I stepped away a little and continued to shake my head, arguing back, “I used to think so.” and after a second or two, adding in a quieter tone, “Now I don’t know anymore.” even though it wasn’t in the script.

Sweetpea was staring at me. Thoughtful. Intent. Almost as if he were actually seeing me and not all the stupid things he’d written me off as from the word go on the first time we met. He cleared his throat and that shit-eating smirk was back again. “Not too bad, huh?”

“Jackass.” I muttered, mostly to myself. Still a little dazed.

Kevin called for a break and made his way over.

“Okay, we’re going to take this all the way from the beginning tomorrow. I wish I’d done this sooner. We’re going to have to practice the lift next. Because the lift is iconic. We have to pull that off or I’m gonna want to punch myself in the throat.” Kevin was excited, rambling away a mile a minute.

Sweetpea spoke up. “What about my part in the senior musical?”

“You can do both. We’ll move the junior musical to a different night. You have to do this. C’mon…”

Sweetpea grumbled and finally muttered with a shrug, “Okay, alright. Fine. Shit. I’ll do it. But I’m not wearing tights, are we clear?”

“You really haven’t seen the movie at all… have you?” I scoffed as I gazed up at Sweetpea. He mimicked me and shrugged. “I’ve seen bits of it. But I know one thing and that’s dancers wear tights. I’m not wearing tights. Not happenin.”

“For your information, you big idiot, Patrick Swayze does not wear tights a single time in this movie. At least not that I remember and I’ve seen it a thousand times... Suit and tie, maybe.”

Sweetpea grumbled and raised a brow.

“Not for the whole movie, damn it.. Black jeans and a black shirt will suffice for most of it. You can even wear your leather jacket, you big man-baby. Johnny Castle wears one in the movie.” I answered. Stepping closer to him to sort of get a visual read on his measurements so that when the time came I at least kind of had an idea of what worked. Sweetpea chuckled, dragging his fingers through his hair as he gazed down at me. “See something you like, princess?”

“I’m trying to figure out what I’m gonna need for your costume, dingus.” I replied as calmly as possible.

“Ya know, you could always just measure me… Right? Or ask me my size?”

“Oh you’d enjoy that entirely too much. And I’d have to touch you. No, nope. No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“I’m gonna have to touch you anyway. That lift or whatever it was that had Kevin rambling just now.” Sweetpea barely hid his amusement as he stepped even closer. A hand at my hip. Lingering.

For a second or two, I was lost in his eyes and totally oblivious to anything going on around us and then Kevin shattered that by starting the last song of the musical and calling for everyone to take their places.

And from the crowd, Fangs spoke up.

“Hey babe.. What if we got all the extras from the clubhouse scene to come in through the crowd? Just like the movie?” Fangs was smirking at both Sweetpea and I as he spoke up. Enjoying this entire situation way too much.

“Fangs, you brilliant and beautiful man, this is exactly why I love you so much.” Kevin smirked as he rubbed his chin and called out. “Okay, if you were an extra in the clubhouse scene, go to the doors of the auditorium. When Fangs gives the signal, you’ll come in. Dancing.”

He turned to Sweetpea. “You go with them.”

Sweetpea managed to break the staredown we had going on and he nodded. Grumbling as he walked towards the front of the auditorium.

Everything went pretty well until we got to the part where I was supposed to run to Sweetpea and he was supposed to lift me over his head. I took off, running towards him.

I missed the mark. Wound up with my legs wrapped around his waist, clinging for dear life while he staggered back just a little. Both of us arguing about whose fault it was that we messed up.

Kevin cleared his throat.

“You guys need more practice. Maybe you could rehearse together?”

Sweetpea and I glanced at each other, mulling it over.

“Fine.” Sweetpea ground out through a jaw tightly clenched. A glance at Fangs revealed that the reason he agreed without a huge fight was probably something to do with the way Fangs was giving him a demanding look.

“Fine.” I answered. Swallowing hard.

Trying to pull myself together because frankly, I was still all sorts of stirred up from the way he’d actually caught me and the fact that no, I hadn’t wanted him to put me back on my feet at the end, either.

I spoke up again. “We can do it at the bunker.” I suggested. Trying to think of a neutral place that didn’t favor either of us heavily. A place we could hopefully be alone and focus. And probably scream and shove and storm away to cool off if things got too heated.

“8 work for you or does daddy let you out past your bedtime, princess?” Sweetpea taunted, smirking at me when I glared and rolled my eyes.

“ I do what I want.” I scoffed at his parting jab. 

From behind me, my sister spoke up. “Are you ready, Marlena?” as she looked back and forth between Sweetpea and I with an amused grin.

“Yeah. We need to get going.” I answered.

 As my sister and I walked out of the auditorium, my sister gave a soft laugh. “That wasn’t so bad, huh? I knew you could do it.”

“Oh shut up.” I grumbled, managing a weak smile. “We haven’t made it to the night of yet. Don’t jinx this. Remember what happened last time I had to get up in front of people and talk in any capacity?”

“Marlena, that was kindergarten. Maybe it’ll be different.”

“Veronica, I threw up everywhere. And not gracefully, either. It was a full on projectile vomit.”

“That was something. The chemistry between you and Sweetpea in there. I felt like I was actually watching the movie.”

“He’s an ass. And he hates me, remember?”

“Yeah, well.. It didn’t look that way to me, Marlena. If he hated you, he wouldn’t have been standing so close the entire time… or the way he grabbed your hand?” my sister questioned.

I shrugged it off. “Can we change the subject?”

“Why? Afraid I might be right?” my sister teased, as usual.

TIME SKIP

“Okay, if he’s not here in ten minutes, I’m leaving. This place gives me the creeps.” I muttered to myself almost the exact second that I managed to find a spiderweb with my face and shriek about it.

Low chuckling from behind me had me turning. Finding myself body to body with Sweetpea as he tried not to laugh.

“Do you talk to yourself a lot or do I make you that nervous, princess?” he taunted. I gave a light shove and stepped away, pouting up at him. Quick to argue that he didn’t make me nervous, not at all, not even a little.

Despite knowing that the truth of the matter was yes. Yes, he made me extremely nervous. Because he was so distinctly my type and I just longed for what I knew wouldn’t ever work out between us because we were entirely too different.

“In other words, yes. I make you that nervous.” Sweetpea’s jaw set in a line and I flinched a little. Not wanting to fight with him.

I quickly changed the subject, nodding to a little tv and dvd player I’d rigged up earlier and the brown paper bags with Pop’s logo on the front.

“We need to rehearse. Not whatever this is.” Sweetpea was still irritated.

“Yes, well.. You’re never going to realize just how huge a part of the story Johnny Castle is until you’ve seen the movie.”

Sweetpea rubbed his chin in thought. “How long is this fucking movie?”

“Maybe two hours? C’mon… Or do you have a hot date waiting?” -the hint of jealousy that crept into my tone was enough to make me tense up a little. Pray to God he hadn’t picked up on it. Lucky for me, he didn’t seem to, instead, he was already digging into the grease stained paper bags, grabbing himself a burger and fries.

Sprawling on the little twin sized bed.

I dug out my own food and sat down, close to the edge of the bed, careful not to sit too close to him because I didn’t want to crowd him or annoy him or give him the wrong impression.. Or in my case, the right impression though I’d die before admitting that to him. 

After hitting play on the DVD player, the opening title splashed across the screen and I smiled, settling into my chosen seat just a little more comfortably.

About thirty minutes into the movie, I could feel his eyes fixed on me. I turned to look back at him, a brow raised. “What?”

“You know every single line.”

I felt my cheeks burn a little, shrugging it off as I nodded. Answering through a mouth full, “When we were little.. Veronica and I used to watch this movie whenever it was raining or we were sick. We’d get cozy in one of our rooms with snacks and blankets and we’d just like… imagine life being that simple. Doesn’t help that Johnny Castle is - to quote my sister, “Totally your kind of man.” “ I gave a sheepish laugh and took a handful of my fries, raking them through my milkshake.

