#but I also hope it will continue to be a story about hope

[norrisainz33]

the call pt 2 || platonic grid & gr63

summary: y/n finishes out the triple header strong after being called up to race for alpine

pairing: platonic!grid x george russell x rookie!driver!reader

fc & warnings: none and minor hate comments, bad language, and bad grammar from my end

a/n: i've never had this many people request a part 2 before so i hope y'all enjoy!! I'm going to keep her racing in the remainder of the season so keep an eye out for the rest.

part 1

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by pierregasly, ynuser, yourbff, yoursibling, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 876,234

alpinef1team: a point in the bag for pierre and another good drive for y/n 💼

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user2: solid result for the team!!! y/n ate in her second race ever

user99: a team of losers tbh

ynuser: yay for points! let’s go pierregasly

pierregasly: we go again in brazil! points for both of us there 😉

ynuser: everyone better make sure to bet on us 🙂‍↔️

yourbff: let’s go best friend(s)!!!!

ynuser: 🫶🏻

georgerussell63: great stuff ynuser

ynuser: thanks georgie

user1: notice how he is always supporting her…. is there something here?

user2: they’ve been friends since their karting days!! if you asked me back when they were in f2 if they were tg i would’ve said yes bc they were kinda sus but now idk

user1: gonna go research the lore on their f2 days

✿

you let out a huff as you threw your padel racket on the ground and wiped the sweat from your brow, “god dammit lance! how are you so good at this!?”

laughing lance shrugged, “maybe you and george are just really bad!”

george shook his head, “no mate that can’t be it!”

you took a long drink of your water as the pair continued to bicker. “did you both see the weather for the weekend?” you asked changing the subject so they’d stop.

“yeah, lots of rain it seems.” lance put his racket into his bag and looked up at you with concern. “have you raced in the rain before?”

you shook your head, “no not really. i mean when i was karting yes but outside of that not really.”

“blimey y/n/n,” george ran a hand through his hair. “you’ve been going over those scenarios with your team right? there’s a chance of some really heavy rain.”

“i have, i have. i’ll be ok!” you assured them both with a smile but your friends looked anything but reassured.

✿

ynuser has posted to their story

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user2: jesus christ you’re so hot

user4: im obsessed with you holy f

georgerussell63: green is a good color on you. tho i think mercedes blue is better

ynuser: you mean alpine blue and pink

georgerussell63: nah i’d like to see you in my colors

ynuser: oh?

georgerussell63: you heard me

francocolapinto: 👀

ynuser: and you’re coming to play with us next time yea?

francocolapinto: si bonita

yourbff: H O T

ynuser: thanks bb

ynuser: also i think george might be flirting in my dms rn?

yourbff: WHAT?!

ynuser: he said he wants to see me in his mercedes kit

yourbff: oh that’s 🤭

landonorris: you look tall here

ynuser: thanks shortie 🩷

landonorris: uncalled for

user5: thanking your parents for doing it tbh

✿

holding in a yawn you turned to walk back to your garage after the brazilian national anthem. the 5am wake up for this ‘super sunday’ as they were calling it was catching up with you despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. you had had the qualifying session of your life, which despite the cool confidence you played it off with in your interviews after, shocked you just as much as it shocked everyone else. you qualified in 4th. yes, you read that right, p4. something about the car came alive in the rain and you prayed it came alive again during the race but the rain was starting to pick up and it seemed like it was only going to get worse. you’d already seen several red flags in quali and would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t terrified that that was about to become you in the race.... especially with the threat of the entire field behind you, including max verstappen, wanting to push forward and push forward fast regardless of the consequences.

“y/n!” a hushed voice caught your attention. george had caught up to you and had a serious look on his face. “please be careful out there,” he pleaded.

“you too george,” you squeezed his arm lightly. “i’ll see you on the podium, yeah?"

"yeah," george winked as you turned to head into the alpine garage.

your engineer, james, handed you your helmet as he went over a few more pieces of data. he was stressing over the litany of different plans the team had put together in the very short window between quali and now. the heavy rain and your heroic lap times caused just about everything your team had prepped to be turned upside down.

“right, right i’ve got it james. plan a seems the most logical if i can keep everyone behind me.” you said as you pulled your helmet onto your head and fastened the strap.

things were about to get interesting.

✿

f1 has made a post

liked by alpinef1team, yourbff, yoursibling, yourfriend, ynupdates and 435,725 others

f1: the race is stopped under the red flag for a crash….. and y/n y/l/n is our new race leader! after running a surprisingly strong p4 for the first half of the race, she took the lead when those in front pitted for new tyres. y/n is the only woman in history to lead a lap in a grand prix

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user1: not them calling her performance surprising 🥴

user2: I KNOW THATS RIGHT!

user12: only gonna last a second. she can’t even compete with the likes of verstappen

alpinef1team: @ everyone behind, y/n.. can we pretty please keep it this way?

yourbff: real tears are being shed rn this is monumental

user9: god is this amazing

mercedesamgf1: we love to see this historical moment! even if we’re coming to take it back 😉

user11: literally the most amazing thing i’ve seen all day

✿

you ripped another tear off from your helmet wishing it would make it easier to see but to your dismay, you still couldn’t see a damn thing. the rain was coming down in buckets, your inters were worn, you were fighting the car even in the straight lines to keep it on the track and worst of all, you were scared shitless. you had no moment to even be happy about your current position in p1 because you were too busy trying not to send your car into the barrier.

“max is 2 seconds behind you and gaining very quickly. gasly is 1.2 seconds behind max and leclerc is 0.9 behind pierre.” james updated you on the radio which sent you into a fit of rage.

“james for fucks sake i don’t care!!! stop giving me timing updates!! i can’t see the road so i can’t do anything about it!!!” you almost screamed. "i can't even pass half throttle!"

“rain is expected to lighten in about 10 laps,” james reported ignoring your outburst.

“10 LAPS?! how am i supposed to survive 10 laps?!?!?” as you yelled you felt the rear of your car start to slide causing you to need to quickly snap it back into place. “there is so much standing water james - i can’t keep doing this. the front straight is like a swimming pool!”

“yes you can, y/n. lock in and calm down. you only have a couple of laps left in this class of rain.”

“lock in? calm down!? and what if i crash this damn car first?!” turning off your radio you tried to take a few deep breaths while focusing on the road in front of you. you couldn’t panic - that would only make matters worse. you had to stay calm. you knew your car, you knew to deviate off the racing line to avoid the slippery curbs in specific turns, and you knew that you had to make it through whether you wanted to or not. panicking was not going to help anyone but there was little way to explain just how scary it was on track at this current moment.

another snap of significant oversteer left you breathless and near tears. “james im so serious - i need wets and even then i don’t think they’re going to be enough. there's standing water on every part of this track. i can't race like this on these tyres. please talk to fia. please we need a red flag.”

“pitting doesn’t make sense right now, you’ll come out in traffic and your race will be over.”

“i care more about making it out of this race alive than coming out in traffic.”

“understood.”

✿

✿

“they couldn’t have taken any longer with that red flag could they?” you snapped as you pulled your race suit down to your hips.

“no they really couldn’t have! it was getting ridiculous out there.” pierre grabbed his water bottle, "driving couldn't have been more dangerous."

“alright you two! thats enough!" your team principal interrupted, looking very serious. "we have a real chance of keeping this double podium finish especially because george and lando pitted before this red flag and lost a lot of time," he explained. "y/n, you’re going to have to push, there’s not much chance you’ll be able to keep max behind you but we’ve got to be fast enough to keep george, charles and lando behind pierre.”

right... keep 3 of the fastest drivers on the grid behind you both.. you were going to need a real stroke of luck.

✿

alpinef1team has made a post

liked by yourbff, yoursibling, ynupdates, rubendias, jackhughes, robmcelhenney, and 843,124 others

alpinef1team: THEY DID IT!!! Y/N AND PIERRE CROSS THE LINE AS P2 AND P3! HISTORY MADE

✿

"thats p2 y/n - great job! the entire team and i are so fcking proud of you."

"AHHH YES YESSSSSSS!!!!" you screamed into the radio, banging your hands against the steering wheel, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT JAMES!!" the emotions hit you like a brick wall, and tears quickly began falling. "thank you all so much. thank you for this opportunity. thank you to the mechanics, to everyone back at the factory, to every single one of you. thank you for believing in me when no one else did."

"you're welcome, y/n. you deserve it. you deserve it all kid."

pierre rolled up next to you to drive the remainder of the cool down lap by your side. he waved excitedly and you waved back without hesitation - you both had achieved what felt like the impossible.

you were the first woman to ever stand up on the podium and you were the first woman to score points in formula 1, but you knew you certainly weren't going to be the last. if you would do anything with your remaining races, it would be to show the world just how much women belong in this sport.

you pulled into parc ferme and shut off your car as quickly as you could. you fumbled with your straps and when you finally got them off, pierre was standing above you with his hand held out. you smiled, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull you out of the car. "we did it, p -" you said just loud enough for him to hear over the cheering.

"we did it, y/n/n." pierre replied and with that, you both turned and ran hand in hand to your team who was waiting with open arms to greet their heroes.

✿

ynuser has made a post

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, pierregasly, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 943,124 others

ynuser: we did it 🩷 thank you to alpine for believing in me, thank you to pierre for being the best teammate a girl could ask for, thank you to my friends and family for supporting me through the ups and the downs and thank you to my fans -- i love you all so much

view all 999 comments

user1: i've never shed so many tears over a race before

yourbff: i feel like a proud parent rn

ynuser: thanks for never giving up on me bestie

georgerussell63: you're a force to be reckoned with y/n. congratulations on an impressive drive! today is your day 🤍

ynuser: mark your calendars! 11/3 is national y/n day

landonorris: speechless... i am so proud of you. if someone had to be up there besides me, i'm so glad it was you 😉

ynuser: thank you lanny. only thing that would have made it better is if you were with me up there 🩷

user10: tea LOL

francisca.cgomes: i dont think i've ever been happier?? my two favorite people are on that podium?

ynuser: stop dont make me cry agAIN

pierregasly: thankful for you mon ami

ynuser: 🤍🩷

lewishamilton: being a barrier breaker is never easy y/n but you are crushing it. i am proud to race with you!

ynuser: you have no idea how much this means to me lewis

user9: thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to prove everyone wrong

user95: nothing could have prepared me for 1) them running hand and hand to their team, 2) y/n crying tears of joy on the podium and 3) gr63 picking y/n up and twirling her around in parc ferme

user2: george and y/n were so cute it was actually sickening. did you see the way he fixed her hair after putting her down

user95: and how he wiped away her tears??? yeah i saw it 🥹

user2: i want them together so bad

user10: you are going down in the history books

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thank you for reading!!! likes, feedback and reblogs are welcome!! massively appreciate all of the support on this little series. i am really enjoying it too

tag list from part 1: @yawn-zi @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @divagreymare @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ferakillia @stressed-cherry @sassyangel16 @mxdi0 @awritingtree @danielricciardoslut3 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @seasonswinter @rawr-123s-stuff @grussellsprout @belncaldern @ellelabelle @rafeyybabyy

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[save-our-life]

Amidst the destruction, there are still small moments of peace. 🕊️ My cat 🐱 reminds me that even in the darkest times, there’s always something to hold onto. 💫

A smile 🙂 hides the struggles we face daily in Gaza, but our strength remains. 💪

We continue to hope for a better future 🌱, even when the present feels so uncertain. 🌧️

Even in times of war ⚔️, we stay resilient. The weight of the world 🌍 is heavy, but we push forward, standing tall with hope in our hearts. ❤️

Life After the Destruction of My Home 🏚️💔

My life took an unimaginable turn when my home was bombed and reduced to ruins. 🏠💥 The place I once called home, where I shared countless memories with my family, is now nothing but rubble. 🧱

Walls that used to protect us have crumbled, and every corner of the house is filled with shattered dreams and broken belongings. 🖼️🪑💔

Now, I live in a tent, trying to make sense of the pieces of my life that are left. ⛺💔 The cold nights ❄️ and the hot days 🌞 make every moment in this tent a struggle.

There is no comfort, no privacy, and no sense of safety. 🥀 Every day, I wake up hoping for peace 🕊️, for a chance to rebuild, but right now, that hope seems distant.

This experience has taught me about the fragility of life. 💔 I never imagined that in a blink of an eye, everything I had could be taken away. 🌪️ Living in this tent ⛺ is a daily reminder of what was lost, and yet, it is also a reminder to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult the path may seem.

But amidst all the destruction, I remain hopeful. 🌱 Hopeful that one day, I will have a home again 🏠, where my family can live in peace 🕊️, free from fear and destruction. 🌈

Dear friends and supporters,

My life changed forever when my home was destroyed in the recent bombings. 💥🏚️

Everything I once had - my home, my belongings, and my sense of security - has been reduced to rubble. 🧱 Today, I live in a tent ⛺, trying to survive day by day in harsh conditions. 🌧️ With no permanent shelter, and limited resources, I face an uncertain future. 🌍

I am reaching out to you for help. 🤝 Any contribution, no matter how small, will bring me one step closer to rebuilding my life and finding a place where I can feel safe again. 🏠 Your generosity will provide me with the basics I need to survive and start over. ����

Please share my story and help me spread the word by sharing this link with your network. 📲 Together, we can turn this devastating situation into a chance to rebuild and restore hope. 🌱

Thank you for your kindness and support during these difficult times. ❤️

@paper-mario-wiki @90-ghost @wayneradiotv @sayruq @womanaction @wellwaterhysteria @writerqueenofjewels @gazavetters @routeriver @anneemay-blog @appsa @the-eldritch-it-gay @thebibi @thosemotivationalquotes @the-bastard-king @designmycatastrophe

@a-shade-of-blue @bilal-salah0 @dlxxv-vetted-donations

@nesmamomen

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

my palms ran red turning over jagged rocks, thought i'd find some kind of sign; you pressed your mouth to my wound, weren't your bloody lips sign enough?

qh43 x reader: you really have to stop meeting like this.

(warnings: mostly plot, but also blasphemous filth (yes, we're back on the smut train), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (i haven't changed), choking (i really haven't changed), descriptions of self-doubt and shame and all my typical stuff. mostly tension building (10k words worth), general debauchery.  please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: oh my god, favorites. i hadn't read this one in so long, so thank you for allowing me an avenue to rediscover it. i'm so happy you're getting to rediscover it now, too. if you want a song to listen to that i think goes with this story really well, give BONES! by girly teeth club a try :) i do genuinely believe that this story was a real turning point for me, and it holds a very special place in my heart because of that (i had the line then who was i praying to? well, who answered? taped to my computer for a long, long time. personal favorite of mine). i hope you enjoy this one again, and also hello to the followers and readers who have no idea what i'm talking about when i bitch and moan about my old account. i see you, and i love you, and i'm so eager to hear what you think. enjoy mechanic qh43 and all of the mythical divine powers that he inspires within me. to the seven people who care, more ol and rus coming momentarily. sunday is now my designated tumblr day, so if you want to chat, sunday is your best bet. i love you and your snakes! be kind to yourself).

like most all-consuming things, it started with something insignificant.

if your tail light had never gone out during the summer before your third year at university, perhaps none of it would have ever happened. part of you wanted to believe that some determined power would have guided the two of you together no matter what, but most of you thought the powers of the world to be nonchalant at best, hostile at worst.

regardless, your right tail light went out a few weeks before school started, and despite your intense unwillingness to spend money on your car, your mom insisted that you get it fixed.

"that family auto shop will do it quickly," she suggested, "the one a few streets down from school."

so here you were, standing uncomfortably in the lobby of the mechanic's, less than soothed by the harsh noises that echoed through the small garage.

you cleared your throat, attempting to get the attention of the teenage receptionist, probably the daughter or cousin of the owner, currently on her phone.

she looked up immediately, smiled wide, full of braces and friendliness. "sorry," she said, only a little guilty to be caught on her phone. "how can i help you?"

you smiled right back at her, immediately put at ease by her presence. "my mom called earlier," you said. you went to continue, but were enthusiastically cut off.

"miss tail light!" she exclaimed, to which you laughed and nodded. "have a seat," she urged, "quinn should be out in a minute, and that's a quick fix."

you nodded and sat down, then crossed your legs as you waited, bouncing one foot against your other calf. you looked at your hands, twisted one ring around your finger.

"you're the tail light?" a low voice called from the lobby entrance, forcing your gaze up from your hands to meet a pair of eyes that somehow swam with both steel and uncertainty.

this newcomer, quinn, supposedly, confirmed by the embroidered patch on his breast pocket, seemed to be immediately off-put by your matching gaze, as he shoved his wide hands in the pockets of his coveralls and blinked several times, a bit too fast.

his confusing mannerisms, combined with his curious combination of handsomeness and beauty, forced a small smile to your face as you stood up.

he really was pretty like you had never quite seen before, tall but not menacingly so, broad across the chest in a way that just looked warm, his coveralls hanging off of him, drawing attention to his frame, his thighs, his arms.

his hair was messy, curling only slightly at the tops of his ears, his cheekbones and jawline so, so sharp, but his nose and mouth softly curved.

you cleared your throat again when you realized you were probably staring.