Sweetpea rose to sit. Leaning in a little. Extending his arm and wiping his thumb over the corner of his mouth as he cleared his throat. “You had some milkshake…” before falling silent all over again. Staring at me for seconds that seemed to stretch infinitely. It  felt like everything fell away. All that remained was that thick tension. The flickering of the candles I’d lit earlier against the wall. The tension got to me. It had everything I wanted to say but couldn’t find the nerve threatening to come out.

“I don’t bite, ya know.” he muttered quietly. Pulling away a little. That look in his eyes again. 

It hit me. He honestly thought I disliked him. Or thought that I was better than him. Nothing could be further from the truth and realizing how he must have felt and what probably fuelled most of the comments and the arguments between us was the fact that he thought I viewed him as a lesser person somehow… that really got to me.

“I, uh.. I didn’t want to crowd you.” I managed to get the words out after a few seconds. Not daring to look at him. Desperate for a rewind button so maybe I could go back in time to when I first met him and salvage everything.

Desperate to tell him how I really felt.

Especially when I remembered what Veronica mentioned earlier about the way Josie just shut him out.

“Oh.”

The movie caught our attention again. After a minute or two of sitting poised right at the edge of the bed like I’d been and longing to really get comfortable, I settled in the sliver of space next to him. Trying not to think about the fact that the bed being as small as it was gave us literally no space and we were forced to touch.

Thirty minutes passed. Sweetpea sat up.

“ I think I get it now.” he muttered.

“Yeah?” I was getting lost in his eyes all over again.

“Mhm.” he affirmed. 

I sat up and so did he. “It’s cheesy as hell, but… I get it. Kinda know how the guy feels.” Sweetpea’s gaze settled on his hands and he chuckled to himself, the sound almost bitter.

“I’m sorry. I heard about you and Josie breaking up.”

“We didn’t. You can’t break up with someone if they never wanted to be with you to begin with.” Sweetpea answered. He tensed up a little and I sighed. Wishing I hadn’t opened my mouth.

That tension between him and I doubled.

In an attempt to make things just a little lighter, I slipped off the bed. Held out my hand.

Sweetpea eyed it warily. 

I insisted, “Oh come on, please? Just one dance. You did say we had to practice. And I dance, so I can definitely tell you that if we don’t at least somewhat connect, we’re going to be awkward and it’s going to look bad.”

Did I really just do that?

The scene where Baby goes to Johnny’s cabin and spends the night was just beginning and I swallowed hard as soon as I glanced back up at Sweetpea and realized that he was staring at the television in a daze. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“You want me to dance with you.. Like that. Okay.” Sweetpea towered over me. Closing the space between our bodies before I had a chance to back out of what I asked of him. His hands went straight to my hips. Holding my body in place against his as he chuckled, looking down at me. “You’re the one who wanted to dance, princess.”

“Yeah.” I managed to stammer. Breathless. Helpless thanks to the way his fingers dug into my hips and held me against him. But when they started to move up and down my sides, oh… I felt myself shiver at the touch. Melting against him on my own. I’d been trying my best not to give in and do that.

I trained my eyes on the front of his plaid shirt because I didn’t dare look up at him.

His leg slipped between mine and I bit my lip. Breath catching in my throat all over again as I rubbed myself against his thigh. My usual careful,guarded filter was gone.

All I cared about was doing whatever I could to show Sweetpea that what he thought I felt towards him wasn’t true.

His hands settled across my ass. Fingers digging in as he gasped quietly. A groan slipping out as he muttered in a daze, “You really are a good dancer, huh?”

“I, uh… I compete. My parents are huge on pushing my sister and I into competitive activities, whether we want it or not.” I babbled.

It must have bothered him that I wasn’t looking at him because he gripped my jaw, guiding my gaze up. “But you like dancing. I can tell.”

,, maybe it’s just dancing like this with you.” the thought came. I stopped just shy of actually letting it slip out. I sighed and smiled, nodding in agreement. Because that was so much easier than everything else I wanted to do or say. ,, besides,” my brain continued to taunt, “why on Earth is he going to want you when he could have literally anyone else?” and the thought had me pouting a little.

I didn’t think he was aware of it.

“What?” he asked. Tensing a little. Loosening his grip on my body just a little bit. Seeming as if he wanted to step away from me. Before I had the chance to talk myself out of it, I melted against him all over again. Raising my arms to slip them around his neck.

“Nothing.” I answered after a few seconds.

“You were pouting again. That’s kind of a thing you do when you’re upset, you’re not getting your way or you’re annoyed.”

The fact that he picked up on that had me raising a brow. Scoffing. About to argue that I didn’t pout all the time, but keeping quiet because I knew he was right.

But how -and when, had he noticed?

“Dreading the fact that I’m going to get up there on stage and see everyone watching and I will panic.” I muttered quietly because a half truth was better than the whole truth or a complete lie.

If I told him the real reason I’d been pouting, well.. That would’ve opened up a can of worms that I’m not sure about opening. God I want to. But if I just lay it all on the line…

I can’t.

Sweetpea raised a brow. He started to say something but he went quiet on me. Thinking.

“But you’re so loud.” he finally spoke up.

I pouted up at him, giving his chest a light smack. “I ought to step on your foot, sir.”

“Won’t hurt. Boots are steel toe.” Sweetpea smirked as he said it. Sticking his tongue out at me.

He dipped me and I hadn’t been expecting it. I gasped and he chuckled. “Not so bad at this dancing shit, hmm?” he questioned as he pulled me back up. His hands moved up and down my back before settling on my ass again. Squeezing when I rocked myself over his thigh just a little before I could stop myself because what he was doing was getting me worked up.

I sighed a little. Melting all over at the way he touched me and held me. Admitting with a quiet laugh, “You’re actually not. And I can teach you more..” trailing off and going quiet.

“You can, huh?”

His voice was this perfect mix of gravel and silk and I had to clench my thighs just a little. Found myself praying to whatever God might exist that I didn’t get too excited and leave a wet spot behind on his jeans. Because that would definitely seal the embarrassment and awkwardness factor. And I didn’t want that.

I was staring intently at his chest again when he tucked his fingers beneath my chin and tilted my head. “Careful what you say, princess. I might actually take you seriously.”

“I’m being serious. I don’t mind at all.” I babbled and instantly, I wanted to punch myself in the throat for it. This awkward version of myself wasn’t me but for whatever reason, Sweetpea seemed to bring it out. All my insecurities seemed to come rushing to the surface. Taunting me with the knowledge that there was no way he’d ever be interested in me beyond the convenience of a good screw. Knowing that even if he were, something would go wrong somehow.

He dipped me again. This time when he pulled me back up, our faces bumped against each other and when my mouth brushed against his, I couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that came. His fingers dug into my body just a little more and we were staring at each other.

Dazed.

“Pea?”

“What’s up, princess?” he muttered after a second or two. Blinking as if he were trying to focus.

“Nothing.” I muttered. Losing my nerve and my train of thought. Pushing down everything I’d been about to say all over again.

“ Why do you do that? Just say whatever it is you want to say.”

“Oh, I don’t think you want me to do that.” I muttered, mostly to myself. My gaze trained on anything and everything but his. He guided my face up and licked his lips, his eyes darting down. Settling on my mouth. “What if I do?” he muttered in response after a few seconds.

“Okay, fine. I was wondering what..” I trailed off. Frustrated. Laughing at myself and shaking my head. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me, woman. Damn.” his tone was firm and I swallowed hard as I looked up at him.

He was going to keep at it until I said something and right now, I was drawing a blank on any other convenient things I could say that were less controversial than what I’d stopped myself from saying.

,, maybe if you say it, he’ll know that you don’t hate him.” the thought came.

I took a deep breath. Shaky.

“I was wondering what your kiss feels like.” I muttered, my voice dropping so low that for a second, I didn’t think he heard me.

His jaw dropped. One hand left my ass and raised. Dragging through thick dark hair as he tugged. His mouth opening and closing.

“What? You kept asking… I.. You don’t have to. I didn’t want to make it weird.” I babbled nervously. When he started to chuckle, I looked up at him with a brow raised. “Gee, thanks.” I pouted.

Stepping away. Because if I didn’t put some distance between us right then, I was going to keep digging the hole deeper.

He reached out and grabbed me by the hips, pulling me against him all over again. Rocking himself into me clumsily. His face inching closer and closer to my own. Our mouths were on a collision course and neither of us bothered to stop it from happening. His lips settled against the corner of my mouth clumsily. His tongue traced the outline of my lips and I shivered and melted against him like I’d been before. Clinging. My arms around his neck again. Fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck before settling my hand across to rest and pull his mouth back against mine.

My lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past my lips and he melted into me this time. Deepening the kiss. Using his grip on my ass to pull me up his body slightly. I sighed as the kiss broke, my tongue rolling over kiss swollen lips. Staring at him as I tried to wrap my head around what just happened.

How badly I wanted it to happen again.

“Well?”

I bit my lip. Trying to formulate words. Anything. My brain must have short-circuited because I came up with nothing, despite all the opening and closing of my mouth as I attempted to answer.

I’m not sure what possessed me to do it or why I thought it was a good idea, but I was grabbing hold of the back of his neck. Pulling his mouth back against mine greedily. Taking total control of the kiss this time around. Making him chuckle into the kiss. 

As we pulled apart to breathe, he repeated his question.

“Better than my wildest dreams.” I blurted out quietly.

“So you dream about kissing me?” he asked, tucking his fingers beneath my chin so that I couldn’t do what I tended to when a subject got to be too uncomfortable for me… I swallowed hard and admitted in a hushed tone, “Among other things.”

He growled out the word “Fuck.” and pulled me up his body completely. Deepening the kiss to a point where I almost forgot to breathe a time or two. I could feel myself getting light-headed. The kiss broke and we pulled apart, breathing heavily. I melted against him, dazed. Still trying to get my head around the turn the night had taken.

“It’s getting late, princess.”

“It is.”

“I should probably get you home.”

I pouted a little. Holding onto him just a little tighter. “Unfortunately.” I muttered.

He scooped me off the table and carried me out of the bunker. Sitting me on the back of his motorcycle. I wrapped my arms around him and leaned against his back, the Serpent patch scratching at my skin a little.

The drive back to the Pembrooke took almost no time and as soon as his motorcycle stopped at the curb, I pouted a little. Rolling my eyes at the literal ivory tower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I asked as I slipped off the back of his motorcycle.

 He grabbed hold of my hips, pulling me against him. Leaning down and stealing another deep kiss. “Mhm. Definitely, princess.”

I practically floated up the stairs leading into the lobby of the building. And I leaned against the wall, waiting on the elevator. Trying to pull myself together. Smiling like an idiot.

[dayurno]

@andrewsrabies and i had a very productive conversation on the kandreil server about catholic au kandreil so here it is the result of my moral obligation to write it as an ex catholic school student

no tws this is just gay as hell. i also might crosspost it on ao3 at some point. so who knows. please be aware this is definitely a little bit blasphemic

the father.

“You will never have him.”

Neil smirks. “Are you talking from your own experience?”

The roof is too windy, too dark —  Neil, with his back to Andrew and draped over the ledge, knows just one push would be enough. He doubts he’d ever resist the fall: Palmetto Academy is too lofty of a building to match its even loftier saints. 

Yet Andrew does not dare to approach the ledge, and Neil does not turn around to see him. There is no reason to, when both know what they are here for — “He is better than you,” Andrew tonelessly points out, the edge of irritation making something red and ripe unfurl inside Neil, “in every conceivable way.”

“One thing we have in common,” Neil observes, crushing his cigarette against the ledge. “You do not strike me as worthy of Kevin Day, either.” He pauses, then lets his smirk widen. “Not that it stops you, of course. He is the best thing you want. The only, too.”

A heartbeat. Two. Neil would never survive the fall —  as he would never survive Kevin. Some choices are easy to make with your head on the line. 

“Are you a believer?” Andrew asks, at last, his voice ghosting over Neil’s back. It drips and overflows, patiently waiting to sink Neil beneath the waves, every turn of his tongue vicious. 

How can a tongue so cruel be used to kiss someone so good, Neil wonders. Surely Kevin had a taste for poison. 

“Oh, am I?” Neil muses, turning ever so slightly. He does not find Andrew —  doubted that he would. Andrew is as much of a nothing as Neil is. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“You will not have him.”

“Why?” he hums. “You won’t let me?”

“I find it useless to repeat myself.”

Neil taps against his wrist watch. “You should know better than to think that that has ever stopped Kevin before.”

“Define that,” Andrew lazily prompts. A challenge.

“Me, being worthless. Another thing the two of us have in common.”

“We,” he viciously hums, “are nothing alike.”

“No,” Neil agrees. A lie, not his first and definitely not his last. “You hate me and I hate you. Let’s see who hates best.”

Andrew’s gaze burns against Neil’s nape. “I do not hate you more than I want Kevin.”

“How sweet of you.”

For one, Neil wants Andrew to be proved wrong: in some twisted way of his, he wants Andrew to hate him as much —  or perhaps even more —  than he wants Kevin, if only to solidify Neil as a permanent presence in their not-relationship. Hatred, he thinks, is just another form of obsession; almost as intense as desire, but not as contagious. 

One thing was true, though: Neil would not leave Palmetto without having felt Kevin Day’s mouth pressing against his, sweet and young and oh so ill-advised. If that meant having to push through the taste of Andrew’s sour tongue, so be it. The sweetness of Kevin was worth it. 

Neil taps against his wrist watch again, not bothering to look back at Andrew as he says, “Tick tock, your detention is about to start. I believe you have some daily worshipping to do.”

“Daily worshipping,” Andrew scoffs, but, Neil notices, does not disagree. “Is that what you call it when you imagine it in your head?”

“Oh?” Neil drags out. “How Christian of you to think I have to imagine.”

He cannot see Andrew through the ever-thickening fog of tension surrounding them, but Neil knows the twitch of his eyebrow well enough to build a picture in his head. “You will not have him,” he repeats. His voice is far away now — so ready to leave, Neil muses. For all of Andrew’s so called toughness, Kevin’s mouth must keep him on a tight leash. “Even you, stupid as you are, would know not to touch what is mine.”

Neil turns to look at him, catching only a glimpse of Andrew’s pale hair under the dim lighting of the staircase that leads to the rooftop. He hovers by the doorway — waiting for Neil’s next move. Calculating, even; math Neil barely knows the numbers to. “I will make you no promises we both know I will not keep,” is what Neil hums back, dragging out his words like cheap perfume across a hotel room. “I can touch anything, and Kevin doesn’t seem too opposed to it. Kind God of yours, right? Always thinking of those who have less.”

Andrew does not reply. He slams the door behind him, and Neil is once again alone on the roof. 

He lights another cigarette.

Smiles.

Lets it burn.

Rinse and repeat.

the son. 

“And then you— Andrew, you’re not listening to me,” Kevin sighs, his upper lip curling into a soft frown under the egg-yellow lights of the detention office.  

I believe you have some daily worshipping to do. Andrew Minyard hates everything about Neil Josten, from the sharp tip of his tongue to the dim freckles on his cheeks, but for once he is right —  when was the last time Andrew had fulfilled his worshipping duties? Was it last night’s mass, or this morning’s confession? 

Either way: it has been too long. A good Christian is always ready to do better, and Andrew has never been one to slack off on divine duty. 

“No,” Andrew agrees, because he does not lie to Kevin. Leaning against the edge of the teacher’s table and looking all high and mighty with his primly tucked dress shirt, Kevin looks as if he knows he’s worth gold, or at least as if he needs a reminder. “I am not.”

Kevin’s dark eyebrows furrow. “What has gotten you so distracted that you can’t even listen to me?”

Foolish, foolish man that Kevin is, to think that Andrew has ever thought of anything but him. “You,” he replies, blunt and toneless. “Pretty mouth of yours. I couldn’t hear a thing.”

 “Andrew,” Kevin warns, dropping the hands he had just been using to gesticulate. 

“Yes?”