"i suppose i am," you said, answering his question, approaching him and the door, by extension.

he gave a forced nod before turning to leave, urging a fluid reaction from the muscles in his neck and shoulders, which you pretended not to notice as you walked behind him.

in a choppy, sudden motion, he made to hold the door open for you, arm extended but gaze averted.

"thank you, quinn," you said, trying out his name, surprised to find how natural it felt on your tongue, something like a hymn a past-life you must have sang with unmatched conviction.

he seemed just as surprised as you, practically tripped over his own feet before quickly recovering. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh.

"should only take a second," he said as he crouched down next to your car, his voice a bit rougher than before, pulling a couple of tools and bulbs from his many pockets.

"take your time," you said, sitting down nearby as he got to work, and you meant it, feeling a somewhat shameful urge to just watch him. just look at him.

you fumbled to distract yourself, settling on looking interested in your phone. in reality, it took real effort to keep your eyes down, away from him, when you felt as if he emitted some kind of magnetic force suited only to you.

it felt like an eternity, but it took all of ten minutes, a couple swift motions, and he was done, rising again to his full height and turning to face you.

you allowed yourself to meet his eyes and it felt like a heaving exhale. "all done?" you asked, rising as well, willing brightness into your voice.

he nodded in affirmation, and you could have pouted. a man of few words, it seemed, and how you wished he would give you a few more.

he wiped his hands with a rag, and you refused to let your eyes follow the motion. "so i should pay..." you started.

he nodded towards the lobby. "you can pay with bean," he said, gruff.

you grinned right at him, and anyone else would have seen his gaze soften from stone to molten rock. "bean?" you asked.

the slightest smile took over his mouth. "my cousin," he said, slowly, "at reception."

you hummed, comforted by his sudden ease. "well then," you said, "i'll go check out with your cousin bean."

"i'll walk you," he blurted out, a blush coming to tint the tops of his ears in a positively dreamy sort of way.

so you walked the several steps back to the lobby together, the silence so comfortable you could have sighed, fallen asleep wrapped up in it.

already you felt some sense of loss creeping in, knowing you were probably never going to see him again, knowing this was all you were going to get. just a couple of glances and words and blushes, that's as far as this would go. and it made a lot of sense, but logical reason grew over your hazy, momentary crush like ivy on a brick building.

he held the door open for you again, and as you walked past him this time you looked up into his eyes. stone and steel and ivy.

you thanked him again.

"quinn?" came that delightfully girlish voice from behind the desk, this time intensely confused. "what are you doing?"

he stood in the door frame, his swallow almost cartoonish. "just making sure she checks out okay," he mumbled, not quite looking anyone in the face.

the girl smiled so wide, you could see she had chosen to make her braces purple last time she visited the orthodontist. "you've never done that before, is all," she observed with all the subtlety of a volcanic eruption.

was that pink tint creeping past his ears to his neck, now?

"do it plenty," he muttered, less than convincing and more to himself than anyone else.

the girl shot you a knowing look before turning to her cousin again. "if you say so," she relented. "miss tail light is in good hands with me, now, so you're all set, mr. random acts of kindness."

quinn muttered something under his breath before making to leave, embarrassment still flushing just under his collar.

the knowledge that this was it, this was all this would ever be, that's what made you reach a hand out to lightly grasp his forearm, stopping him where he stood.

you swore some kind of divine warmth rose to meet your hand.

he looked down at where your fingers met his arm before meeting your gaze. molten, yet again. he didn't move, didn't dare to scare off your touch.

"thank you again, quinn," you said, just to him.

a pause charged by meaning sparked between you both.

maybe some minuscule fraction of your heart feared he would push you away and roll his eyes, mumble something about personal space. or maybe that disgust would flood his lovely gaze, and he would say something much meaner.

you should never have touched him, you scolded yourself, stupid, desperate, foolish girl. you began to lift your hand away when his rough voice became a whisper, just for you.

"anything, doll," he said. and then he walked away, leaving his words to rattle around in your head like the whirring noises around the garage.

you paid, laughed playfully with the young receptionist as she insisted she had never seen her cousin so embarrassed, and especially not so bashful.

"i'm sure that's not true," you said, trying in vain to force your sky-rocketing hopes back to earth.

"oh, it is," she said as you made to leave, giving you a big smile and a wave as you bid her goodbye.

as you drove back home, those tendrils of reason crept back again, began to suffocate the dreamy romance that had settled like a glittery mist in your head.

you gave a single exhale, breathing out any unrealistic expectations. you'd probably never see him again, you admitted to yourself, and you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it.

and so you let the image of steel and stone and ivy become a phantom in the back of your mind, along with the scorching solidity of his forearm underneath your delicate palm.

you'd never see him again, you believed.

in theory, you knew you could have had one of your friends find him on social media, it probably wouldn't have been too hard. a first name, an occupation, they'd tracked down fleeting flings and past crushes with much less information to go off of before.

but you didn't like the idea of interference, much preferred the way he looked in your memory to the fear that he would be someone very different online, that he would be someone different than the person that now existed exclusively in your head.

you were never supposed to see him again, and yet you did, and just as you had almost forgotten the way his shoulders moved when he walked, too.

three weeks later, just before you went back to school, you were eating dinner outside with your family at the country club they belonged to. you had been there maybe twice in the last couple of years, as your mom worked long hours and your dad only really used his membership for golf.

now, though, sitting outside, overlooking the course, in the pleasant air of the late summer, you were glad you were here, enjoying these last few moments with your family before you began your third year.

you were laughing at a joke your mom had made when you heard someone close by call out, "that's my marker, quinn!"

something distant fluttered in your stomach as you registered the name, tried so hard to not care if it was him or not. trying so, so hard to not care, but you cared so much it felt as if you might have willed him into existence yourself, wanted him enough that even the uninterested powers were forced to relent with a bored sigh.

so, in truth, you knew it was him even before you turned and focused on the hole just below the patio.

you knew it was him, and yet you were wholly unprepared for the way your head spun when you registered his familiar figure.

as if compelled by your gaze, or by something else worth worshipping, he turned, too, and there you were, staring at each other. did he recognize you the way you did him? the way you recognize your first lover's cologne? the way you recognize what's waiting behind a door with a scalding doorknob?

but then he took a hand off of his club and gave a timid wave, and you felt your body relax as you waved back. he paused for a moment as if in thought, then motioned towards him, silently asking you to come down.

"who is that?" your mother asked, not critical, only curious.

"my mechanic," you answered, "be right back, promise."

so, even though it was probably (definitely) against the rules, you made your way down to the impeccably cut grass, holding your shoes in one shaky hand.

you waved again as you approached him at the edge of the green, his friends gathered closer to the hole, talking animatedly amongst themselves.

he tilted his head and gave you a small smile, which gave you wings. a smile, and you hadn't even done anything!

"hi, quinn," you said, getting your first good look at him up close, and this time not in coveralls. this time in a polo that brought out his eyes and shorts that had you straining not to stare at his thighs.

"doll," he greeted, that ghost of a smile still on his full lips. "thought that was you."

heavy uncertainty suddenly settled between the both of you. what were you supposed to say? what was he supposed to say? what do you do with time that feels stolen?

"didn't think i'd see you again," you landed on, then physically cringed at yourself. "not that i was thinking about you, or anything," you added, then pursed your lips in a line.

awesome save.

he let out a laugh, though, and it shook his shoulders and lit up his face in a way that made it impossible to regret your rambling.

his laugh made him look human in a way he hadn't really, before, at the garage. it stripped back all the flowery expectations your imagination had buried him in and set him down here, in front of you, a real person.

a real person, who, in this summery light, was much more unabashed and generous with his smiles. his eyes had a softness to them that you hadn't noticed before.

"i wish you had, then," he said, in that deep, low, voice with a confidence that didn't quite suit him, like he was just trying it on.

it almost made you drop your shoes, regardless.

"yeah?" you asked, tilting your head and letting your satisfaction drench your face like sunset light.

he gave a little nod.

"c'mon, huggy!" one of his friends called. what do you do with time that feels stolen?

he looked back at them and his jaw clenched, for a second.

you knew you had to be the one to walk away, or it would haunt you like some ancestral debt.

"maybe i'll see you again, then, quinn," you said, your tone not conveying the desperate hope you felt.

he looked you up and down, amusement alight in his eyes. it seemed his nervous demeanor existed only in his coveralls. "you willing to take your chances on a 'maybe,' doll?"

were you?

you silently begged those distant forces to prove your hopes were not futile, but you didn't really believe that. you were headed to school in just two days, and who knows where he was headed, this mysterious mechanic who liked to golf and had eyes like a deity.

you knew you were on stolen time, and that this, again, was as far as this would ever go.

"we're going!" his friends called.

"i hope i see you again, quinn," you amended, already feeling a sense of loss again. but you had to be the one to walk away, so you began to.

his face was unreadable, some mixture of disappointment and interest and knowing.

"think about me some more this time, yeah? until you see me again?"

your smile glowed. "if 'm honest, quinn, that'll be hard," you said, thinking about how he had been a constant in your mind for the last couple of weeks. you leaned into your flirtatious side since you were both moving apart. it was always easiest when you were on the way out.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "try extra hard for me, would you, doll?"

and for a moment, time seemed to ooze like amber. a blink felt like eternity, like you were both suspended in an hourglass.

"promise," you said. it came out like a whisper, but it felt like you screamed it across an open expanse.

and so you parted ways a second time, practically daring the universe to stop you from meeting again.

do whatever you want, universe, you seemed to say, i don't care! i'm fine with the story ending here!

oh, sweetheart, the universe seemed to say, yawning, barely looking at you, then why do you clutch at the book until your fingers bleed?

you could have scowled.

and, just as he wanted, and just as you were afraid of, he was there, in the back of your mind, for several weeks into the school year.

everything started smoothly. you were happy to see your friends again, to be living with them. classes started well. you went out when you wanted to. you began your regular job, tutoring other students in classes you had already taken. it was nice to see the students you had helped out last year, to continue helping them.

teachers referred you to help students who were struggling in their classes all the time, so it wasn't anything significant when one set up a time for you to meet at the library with someone who wasn't quite getting intro to calculus.

it was significant, however, when you opened up the reserved study room door to see quinn sitting at the table, textbooks out in front of him.

so significant, actually, that it genuinely scared you. "jesus," you muttered, exhaling and placing a calming hand over your heart.

he looked up when he heard the door open, and you were frozen in place.

this is what you wanted, right? the universe probably asked, bored. now will you leave me alone?

"i was not expecting you," you admitted, willing your heart back to beating normally.

you couldn't read him, yet again. and yet again, you felt as if you had wanted him hard enough that even the fibers of the universe were annoyed enough to comply.

ugh, they probably said to each other, just give that desperate fool what she wants! i'm tired of hearing her pleas!

but you could have sighed at how beautiful he looked, this time different again - sweatpants and a t-shirt and messy hair. soft looking and sleepy after a day of class and whatever else.

"yeah?" he asked, although he hadn't expected you either. he wasn't shocked the way you were, though. only pleasantness played across his full features. "who were you expecting?"

not you, you wanted to say. things just don't work out like this for me. "i didn't know you went here," you said, simply.

"i didn't know you were a tutor," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

i didn't know your smile gets lopsided when you're tired, you thought to yourself. you could never forget that, now.

"safe to say we know very little about each other, doll," he added, as if he could hear your thoughts.

and he was right - you hadn't asked him anything about himself the last two times you saw him, and he didn't know anything about you. how easy would it have been at the course to say you were going to the local university in a couple of days. why had you not?

why had you relinquished control so easily?

it practically pained you to think about that, just as it was practically painful to look at his face head on, eyes weary with sleep yet bright with amusement, so you decided to solve both of those problems.

"well," you said, sliding into the seat next to him at the table, excruciatingly aware of your closeness, "what do you know about derivatives?"

he gave a huff of a laugh. "probably even less," he said.

you gave him a smile and started to go over your notes with him. the more you spoke, and the deeper you got into the topic, the easier it was to be close to him.

you were still hyperaware of his warmth, his presence, his beauty, his being, but you could do this. getting lost in your purpose here instead of getting lost in him.

after about an hour of you explaining derivatives, you looking at your notes, and him looking at you, you shut your textbook.

"i think that's good for a first session, hm?" you asked, turning to face him and hugging one knee to your chest.

he held your gaze as if studying your face. it felt like being center stage, under a white hot spotlight.

he spread his legs out and reached his arms up, stretching after sitting in the same position for a while. you had to look down at your hands.

"five more minutes?" he asked like a kid begging for an extended bedtime. only now he was asking for more time with you.

you scrunched up your nose, which made him smile, a bit. "can i ask you a question, quinn?" you asked. "since we don't know anything about each other."

"only if i get one, too," he answered.

you thought carefully, flexed your hand on your knee as your gaze met his sleepy one. "it's not that late," you started, "why are you so tired?"

he laughed again, making your chest sing. "busy day," he answered, "had two classes, practice, and a lift."

and as he elaborated you added to the carefully protected vault in your mind of information you knew about him. he played hockey for the team here, he was a defensemen, he was always busy.

"my turn," he said after he was done, low like a secret.

you nodded, forced away the flush his tone alone was able to pull from you.

"did you keep your promise?" he asked.

of everything he could have said, you were least expecting that. of course you knew what promise he was referring to immediately. of course it felt like something abominable to tell him the truth.

suddenly the space between the two of you felt much too little, much too dangerous. so small that you could see each of his eyelashes, he could see the way your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second.

there was something in his eyes that surprised you, though. there was a trace of those nerves you had seen in him that first day - that instability and uncertainty. he wanted you to say yes, you realized. he wanted it so, so much.

"of course i did, quinn," you soothed, leaning forward onto your knee just a bit. it was always easiest on the way out. "did you have any doubts?"

did he let out a breath? his silence spoke for him. still, you had to be the one to walk away. you couldn't afford any more ghosts.

"same time next week?" you asked, gathering your things.

"not gonna leave it to chance this time, doll?" he asked, getting his things together too, but in a lazy sort of way. his hands moved slowly, reluctantly.

you tried not to stare at them.

you gave him a last look before you left.

"do you want to leave it to chance?" you asked, genuinely.

ugh, chance seemed to say, can't you just do it yourself?

his molten gaze dripped over you like honey. "no," he decided, "no, i wouldn't say that's at the top of my wishlist."

you didn't ask what was.

so, each tuesday night, you tutored him in calculus. and each tuesday night, you learned more about him, and he learned more about you.

you learned about how he got into auto mechanics (he never grew out of his childhood truck phase), why he liked golf (really just an excuse to talk with his friends for a couple of hours), what was so special about hockey (it felt like he could see things that others just couldn't). his favorite candy (sour skittles), his favorite color gatorade (red), his favorite t-shirt (a worn in concert shirt from high school).

but you also learned that he got shy when you complimented him, that he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek when he was about to say something that made you blush, that he got more confident as he got to know you.

his nerves only came out when he grew unsure, and you did your best to make him so, so sure.

and he did get to know you. how you got into your major (data analysis was the family business), why you applied yourself so vigorously in your classes (you didn't know any other way), all about your close friends and family. your favorite soda (cherry coke zero), your favorite frat (pike, only because a couple of your friends were dating brothers there, and they had the goofiest themes), your favorite snack (pretzel goldfish).

he was nothing if not observant, too, so he noticed that you had a special smile for when he got a question right, and that you only wore your hair up when you were extra tired, and that, towards the end of the session, when you were caught off guard, you would lean a little closer to him without realizing.

that was his favorite. when you would lean into his space, just a little more, as if you were pulled towards him by a magnetic force.

and each session, you made him a little more confident, and he made you blush a little bit more. until you both felt utterly comfortable with each other, like you had known each other for ages.

well, as comfortable as you could feel with a person who made you feel like every inch of your skin was on fire. as comfortable as you could feel with someone whose voice made your throat go dry, whose hands made you stutter, whose mannerisms made your stomach flutter.

one tuesday night, late into a session where he had told you he had passed his quiz with flying colors, he twisted his pen in his hand.

"you know, doll," he started, "you should come to a game sometime."

you looked up. "one of your games?" you asked, searching his steely eyes for meaning.

his lip quirked. "yes, one of my games."

here, he might as well have said, have a little more of me.

"unless you don't want to," he added to your silence. "which would also be fine. i don't want to force-"

you stopped him with a hand on his forearm, transporting you both back to that first day. did you imagine him relaxing into your touch, this time?