“What are you trying to do?”

Andrew feels the corners of his mouth twitching. “Why, complimenting what is mine. I do it all the time.”

Kevin’s mouth closes, cheeks blushing a ripe red. He is too far away for Andrew’s liking, but preamble is Andrew’s only game, and the view is rather pleasant from his spot at the second row of seats. “You,” he slowly says, raking a hand through his hair, “are too much.”

Andrew motions dismissively, leaning back on his chair to take in all of Kevin’s image. “Kevin and his unwavering self-restraint. So good, hm? I like you best when you give up control.”

“You do not like me.”

“Oh,” Andrew muses, smile sharpening, “I like you.”

It makes Kevin roll his eyes, the reply, but it’s quite fond. “I told you that if you want a kiss, you just have to ask for it.”

He hums in acknowledgement, but changes the subject, “Does your God forgive you for what we do?”

“She knows I’m good,” Kevin replies, all warm smiles and deep dimples. “She’ll forgive me.”

Too good, Andrew thinks —  too good to have anything to do with someone like him. And yet. “Come here, then,” Andrew beckons, motioning him forward. “Give Her something to forgive you for.”

Kevin’s answer is a huffed out laugh, but he complies: Andrew watches in barely-concealed anticipation as he slides through the first row easily, stopping near Andrew’s seat and gracefully leaning against his desk, keeping some respectful distance between them. “I thought I said come here,” Andrew remarks, resting both of his hands on Kevin’s knees. 

Mine, he thinks. And fuck Neil Josten for expecting anything else.

“Lead the way,” is what Kevin says, offering his hands for Andrew to do with them what he wills. 

He does. He tugs on Kevin’s hands to bring him into his lap, to which Kevin easily complies, crossing his hands behind Andrew’s nape and offering him a curious look. “You’re angry about something,” Kevin quietly points out, tipping his head to the side.

Andrew’s hands fly to rest over his thighs. “Ran into your friend at the roof just now.”

Kevin mulls that over on his head for a little before guessing, “Neil?”

“Mhm,” Andrew replies, “the very one.”

It doesn’t fluster Kevin —  Andrew hadn’t it expected it to —, but it does prompt a pensive look in his eyes. “I suppose it makes sense that you don’t get along. You’re too alike.”  

Andrew brushes his lips against Kevin’s, reaching a hand to lightly tug against his tie. “The only thing we have in common,” he says, “is that we both want you.”

Kevin doesn’t look surprised by the new piece of information, but leans in to thoughtfully nibble on Andrew’s lower lip. “Yes,” Kevin agrees, as if he knows the extent of both their devotions —�� as if he’s not surprised at all by the enormity of their desire. “You do.”

“And you like it,” Andrew points out.

He is silent for a small while, a warm weight on Andrew’s lap. “He asked me for one kiss,” is what Kevin chooses to eventually say, “and one kiss only. Before he gets expelled.”

“And you love a lost cause.” Andrew tucks a strand of hair behind Kevin’s ear. “Will he get his kiss?”

“I won’t let him get expelled,” Kevin answers, nuzzling against Andrew’s palm as painstakingly eager as always. “I’ll strike a deal if needed. He has potential.”

“To what?” he wondered aloud. “He is nothing.”

Kevin frowns. “No one is nothing. Everyone is worth something.”

“Savior complex,” Andrew teases, fitting his palm against Kevin’s jaw and bringing him down. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“One kiss can’t hurt,” he says. Not an answer as much as it is a thought. 

Andrew hums, fitting their noses together. “But do you want him?” he asks, brushing his mouth against Kevin’s. “Or do you just like that he wants you?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“No.”

“Hm,” Kevin says, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

Then leans in. 

Andrew forgets what he was talking about. 

the holy ghost. 

“Have you thought about my offer yet?” Neil asks, perched on top of a bench as he stares over at Kevin, the early morning light brushing through his auburn hair. Palmetto’s garden is paler than it has ever been at Autumn’s peak, but Kevin loves the season —  finding Neil on his morning was just a bonus. 

Kevin stretches his arms out lazily, feeling Neil’s eyes follow his every movement, before replying, “What can I give you to make you stay?” 

Neil smiles, tight-lipped. “I don’t stay, Kevin.”

“Well,” Kevin draws out, supporting himself against the bench Neil is perched on to stretch his right leg. “Then I suppose you don’t want that kiss like you say you do.”

“Oh,” Neil’s smile melts into a lazy smirk, the dark bags under his eyes competing against the brightly lit end of his cigarette. “Oh, you don’t know how bad I want it.”

“Prove it,” is Kevin’s easy reply, his rosary dripping down his chest as he moves to stretch his other leg, Neil’s eyes boring holes through the exposed skin. “Put some effort into staying. Don’t let yourself get expelled.”

Neil mulls it over in his head for a moment, but Kevin is in no rush —  this early in the morning they are the only people awake on campus, which means there is no danger of interruption that is not divine. 

Good Lord, Kevin quietly thinks to himself, all of my life I have been good. Let me have this. 

At last, Neil prompts, “You sure think highly of yourself to believe that one kiss is enough to make a man stay. Aren’t your people supposed to be humble?”

“I’m God-fearing,” Kevin corrects, “not stupid. I see how you look at me.”

“We all have our gods,” Neil hums, turning around to straddle the back of the bench and stare straight into Kevin’s front. “I’m just wondering what I have to do to keep the Goddess on my side.”

“Which Goddess?”

Neil smiles. “You.”

“Stay,” Kevin replies, “and I will be close enough for you to get tired of me.”

“Oh, I don’t reckon I will.”

“Can’t know if you never try.” Kevin bends to stretch his left leg one more time before pulling himself up, now face to face with Neil. “And you still haven’t disagreed with me, so I’m guessing a kiss is enough to make you stay, after all.”

“Hm,” Neil hums, thoughtful, without ever taking his eyes off of Kevin’s face. “It might just be circumstance. You should burn those shorts of yours before the fire of Hell does.”

Kevin tips his head to the side in challenge. “But Andrew likes them so much.”

“I’m sure that he does.” He breathes into the smoke of his cigarette one last time before killing the flame against the bench. At last, Neil concedes, “Keep my interest, Kevin Day, and I’ll stay.”

“You’re interested aplenty already,” Kevin observes as Neil’s eyes dart downwards. “So much so I might have to schedule a session at the confessionary for you.”

Neil swipes his tongue over his teeth like a snake licking venom out of its own fangs. “Why wait? I’ll confess to you now all of my thoughts.”

“I recognize I’m a creature of the divine, Neil, but I’m not fit to be a priest.”

“Of course not,” Neil solemnly agrees. “What would be of that Andrew of yours, if you were?”

Kevin presses his lips together, the memory of Andrew’s bed still fresh against his skin. “He’d be just like you,” is what Kevin limits himself to replying. “Just waiting to get expelled.”

Neil’s mouth spreads in a smile that’s a bit more genuine, not snarky or coy as it usually is, and Kevin offers him a curious glance. “Ah, so the rumors are true: you did straighten him up. Was one kiss enough, I wonder, or was Andrew more expensive to keep?”

“He knew what he would lose if he got expelled,” Kevin replies, “and he made his choice.”

“So you say,” Neil hums. He pushes himself closer to Kevin almost lazily, using his hands to keep himself up at the same time as Kevin leans an elbow against the back of the bench to stare up at Neil, meeting him halfway. “The Catholic church owes you so many converts. You are a Saint among men.”

“It is the men that I often convert,” he chooses to say. “They are easier to lure in.”

Neil chuckles under his breath. “I think Andrew and I are just weaker than the majority,” he observes, then pulls away to light another cigarette. “Go have your run. Burn those shorts when you’re done with it.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, but does what he’s told.

Not the shorts, though —  those stayed in his closet.

[pointnumbersixteen]

Headcanon for Cap's crush on Mike coming back and him panicking/floundering whenever he's around him, and getting sad when him and Ally are all cute together.

This is a tough one, mostly because I can’t picture any scenario in which Cap’s crush on Mike returns, at least without some serious character development on Mike’s part, and I don’t think the creators intend to develop him in that direction, unfortunately. 

To explain: 

Captain’s type is pretty clear: men who are fit, handsome, intelligent, and who are natural leaders with good people skills who also look good in green. And I’m pretty sure all of those things are required. 

Cap’s been shown to have some interest in four men on the show. Havers fit every single one of those things and Captain was clearly deeply attached to him. Adam the First AD was also every single one of those things and Cap fell for him pretty fast- I imagine if the filming at Button House had gone on for as many weeks as it was supposed to, Cap might have ended up pretty attached to him, too. Kevin (the Handsome One), however, did not fit the whole bill... he was fit, very handsome, in fact, he’s probably the best looking guy we’ve seen so far on the show, looked good in green, and had good people skills.  Whether or not he was intelligent or not can’t be determined by what was seen on the show. But what he was not was a natural leader. And Cap’s interest in him didn’t seem to go very far past physical attraction- rather than hanging on their every word, like he did with Havers and Adam, Cap’s attention to Kevin was mostly in passing and he was even willing to frame him for theft. So strong leadership skills and possibly intelligence seem to be the deciding factor.

Now, Mike is very fit. He falls somewhere between average and good looking, I suppose (I think average, but I understand that depends on your opinion of weak chins and jawlines. Sorry to anyone who might think that’s a little too nitpicky about male aesthetics. I’d argue at least that Cap doesn’t care too much about jawlines, though, because Adam’s isn’t great, either, although Adam does have a chin). Mike does look good in green. His people skills can be good, although they aren’t necessarily always. What he is not, however, is particularly intelligent or a natural leader. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Mike, but this is the case. And the latter didn’t even have time to come into play. If you remember the first episode, Cap became very interested in Mike on sight. And that interest evaporated completely never to return as soon as Mike implied that he doesn’t like to read. 

I think it would take a lot for Mike to overcome those two deficits for Cap. I don’t know. He’d have to decide to start a course of reading in the library. Or suddenly develop an intensive interest in WWII history. Or finally take charge of properly remodeling the house. Or stop just following along with whatever Alison wants all the time, but in a good way (sadly, I think they might intend to do this, but in a bad way, making him less understanding and more insecure as the show goes one- which is definitely not going to make him appeal more to Cap).    

So sadly, I can’t offer you Cap pining for Mike and getting sad over his being with Alison instead (and really, the poor guy’s probably spent enough time pining for the unattainable, anyway). Please accept these substitutions that I can endorse, however, on similar themes:

If your main goal was Cap lusting for Mike and floundering: 

1) Summer comes around, unusually warm, and Mike starts regularly working shirtless in just, like, basketball shorts (let’s not even talk about the way basketball shorts can drape in certain places) all around the house and grounds. Fanny and Cap reach a quiet understanding with each other on certain issues, and take to trailing him around the house whenever there’s a time they think Alison won’t notice, to enjoy the view. They’re both too civilized for spying in the bathroom, like Mary does, but they’re not above this... they just don’t want anyone else to know that they’re not above this, so make excuses for their reasons to be present whenever they get caught at it. Of course, everyone else noticed this forever ago, but they’re all too amused by it to say anything about it. They both particularly flounder in their excuses whenever it’s Alison that finds them. She, of course, knows damn well why they’re following Mike around. She enjoys the view, too. She does not call them on it. She is in fact the most amused person in the house. Mike’s reaction depends on the snippets he can get of Alison’s side of the conversation with the two, from irritated at things like ‘”I don’t know how useful you are supervising Mike’s tile work; it’s not like you can tell him if it’s going wrong,” to confused at things like, “Oh, you particularly like the wallpaper in this bathroom, do you?” But whenever Mike asks Alison about it, she tells him, “oh, the Ghosts are just being weird again,” because really, it can’t hurt him, and she thinks the Repression Duo really could use letting go long enough to enjoy the view. Then it cools down again, Mike starts wearing shirts, and Cap and Fanny both immediately go back to their scoffing. 

2) Captain has just finished his evening pre-bed security inspection of Button House (headcannoned) and gasp, shock, horror: the door has been left unlocked. Alison must be informed at once. The security of Button House depends on it! He rushes up to Alison’s room to tell her, to walk in on gasp, shock, horror: the thing he dreads the most, (’horseplay’) heterosexual sex! He makes a noise of alarm. Alison hears and then sees him and shrieks. Mike shrieks because Alison shrieked and jumps out of bed. Cap quickly looks away from Alison (but doesn’t run away, as Alison still must be informed, he has a duty) because he’s a gentleman, and also, frankly, because naked woman is just not a sight he wants to see. And instead, he ends up looking directly at Mike. And: damn. Daaaammmmmmn. And suddenly, my boy is Sprung. Up close IRL frontal views of hard bodied naked men just weren’t something he got much of whilst alive. I mean, there were always communal showers, but taking a good hard look was not something that would have gone well for him in his time. Cap comes to his senses and starts to retreat, just as Alison starts yelling at him to leave. He tells her about the unlocked door as he runs through the nearest wall. But he flounders whenever Mike is around for the next several weeks, and can’t quite look Alison in the eye. After Alison gets over her initial irritation at him (after all, it’s not like he can knock) and eventually talks him down. But still, Cap never quite looks at Mike the same way again (daaammmnnn). 

If what you’re looking for is actually the pining at Mike and Alison being cute, though, I can do that, too:

3) Captain eventually acknowledges and comes to terms with the fact that he’s gay. And every time he sees Mike and Alison together, being cute and coupley, cuddling on the couch, holding hands, kissing, it just kills him.He starts trying to avoid them, just so he doesn’t have to think about it. Gaping sadness. Not because he doesn’t get to be like that with Mike. But because he never got to be like that with anyone. 

[codename-adler]

Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt. VI

This bit explores Kevin’s sexual identity and his relationship to Jean, so, you know, not all funs and games... But very cathartic to write. I love them.

>> Table of Contents, TW and other parts are here!

after Juliet’s confession, their little talk does not flow any easier, but despite the rocky start and their dirty secrets, they push through the stuff that matters

it’s like a dam burst open

though, some subjects remain silenced

no parents, no exy, no relationships, no entourage, no names…

it’s just them

Kevin stays well into the afternoon

he has no class on Tuesdays, except in the mornings and, well, for once, he chose to rearrange his priorities

it wasn’t even a difficult choice, it wasn’t even a question: he had to stay, simple as that

he even missed morning practice

morning practice

it scares him, he feels the restlessness running through his veins, he feels guilty, guilty, guilty… and so, so weak…

but that was easier than leaving Juliet in the state she was

that had never happened before

not even with Jean

he’s used to flight, not fight

as for Juliet, either she didn’t have class or she chose the same as Kevin

either way, both were unspokenly grateful

sometimes, Juliet would fall asleep 

sometimes she’d go non verbal and simply watch Kevin do his homework

one time he fell asleep

he woke up extremely tense, his jaw hurting from the clenching and his back protesting against his curled up position on the floor (really, an elite athlete should know better)

Juliet was looking at him strangely

“Can I ask for another truth?” she said quietly

he nodded calmly while his heart went racing

“Who’s Jean?”

ah

“You said his name in your sleep. A lot. Are you usually a sleeptalker? I know I sleepwalk sometimes, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked,” she added

Kevin took an awful long time to think

he was looking at Juliet without really seeing her

instead he was imagining Jean’s bruised and battered face

he started speaking without refocusing his gaze, staring in the distance behind Juliet

“Jean is… He’s the one who taught me French. He’s the one who made me discover philosophy, Sartre and Hell is other people and all. He’s the one who listened first. He is the man that knows my shames, my failures, my mistakes, my ugly side, the man who knew and still looked at me as a human being with worth. He’s the one who showed me how to reset a dislocated shoulder. He’s the one I used to talk to in the middle of the night, about future plans or crazy ideas or incredible historical discoveries. He was my crutch when I couldn’t stand on my own anymore. He’s the one who kept my spirits up when times were tough. He is the man who kept me alive without either of us realizing it until it was too late. He is the man that I took for granted, the man I left behind without a second thought when things got too bad. I could beg for forgiveness my whole life and it still wouldn’t be enough to do right by him. He is the only person that has ever left me speechless. He can make my mind go blank, he can make me lose my words, he can shut me up with just a word. He’s the only one I let, at least. Jean is… So much. Too much, sometimes.”