"i'd love to come," you said, looking him square in the face.

"good," he replied, content.

but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited you that friday night, standing with your friends in the student section of the rink you had never been to.

"how have we never been to a hockey game?" one of them asked, looking around at the crowd.

"basketball's just better," another said, although, to be fair, she was on the club basketball team. "what the hell is icing, anyways?"

"we never had a reason to, i guess," your best friend said in a teasing tone. you shot her a look, to which she raised her hands in surrender. "hey, no judgement," she said, and you laughed.

as soon as quinn was on the ice, though, he had your complete and undivided attention. he skated with a mesmerizing fluidity, hit with a concrete, undeniable kind of force. and he was right - he did see things no one else could see, made connections that you, nor anyone on the ice, could predict until they were already completed.

he was all over the ice, all over this space, he was everywhere. and you were transfixed.

walking back to the house with your friends, they noticed. of course they did.

"oh god, i know that look," one said.

"this is gonna be trouble," another added. was this trouble? was trouble when everything someone did felt like some great treasure you had discovered? was trouble this kind of fire, of comfort, of excitement, of rest?

you shook your head. "calm down, guys," you said. "it's not that serious."

"right," someone said. you didn't believe yourself, either.

"what did you think of the game?" he asked the following tuesday after you had covered enough material to be satisfied.

you were so close to him now, it probably would have been easier to just share a chair. so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could all but feel his chest against your back.

"what did i think of the game?" you repeated lazily.

you could hear his smile in his voice. "yes, doll."

you hummed. how honest could you be, here? what could you get away with?

and maybe it was your closeness to him that made you bold. maybe it was the heat you saw in his eyes that had you leaning your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. you felt his breath rumble through him and into you.

the air sparked.

"thought you were incredible, quinn," you said honestly. "like nothing i've ever seen."

his exhale was shaky as he peered down at you. "yeah?" he asked.

"mhm," you hummed, your body buzzing with his contact, the most you had ever had. something unspoken settled between you like dust.

"you would come again, then?" he asked, hopeful but drowsy.

you couldn't help but smile, a bit, gaze up at him through your lashes. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you, if 'm honest."

something like wonder misted across his heated gaze. "i like knowing you're there," he said. "like knowing you're thinking about me."

dangerous desire swirled around the two of you, melting your gaze and blurring the lines.

things don't work out like this for you, a voice said, bitter and mocking, drawing the lines up again, sturdy and menacing.

you cleared your throat, lifted your head from his shoulder. if you could look at him, you would have seen that uncertainty swimming in his eyes again, along with something like hurt.

but you couldn't look at him. at the drowsy slouch of his shoulders, the rugged line of his jaw, the glossy want that practically dripped down his face like starry tears.

i'm always thinking about you, you wanted to tell him. i'm sorry.

but you gathered your things, stood up. "i should go."

he was silent for a moment, looked you up and down, gave a small sigh. "okay, doll," he conceded. "on one condition."

you scrunched up your nose in confusion.

"you agree to come golfing with me tomorrow," he said in a completely satisfied tone. "then, you can go."

a million excuses flooded onto your tongue.

"i'm busy tomorrow," you tried, your voice coming out tight.

he waved that off lazily. "me too," he said, something like a smirk growing on his pink lips. "but we're both free at four, so let's plan on that. next?"

you sputtered.

"but i don't know how to golf," you tried.

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. trouble.

"don't worry, doll," he offered. "i'll go real slow for you."

you flushed, almost walked into the doorframe, quickly decided you needed to leave immediately, if you wanted to maintain any level of mystery or dignity.

"fine," you said, already on your way out. it felt like flames were nipping at your heels, biting at your nose. "i'll come."

his smirk deepened, a different look on him. "don't put up much of a fight, do you, doll?"

"i'm leaving," you choked as you walked out, turning to face him one final time. "what if i just didn't want to come?"

he seemed to ponder this for a moment. "i think," he started, "if you really didn't want to come, it wouldn't make you blush like this to say so."

he didn't ask you to think about him, but by the look on his face, you knew he could tell he didn't have to.

so, the following day, you found yourself on the course with quinn.

a terrible, terrible idea, really.

especially considering the want that filled his gaze when he first saw you, catching on your legs before returning up to your eyes.

"showed up for me, did you, doll?" he asked, a hope you recognized tinting his voice a shimmery pink.

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. "you knew i would."

"thank you anyways," he replied, and his genuineness, his honesty, his straightforwardness, it all made you melt. made you want to know what his smile felt like against your neck, what his hands felt like in your hair.

so, as you both made to tee off, you turned to him. "can you help me with my swing, please?"

his gaze softened. liquid steel. "sure, doll," he said, then lined up next to you and explained his way through it.

you bit your lip. "i'm a hands on learner," you said, which was a lie. "i think i need you closer." that part wasn't.

he didn't adopt a cocky smirk, like so many would have. he didn't lean into your act, didn't pounce on the opportunity to show his superiority. he only approached you from behind and reached his arms around you to grip your driver with you, his hands on top of yours, warm and rough.

you could feel each breath he took in your back, felt the solid plane of his chest on your shoulder blades.

"close enough?" he all but whispered into the space between your neck and your shoulder.

something sinful must have possessed you then. "for now," you breathed out.

he went through a swing with you, slow and fluid. you weren't paying attention, not really, but how could you, when he was just so, so close? was this dazed sensation, was that what he felt when you touched him, that first day? or later, in your study room?

but, of course, the swing was soon over, and he reluctantly retreated off to the side.

"your turn, doll," he said.

you took a breath to shake the phantom of his embrace away, then teed off - beautifully straight and hard, arcing through the air like a physics textbook problem.

you looked at him to find a knowing, teasing look on his face. he ran a hand through his hair, displacing the curling ends as he gave a quick laugh.

you smiled. "call me a natural," you offered, shrugging.

"oh yeah?" he said, tilting his head. "how about i call you a liar?"

you leaned forward onto the end of your driver, grin widening. "how about i call you gullible?"

he shook his head, let out a playful scoff. "like you'd ever have to trick me into touching you."

the rest of the round went by quickly, both of your guards down, lost in conversation and high on each other. too soon, it was over.

it was this realization that urged you to act uncharacteristically - in that, you acted according to what you truly felt.

"can i see you tomorrow?" you asked him as he loaded your clubs into the trunk of your car. you didn't cringe as much as you would have a few weeks ago.

he wiped his hands on his shorts, looked at you with something that looked like relief. "think i'd have a hard time saying no to you," he parroted. his ability to remember things about you warmed you from the inside out.

"meet me at the sig nu party tomorrow?" you asked hopefully. "maybe you can meet some of my friends?"

he looked truly touched. "some of the guys are going already since we don't have a morning lift on friday," he said, "so you could meet some of them, too, if you want."

you nodded, flushed with expectation. "see you then," you said, making to get in your car. "and yes, i'll think about you."

his smile as you shut your door was something of dreams.

sigma nu was not one of your favorite frats. their basement was especially dirty looking, their brothers were on the sketchier side, and the never seemed to have enough alcohol to make it through the night.

but one of your friends was talking to one of the brothers, who also played club basketball. so you and the rest of your group were going for moral support. and also because no one else was throwing. it was only a thursday.

you were nervous. you had only just begun to accept that you were really, really into quinn, and you had only just begun to accept that he might, possibly, probably, be just as into you.

it still didn't make much logical sense to you. when had it ever been so simple?

don't talk about logical sense around me, chance would say, that bitch knows what she did.

when you first saw quinn across the crowded room, chance and logical sense and all those divine powers, they all melted away.

it was just him. his hair was messy and his gaze was relaxed and the lights made it look like his face was glowing as he laughed with his friends.

but the crowd got the better of you, for a little while. you danced with your friends, politely escaped several "so, what's your major?" conversations, and actually spent a while talking to your friend's new talking stage.

as you laughed at something, you were internally surprised. this guy seemed perfect for your friend - they shared so many interests, and he was able to laugh at himself easily, which was something that was at the top of her priority list.

after a while of learning enough about him to approve of him graduating from the talking stage, you looked up. of course your gaze was immediately drawn to quinn, closer than you had seen him last.

closer, and yet farther than he had ever been, because he was leaning against the wall, talking to another girl.

you couldn't really see the girl, but it wouldn't have really mattered. it wasn't about her. she was just a girl talking to a guy at a party. a guy who was, in all technical senses, single and available.

it was more so about him, and how close he was to her, how he leaned down to hear her, meaning she could probably smell his all-but-worn-off cologne.

your grip tightened on your red cup as you swallowed.

before, quinn had only ever been yours, because even when you doubted that he could ever return your feelings, he had never given you concrete evidence that he was interested in anyone else. so even though he hadn't been yours, he had been almost yours, probably going to be yours, or something like that.

but here he was, giving you concrete proof that he existed to others, too, that other people could be interested in him and he could be interested back.

and of course that had always been the case. how could you have been so narcissistic? of course people would foster crushes on him, like you did, and of course he was bound to reciprocate eventually, to someone.

you had let yourself believe that you were the center of the world for a moment, of his world, and you hated that.

so, honestly, it was barely even about quinn. this struggle, this was about you.

but if you stripped back everything external, oh, how downright jealous you felt right then.

so jealous that you had to leave, that you couldn't watch anymore. when you got home, you shut the door and exhaled.

what did i tell you? that bitter voice said, things just don't work out that way for you.

you could have growled, now, at how lazy, how self-centered that sounded.

don't look at me, chance would have said, hands raised in surrender, this was all you.

he was just talking to another girl, logical reason would say, that doesn't mean he's not interested in you. you have what, a couple months of history?

and of course reason would be right. of course, you knew, deep down, you didn't have to let this consume you.

but now a tendril of doubt had woven its way into your heart. if you had been so misled by your own ego before, how could you tell if any of it was real? how could you trust yourself to know if this wasn't much more to you than it was to him?

time. you needed some time.

thankfully, that was doable. you went home for break on friday after class, and planned to stay there for the week.

so you stayed home, caught up with your parents, ignored his numerous texts.

it hurt to do so, but you told yourself you needed some distance.

which wasn't that hard, considering he was playing a series of games across the country. you still put on his games though, which your parents noticed.

"didn't even know we got this channel," you dad observed one night as you watched quinn stickhandle around a sloppy winger.

"when did you get into hockey?" you mom asked, never critical. "we could go see a game sometime, if you want."

you started to settle down a bit, really enjoyed the time at home. before you knew it, though, break was almost over.

"sweetheart," you mom called to you on your second to last day, "would you mind taking the car in?"

you were skeptical. "why?"

"they just called," she explained, "said we're due for an urgent oil change."

you thought it was weird that they would call for that, but quinn was supposedly still away, so you figured it wouldn't be that much of an issue.

"sure," you responded. "i'll bring it in now."

you knew it was a trap as soon as you opened your car door at the garage.

the young receptionist approached you quickly with a guilty smile.

"hi, miss bean," you said, trying to gauge what she was about to say.

"look," she rushed, "i didn't want to, and i'm thought the plan was stupid, and i'm sure you're ignoring him for good reason-"

you sighed, knowing what was coming. having walked right into it. "i'm not, really," you stopped her, then felt the need to clarify. "it's not really a good reason."

"what is it, then?" that low voice asked from your side, and everyone else disappeared.

just him, standing there, looking the same as you had last seen him, but so, so different.

the same, because he was just as lovely as you last recalled. was it insensitive to say that he wore his weariness beautifully?

so different, because he just looked so tired. his coveralls did little to hide the slight slouch in his shoulders. a subtle stubble now shadowed his face, making his jaw sharper. and his eyes. that steely stone that had occupied your mind all this time - it was cracking, desperate for something to hang on to.

"just needed some distance," you mustered. you were jarred by his appearance, by being close to him again, just the two of you.

"yeah?" he looked you up and down, that desperate disappointment now running down your figure. there was no malice in his tone. "why, doll? so you can say you were right?" you could have hissed. "so you can go on knowing everything went exactly as you told yourself it would?"

things like this don't work out for you. who had been telling you that, again?

you sucked on your teeth, had no idea what to say. what do you say to someone that sees right through you? the pause settled like sludge. "i thought you were away," you eventually whispered, ignoring his question.

he ran a hand through his hair, let all his grief flood into his eyes. "and i thought it would be a lot harder for you to forget me," he said, "so i guess we're both at a loss."

you took a step forward, then stopped yourself, almost dizzy. "you actually think i would forget you?" you breathed, practically choking on your words.

he scoffed. "what was i supposed to think?" he rubbed his palm against the back of his neck. "i think everything is going well when you ask me to come to this party, then you spend the whole time talking to some other guy-"

your brow furrowed before you understood. "my friend's new boyfriend," you interrupted. to his confusion, you clarified. "i was talking to my friend's boyfriend."

he blinked, registered this information, appeared a bit lighter. "regardless," he sighed, "you were supposed to be talking to me, doll."

"hold on," you said, the memory of jealousy seeping into your bloodstream, "you were talking to someone else, too, quinn." you crossed your arms, images flashing in your mind of him leaning down, his ear much too close to her lips. "and i don't think that was your friend's girlfriend, unless they're trying out an open relationship."

"i just-" he gave a frustrated gesture, looked down at his feet for a moment.

"you what?" you pressed.

he sighed, now flushed. "i just wanted you to look at me."

you both were silent for a beat as you processed his words. you exhaled, took a few steps until you were right in front of him. his eyes flickered down to your mouth, took the long way back up.

you took his face in your hands, his stubble rough under your palms. you knew you didn't imagine the way he softened into you touch.

"surely by now you know you're all i think about," you said, an offering. like some sacrifice at a long-abandoned altar, so terribly desperate, shamefully honest.

so terrible, the way he grabbed at your hip, pulled you forward, against him. so desperate, the way his other hand twisted into your hair.

so shameful, how he captured your lips with his, all brute emotion, sleepy resignation, a million pleas of "look at me" answered with "i never looked away."

so honest, how he just barely whimpered into your mouth when you tightened your grasp on his jaw, kissed him harder. he pulled so slightly on your hair, you slid a hand down to his chest, gathered the collar of his coveralls in your first, trying to get him impossibly closer.

here, you both were practically screaming, here, have some more of me.

someone whistled across the garage. you pulled away from each other with a jump, having gotten a little carried away. quinn flushed on the tips of his ears and shot the culprit a look, which made you let out a light laugh into his chest.

the little rumble made him look down at you, wrap his arms around your waist and clasp them on the small of your back.

you stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. stone, molten.

"i have this thing next week," he said eventually, barely anything more than a rasp. "a formal for the team."

you nodded, reached up, twisted a strand of his hair around your finger.

"come with me," he asked, soft. "please."

you didn't have to think about it. "yes."

and so, about a week later, you found yourself at the hockey formal, an event you hadn't known existed a couple of months ago.

the past week had been blissful, but frustrating - you both were so busy, you with schoolwork and tutoring, him with the team. so much so that you could barely see each other outside of your scheduled tutoring session.

needless to say, you were very much looking forward to a weekend away with him. a whole night, just for the two of you.

and the whole night was wonderful. you were introduced to his teammates, saw a new side of him, heard his laugh so many times it made your head spin.

it was all just so easy. even the mess ups, the uncertainty, the silences, those were easy too, because they were with him.

when he stuttered over telling you how beautiful you looked - easy.

when you didn't know how to introduce yourself to his friends, so you just said you were "quinn's..." and then faded out, unsure - that was easy, because you weren't even really lying. your laugh was instinctual, and everyone else's was, too.

when he asked you to dance, reaching his hand out to you, there had never been an easier yes.

you danced with all the beautiful awkwardness of two people who weren't quite sure what they were yet - weren't quite sure how far they could go. there was not a question of how you both felt, but how slow were you taking this?

how slow could you bear?

every touch felt electric, like a gentle flame ignited whereever his hands had been. you felt a shiver erupt when his hand grasped your waist as you both moved together to a simple rhythm.

so up close and personal, you could smell his worn cologne, feel the warmth from his chest.

he gave you a sly smile, something close to a smirk. "okay, doll?"

you bit your lip, peered up at him through your lashes. "you just look so lovely, quinn," you told him, squeezed his hand, gave him a flushed smile. "it's distracting."

he pulled you a little closer, so that your chests were almost touching as you moved across the floor. "yeah?" he asked, his smile lazy, almost shy. "love a suit, do you?"

you tilted your head, met his gaze entirely and absolutely. oh, how much, how deeply you wanted. hadn't your want seemed to fray the fibers of the universe before?

babe, they seemed to remind you, we never cared.

then who was i praying to? you could have asked.

and they would have only shared a look, laughed like two girls at a sleepover.

well, who answered? they would have responded.

what you did do is give a slight shake of your head. "not the suit," you said. "you're distracting."

you watched his eyes become hooded, felt the underlying heat ignite between you. his grip on your waist tightened. "careful, doll," he breathed out, a warning, a plea.