Kevin’s throat tightened as he spoke, fists clenching and unclenching, his stomach twisting into knots of guilt and shame

if he’d been able to cry, Kevin would have shed burning tears

but he couldn’t

it’s as if everything in his system had been ready to cry, only for his body to realize that his water tank was completely empty of tears

and if Juliet hadn’t been looking at him with such intensity and such intent, Kevin would’ve ran away to Jean’s bedside right this second

three entire languages couldn’t even begin to express everything that Jean was to Kevin

Jean was every single emotion Kevin had ever felt in his short yet brutal existence, wrapped in one person as complex as the mechanics of the world

Kevin thought back on that first night when he allowed himself to be close to Jean since his escape from Edgar Allen

he thought back on how, with a single touch, all their entangled feelings came rushing back to the surface

how Kevin had never wanted to let go ever again, but the dark and violent waves of emotions had made his instincts scream with the urge to run away

Kevin had forgotten Juliet was still a witness to his battle

“Jean was… is… you ex?” she asked, something like wariness in her eyes

and what

“What?” he even says aloud

“Jean was your partner? Before… whatever it is you overcame?” Juliet repeats

“No!?”

“Okay… I’m sorry, Kevin… I didn’t mean…” she apologizes

“Why would you say that?” Kevin harshly asks

“Why wouldn’t I? It seems you two shared a very special bond, that’s all I’m saying,” she replies

she couldn’t possibly know

she couldn’t know

how would she know?

only two people in this godforsaken existence knew about these secrets in the dark, one of them being barely conscious in a bed a few minutes away, and the other one being himself

it was impossible that Juliet knew about what had transpired between him and Jean

“Kevin?” Juliet’s voice finally reaching him

“I said ‘Sorry for assuming’, I shouldn’t have done that. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, I’m sorry.”

Kevin considered their exchange

“I think I want to talk about it. To you,” Kevin finally spoke

Juliet nodded slowly, ever so careful, a silent yet binding promise passing between them

and so Kevin told her everything

absolutely everything

everything that didn’t touch exy, Riko, the Ravens, but that still left plenty, enough to cover many pages of poetry

he told her about how it had started between them, how Jean’s resilience had intrigued Kevin and how it had made him discover that there was more to life than his adoptive-brother

how Kevin had wanted a part of that rebellion Jean carried in his heart, how he tutored Kevin in French to share that slow-burning flame

he told her how for the first time in his life, Kevin’s entire focus wasn’t on one thing, but on a person too

he told her how their midnight talks became as important to him as his duty was

he told her how he began fighting for something else without knowing what it was, or why

he told her how on these nights, as Jean was teaching him verb tenses in French, their heads had, inch by inch, made their way closer to the other’s, until their foreheads were touching and their whispers barely made a sound on their lips

he told her how one fateful night, as Jean was teaching him the future tenses, their faces hadn’t stopped moving once their foreheads touched

how that simple touch hadn’t been enough anymore

how Jean had been his first kiss, his every kisses for the longest time

how he had been Jean’s first kiss, too

he told her how they had been each other’s first for everything

how they had been each other’s everything for a long time

he also told her how his fear and his shame, and his ambition, had ruined what they had

how his and Jean’s “situation” made it so, so hard

how once he was 17 and was “promoted”, Kevin didn’t choose Jean back

how it was on-and-off between them even when he showed interest towards Thea, also his now ex

how he had “moved” when shit hit the fan, and how he didn’t bring Jean with him because he was too scared, too self-centered, too weak

he told her how nobody knew back then, how nobody knows even now, because he had denied everything to everyone, including himself

and he told her how Jean was back, now, and how the memories came flooding back in with that same sour, yet familiar taste of shame, guilt, and fear

Kevin talked and talked and talked…

and Juliet listened

and Kevin cried, or rather, tears escaped his saddened eyes without even realizing it

and Juliet cried, too

they both wiped away the mess with the sleeves of their sweaters

“I have nothing to say about guilt and shame, but… If you liked Jean, if you loved him… if you still do… that is so okay, Kevin. It’s just love. You find it where you can. There’s nothing wrong with that, or with you. That’s how I see it… how I- I see you. You’re still you, Kevin.”

“You don’t know me,” Kevin replied fast, without thinking

Juliet just raised her eyebrow in a really, Kevin? way

“Look at where we are… Look at me… This isn’t even my worst. And I don’t believe it’s yours either. But it’s not pretty. Give us a little credit here, Kev; we’re not strangers anymore. Please don’t be a stranger… “

“Okay, Jules”

---

Kevin left Jackie Hall after sundown, with his heart heavy and his mind racing, but his shoulders a little lighter than yesterday

nothing in his life had magically changed into a goddamn fairytale, yet it felt different

Jules had told him nobody could decide who he was, that was his decision and his alone

he held that power, and only he chose who could wield some of it

he could choose what to do with it, and that thing could be outside of exy

at least, it could be for someone, instead of something

someone like Jean

on his way back to the familiarity Abby’s, back to Jean, he began plotting

by the time he was back by the bedside of the person he’d held so close to his heart and his lips, once upon a time, Kevin had formed a plan to give Jean the happy ending he so deserved

he’d have to make a few calls to USC, to the Trojans, to Jeremy Knox, he’d have to be careful of what he revealed, he’d have to convince Jean to leave, he’d have to convince himself to let Jean go, too, but he believed it was worth it

and if once in a while, in his cautious planning of Jean’s second chance at life, Kevin absentmindedly thought of a certain face framed with frizzy hair when the words “happy ending” kept nagging him, well no one could take that away from him either

[arsenicpanda]

1. do your work!!!! but also 2. pls rank the serpents for me from fav to least fav.

lol, I’m gonna assume that means bughead

001| bughead

when I started shipping it if I did:  I literally have no idea.  I wish I could tell you, but all I know is that when my friend and I got to the 1x06 kiss I was like “YESSSSSS”

my thoughts:  Man, what can I say that I haven’t said before?  I think they’re two of the most compatible characters I’ve ever seen in anything, in interests, in priorities, in attitudes, in world views, in sexual preferences, in intellect, in just anything and everything.  Like, all my favorite ships are soulmates in my mind, by jfc, these two are SOULMATES.  It’s hard to imagine a world where they don’t end up together in some fashion or at least with a very deep bond (or a lot of hurt from a severed bond).  I also really love that Betty is mostly rational and will doubt Jughead’s nonsense; that is, until he or something else manages to convince her it’s not nonsense and she gets on board with it, at which point watch the fuck out, choo choo, all above the crazy conspiracy train, motherfuckers.  Meanwhile, Betty has her own outlandish ideas, which Jughead also sometimes doubts (although not as frequently), but he always supports them anyway because he trusts her judgment, although I’m sure he’d step in if things went too far.  I feel like there’s a danger with them, though, that they could let their biases and blind spots get the better of them and turn onto a dangerous, cruel track that they would be convinced was the Right and Just one, and I think that they could absolutely confirm each other’s stances and they would trust each other’s opinions over the more rational ones of anyone else.  There’s a real possibility for Betty and Jughead to become the villains of the story, not that the show will ever explore that, and I find that very, very interesting.  Also, they would be the world’s most protective parents, jfc, imagine if their kid got bullied, they would ensure that other kid was destroyed

What makes me happy about them: They’re just fucking adorable together and sexy together and crazy compatible and crazy in love.  Watching them make heart eyes at each other, watching them bone, and watching them investigate together bring me great joy