"don't wanna be," you replied. there was a moment of understanding, a pause of anticipation.

"how slow do you want to take this?" almost drowsy with desire, his voice was slow, rough, only for you. "you know i'd go so slow for you, right, doll?"

you nodded. "i know," you assured him, "but i don't want you to."

you thought you heard him mutter a fuck before he was pulling you from the floor, out of the elaborate event room, upstairs to your room at the hotel. everything was a blur as his hand clasped around yours. a desperate escape, fleeing from everything, everyone except him.

and then the door was shutting and he was pushing you up against it, a hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as his lips met yours in a heated kiss that was every bit as desperate, as longing, and terrible and horrible and shameful as the first one.

you were both too far gone to hold back any longer.

you tangled your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, felt the curls between your fingers.

he tasted like mint and salt and something earthy.

kissing him felt like barbed wire made of gold, flowery rust, somehow the most violent act you had ever committed, yet also the most gentle.

like removing your heart with a cookie cutter, offering it to him on a painted porcelain plate.

you moaned into his mouth, he hissed just a bit as you pulled at his hair.

he pushed his hips up against yours, hiked your leg up around his thigh, making you gasp at the hardness you found across his front.

"more," you murmured against his lips, felt his sly smirk grow against yours.

he moved his hand from your hip to slide up your dress, glide his fingertips along your inner thigh, just barely skirt across your folds. "like this, doll? so wet for me already," he asked, his voice gravelly. "this must be enough then, yeah?"

you shook your head, moved your hips to try to get some friction.

"no?" he said, obviously teasing, "greedy girl, hm? wants even more?" he brought his other hand to your mouth, pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, smirked when you closed your lips around him without a second thought. "what do you say?"

"please," you whined around his hand, in a voice you barely recognized. "please, quinn."

he answered you by dragging his fingers through your folds once before pushing two into you, slow and deep, making you arch your back up off of the door.

"fuck, so tight," he rasped.

you whimpered against his thumb, closed your eyes as you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat.

"open up, doll," he demanded. "look at me."

you obliged with effort, wrapped an arm around his neck for support, another one bracing the door as he increased his pace, pushing his fingers in and out of you, grazing your clit each time.

your nails dug into his neck as you lost yourself in the sensation, barely registering the way he groaned at the delicious shot of pain.

"this enough, doll?" he cooed, annoyingly smug at how audibly wet you were.

you vigorously shook your head, so desperate to get him to keep going. "no," you pleaded, "fuck, please, quinn, don't stop."

he tightened his hand around your throat just a little, only barely squeezing as he flattened his other palm against your clit, making you moan loudly. "must be ready for me then, yeah?"

you fisted his dress shirt in your hand, pushed yourself off of the door and pulled him onto the bed. "please, need more of you," you begged, nothing more than a prayer, "fuck, want you so bad."

something lovely flooded his gaze as he moved his clothes aside, pulled himself out as you further hiked up your dress.

he spat into his hand, pumped himself up and down in a way that made your mouth water.

you were practically pouting. "please, fuck me, quinn," you said, pathetic and just so fine with it, "'s all i've been thinking about."

and you knew you had said something magical when he groaned and tugged you towards him by the undersides of your thighs, his grip hot and rough, a working man's grip.

"shit," he hissed as he ran his cock up and down your folds once, twice, collecting your wetness there, "'d never say no to you."

you whined when he first pushed into you, so, so deep that you swore you could feel him in the palms of your hands, feel him rattling around in your teeth, behind your eyes.

he moaned like a sinner, clutched at the flesh of your hips so tightly you knew his fingerprints would be left behind later.

as he began to thrust in and out of you, his rhythm hard and even, both of you could barely form words, so lost in the feeling of each other, finally as physically close as you could be.

"fuck," he bit out eventually, his rhythm picking up speed, "so tight, doll. so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded, clenched around him, reached one of your hands forward to rub at your clit, increasing the pressure quickly building inside of you.

he choked out a grunt at the sight of you touching yourself, only making you squeeze him harder. "feels so good, quinn," you whined, "so deep inside me."

he moved one hand up to your calf, hoisted one of your legs up to change his angle, thrusted down into you in a way that hit a dizzying spot inside of you. he kept going, bringing you both closer every minute.

"shit, feel so perfect," he bit out at some point. "made for me, hm?" he asked as you rubbed your clit faster. "squeezing me so perfect, yeah?"

you hummed something like affirmation, your breathing becoming ragged as he hit that spot over and over, his chest rising and falling, his thrusts becoming broken and messy.

"fuck, quinn," you moaned, "fuck, 'm so close."

he groaned. "gonna cum for me, doll?" he asked, letting your calf rest on his shoulder as his hand travelled down to apply only the slightest pressure to your lower stomach.

the sensation, that unique pressure making you feel him impossibly deeper, sent you soaring right to the edge.

"feel you squeezing me," he breathed out, his own voice tight and rough, his chest and stomach flexing as he fought off his own orgasm. "cum for me, doll, yeah? wanna feel you cum on my cock." he squinted with effort. "be good for me, hm?"

and his words sent you spiraling, a wave of pleasure finally crashing, clenching and spasming around him in a way that triggered his own high.

he moaned as he came, his breathing labored as you both collapsed back onto the hotel bed.

effort and satisfaction glowed on your faces, realized desire settling along his cheekbones and on the cupid's bow of your mouth.

there were several moments of easy silence in the warm air, his hand throw lazily around your middle, one of yours resting on his chest.

"can i ask you for something?" you said eventually, looking up at him with tired eyes full of possibility.

"anything, doll," he said, and you remembered back to that first day, in the garage. how easy it was, now, to remember it fondly.

"can i have a kiss, please?" you asked, almost shy, more so gentle.

a smile already played across his mouth. "especially that," he said, eager to comply with your request.

he leaned down to press a fluttering, beautiful kiss to your lips.

well i definitely didn't see this coming, chance stage-whispered to logical reason behind her hand.

i don't really deal with this lovey-dovey kind of stuff, logical reason said, not my thing.

all the divine powers and the fibers of the universe and such, they were silent. perhaps they always had been. perhaps this was much too far out of their jurisdiction.

perhaps it was just none of their business.

fin.

[lurkingshan]

I am once again screaming after finishing an episode of Blue Canvas of Youthful Days. This show is incredible.

Let me start with one of the more smartly constructed misunderstandings I've seen in a minute: after seeing Teacher Liu's lost love in a photo, Tan Lin avoids him for days, Liu eventually gets drunk and calls him, then ends up flipping him onto the bed and saying he missed him so much--which Tan Lin believes is Liu confusing him with his ex. So he removes his hearing aid to shut out Liu's words, right before Liu keeps talking and makes it clear he knows this is Tan Lin and Tan Lin is the one he missed. So Liu finally gives in and kisses him, but Tan Lin thinks it's only because he's mixing him up with his ex. Diabolical, show! Teacher Liu, you are a fucking mess and you need to get it together, stop running hot and cold, and communicate very clearly about your intentions.

On the other side of our story, this episode gave me everything I hoped re: filling in Qin Xiao's perspective to help us understand why he rejected Qi Lu. This show continues to be so solid on the class dynamics and how they inform this romance. Teacher Liu laid it out clearly: Qi Lu is privileged and he will be able to go to college with or without this special admissions boost, but Qin Xiao has many fewer opportunities and he can't blow it getting caught up in Qi Lu's problems. Qin Xiao knows this, and is also battling some feelings of unworthiness and unwillingness to make Qi Lu's life harder by saddling him with Qin Xiao's struggles. On top of that, and what I found most heartbreaking, Qin Xiao admits he has always longed for a "normal" family, with a wife and kids of his own. He wants that desperately, and so of course he is fighting himself on falling for a guy. And I get him. When you grow up that deprived of things other folks take for granted, there is a real drive to build it for yourself and strong resistance to anything that would get in the way of it, even including your own true desires and feelings.

I liked that this episode had Qi Lu crossing the line into being far too pushy and displaying a real lack of empathy for Qin Xiao and his different life circumstances, because it put them back on more equal footing in this conflict. Qi Lu clearly does not understand Qin Xiao's perspective and is not interested in understanding; he's too fixated on what he wants and how he wants to live in defiance of his abusive father to hear Qin Xiao's legitimate hesitations and give him space to work it out. It's a really beautifully constructed impasse where they're both in the wrong but we understand what's driving each of them.

[shivering-isles-cryptid]

I’m aware of the definition of a prophecy. And I’m sorry that my post about the Hero of Kvatch being just some guy has annoyed you this much. I’m also sorry cuz I thought we were on the same page here that we were discussing prophecies in the context of fictional stories and as literary tools.

I respect you not wanting to continue this discussion, and I hope you have the day you deserve, whatever that might be

People always talk about how in Morrowind and Skyrim, the players are parts of prophecy, but how in Oblivion the player is just a guy, but they never really talk about how much.

In Morrowind, the main game is a prophecy. Tribunal is an extension of that prophecy. Bloodmoon is another prophecy.

In Skyrim, the main game is a prophecy. Dragonborn is an extension of that prophecy. Dawnguard is another prophecy.

But in Oblivion, in the main game the player is just there. In Knights of the Nine, the player is just there. In Shivering Isles, the player is just there.

People never really talk about how the Hero of Kvatch is the most Random Dude anyone can be.

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts Pt. 5

Pairing: F1!Driver!JasonTodd x Reporter!Reader

A/N: sorry for the late late late update 😭 i was having so much problems with trying to enjoy this series again that I felt that if i rushed it it would ruin the series for not just me but a lot of people. Thank you for all the patience and i hope u enjoy this much needed chapter. ENJOY and flowers for all of u 😫💐 like if you’re comfortable and please tell me your thoughts as the story continues <3

Check out the Racing Hearts Masterlist!

Word Count: 1.9k (sorry but i’ll work my way up again 💪)

Jason finally had time to check his phone. He removed any miscellaneous notifications he forgot to silent before getting to the track this morning, but he was checking for a familiar name and icon.

It was like a little surge was invading his bones. He couldn’t help smiling at your conversations, it was like he was back to a teenager nervously trying to talk to a crush, but he didn’t have a lot of experience with those.

The times he rarely did have a fling, he kept it private, left it before it could be a scandal that he would be chewed out for.

But this.

This was new. He knew it was different when he was trying to get any attempt to still make sure you were fine with being with him.

What really made his stomach churn was when he couldn’t bring you to the airport to see him off. It felt wrong to leave your place without you behind him, leaving you to kiss only him goodbye, but not asking to follow him to the airport.

He tried to brush off the feeling the entire flight, but he couldn’t squish the thought that he wanted you here. That other than a quick romance, he could talk to you about his personal life, and he was fighting to throw you on the next plane so you could watch him race.

Maybe a dramatic kiss after he won would be nice. But, that was too cliché.

While deep in his thoughts, Roy tried to peak over Jason’s shoulder, trying to see what he was looking at, but it was not smart to try that on such a tall man. All he could manage to see was an open browser with plane flights.

“You tryna leave me here by myself?” Roy calmly asked, keeping his eyes down at the phone.

Jason frowned, not surprised at the nosey man.

“You get a little friend and now you want to leave me?” Roy feigned tears, placing his hands gently onto Jason’s shoulders. “If you must, then go! I can get us a championship. I can handle that for us.”

Jason sighed, closing his phone.

“Shouldn’t you be watching Lian? Why are you bothering me and what are you talking about?” He asked.

“Lian’s always with the crew, she’s more interested in the buttons than behind the wheel—don’t try to distract me, I’m not stupid, Jaybird. I knew you were a two timer.” Roy pointed an accusing finger into Jason’s face. “I saw that interview and I know that look in your eyes. I even commented on that video.”

“Uh, huh.” Jason ignored him and walked away, this time looking back at his phone to try to type, not reacting to Roy’s antics.

“I’m surprised your brothers haven’t bothered you about it. Dick’s gonna be jealous when I tell him you’re trying to get a flight back for love.” Roy aimlessly followed Jason, adjusting the cap on his head as he playfully wiggled his brows.

“That dickwad is probably too busy hiding behind a badge for that. He needs to find better things to do than bother me.” Jason stopped pacing, looking back at the red hair tail that can’t seem to get off him. “And you need to watch your daughter and also stop bothering me.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Roy sung. “Just me and you on this track forever, plus Lian, never leaving each other while we embrace—with Lian, of course.” He opened his arms for a hug.

Jason gave Roy an impassive look, not bothered to even give him an expression.

Still with open arms and a smile on his face, Roy waited before a small voice shouted out.

“JayJay! JayJay!” Lian’s small shout catches Roy’s attention.

“My Lian!” Roy reached out to grab his daughter walking with one of the crew members, finally relieving them from their babysitting duty. “No Jaybird today, Lian, he’s trying to run away.” He cooed happily to his daughter as she laughed, large noise cancelling headphones were bouncing around her neck and a bright smile spread on her face as he booped her nose.

“I’m not—the flight isn’t for me.” Jason sighed, not willing to look at Roy fully in the eyes.

Roy’s eyes widened as he heard the admission. A small silence lingered.

Lian broke the pause by reaching out for Jason. She made small grabby hands before he immediately gave in to grab her underneath her arms, settling on his chest.

She whispered a small “JayJay” before laying her head down, exhausted from an hour of playing while Roy and Jason were busy racing in the practice sessions.

While Jason patted Lian’s back soothingly, Roy watched as the two most important people in his life were embracing. It brought a smile to his face.

“I’m happy for you, Jaybird.”

It was all that was said between the two as Lian closed her eyes, but Jason felt content. He was given support.

—

“I’m never afraid of the track, it’s the fastest you can ever be on the ground and I wanna be the best.” Jason spoke to the interviewer on your TV screen, the Australian sun surrounding his face.

“How important is this race for you?” The off-screen voice asked Jason.

“Every race is important. I’ve gotten RedBull multiple wins these past couple years and I want to add another one. I feel better than I’ve ever have.”

You sat on your couch, dinner in your lap, watching your partner on screen wave goodbye, giving one final dazzling smile while taking off to his car.

He looked like he was in his element, a kind of happiness that only sprouted in him from Formula 1. A kind of motivation used for racing.

“Welcome to another race of the Formula One World Championship. What a great weekend to continue a new season.” The introduction boomed from your TV, setting up the Sunday excitement, ready to end another race weekend.

Ding. Ding. Your phone notifications rung next to you as you took a bite of your dinner.

You: I told you to hold a peace sign to the camera, now you owe me dinner

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: *thumbs down your message*

You laugh at your phone screen.

You: Loser

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: *thumbs down your message*

You: Send me a picture of you in your gear

As you wait for the reply, your TV catches your attention. A driver you’ve never seen before now standing in front of the microphone.

“Todd? How is that guy a threat? He just hides behind the RedBull emblem, but he’s nothing but another racer.” The raspy voice sent a chill through you.

“Jason Todd is a back-to-back four-time World Champion, do you plan on breaking that streak?” The interviewer pressed on.

“Ha! Like that’s hard, did you see how he crashed his vehicle last year? Bet he wouldn’t want that happening again, huh?” The man’s voice twisted something in you.

Formula 1 did have it’s competitive moments, but how was someone like this rude man competing?

Ding.

(Handsome) Mr. Todd: please I am more than my body

Despite Jason’s words, a flattering picture of him came in. A good look at his hands and body in the RedBull uniform. Gosh, you missed him.

You saved the photo with a smile on your face. A new lock screen.

You: don’t injure that pretty face of yours <3

“Thank you for the interview, good luck on your race.” The interviewer finished up, stepping in front of the camera to replace the rude driver.

You glanced up to get one final look at the screen, watching the rude racer walk away, expecting him to get bombarded with another interviewer and a brand new set of cameras, but he walked in a different direction, away from the crowd.

You were confused at the racer breaking the long chain of interviews happening on race day.

At the very edge of the camera, you could see the racer joining another man, adorned in a suit, turning his head sideways, but you couldn’t recognize who that was.

You whipped out your laptop. Maybe you missed an upcoming rookie the last year or there must’ve been a change you missed in the racing industry.

Your mind buzzed remembering the blurry man putting his arm around the rookie racer before your ringtone shouted at you.

Life is a Highway started to play as Jason’s contact picture brightened on the screen, a nice side view picture of his smiling face when you took him out for dinner.

You quickly picked up.

“Hey Jay! How’s Australia?” You gleefully asked, contrasting glancing back and forth to the TV screen and your laptop before the camera changed to the racetrack, no longer seeing the mysterious men.

“It’s fun when Roy isn’t talking his ass off.” Jason’s voice faded as he yelled at Roy to back off from him. “I gotta race soon, but I just wanted to hear ya before I had to leave. God, I miss you.”

Your breath hitched hearing Jason be so direct. You tried to reason with yourself that it was from the adrenaline before the race, but it made you feel like you were floating off the couch.

“I miss you too. Maybe when you have a chance to get back here, we can go out to eat like we normally do.” You suggested, a little more brightness in your voice.

You watched the compilation of Jason’s previous races playing on the screen. You saw him zooming down the narrow lanes at horrifying speeds as you heard him softly speak to you through your phone.

“I wanna fly you out here before then. I mean, I’ll be down for Vegas, but that’s too long. I gotta get you down here next to me.” Jason’s voice smoothly went in and out of your ears.

Your felt yourself reddening at his delightful words to you.

“I’ll see what I can do about work leave, but maybe i’ll take a couple sick days?” You spoke to Jason, happiness surging through you. “I would really love to fly out there.”

A loud engine roared through your phone, cutting off Jason’s voice briefly.

“Shit, sorry about that, I gotta go. I lo—” Jason hesitated before he was about to end the call, following up by several louder engines revving, overshadowing his voice despite how close he was to the phone. “I, uh, I’ll call you later.”

“Stay safe, Jay.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Beep.

The call clicked to end. No longer hearing the bustle around Jason as he was inching closer to his race.

Your heart beat rapidly in your ears as you continued to hold your phone in your hand despite the call ending moments ago.

You can’t assume.

There are numerous words that start with that sound. Maybe it was a mistake?

—

“What the fuck, Roy?” Jason yelled over Roy revving his engine multiple times. “I was almost done—will you stop—Roy!”

Roy lifted his foot, no longer making the obnoxious noise.

“Get your helmet on, we gotta go. If you win, then you can talk on the phone all ya want.” Roy was ready to pull onto the track. “Unless you want to stay on the phone and I can win this for us?”

Roy laughed as he sped off.

Jason sighed in disbelief as he walked back to get make sure the final checks on his car were done.

Roy was the only one who could compete with him on the track, so maybe his words weren’t just to instigate him.

He needed to focus because he wanted to see you and win while you were with him.

Jason put on his helmet, getting any last-minute safety precautions checked before he got the signal to drive out.

Tag List: @jaybirdstreet @kalzzen @meowkn @velvetberries @i0lovepink00 @rayaskoalaland @spidernuggets @janybabyy @deimks @yasmin-oviedo @bigraga-sk @indulgentdaydream @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @idontknowanythingsblog @xakilicious @livvyliv15 @whatsupstark @maxi-ride @kolmikaelsonslover

[belladonnadawn]

Before you/After you

"I love you, it's ruining my life." As the future heir of Serulla, you have your mind set and path in order. But everything changed once you met him– Zaros. (What happened eight years ago) Zaros Kymen Atha'lin x Reader

Everything is set in place ever since you were born. The road that you're taking was taken before, the thought comforts other– but it cages you. Every moment and every step you take was for Serulla— they hold your present while you hold their future.

For you, the small talks are for formalities, the conversations are for information, and connections are for upper hand. You'd often glance at the ladies, with how they easily converse with one another. You'd quietly observe viscounts laugh with each other.

You would be lying if you said that you didn't want to find a connection like that. A conversation with no intent, a friendship without negotiations. You tried in the past, but to no avail. No one seems to scratch the surface, no one seem to try.

Academy seems to aid with your loneliness. The more work and tasks they gave, the less you have to ponder about whatever thought your mind can conjure. For a moment, it did not matter that you're the heir to the throne, nor you're alone.

You quickly adjusted to the academy, it helped that some of the topics and subjects interests you. Even if you're having a hard time with other subjects, you have mentors to guide you through. The life was monotonous, but somehow, you found comfort in that.

The cafeteria is bustling with students packed with their snacks and stories. Sounds of metal and glasses along with conversations and laughters filled the area. You wished that those noise would visit you often, but that is almost impossible.

"Is this seat occupied?" A blonde young man asked, tearing your attention away from your food. As you looked up at him, his eyes widened, recognizing you. There was the familiar look in his eyes, one that you're almost used to seeing in other people's faces.

"I apologize, I did not—"

"Please seat, it's alright," You quickly spoke. It was strange, but a part of you wants him to stay.

He sat down, a flicker of intimidation in his gestures. He was careful, as if waiting for judgement. You wanted to roll your eyes at how tense he is— it was almost ridiculous.

"What's your name?"

He looked at you, clearly taken aback by your question, "My name is Zaros, your grace. Zaros Kymen Atha'lin."

"Zaros, nice to meet you."

You held your hand out and to your relief, he accepted.

Somehow, life in the academy became bearable. The monotonous mundane life that you usually led became tolerable. Awkward lunches and small talk became comfortable silence as you continued to spend time with each other. It also helped that you share some classes with him.

The more you spend time with Zaros, the more you know him. Zaros is filled with dreams and aspirations. You can't help but admire his outlook in life. He was a breath of fresh air and it felt like you finally found what you were looking for.

"Once I finish studying, I'll make sure to apply what I learned in my community. Giving back what I can is the least I can do for the people who I grew up with," His eyes filled with hope and aspirations– almost as if he can grasp the dream that he longs for.

Your heart warmed at the sight knowing that he's few steps away from achieving what his heart wants.

"What about you?" Zaros stopped his steps, tilting his head as he tried to examine you.

"My dream is to lead Serulla with honor and integrity. I want to continue its legacy" You answered, dictating the same words ingrained in your brain ever since you were a child.

Zaros only tiled his head at the answer. "But what about your dream?"

You looked at him with surprise as he asked the question once more. This time, you knew what he meant.

"I want to see the world myself." The words flow freely from your mouth as you let your guard down to him for a bit.

Zaros held your hand, giving it a gentle caress, "What's stopping you?"

Serulla is a wonderful nation; the more you explored it the more you loved the place and the people. You can't help but thank Zaros for his guidance. He showed you places you haven't seen before, leading you to paths that you never thought you'd traverse.

You seized your free time with him, often advancing your studies and sneaking past the guards so you can explore the kingdom more. Both of you knew those moments were limited, but you made sure that it was worth it. You and Zaros became inseparable and you wouldn't have it the other way.

"Just close your eyes. Do not peek," Zaros continued to guide your steps as his hand covers your vision.

"Oh, please. If this is one of your tricks, I'm punching you," You chuckled, anticipation building up at his said surprise.

"It's none of that. You can trust me."

Zaros halted his steps and so did you as you finally arrived to your destination.

"I present you the most beautiful view in Serulla." As he removed his hand, your eyes finally adjusted to the view.

What welcomed you is a beautiful landscape showcasing the city. The view from here was high enough to make everything seem small and distant. Cold breeze gently touched your skin; as you inhale, you feel yourself floating– soaring the skies.

You glanced at the man beside you. His soft gaze made your heart beat faster, but you didn't mind. A soft smile plastered in your face made his smile widen.

Then you felt it: the warm feeling in your chest, the heat in your cheeks, and the security that you never felt around anyone but him.

Zaros placed his arm around your shoulder, "Did you like it?"

You leaned to his touch, not minding the physical contact. With a smile, you answered, "I love it."

People are intrusive and curious. You understood that it will never change, but it still irritated you.

Once people got caught wind of you and Zaros, rumors began to spread. Some are almost harmless, but most of them are ridiculous. Whenever you hear it, you can't help but roll your eyes. It did bothered you at first, but you learned how to pay no mind.

After the exam, unwinding is something that you looked forward to; the park was the perfect place for that. A soft sigh of relief escaped your lips as you felt the grass beneath you. Being confined in the halls made you appreciate the nature. You finally found a way to break free from things that was weighing you down.

Your eyes wandered at the lush surroundings: the fresh flowers, the beautiful butterflies, and the clear blue sky.

As you looked around, you felt as if you're being observed. To your disappointment, you saw a group from the academy, whispering to each other, giving you not-so-sublte glances. You tried to ignore them, but you found more and more people looking at you like a spectacle– exchanging words as if dissecting you right then and there.

Taking a deep breath, you focused in your surroundings once more, ignoring the feeling of their suffocating scrutiny. You are a public figure, get used to it. The words repeat in your head like a mantra, but it didn't help. Your clothes felt tighter, your heart beats faster, and everything around you feels smaller and sma—

"Ignore them," His voice seems to pull you awaw from your thoughts that you almost drowned you. As you gazed at him, the weighing feeling in your chest gradually fades.

"I know a spot," Zaros smiled, holding his hand out and you happily took it.

That moment, you knew that he knew you in a way that no one would.

"The academy seems to treat you well," Your mother spoke with a soft smile, carrying a hint of pride in her voice. Her presence always soothes you. She always carries this grace and elegance in her actions and words; it was those traits that made you admire her as a leader and a mother.

You nod, a small smile visible on your face as you recallled your life in the academy and with Zaros. Back then, it was the topic that you dreaded to talk about, but now it felt like a distant past.

"I'm seeing a new side of you. It makes me wonder if you're ready to take after me," She spoke with a hint of joke, her gentle hand tapped against your cheek. For a moment you did not see Queen Roena— you saw a mother gently scolding her child.

A chuckle escaped your lips, "I still have a long way to go, Mother. My studies are well taken care of and I am not falling behind," You spoke, trying to appease her.

"I understand, my dear. Your little tardiness and unruly behavior is just bothering me," A small sigh escaped her mouth. "Few years from now, you will hopefully rule Serulla. I expect responsibility and strong sense of duty."

"Mother, I was just having fun with a friend. I assure you my studies are still my priority," You insisted like a petulant child.

She held your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looked at you, "I know, dear. As a mother, I advise you to be wise and careful. Trust is a gift not quickly given. Some people have different intentions."

You felt a cold coil in your stomach, not liking the direction where she was headed. It felt as if you knew what it was about— who it was about.

"Zaros, that is his name, right?"

You nodded, you wanted to open your mouth to defend him, but your mother immediately spoke.

"I apologize for intrusion. I know that you're growing up and being your own self, but I cannot help but worry about your current behavior and the rumors circulating around you and that man. Threats and dangers are everywhere, you have to be wary. Sometimes you need to listen to others, maybe they're seeing another perspective that you're blinded by."

A feeling of dread and hurt filled you at her implications. You're in another predicament once again, choosing between yourself and Serulla.

"Please, I speak to you as your mother. I cannot take another heartbreak, I cannot lose you," She caressed your cheek, her eyes filled with hurt as she recalled the distant past.

"Of course, mother. I will choose what is wise for us and Serulla." You spoke, cursing yourself as the words escaped your lips.

If you were able to condese the rumors that circulated, it will only boil you down to one thing:

The heir is a gullible fool, led astray by a traitor.

The future heir of Serulla is either a genuine dunce or seemingly a dunce. It was an insult to the ruler to raise someone as ignorant as you. You can't help but believe it. After all there's a thin line between losing your inhibitions and losing yourself.

You spent your days pondering about the rumors, considering your mothers words. Maybe they are right, maybe they saw something that you didn't. Gathering your resolve, you decided to face the possible truth. You have been led astray by him, it was now time to get your life back.

"Why did you befriend me?"

Zaros chuckled out of bewilderment, "That's a strange question."

"Just answer it," Your gaze sharp, catching him off guard. You saw him falter at your firm voice, leaving no room for friendly banter.

"Because I thought that we can be friends," Zaros spoke carefully, looking at you in the eyes, trying to figure you out. He could feel the tension filling the air– gone was the comfortable silence.

"Is that all?"

"You're asking as if you want to hear a specific answer."

"And if I do? Because it's strange how a person like you could take a liking in having a connection with me? Unless…" You glanced at him from head to toe.

"Unless what? Say it," His eyes daring, not leaving your gaze as he braced himself.

"Unless you're after something more valuable than friendship. Even others can see that."

Zaros' eyes widened, scoffing at your accusations, "Is that how think it is? After all the times you spent with me, you decided to believe them? That's preposterous." He let out a bitter chuckle.

"I am just considering their opinions. You can't blame me for being careful, especially with how desperate people can be," Your words venomous as you spoke.

"I may be 'desperate', but at least I am not a pathetic being whose worth is attached to a throne destined for them."

"Well, at least I am not desperate enough to intrude in someone's life!"

His jaw tenses as he clenched his fists, all the hint of the previous connection and bond gone in his face. "Maybe they were right. Maybe you're truly a fool. And if I am being honest, Serulla is doomed to fail under your guidanc—"

Silence filled the room after the loud sound of your palm making a hard contact in his cheek.

“You are a disgusting leech who won my trust, only to break me after. Knowing you is my greatest regret, I never want to see your face again.”

Before he could respond, you immediately left the scene.

As you walked down the hall, your chest felt tight and your mouth felt dry. You tried to ignore the stinging in your eyes, but before you can prevent it tears starts to well up.

You knew that there's no coming back after the words that you exchanged with each other. The bridge was burnt, you made your choice. Whether you'll truly regret what occured, you have yet to know.

Divider: Cafekitsune

[cilil]

Hi, do you have any advices for budding writers on AO3 or here?

Hey! :)

I've given this some thought and compiled what I hope might be some helpful pointers, but if there's anything else or anything specific you want to hear more about, feel free to ask again. Also I'm assuming this is about the amazing craft of fanfic and not, uh, building a platform or whatever (I wouldn't be very helpful with that, I'm a nobody x)).

Share what you feel comfortable sharing.

So since you're asking about budding writers on AO3 and Tumblr, I take it you're at a point where you feel comfortable sharing your writing online, which is amazing. Nevertheless, I feel the need to once again mention (just for anyone who may be in the same or a similar situation) that it's completely alright not to be comfortable with it (yet) or not to share everything you write. I share almost everything simply because I'm annoying and it makes me feel accomplished and since I've grown pretty comfortable with it, I might as well; but not everyone feels that way and feelings also change. It's completely alright to write just for yourself or a small circle of friends.

Don't worry too much about "being good".

I will be the first to admit that I deeply relate to struggling with perfectionism when it comes to writing (and other creative pursuits). However, as someone who's been reading fic for many years, tends to be into quite niche and obscure things sometimes and is rarely spoiled by big fandoms' abundance of food, I want all writers, especially new ones, to know that you don't have to write the most amazing, perfect, publishing-ready pieces. What matters is your passion and creativity, which will show in your writing regardless of skill level. Not to mention that fic is free and in fact a tool for many to experiment.

That's not to say you can't strive to improve or be good - by all means, I find it admirable if you want to hone your craft and make progress as you continue to write. Just don't let perfectionism ruin your fun and stifle your creativity.

How to get better without trying overly hard.

Aside from just writing, writing and writing (that is the most important part though), how do you improve without making it a point to do so? Well, if it works for you to read/watch guides or you enjoy specific writing exercises, that's great, but one thing that I find gets overlooked a lot in writing spaces is simply: Reading. Just reading for fun.

I find that I often discover little things in other people's writing that I really like and then I think to myself "wow, that's really neat how they did that, maybe I could take a page out of their book" (pun intended) and make it a point to pay attention to these things when I write. Essentially, it's like creating a nice patchwork blanket which is your style, made up of your own voice and preferences as a writer and cool stuff you picked up on the road.

Let me just name some examples, which, yes, are also an excuse to shamelessly blow some writer friends of mine a well-deserved kiss of appreciation. @sauron-kraut writes incredibly polished short stories with beautiful wording and atmosphere that have a lot of little hidden things to discover and dissect, and I want to steal her ability to set the stage and hide those easter eggs. @a-world-of-whimsy-5 is an absolute legend when it comes to writing medieval and medieval-adjacent stuff, and I learned so much from her fics. @i-did-not-mean-to has a way of writing with such esprit and wit that I always end up in a good mood after, a style of narrative voice I've adored for over a decade, and I've greatly improved my humorous writing in particular thanks to her. @crackinthecup has the marvelous ability to craft extremely emotionally evocative scenes, which have encouraged me to be more courageous and experimental in my sentence melody and structure. @tragedybunny has a way of writing that reminds me of coming home to a warm and comfy place, and I will find out how she did it and how I can do it as well.

So as you can see, it can be super helpful to compare notes with your fellow writers. Never be discouraged by someone else's ability; instead learn and expand your own.

Feedback, criticism and community.

Let me just get one thing out of the way: You don't have to take criticism from everyone. Or at all. As far as I understand, the fanfic community has come to to agree that we're doing this for fun and don't give criticism unprompted/when we aren't sure it's wanted or welcome. As a general rule: Take criticism from those you would also seek advice from. Ask for feedback if you feel comfortable, and if not, that's a valid boundary to have and I will gently smack anyone who presumes to pick apart writing that was made for fun and generously shared with the community for free.