What makes me sad about them: The cheating and the breakup and the b/a and the SEVEN YEARS APART and also all the trauma and the alcoholism ;_;

things done in fanfic that annoys me: When Serpent Jughead is a douchey Bad Boy instead of this guy who is overly intense and extremely committed to his community and constantly ready to FIGHT for it; Serpent Jughead is the world’s most annoying Jughead because he is not only ready to argue with anyone and everyone, he is about to argue with anyone and everyone, someone please stop him, and I don’t know why you’d trade something as ridiculous and fun as “Local Gang Leader Petitions City Hall, Hates Drugs, and Ensure the Safety of His Community (Possibly With Punching)” for “Generic Bad Boy #23435″.  Also irritating: Betty being a complete sweetheart with no edge instead of someone with a good heart who will absolutely cut you if she thinks it’s necessary and right.  Oh, and when Jughead just doesn’t have an interest in writing (or an equivalent creative pursuit).  As a side not, when their parents are made a lot better or a lot worse than they actually are in canon; like, you can’t ignore that they’re terrible, but there’s really no need to make them any worse than they are because they already really suck.  Oh, and alcoholic Jughead is a dealbreaker, I guess excepting canon compliant fic now gdi

things I look for in fanfic: P I N I N G, especially from Betty’s end.  For canon compliant fic, I love a dash of “Jughead has been crazy about her for YEARS”, especially if we get a glimpse at smitten, bby!Jughead.  I also love a well-done Serpent Jughead, and friendships with Jughead and the other Serpents are always a big plus for me, as is any friendship between Betty and Veronica and Kevin.  If the fic is comedic and has a strong supporting cast, I am especially down for it; Betty and Jughead are both so fucking ridiculous, and I think there’s a lot of comedic potential in them in general and also in putting them in regular situations because I do not think they would respond like regular people.  Also a bonus: Jughead being The Most and Betty being Intense and both of them being insufferable.  Oh and tropes upon tropes upon tropes, with a special shout out to there was only one bed

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I’m down for jopaz and jabitha for Jughead, beronica for Betty long term and some hatesex bonna short term

My happily ever after for them: at this point, leaving Riverdale forever and opening a Private Investigation agency in a city, with Jughead writing novels based on their adventures, maybe with a side of kids in the future

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Canonically Jughead is the big spoon and Betty is the little spoon

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Investigations, 100%

003 | teen Serpents + Joaquin

1. Jughead: Look.  I love him.  He’s a disaster.  He loves his community.  He loves Betty.  In general, he loves deeply but also really guards his heart.  He does crazy shit with the best crazy eyes.  He’s The Best.

2. Toni: She is such a delight.  She just does not take people’s shit--with the exception of Cheryl, for better or for worse--and that’s so fun to watch.  She also cares a lot about her community, which I find very fun.  Also she, like all the other Serpents except Fangs, can be mean and I think that’s great.

3. Sweet Pea: Just.  The surliest boy.  So grumpy, but his smile is so cute.  Always ready to fight anyone and everyone, but also really cares about his friends and the Serpents.  Looks cool, absolutely is a loser.

4. Fangs: A sweetheart with a nebulous personality.  Really fun to watch with Sweet Pea and Jughead and Kevin, but I barely understand who he is.  An enigma.  I love him anyway.

5. Joaquin: I am sorry, Joaquin, but I know nothing about you except that you really like Kevin, so you are my least favorite, but know that I still think you’re neat!

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/7/2020

I missed THE GOLDEN GLOVE at Fantastic Fest last year. It was one of my only regrets of the whole experience, but it was basically mandatory since the available screenings were opposite the much-hyped PARASITE. As annoying as that sounds, it was actually a major compliment, since what could possibly serve as a consolation prize for the most hotly anticipated movie of the year? Needless to say, I heard great things, but I could never have imagined what it was actually like. I'm still wrapping my mind around it.

Between 1970 and 1975, an exceptionally depraved serial killer named Fritz Honka murdered at least four prostitutes in Hamburg's red light district. Today, we tend to think of the archetypal serial killer in terms of ironic contradictions: The public is attracted by Ted Bundy's dashing looks and suave manner, and John Wayne Gayce's dual careers as politician and party clown. Lacking anything so remarkable, we associate psychopathy with Norman Bates' boy-next-door charm, and repeat "It's always the quiet ones" with a smirk whenever a new Jeffrey Dahmer or Dennis Nilsen is exposed to the public. The popular conception of a bloodthirsty maniac is not the fairytale monster of yore, but a wolf in sheep's clothing, whose hygienic appearance and lifestyle belie his twisted desires. In our post-everything world, the ironic surprise has become the rule. In this light, THE GOLDEN GLOVE represents a refreshing return to naked truth.

To say that writer-director Fatih Akin's version of the Fritz Honka story is shocking, repulsive, and utterly degenerated would be a gross understatement. We first meet the killer frantically trying to dispose of a corpse in his filthy flat, wallpapered with porno pinups, strewn with broken toys, and virtually projecting smell lines off of the screen. One's sense of embodiment is oppressive, even claustrophobic, as the petite Honka tries and fails to collapse the full dead weight of a human corpse into a garbage bag, before giving up and dismembering it, with nearly equal difficulty. The scene is appalling, utterly debased, and yet nothing is as shocking as the killer's visage. When he finally turns to look into the camera, it's hard to believe he's even human: the rolling glass eye, the smashed and inflated nose, the tombstone teeth and cratered skin, are almost too extreme to bear. Actually, suffering from a touch of facial blindness, I had to stare intently at Honka's face for nearly half the movie before I could fully convince myself that I was, in fact, looking at an elaborate prosthetic operation used to transform 23 year old boy band candidate Jonas Dassler into the disfigured 35 year old serial murderer.

Though West Germany remained on a steady economic upturn beginning in the 1950s and throughout the 1970s, you wouldn't know it from THE GOLDEN GLOVE. If Honka's outsides match his insides, they are further matched by his stomping grounds in the Reeperbahn, a dirty, violent, booze-soaked repository for the dregs of humanity. Though its denizens may come from different walks of life, one thing is certain: Whoever winds up there, belongs there. Honka was the child of a communist and grew up in a concentration camp, yet he swills vodka side by side with an ex-SS officer, among other societal rejects, in a crumbling dive called The Golden Glove. The scene is an excellent source of hopeless prostitutes at the end of their career, who are Honka's prime victims, as he is too frightful-looking to ensnare an attractive young girl. These pitiful women all display a peculiarly hypnotic willingness to go along with Honka, no matter how sadistic he becomes; this seems to have less to do with money, which rarely comes up, and more to do with their shared awareness that for them, and for Honka too, it's been all over, for a long time.

Not to reduce someone’s performance to their physical appearance, but ???

To call Dassler's portrayal of Honka "sympathetic" would be a bridge too far, but it is undeniably compelling. He supports the startling impact of his facial prostheses with a performance of rare intensity, a full-body transformation into a person in so much pain that a normal life will never become an option. His physical vocabulary reminded me of the stage version of The Elephant Man, in which the lead actor wears no makeup, but conveys John Merrick's deformities using his body alone. Although there is an abundance of makeup in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, Dassler's silhouette and agonized movements would be recognizable from a mile away. In spite of his near-constant screaming rage, the actor manages to craft a rich and convincing persona. During a chapter in which Honka experiments with sobriety, we find a stunning image of him hunched in the corner of his ordinarily chaotic flat, now deathly still, his eyes gazing at nothing as cigarette smoke seeps from his pores, having no idea what to do with himself when he isn't in a rolling alcoholic rampage. The moment is brief but haunting in its contrast to the rest of the film, having everything to do with Dassler's quietly vibrating anxiety.

Performances are roundly excellent here, not that least of which are from Honka's victims. The cast of middle-aged actresses looking their most disastrous is hugely responsible for the film's impact. These are the kinds of performances people call "brave", which is a euphemism for making audiences uncomfortable with an uncompromising presentation of one's own self, unvarnished by any masturbatory solicitation. Among these women is Margarete Tiesel, herself no stranger to difficult cinema: She was the star of 2012's PARADISE: LOVE, a harrowing drama about a woman who copes with her midlife crisis by pursuing sex tourism in Kenya. Her brilliant, instinctive performance as one of Honka's only survivors--though she nearly meets a fate worse than death--makes her the leading lady of a movie that was never meant to have one.