The community aspect, however, should be taken into account on other fronts. While I won't tell anyone they have to interact and believe that, in an ideal world, everyone's writing would just speak for itself, it is helpful to engage with the community. Things you can do (both on Tumblr and AO3 if also applicable/possible) include: Respond to people interacting with your works, interacting with other people's works (for example while you're doing your reading sessions and looking at other writers' styles) and just overall being present, being talkative, going with the flow.

Again, this is not a must. But I will say that pretty much all of us want positive responses and interactions on their work and that just won't work if you expect everyone to show up for you all the time and never show up for anyone else. Engagement, passion and community are our "currency" in the absence of money and reciprocity is an important element of that. A lot of friction and complaints in the fanfic community regarding lack of interaction or entitlement are rooted in misunderstandings of this fundamental principle.

But don't take this in a cynical manner. Seek out what you enjoy, share the joy and passion and you'll make friends just accidentally - which is the part that I find makes fandom on AO3 and Tumblr so much fun! (I don't even want to be a "traditional" author anymore, I want this instead😁)

Find your groove and groove along.

Lastly, make sure your writing is fun for you or else it'll become a chore and eventually get ruined for you as a hobby. This is unfortunately a continuous task as your needs and interests shift - for example you might be in the mood to do an entire drabble challenge one month and during another month you feel so drained that you couldn't do another one. Or you might want to write something different for a change. Or whatever it may be.

Either way, one recent lesson I've learned is that I got too tied up in obligations and it left no space for spontaneous inspiration, so I never got to write what I wanted to write in the moment and it pushed me quite close to burnout. Do yourself a favor and always hold that space for yourself. In practice, this could for example mean that you do one event and on the side write this cool new idea you had, instead of doing three events - which is fun and games until it starts getting too much and you don't have time for your passion projects.

Finding your groove also includes the whole technical aspect, such as which writing programs you use, which device (or none at all), where you write, how to make yourself comfortable, how to get in the right headspace for things. I would also like to encourage all of you to be a bit crazy and whimsical about this: For example I've gone to the perfume store, picked out a scent for a specific character in a specific scene and sniffed it while writing the description several times now. Do what it takes. And say goodbye to your squeaky clean search history - you will research some weird stuff just to get that one line right.

So yeah, these are just my random thoughts on fic writing and what has been helpful in order for me to have lots of fun with this hobby. Happy writing!

[sakashq]

Too Late. 𐙚 kenan yildiz x fem!oc

🪬 summary. In which Isabel has never experienced love and doesn’t know what to expect of it. Once she’s shown it, she doesn’t know what to do.

🪬 face claim. this story is based on a work i had published on wattpad but have since unpublished. qlorify IS me guys i’m not stealing💔. she was a black woman in the book so i still fully see her as one here, but imagine isa as you please.

🪬 yap! I hate my ex. but i also miss him. so this is my current feelings for him written as someone else for someone else🤗. to my favorite divas who unfortunately have to go through this weird ass break up with me! @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @planetpedri @halfwayhearted 🩵

Isabel was not one to love. She just wanted to feel loved. She hadn’t yet met someone that was worthy of her love, past situations failing on the guy’s end. Love was such a strange concept for Isabel, the girl never being shot by one of Cupid’s arrows. Sometimes she felt like she wasn’t worthy of an arrow, watching everyone around her except her fall in love with their forever.

It wasn’t like there was something wrong with Isabel. She was beautiful—talented, too. Would do anything to make someone feel the way she wanted to feel, even if love was too strong and too terrifying for her.

She considered it ‘like-like’, more than liking someone, but not as much as loving them. Loving someone felt too scary, as she knew if she grew attached she wouldn’t be able to let go. And Isa wasn’t one to take no for an answer.

That’s why she couldn’t love. She’d get too attached and lose herself in that person. Who knows, if they were really worthy of her love, she’d destroy herself for them. It was like a lose/lose situation; if Isa loved, she’d lose herself. If she didn’t, she’d lose that person.

Well, this was all before him.

Someway somehow, Kenan had something different to him. He wasn’t like the other guys who wanted Isa. Personality wise, sure, but still. Something was off.

She didn’t know it at the time, but he was starting to develop feelings. They’d seen each other several times by this point, even going as far as texting everyday. He was doing what Isabel feared the most; falling in love.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Kenan was not falling in love with Isa. He fully thought he was, the idea of being with her being something he constantly thought about and highly considered. She was beautiful—talented, too. There was nothing he couldn’t like about her. Her flaws seemed like ghosts, being there but not seen. Maybe had he caught it he would’ve realized she was falling in love.

This scared Isa. She had never fallen in love with anyone. What made Kenan so different?

This scared Kenan. He had tried love a few times and desperately wanted it with Isabel, so why couldn’t he? There was something wrong with him, something so irrevocably wrong that he begun to hate himself for it.

He didn’t know it at the time, but he was scared of love with Isa.

She didn’t know it at the time, but she was scared of not loving Kenan.

He came to her door with flowers, as he had done once every week to convince himself that he really did love her. She answered as she always did, a bright smile on her face and her heart beating out of her chest.

“Hi,” she continued to smile, her stomach feeling like it was trying to crawl it’s way up to her heart.

“Hi,” he repeated back to her, a smile on his face. Why couldn’t he love her as she did him?

“Come in.”

He did as she said, putting the bouquet in their designated vase. “What’d you do today?” He inquired, hoping that conversation would plant a seed in him that would blossom into love for the girl.

“Nothing much. You?” She responded, sitting down at her counter. He sat next to her, their chairs facing each other.

“Bought your flowers.” They both chuckled. One with love, the other with anxiety.

“They’re beautiful, per usual. Thank you, Kenan.” She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He was so handome, she didn’t know if she could stop loving him.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was so pretty, why couldn’t he love her?

They hung out for a while, soon moving to the couch. He had his arm around her, she had her head on his shoulder.

“Kenan,” she spoke softly.

“Hmm?” He replied, taking his eyes off the movie in front of him and looking at her.

Her eyes met his and she melted into him. “I’m scared.”

“Why?” His voice was filled with genuine concern. Why didn’t see feel safe with him? Was this his fault? What did he do wrong?

“I… I’ve never loved someone the way I love you. And it scares me.”

He tensed up and froze. What? She loved him? No, no, no, this couldn’t be. She couldn’t love him. He couldn’t even love her! How could someone afraid of love make an exception for someone who didn’t feel the same?

“I’m sorry, that was way too forward,” Isabel frowned, moving out of his arms. “I didn’t mean…”

“Hey,” he held onto her, using his hand to guide her head to look at him. “It’s okay. I feel the same way.” That was a lie. He didn’t even know what he wanted.

Her face lit up, her brown eyes shining brightly against the TV glow. “Really?”

He smiled at her seeing her excitement, wishing he could share it with her. “Of course.” He kissed her gently, their soft lips connecting. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this.

“What does this mean now?” Isa asked after a few moments.

“What?” He knew what she was asking. He just didn’t know what to say.

“I mean… you love me, I love you. What’s that mean for us?” She questioned.

He had to ask her the question now, if he didn’t he’d seem like an asshole. He already told her that he’s in love with her, might as well right? “We… Can I be your boyfriend?”

It was already set in motion; it was too late. Kenan was now stuck.

[lunarubra]

I just have to start by saying—how awesome is the name Shadow?? I feel like my own name, Ari, suddenly pales in comparison! xD

Thank you so much for giving my little fanfiction a chance! It makes me incredibly happy to know you're enjoying it. It feels like I started posting it ages ago, though it's actually been less than half a year.

Jiyan is a bit of a mess at the beginning, and I'm glad you noticed that even at her lowest points, she's still seeking comfort in things beyond her work and research. That complexity means a lot to me as a writer.

One of my absolute favorite things is writing scenes where Cillian gets teased. He’s so humble and grounded—it makes those moments so much fun to craft! I’m thrilled you enjoyed that part too!

I’m also genuinely touched that you’re reading my story, even though it’s not focused on your usual favorites blorbo, also because I know RPF is not everyone cup of tea. I don’t have the words to express how much that means to me.

I hope you continue to enjoy the story and the background of my OC. I'm always here if you ever want to chat about it!

Hi :) this is the first chapter of the Shadow of the Sea, let me know what you think about it in the comments. A big thank you to @cillmequick for beta-reading and being the sweetest person ever. I wouldn't have published it without her assurance that it doesn't completely suck.

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan)

Summary: In this AU set in 2010, Cillian has just finished filming 'Inception'. He has never been married, and after a few disappointing relationships, he finds himself feeling blocked in his personal life, even as his career continues to rise.This is a completely fictional story, not based on real life. I wrote this with the utmost respect for the man and his family.

Warning: Homesickness, Family Distance, Mention of Sexual Assault (not between OC and Cillian), Sexual Harassment, Date Rape Drug/Roofies

Words: 2700

Next | Masterlist

Chapter 1: Eire's Depths

Closing the laptop with too much force, Jiyan started massaging her temples, hoping to alleviate the tension and praying she wouldn't have to deal with a migraine anytime soon.

The library was silent; the only sound was the rain against the windows, soothing the last students. Even if the new semester just started, there were only a few people left in the study area on a Saturday afternoon. Most students had already headed to the pub for a pint or were getting ready for the clubs later.

Jiyan checked her phone, noticing too many messages she had been ignoring since the morning. Sighing, she opened her brother's chat and found three unread messages.

14h11: Ready for a call later?

16h22: Mom is pacing, almost started ironing. You need to call tonight.

18h42: Seriously sis... if you don't call tonight, I will sedate her and take the first plane to yours.

Jiyan chuckled and quickly answered Mikael.

19h13: Ironing, huh? Almost need an intervention.

19h13: Will call soon, little bro. Don't despair.

Clearing the table of books and notes, she put her laptop and the last few things away in her backpack.

Outside, it was raining. Again. 

And it was dark. Already.

Coming from a country where the sun kissed Jiyan's skin almost every day, the continuous rain on this island pierced her heart each time. She was tired and hoped to get home, have a cup of tea, and finally make the call she had been postponing for the last two weeks, perhaps even forgetting what she was doing on this verdant yet depressingly weathered island.

The ride to her place was fast, and the bus was on time, something she was gradually getting used to. Entering the small studio made her feel restless and anxious, intensifying the pressure on her temples. Looking around the space she had started calling home in the last few months did ease her discomfort a little. 

Having spent her childhood moving to different countries, Jiyan was acutely aware of the housing crises almost everywhere. Still, she was taken aback by the difficulty of finding a flat in Dublin.

After a month spent in a hostel dorm and countless useless house visits, her desperation reached a point where she considered a dubious Craigslist post seeking help in renovating an old studio. 

When she first checked it out, she realized the studio was actually above a car repair shop, and apparently, no one had lived there for about 30 years. Sean, the guy who owned the shop, almost cracked up when she asked about costs and materials. It took her a good 5 minutes to persuade him that she was capable of almost any woodworking task and that she could undertake the restorations in her spare time and during weekends if she could live there. They struck a deal: Sean would foot the bill for materials, and until the renovation was done, she'd cover her living expenses by doing all the work herself.

After two months of solid effort, she'd managed to put in new wood floors, set up a functional bathroom with a brand-new shower, and even start building herself a kitchen. Sure, the place was small, didn't have central heating, and still looked like a bit of a mess, but the one thing that sealed the deal for her was the wood stove. It reminded her of her mom’s cabin up in the mountains, where she'd spend lazy afternoons by the fire, lost in a good book with a cup of tea in hand. So, if she could bring a bit of that cozy feeling into her new place, she figured she'd be all set, even with juggling her university work and research study.

It took a couple of minutes to get the fire going and put the kettle on for some fresh mint green tea. Once she finished her first cup, she dialed her little brother's number.

"Finally, are you becoming such a loser that you're spending your Saturday at the library now?"

"It's called work, Mika. Something you'll learn soon enough."

"Yeah, of course, like I'm not living with a psychopath right now. She almost started ironing the bed sheets, Aji. We need an intervention here, immediately. Mom never cleans; she moved from Turkey because she couldn't stand spending her time cleaning. You need to convince her that you're fine."

"I am fine," Jiyan repeated for the thousandth time. "And Mom moved from Turkey because we're Kurds, and she wanted to avoid spending her time in jail for teaching her language in school."

"You're fine?" Mikael said incredulously. "You're living in the land of Mordor. It's been a week since you've seen any sun; I checked the weather!"

"It's not that bad. I'm starting to like the rain," Jiyan said, convincing no one. "And I like the job."

"Is that Aji?" she heard her mom in the background, stealing the phone from her brother.

"Aji, how are you?" her mother's worried voice asked.

"Hey Mom, I'm good. Mika told me you need an intervention."

"Your brother should be studying for his finals, focusing on his Latin test," Jiyan's mother said after a pause. "It's been weeks since we've heard from you, Jiyan."

Jiyan stared out of the window, feeling guilt and pressure rising in her chest.

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just... I'm super busy with work and renovation here. I started building the kitchen from scratch, and most of the time, I forget to check my phone. I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure her.

"You're avoiding, little star, and today is a difficult day for you. You should be here, not alone on an island without sun," her mother insisted.

Jiyan really didn't want to have this conversation; she moved to this island to avoid this topic.

"It's all good, Mom. It's not a big deal," she said. "Also, I'm meeting new people; it's a good change," she added, feeling the lie stinging her tongue.

She heard her mom sigh. "I miss you, little star."

"I miss you too, Mom. Also, Mika, I need to go now. I'll call you next week."

"You do that, or I'm sending your brother there to check on you."

Jiyan chuckled and smiled. "We'll lose him at the first change of trains."

"Every battle has its losses."

Now really laughing, she closed the call. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, little star."

Jiyan put down her phone, staring again at the window. She knew she needed a distraction and couldn't spend the rest of the day inside alone. Not even building furniture could distract her today. 

She put on her jacket and boots, grabbed the keys, almost sprinting outside in the rain. 

Again.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

15 points.

Sighing disappointedly, Jiyan walked over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. It had been two weeks since she discovered this pub near her place. The music was usually pretty good, and it could be a cozy spot during weeknights. It wasn't usually too crowded, which suited her just fine. She'd come in to have a soda and play darts, avoiding the regulars and the occasional group of tourists who tried to strike up a conversation.

She knew she stood out as a woman in a pub on a Saturday night, playing darts alone. That night, she had already dodged two American tourists who tried to flirt and offer to "teach her" how to play. 

On the other hand, the regulars, after giving her strange looks for the first couple of nights, now hardly noticed or bothered her, accepting the odd loner who didn't drink beer and spent hours throwing darts. Tonight, unfortunately, the pub was busier than usual, with some tourist groups disturbing her vibe.

Feeling a presence behind her, she tensed up immediately.

"Hey, baby, what are you drinking? Can I buy you the next round?"

Jiyan turned around to face a stranger who looked like the typical Chad character from any American high school drama.

"No thanks, I'm good," she replied shortly, turning back to focus on her game.

"Come on, I saw you looking at me. You were checking me out, I saw you."

"Excuse me?" she said, annoyed, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"Yeah, when you went to order your drink, you smiled. The guys and I are having a blast; you could come join us. I promise you a great night."

Jiyan took a deep breath, trying not to get too annoyed. "Listen, Chad, if that's even your name—I don't care. I'm not here to make friends or have a good time with your guys. I was having fun until 30 seconds ago when I didn't even know of your existence. Can we go back to that, please? Thanks, bro."

"My name's not Chad," he replied, irritated.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jiyan said dismissively, hoping the conversation would end there, and she could get back to her new form of therapy: throwing darts.

Chad returned to his table muttering something about a "stupid bitch," but Jiyan didn't have the energy tonight to educate a stranger about basic respect and boundaries.

She took the last sip of her lemonade and headed to the bathroom, ordering another one from the bartender. When she returned, finding the new bottle of lemonade near the dartboard, she resumed her evening.

Cillian was onto his second pint when his attention wandered again to the peculiar woman in the far corner of the pub, throwing darts.

She seemed to be in her late 20s, sporting a hand-knit beanie that partially obscured her long dark hair. Her frame was small, drowned in a pair of jeans and an oversized dark hoodie. Each time she retrieved her darts from the board and turned around, Cillian found himself momentarily distracted from the conversation, captivated by her large green-leaf eyes.

Despite her efforts to blend in with her dull, oversized attire, every straight man in the pub couldn't help but notice her attractiveness.

Dermot, noticing Cillian's repeated glances, remarked, "She's new around here, lives in the area, spends her nights alone playing darts. Connor was annoyed the first night because she doesn't drink or eat, but apparently, she tips well, so we see her almost every night now."

Cillian raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Do you stalk all the newbies at the pub? Should I be worried? Should I give Connie a call?"

Dermot chuckled. "Like you didn't glance in her direction every five seconds. Just doing you a favor, pal."

Snorting, Cillian covered his blush with a sip from his pint. "I was just curious, and I wasn't staring at her the whole time."

"Sure, sure. Maybe we don't need to worry about you after all. You've been holed up in your basement for a month, and now look at you! You should go talk to her."

Cillian shook his head. "I'm gearing up for the new role, and it's been busy..."

Dermot glanced at his friend. "It's okay, you know, to try again? You're not a bad guy, and not all stories work out, mate."

Cillian looked down at his pint, taking another sip. He hadn't wanted to go out tonight and dwell on his last relationship. After a couple of weeks of seclusion, he was finally finding his balance. It wasn't that he missed her; they both knew the interest had faded months ago. They had reached a point where they were uncomfortable around each other and only ended up hurting one another.

He was just tired.

At 34, he was already questioning if this was it, his life—filled only with jobs he loved and relationships that would fill his life for a few months before inevitably ending.

Glancing up, he noticed a tourist from a nearby table approaching the young woman. Dermot and he said nothing for a moment, watching with interest. She appeared mostly annoyed and seemed to handle the situation well. After a brief exchange, she returned to her darts, and the guy slunk back to his table looking disgruntled.

Dermot chuckled after a sip from his pint, jesting, "Or maybe not the best idea, it looks like not even your piercing blue eyes would work this time."

Cillian snorted. "I think Enda would kill me if I showed up tomorrow with anything less than perfect condition. He owns me until the end of this play."

"Best not risk it, then."

They spent the next half-hour joking, with Dermot updating Cillian on Corinna and their new pregnancy. Cillian tried not to glance at the dartboard anymore, but he couldn't help but notice the American guy hurrying back to her corner after she ordered something from the bar, only to return to his table before she came back. Hopefully, he had finally realized she wasn't interested.

Around 11, they both decided to settle the bill and end their Saturday night.

Connor asked if everything was okay, and they both tipped him generously. It had taken some time for Cillian to find a place where no one cared about him or his career, and he didn't want to ruin it.

While Dermot quickly went to the restroom, Cillian cast one last glance at the dartboard, only to find the corner of the pub empty, with only her half-drunk bottle remaining.

Connor followed his gaze and grunted. "She forgot to pay, these damn tourists."

Surprised, Cillian looked at him. "I can cover her tab..."

"Why should you?" interrupted Connor, waving his hand dismissively. "She's here most nights; it will be covered, don't worry."

While waiting for Dermot, Cillian's eyes wandered to the American group's table, where they were laughing and shaking their heads conspiratorially. He noticed almost immediately that the persistent guy was missing and a bad feeling washed over him.

"Ready? Conie's going to kill me if I get home too late again, and maybe this time I can avoid sleeping on the couch," Dermot said, noticing Cillian's worried expression.

"What?" he asked Cillian.

Shaking his head, Cillian replied, "Nothing, let's go. Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight, lads."

Stepping outside, the cold, fresh air jolted Cillian awake. The street was quiet, unusually empty for a Saturday night. Glancing around before bidding farewell to Dermot, something caught his eye. In the corner of the street near the alley that led to the back of the pub, he noticed a jacket he recognized from inside. Dermot was saying something to him, but he wasn't paying attention, drawn closer to the alley where he found the guy from inside with his arms around an intoxicated young woman. She seemed unaware of what was happening and unable to stand on her own.

"Hey! What are you doing to her?" Cillian exclaimed, getting the guy's attention.

The guy jumped, almost letting the girl fall to the ground.

"Just helping her, man," he replied quickly. "Mind your business and go back inside."

Dermot, who had reached Cillian by then, also saw the scene unfolding before them. "What the fuck is happening here?"

The guy appeared more concerned now and, realizing Cillian wasn't alone, released the woman he was carrying, pushing past Cillian to leave the alley.

Cillian quickly moved closer, trying to catch her before she hit the ground. She now looked unconscious, and he gently laid her down, checking her vitals.

"What the fuck, man, this is so fucked up," Dermot said.

"Dermot, call 999. I'm not sure if she's breathing properly," Cillian said, alarmed. "Who knows what the fuck he gave her."

He wasn't paying attention to his friend but was focused on trying to make her a bit more comfortable. After a few moments of cradling her head, he noticed her scrunching her nose and grimacing. She opened her eyes, and Cillian found himself momentarily lost in them.

"Hey," he said softly as she stared at him. "It's going to be okay, alright? Just breathe; the ambulance is coming."

She didn't respond, just continued gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes, looking a little confused.

"It's going to be okay," he repeated, even softer this time. "I'm here. You're not alone. Just rest."

And she smiled, causing his heart to skip a beat, before closing those bright jade eyes once more.

Next | Masterlist

Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Your feedback, in any form, makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

amazing dividers from cafekitsune

[systcmaticeras]

hi there! we're a p-did system, and figured it might be nice to try and find a sense of community somewhere, so why not try here? we've had suspicions for a while but consistently gaslit ourselves into thinking otherwise– this is our first time accepting that this in fact a likely reality and are self identifying as plural until we can get in to see a psych to confirm. we use i/me and we/us rather interchangeably for the most part and to the best of my knowledge as the host we're all okay with they/them pronouns but some of us have other pronouns we also use! now, a few rules or general topics to cover real quick:

• we are not here to engage in syscourse, we aren't professionals or doctors, it's simply not our place.

• we do not mind (pro)endos interacting, we haven't been able to form a solid opinion on that subject matter, but we also do not want to discriminate or be rude to anyone, all plurals are welcome and we'd love to get to know you!

• we don't tolerate hate speech or bullying, if anyone is commenting such things on our posts they will be swiftly blocked.

• we would prefer that no one under the age of 16 (bodily) interacts in dms or anything unless they need some help or support, we are 19 bodily, so we just want everyone to be safe! any ages are welcome on this page, however almost all of us do swear and have a dark sense of humor, so keep this in mind!

• we love introjects! for who we know of rn, a lot of our system is introjects, not everyone to be clear, but we've always found great comfort in different forms of media, so we assume our brain split some of the characters we resonated with the most and still continues to do so sometimes!

with all of that out of that out of the way, a brief intro to the alters as we know ourselves!

FIZZ

they/them, key-host (rarely leaves front, most others blend with or co-host with me), potential helluva boss introject but this is unclear, i may have just stolen my name from it!

CONNOR

he/him/they/them, emotional protector, fronts occasionally, mostly during times of stress, but sometimes just when he wants to. dear evan hansen introject.

RIFF

he/him/they/them, protector, possible gatekeeper, second most frequent fronter so far, has a typing quirk, generally pretty caring but can definitely be stubborn and sarcastic. west side story introject.

LESTAT

he/him/they/them, role unclear, doesn't front frequently, tends to use french terms and a fancier vocabulary. iwtv introject.

DALE

he/him/they/them, role unclear, rarely fronts, not very confident but extremely sweet, wants the best for everybody.

V1

they/them/it/its, persecutor, co-con frequently but unlikely to fully front, harsh, does not like others, does not care to communicate with others. they have not shared their name, thus the placeholder name of V1.

ROSALIE / V2

she/her/they/them, possible caretaker, she doesn't front frequently, we don't know much about her, very sweet and motherly. name is assumed.

V3

she/her/they/them, role unclear, pretty chill personality from what we know, hasn't fronted much, first one to inspire me to make a picrew for her, hoping to have a name soon.

P

she/her/they/them, little – role unclear, we do not plan to share too much info on her, she fronts occasionally, and absolutely loves jellyfish and ham.

ART

he/him/they/them, role not yet discovered, he's relatively new, we think he split due to recent events that caused significant duress, but he's shown up when the paranoia hits some. pretty chill so far, but extremely tired. suspected challengers introject? unsure.

that's about all we have for right now, but we hope to meet some fellow plurals and cannot wait to find some community here!

~ fizz

[twig-tea]

GL odds and ends 10 November 2024

Still feeling out how regularly it makes sense to do this; first one was 2 weeks ago on 6 October, second was--oops--3 weeks ago on 20 October. If you're interested in GL older than that, check out my GL rec list through Feb 2024 and my update in July 2024. New series marked with an asterisk*.

Currently airing (with thoughts up to 10 Nov):

*The Fragrance You inherit 1/8 (Japanese, Friday/Saturday-ish, no official distribution but fansub on @isaksbestpillow's blog [thank you Siiri!] I wrote about episode 1 already, but just to keep it all in one place: this one looks great. Not really a GL, more a family drama with a lesbian at the center of the story. I'm doubtful we're going to actually get anything other than closure for the romance in this one.

Pluto ep 4/12 (Thai, Saturdays 9:30 AM EDT, YouTube) This plot continues to be absolutely wild (at this point both of them have suspected the other of being involved in attempted murder?!) but Namtan and Film stay gorgeous and serving so I am still tuned in.

Apple My Love ep 5/7 (Thai, Saturdays 11:45 AM EDT, GagaOOLala and YouTube) This show is very sweet and continues to hold up the recent Kongthup pattern of being great about things like sidestepping the most annoying drama tropes, showing great friendship dynamics including asking your friends about sex, and in this one, excellent sibling dynamics too.

The Loyal Pin ep 15/16 (Thai, Sundays 12:15 PM EDT, YouTube) Anin remains so brave. This latest episode felt a little like we rushed to the finish line, but I've really enjoyed the way this show has handled things overall to date. The show continues to enjoy faking us out in previews so I'm not going to speculate on the ending until we get it.

Red Whisper ep 7/8 (Korea, [schedule is kinda unpredictable; vaguely every 5 days??], YouTube) Oof we've graduated to actively upsetting me with the way this show has depicted nonmonogamy and bisexuality. For the record: Not all bisexuals are nonmonogamous, and entering a monogamous relationship under false pretenses and then acting like your partner is being unreasonable by not wanting an open relationship is shitty behaviour.

*The Nipple Talk 5/10 (Taiwanese, weird schedule: the first 5 dropped on Nov 8 and the last 5 will air Nov 22, GagaOOLala) I honestly owe this show a separate post, it is great! This is an ensemble show with the main character being a heterosexual woman but her two besties are a gay man and a lesbian woman, and the show follows all of them through relationship issues. There is a lot of sex, great conversations about sex, and different relationship styles from one night stand casual flings, to nonmonogamous casual regular sex partners, to long term monogamous relationships. It is very funny, fun, and charming as all hell. It's made a couple small stumbles in the first 5 episodes but I'm still enjoying it a lot. If you liked Diary of Tootsies, this is highly recommended!

Recently Completed:

Reverse 4 U 8eps (Thai, 3 Sept-22 Oct 2024, Netflix / YouTube) I did not like this finale--in the end I was sad where we ended up with this show and I hope we get to see these actors in something else. Also looking forward to more genre GL, which is in the works!

Unlock Your Love 8eps (Thai, 11 Sept-30 Oct 2024, GagaOOLala / YouTube) This show was a little slow, but it stayed cute and relatively low stakes, and the actors had excellent chemistry when they were allowed to do their thing, which was relatively often--I appreciated the amount of good kissing in this show lol. The plot meandered, and we forgot we were in a worklpace GL by the end, but I enjoyed this in spite of that.

Chaser Game W s2 8eps (Japanese, 19 Sept-7 Nov 2024, GagaOOLala) @lurkingshan is already doing a great summary of this week to week in her JQL weekly round-up, but I'll add my thoughts to the finale here. Honestly this show did not do it for me for several reasons, but the main thing this final arc did that bothered me was introduce lesbian motherhood as a serious conflict, and then seemed to suggest that homophobia only exists because queer people are not brave enough. It rubbed me the wrong way. Plus the boss who sexually harassed characters in the first season was back to sexually harass characters in the second season with no consequence. I think this show was trying to do to much and as a result it didn't feel coherent.

Recent One-offs, Side Couples, etc.:

A very short and cute Chinese GL Oh General! My General! aired on bilibili and was subtitled by @douqi7s on YouTube This short manages to speedrun training, shared bath, cheek kiss, forced separation, timeskip, and happy ending in 2 minutes

The sapphic backstory in The Hidden Moon concluded with a happy-in-the-afterlife ending

We also got more of the Aim as a Lesbian plotline in the new Love Sick 2024 remake again (this was not a plotline in the 2014 version and it's one of the changes I really like and that I think works really well; her conversation with her mother was a good scene)

The Thai lakorn The Empress of Ayodhaya had a kiss that earned very high ratings on Thai television (This show does not have international distribution so I can't cover it in any detail unfortunately)

Sastra film app YouTube channel has several short Cambodian GL series that come out weekly Honestly they are not to my taste but I don't like gatekeeping GL especially from smaller markets. I check in on these time to time and if there are any that I think are great I'll give them a shout-out

Ditto above with JPC media YouTube channel for Thai GL shorts if there are any that stand out to me I'll say so; that being said I haven't had time recently so if I've missed anything good let me know!

Starting soon:

My Ex's Wedding [in theatres in Thailand 14 November]

Mom Ped Sawan, Thai, 17 November [international distribution uncertain; it should be on VIPA app with subs, but that is region-locked]

Petrichor, Thai, 23 November, iQIYI

Mate, Thai, 26 November, WeTV

[yagiichan]

cod x fem!reader EDC Week

cod x fem!reader

cod members reaction to you when they first see you out of your tactical gear, and you’re actually dressed up for EDC.

Warning: mentions of smut, 18+ Minors DNI, language. Mentions of breeding.

A/N: EDC literally just happened in my city, and I’ve been into the COD x reader stories recently. It’s not going to be anything impressive, but I hope ya’ll like it. Again, this is my HC for whatever reason. IDK, I don’t really make sense to myself neither, so don’t @ me. :3 This is also my first time posting on tumblr, so please be nice.

FYI I do not know a whole lot of lore, I’m just here for the fun of it, so please do not flame me for any inaccurate/unplausible storytelling I am about to convey.

P.S. I drew the design of the dress, but I referenced an image on pinterest. I apologize as I do not know the original artist for the figure.

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

Chatter amongst the operatives broke out, as everyone began filing out of the room, from another long debriefing. You were new to the squad, and just barely began speaking to anyone. Layered in heavy combat armor, and face covered with a balaclava and dark round shades every time you’re on base. You don’t like it when people gawk at you, especially when conducting professional business.

You find it easier when you’re covered up. People treated you like a normal soldier, rather than a piece of meat. Though, doesn’t really stop the flirtatious comments coming from your companions.

Soap would linger sometimes, making fun little passes, “What’ve you got hidin’ under there, bird?” You’d laugh him off and just tell him nothing he’d be interested in. He’d quip back “Bet there’s loads I can find interesting, dove…” You continue to laugh, making your way down the dim hallway. The other members, following behind. Gaz would chime in with a “knock-it-off” comment every now and then, but he was just as curious how you’d look too.

Pretty much, everyone has seen one another, considering how long they’ve been enlisted together, so it’s no surprise that fresh meat would immediately attract the attention of wolves.

Ghost, Konig, and Horangi followed from behind, watching you laugh.

“What’s the fresh meat good at anyways?” Ghost asked nonchalantly. Horangi shrugged his shoulders, with a soft “mm-mm”. Konig shook his head at the both of them “Hand-to-hand combat and reconnaissance. Apparently, she’s managed to close the distance on the Captain and threw him straight into the wall.” Ghost scoffed, attempting to burn a hole in the back of your skull. “She is? Look at her” he pointed with his chin, “A literal fuckin’ gnome is what she is.” Horangi chortled a little bit, Konig staying silent.

Price picking up on their conversation, cleared his throat, “You’ll see in due time lads. Someone like that can be the least expected.”

“So, since it’s the start of the weekend why don’t we start with a bang and head down to the pub for a fill?”

 Soap suggested eagerly. The week prior had been incredibly taxing, so everyone was privy to the idea, besides you.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’ve actually got plans this weekend,” you sheepishly laughed. Soap whined, prodding you on what your plans are. You didn’t budge, only that it was already planned some time ago and you can’t miss you. Despite the constant badgering, Soap deflated in defeat, as Gaz patted his back. Despite the initial rejection, Soap bounced back almost immediately.

Chatting away with you, talking about coming out with them another time. You laughed along, apologizing that you couldn’t attend now, but promised to meet in the future.

Making your way towards your apartment complex on base, you noticed everyone else also shuttling into the freight elevator with you. You tilted your head in confusion, queueing Price,

“Well, we all share the same apartment complex. Compliment of the base we currently reside on. Wants to make sure we’re on the ready for when things go down.”

 You slowly nodded in understanding. You clicked your floor number, 10 and noticed that nobody else clicked a floor number besides 14. You looked at Price again, who sheepishly explained that squads are assigned to their own floors. That, since you’re now part of their operation, you’ll probably need to get the changes made soon.