So, what does all this unpleasantness add up to, you might be asking? It's hard to say. THE GOLDEN GLOVE is a film of enormous power, but it can be difficult to explain what the point of it is, in a world where most people feel that the purpose of art is to produce some form of pleasure. This is the challenge faced by difficult movies throughout history, like THE GOLDEN GLOVE's obvious ancestors, HENRY: PORTRAIT OF A SERIAL KILLER, MANIAC and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE. Describing unremitting cruelty with relentless realism is not considered a worthy endeavor by many, even if there is real artistry in your execution; some people will even mistake you for advocating and enjoying violence and despair, as we live in a world where huge amount of movie and TV production is devoted to aspirational subjects. (The fact that people won't turn away from the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, no matter how monotonous and condescending they become, should tell you something) How do you justify to such people, that you want to make or see work that portrays ugliness and evil with as much commitment as other movies seek to portray love, beauty, and family values? Why isn't it enough to say that these things exist, and their existence alone makes them worth contemplation?

A rare, perhaps exclusive “beautiful image” in THE GOLDEN GLOVE, from Fritz Honka’s absurd fantasies.

You may detect that I have attempted to have this frustrating conversation with many people, strangers, enemies, and friends I love and respect. I find that for some, it is simply too hard to divorce themselves from the pleasure principle. I don't say this to demean them; some hold the philosophy that art be reserved for beauty, and others have a more literary feeling that it's ok to show characters in grim circumstances, as long as the ultimate goal is to uplift the human spirit. Even I draw the line somewhere; I appreciate the punk rebellion of Troma movies as a cultural force, but I do not enjoy watching them, because I dislike what I perceive as contempt for the audience and the aestheticization of laziness--making something shitty more or less on purpose. A step or three up from that, you land in Todd Solondz territory, where you find materially gorgeous movies whose explicit statement is that our collective reverence for a quality called "humanity" is based on nothing. I like some of those movies, and sometimes I even like them when I don't like them, because I'm entranced by Solondz's technical proficiency...and maybe, deep down, I'm not completely convinced about "humanity", either. However, I don't fight very hard in arguments about him; I understand the objections. Still, I've been surprised by peers who I think of as bright and tasteful, who absolutely hated movies I thought were unassailable, like OLDBOY and WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. In both cases, the ultimate objection was that they accuse humans of being pretentious and self-deceptive, aspiring to heroism or bemoaning their victimhood while wallowing in their own cowardice and perversity. Ok, I get it...but, not really. Why isn't it ever wholly acceptable to discuss, honestly, what we do not like about ourselves?

The beguiling thing about THE GOLDEN GLOVE is that, although it is instantly horrifying, is it also an impeccable production. The director can't help showing you crime scene photos during the ending credits, and I can't really blame him, when his crew worked so hard to bring us a vision of Fritz Honka's world that approaches virtual reality. But it isn't just slavishly realistic; it is vivid, immersive, an experience of total sensory overload. Not a square inch of this movie has been left to chance, and the product of all this graceful control is totally spellbinding. I started to think to myself that, when you've achieved this level of artifice, what really differentiates a movie like THE GOLDEN GLOVE from something like THE RED SHOES? I mean, aside from their obvious narrative differences. Both films plunge the viewer into a world that is complete beyond imagination, crafted with a rigor and sincerity that is rarely paralleled. And, I will dare to say, both films penetrate to the depths of the human soul. What Fatih Akin finds there is not the same as what Powell and Pressburger found, of course, but I don't think that makes it any less real. Akin's film is adapted from a novel by Heinz Strunk, and apparently, some critics have accused Akin of leaving behind the depth and nuance of the book, to focus instead on all that is gruesome about it. This may be true, on some level; I wouldn't know. For now, I can only insist that on watching THE GOLDEN GLOVE, for all its grotesquerie, I still got the message.

[strawb3rrysmooch3s]

AFTG AUDIO BOOK NOTES

So I was bored through this epidemic and searched on YouTube AFTG. I found one, one, audiobook review. So I said “what no way. I could’ve just listened to the books?!” And I went in search on tumblr for any other reviews. There weren’t many that were very helpful.

So I sat down, listening to the whole thing, and wrote down any thoughts that popped into my head as I listened.

Those notes from the audiobook are what I offer. Hopefully someone will find this helpful. Whether you’re debating listening to the audiobook or if you just wanted to know what scenes have me goosebumps.

- [ 1 ] Drugged Andrew sounds like a stoner California kid, not exactly someone who fluently speaks German and takes a Yazuka head on

- [ 2 ] Kevin has a more expressive voice than I had imagined

- [ 3 ] Neil’s voice sounds angsty, I think that’s about right

- [ 4 ] Whymack’s supportive deadline hits harder when you hear them spoken to you. For example when he says “ it’s about second chances” to Neil

- [ 5 ] I honestly expected Andrew to sound more monotone

- [ 6 ] Nicky is a fun character

- [ 7 ] Andrews drugged up voice is getting better ( ch.2 ) Aaron’s voice is 8/10

- [ 8 ] I was hoping when German was used to the narrator would use it as well, but he speaks English so that we will understand as we take Neil’s POV

- [ 9 ] Andrews smile “bright but vacant” describe his voice perfectly.

- [ 10 ] I had also been hoping that Andrews voice would change drastically when he is sober as opposed to when he is medicated, but it does not change to drastically

- [ 11 ] Listening to the layout of the locker rooms made it easier to picture

- [ 12 ] “Our babies are gonna be gorgeous”

- [ 13 ] There is definitely a difference in Andrews voice ( ch.3 )

- [ 14 ] It’s a lot better stoned. I think.

- [ 15 ] The moment in ch 4 with Andrew and Neil is the stands watching Kevin practice for the first time is narrated amazingly

- [ 16 ] “But I’ll still solve you” in ch 4 hits hard!!! Period.

- [ 17 ] The Kevin panic attack is intense

- [ 18 ] The information in the book is a lot easier to take in and understand when you’re listening to it, so from that aspect I appreciate having the audiobook regardless of how peoples voices may end up sounding

- [ 19 ] “You know how much I hate word” WOAH ANDREW ( ch 6 )

- [ 20 ] I like Seth‘s voice it is exactly how I imagined his character sounding

- [ 21 ] Having Neil’s eyes explain to us as he looks at himself in the mirror is a chilling experience

- [ 22 ] Neil’s trip to Colorado was easy to listen to and it was captivating, the way that the club was explained was very easy. I had a hard time trying to get the layout of the night club in the book but I found it relatively easy to listen and picture it in my head with the audiobook

- [ 23 ] Whymack sounds like a grouchy old Boston dad

- [ 24 ] I like the voice that the audiobook narrator chose for the game stadium announcement voice

- [ 25 ] Do you really feel like you’re part of the games, you really feel like you’re in the games at Neil’s feet

- [ 26 ] Kevin is such a huge EMO sleepy baby ( ch 12 )

- [ 27 ] The narrators attention to detail is fantastic

- [ 28 ] RIIIIIKKKKOOOOOOOOOOO GOD he sounds luscious on Kathys show

- [ 29 ] Kathy is a double face bitch

- [ 30 ] Riko is a rude spiteful little Japanese sports loving punk. But I still love him. Little mafia man.

- [31 ] Andrew TOUCHES NEILS BACK

- [ 32 ] God all the subtle flirting, Neil is blind as shit. Maybe he needs real contacts. Andrew has been throwing out clues even when he spoke to Neil

- [ 33 ] I am genuinely excited to see if he reads any of the next two books, I think I could follow them really well and I’d enjoy the listening experience

- [ 34 ] Over all : I found it easy to listen to and easy to understand and follow. It was a good audiobook, for the seven our time run that had I have finished it in about a day. However I still can’t get over how he voiced Andrew so differently from what I had imagined or pictured Andrew with. But there’s only so many different voices one man can do with a book that has this many characters in it so I understand that that is not a fault of the narrator, I also understand that that is just what he could’ve pictured Andrew sounding like and that’s also okay.

- [ 35 ] 8/10