“S’pparently supposed to bring us ‘closer’, build a bond with one another?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, thinking it was cute, “Yeah, I suppose it makes sense.” Chatter continued, until you reached your floor. Getting off, you said your goodnights to everyone. Soap continued to moan, hoping to get a glimpse of you at some point. Gaz agreeing, and Price chuckling at them.

The brooding bunch discussed themselves the best bar to pick from for the night. As the elevator finally reached their floor Soap clapped his hands together “Welp! How’s bout we all meet up again in an hour aye? Freshen up a lil bit. Maybe catch us a pretty bird tonight,” wiggling his eyebrows with the suggestion.

Sighing at Soap’s obvious desperation everyone agreed to meet in the hallway before heading down to the pub.

“Right! Now, let’s get this party started!” Soap howled, looking like he pregame’d before meeting up with the crew.

Everyone had transferred themselves into fresher clothing, finally peeling away the grime of the week. Excitement slowly brews in the group as they can finally wind down for the weekend. Although everyone had changed into more comfortable attire, the three brooding bunch kept their visages concealed.  All members shuffling into the freight elevator, chattering happily amongst themselves.

As the freight elevator begins its slow descent towards the ground floor, it suddenly stops at floor 10. Voices begin to hush as the door slowly slides open, revealing a woman with a high slit dress, stopping at the waist. Four thin black bands wrapped around strong thighs.

Her upper torso covered with black cloth besides the diamond cut pattern, exposing her breasts with dangerous allure. Her lower face covered by a black cloth that looked infused with the rest of the dress, leaving only her eyes visible, and hair to flow freely.

The unknown woman continued to adjust herself, before looking up into the elevator, capturing the eyes of every man on board.

----

Your eyes gleamed with happiness, pulling your mask down, smiling brightly at the lot.

“Hey team!” You chirped.

Silence.

“Heading out to the pub now?”

More silence. Eyes continued to stare you down. Not sure what to make of who you are. You started to feel awkward. Not realizing that this is their first time seeing you, especially like this.

“Erm… well then, off we go…? Heh…” you laughed nervously, with the door sliding closed once more, and the lift beginning its descent once more.

The ride down was silent and awkward, at least for the men. You just continued to tap away at your phone, not a care in the world, making plans to meet your friend at the festival entrance.

“(Y/N)?? Is that you?” Gaz piped up, still inspecting you from head to toe. You turned towards Gaz, nodding your head and smiling.

“Suppose this is the first time you guys have seen me outside of my Michelin Man outfit huh?”

You laughed at your own joke, not ever noticing the way their eyes grew hungrier by the second.

You never noticed the way Price stood just a little bit closer, in hopes of accidentally bumping into you. He’d blame it on how crowded the elevator was.

You never noticed the way Soap suddenly started spilling all over his words. His face slowly heating up with every time you laughed at his silly antics.

You never noticed the way Gaz was literally, so star struck, only nodding and laughing at whatever you were saying.

You never noticed the way Ghost suddenly stood up a little straighter, rather than leaning towards the rail of the elevator, trying to make himself look taller. More attractive for you.

Or the way Horangi adjusted his glasses every now and then to make sure you don’t catch him staring at you.

Or the way Konig began to fidget anxiously, staring intently at your being, hands held together to hide something that slowly began to rage in his pants. He was sweating profusely.

“Konig?” you questioned, staring up at the hulking 6’10” man.

Shit.

“Are you alright? You’re sweating up a storm.” Everyone began to turn towards him, suddenly finding himself embarrassed. With a few ‘legit’ coughs Konig spoke.

“Just need some air s’all.” He played it off way too cool. The others glared at him with jealousy when you showed concern for him. Konig, though his face not visible to others, smiled a triumphant smile under his facemask.

You smiled brightly at him, breathing a sigh of relief, tugging at his heartstrings even more. Glances were stolen every now and then by your team members. Assessing your body, and trying to determine if it’s the trick of the light, or your thighs are just that delicious. Toned, large, and ready to crush heads.

Oh, how they wished to have their heads between your legs. To have that pretty black dress lifted over their heads, and to hear your sweet voice calling out their names in ecstasy. Your hair sticking to your skin, drenched in the sweat and tears of your pheromones.

To watch the rise and fall of your heaving chest, as your honey coats their face and tongues. Once you’ve had your high, the dress comes off and you smile that bright smile at them, hands cupping their faces whisper-begging.

“Come here, darling… Come to me. I need you, so badly.” You’d pant out, with tears in your eyes, and a wobbly smile on your face, just begging to be ravaged by them. To be pumped with their loads.

Oh, they all wanted you, and you didn’t even know it.

The ride down felt like forever, until the soft ding of elevator is heard throughout, indicating your destination of the ground floor.

----

“So, where are you heading, dressed up like this?” Price inquired.

“EDC. It’s going on for 3 days, but I’ll only be going for two.” You stated excitedly.

“EDC? Wassall that then hen?” Now Soap asking the questions.

“It’s just a music festival. Electric Dance Carnival. Been dying to go, and since we’re out here I wanted to take the chance.” You informed the bunch. They all walked along side you, the rest in silence as Soap continued his barrage of questions.

“Oh, but I won’t be getting insanely lit or anything like that! It’s just an opportunity is all! I’m meeting some friends.” You corrected yourself, not wanting to have your team think you’re some sort of degenerate (hehe).

As you continued to happily chat away, your taxi pulled up. Bounding towards the door you turn back towards your fellow soldiers, not missing a beat.

“Ay, be safe, okay? If you need anything, don’t hesitate to phone me.” You chirped once more.

“Anyways, I’m off then! Be seeing you around!” You waved as you got into your taxi, driving away into the city.

----

Sitting around a table, with a dimly lit light hanging above them, Ghost groaned at the thought of phoning you to let you know that he isn’t feeling well. That he might need some of that ‘comfort’ you were giving to Konig earlier. Felt kind of sweaty. Might need you to take care of him, if you get what I’m laying down.

Price, Konig, and Horangi sat around the table, watching Gaz and Soap playing rounds of pool, but not really committing to it. Something on their mind, pretty sure knowing what, or who, it could be.

“If I died tomorrow, I’d want it to be those thighs wrapped around my head.” Soap dreamt, leaning on his pole.

“Yeah, no shit. Wasn’t expecting any of that. Reckon I’d begin howling at the moon just to have a bite.” Gaz chuckled.

Eyes snapped up at the duo, and then at each other.

Price laid a hefty pat on Ghosts shoulder, reminding him of his comment earlier.

“Still not what you were expecting, weren’t you lad?”  laughing heartily. Ghost grunted at his comment, as did Horangi and Konig.

“I… must admit… I too, was not expecting such a treat tonight.” Horangi shuttered with each word. Konig nodded vigorously.

Still fantasizing about your worry over him. Fretting over his comfort. He was already fantasizing about your wedding. The life you’ll lead together. Breeding you up with his young, having you cry under his weight, with your legs wrapped tightly around him as he drilled his throbbing member deep into your core. Konig shuttered at the thought.

“I’m going to make her mind” Konig stated out of the blue. Suddenly, all eyes snapped at him. Flashes of competitiveness and want evident on everyone’s face. Now, everyone was vying for your affection. And you didn’t even have an inkling of an idea that any of this was going down.

----

I hope ya’ll liked my story. It’s probably all over the place, and that’s okay. It was something I’ve been needing to get out of my system. Something I can go back to when I’m feeling that little itch.  I may build on this for our individual heroes. IDK.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Update

Hiiii, it's been a a couple months since I've updated about translations.

First, a thanks to everyone for their support of my blog and content! I really enjoy being here and engaging with you all. ♥️

Next, sorry for spamming my blog with random thoughts and about Jude, but please be prepared for more to come.

Now on to the real blog updates. It’s a lot, but please bear with me:

˚☽˚.⋆ As you may know, I've returned to using full-sized screen shots in my translations because there seems to be no further issues, yay! However, CGs will still be watermarked.

˚☽˚.⋆ Originally, I wanted to get back into Prince translations, but this isn’t happening anytime soon. I do have one expo story I may work on, but it’s not a priority right now.

˚☽˚.⋆ All available bond levels on JP server for Jude are still capped for me, but whenever CYBIRD releases new levels, I will start translating those. In the meantime, I’ll continue to translate Nica’s levels that are available as I progress with him.

˚☽˚.⋆ I’m planning to translate all upcoming Jude events in addition to his main story. It obviously will take time, but I will do it....somehow. I do have a plan for now. If others translate his route and/or events as well, that's cool with me, but I’m still planning to translate them also.

˚☽˚.⋆ On my main page I have a Translations WIPs master list. I update this on a regular basis (date included), so if you want to know what I am currently working on then please check it out. This link has been added to Jude’s Main Story Master List.

˚☽˚.⋆ I will be adding a link to his master list for a main story highlights post. This will feature key points of each chapter, his side stories, premiums, epilogues and letters. This will be very pared down, so don't expect full summaries because that's not what this is; but I do hope it will provide a basic understanding of what happens in his route, so that his BD event translation will make sense.

˚☽˚.⋆ Not that any of you have done this, but I kindly ask that you please be patient and not send me asks or DMs about the next update. I know we are excited, and we've had to wait well over a year for him, but Jude is not easy to translate and he takes time. There's literally been times that I've gotten a headache over his lines.

That’s all for now. Sorry, this is a bit more lengthy than my usual updates, but it’s been a while. Thanks again for your support and I hope you're all doing well!

(⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝) -Cici

[smallishzine]

very important official zine stuff for real this time guys please spread this around

we realized we haven’t asked you what you want this zine to be, so here is poll with some different options for things we could do, but this still won’t set things in stone cause we’re aware that we’re working with a relatively small albeit amazing awesome and extremely appreciated audience, but it’ll give us a good idea for what direction you want the zine to go in.

some examples of what we mean for added coherence, please read before voting unless you wanna be like that guy in the Simpsons movie:

an eras tour zine (yes this is a Taylor swift joke shut up if you’re judging us you’re wrong) would be like different pieces dedicated to each, for lack of a better word, “thing” that Joel has done. @/inthelittlezine is a great example of this concept, except the mod has far better organizational skills than we ever could hope to

tourism brochure would be like we pick a specific thing Joel, such as esmp 1 or 2, or x life, or one of his hardcore/survival worlds (I haven’t listed Hermitcraft season 10 cause that’s still in progress but if you guys really really wanna, that too), and make an in universe guide to it expanding upon the lore and characters and builds and stuff. @/scarland-artbook is an amazing example of this, though of course we would be a much smaller scale of a project.

do you wanna tell a story? Or ride our bikes around the halls? We can’t help with the second one, we’re not very sporty people, but this option is both the most difficult and dangerous to the success of the zine, and the one that intrigues me specifically the most. Like, guys, I know I’m polling this, but I’m secretly hoping that this one wins. Like all the hoping. Ever. But I’m not gonna just say yeah let’s do this because if like only three people also wanna this zine will never get made and I will be really, really sad. This option is basically do we wanna take something Joel has done and work together to create an original universe/story based off of it, each contributing a small part of the story in comic or writing form. Unless you’ve been living under a rock and/or this post broke containment sorry if it did I assure I’m usually mostly sane, you probably know where I’m shamelessly stealing taking inspiration from. We heart you @/hotguycomiczine. If we went with this we would obviously create our own universe and storyline, and we’d try to base it off of one of Joel’s characters if possible. Also, if we went with this, we’d start the mod and application process and stuff and once we knew everyone who was going to be in the zine then we’d all get together and start working on the story, and this is the part I’m worried about because if we’re all stumped then I guess the zine is out of luck and I’d be sad. Also even if we did do this, like preemptively temper your expectations I am no where near as good as the legends at hotguycomiczine at organization and promotion and story writing and all that good stuff. However, if you have an idea for a story and want to share, send us an ask cause we might just end up using it.

I think the last two are mostly self explanatory.

please reblog for reach.

[skzhocomments]

The Rising Empress (Bang Chan) - Chapter 11 - Setting the Plan in Motion

General Masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 10 | Chapter 12 (coming soon)

Taglist: @vxllxnsworld

---

Chapter 11 - Setting the Plan in Motion

Chapter word count: 3.4k words

“It was a smart move to give each court lady a bracelet.” Seungmin comments out of nowhere during one of their studying sessions, taking Aristia by surprise. However, she shows no change in expression, her lips in a straight line and her eyes focusing on the book Seungmin recommended she read in order to get more acquainted with the customs of the Empire.

“Thank you.” Is all she says.

“But a birdie told me that you’ve also commissioned some other interesting items.”

This finally takes her eyes out of the book, her attention shifting completely.

“What?” She shows a smile that could be perceived as naïve, although it’s anything but.

“You tell me.”

“Must I?” She puts her pen down, leaning back into her chair.

“You can’t trust the goldsmith, Your Highness. He told His Majesty about the keys the moment you sent that order.”

Aristia continues to smile, much to Seungmin’s surprise.

“Your silence tells me something that I’m not inclined to believe… Did you know he’d do that?”

“Of course I knew, Seungmin.” She chuckles brightly. “Do you think I’m so naïve as to put my trust in someone who’s worked for the Imperial Family for his entire life?”

“What do they unlock?”

“Nothing.” Aristia shrugs. “They are just some small tokens for my friends. Mere necklaces to match my own.”

This was far from the truth, but Seungmin once again had no business knowing the Empress’ secrets, much more so when they could be considered high treason.

The ladies that picked up those keys had no way of knowing about it either, foolish girls. They got blinded by Aristia’s promises and didn’t realise what their end on the deal would entail. The price they’d pay if her husband would ever find out about her plan would be way too grave, so she hopes it wouldn’t come to that before she’s had enough time to put it in motion.

Aristia figured out how little she trusts Chris as she cooked up this plan: a way of stopping the war from breaking out before it even begins, or, if it’s too late, a way of winning for sure. She only hopes she’s right and that things would go smoothly, but only time would tell.

Noticing Seungmin’s burning gaze in her forehead, she realises that Seungmin might understand her a bit more than she thought he could. He is, however, one of Chan’s right-hand men, and trusting him might be too dangerous.

She bites her tongue back and turns her eyes once more at the large book in front of her, signalling that the conversation is over.

“Your Majesty, I deeply apologise for interrupting your studying session.” Changbin bows apologetically after abruptly entering her study.

“Is anything wrong?” Aristia smiles softly.

“His Highness has requested your presence for dinner.”

“Has he?” Aristia raises a curious brow.

Chris has been busy this past week, and they haven’t spent any time together since the greenhouse lunch with the ladies when he surprised her with a visit.

“Yes. Alice is waiting for you to prepare you for dinner.” Changbin bows again.

“Then, this is it for today, I’m afraid.” She looks at Seungmin who nods briefly.

“Make sure to finish reading that by tomorrow evening.” He points to the book, but before Aristia has the chance to reply, Changbin intervenes.

“Seungmin, watch your manners. You’re in the presence of The Moon of the Empire, our Empress.” He scolds immediately, and Seungmin throws him a look that could only express Are you serious?!

Still, he obliges and bows down respectfully.

“My apologies, Your Highness. It seems I have been out of line.”

Aristia nods and asks Changbin to pick up the book, and then goes to her room to get changed.

~

Alice insists once more to pamper Aristia up with everything she’s got, and the Empress finds it quite amusing how a mere 14-year-old girl is ordering around Mari and Juliana. She dislikes wearing intricate clothing or heavy jewellery, but “It’s the custom!” and “You’re the Empress!”, so she eventually gives in and lets Alice have her way with her clothes and hair.

An hour and a half later, she’s ready to go have dinner with her husband.

The moment she steps through the door, she notices that all the plates have already been brought, and Chris makes everyone get out to give them privacy.

“Good evening, husband.” She smiles brightly, watching his grave eyes that quickly soften up at the sight of her.

He stands up and grabs her hand, kissing her knuckles softly.

“My dearest wife.” He helps her sit down, then joins her at the table once more.

Aristia certainly didn’t expect this warm welcome, and her heart skips a beat.

She was expecting Chris to ask her about why she hadn't worn the necklace, or to inquire about the small keys she had crafted, just as Seungmin did, but the Emperor did none of that.

Instead, he asked her about her studies, listened closely to her words and smiled ever so often while gently touching her hand on the table.

The dinner went by pleasantly.

“You are a breath of fresh air; did you know that?” Chris says all of a sudden, while Aristia takes a bite of one of the cupcakes on the table.

“How so?” She asks, and her heart skips a beat again, then does rounds in her chest that suddenly feels too tight to contain the growing feelings inside.

“You just are. By the way, have I told you that you were right about the contaminated water? Hyunjin and his team checked it out, and they’ve found one of the sources. Apparently, some of the countrymen were throwing out animal waste into a river, polluting the water in the process.”

“Really?” Aristia gasps. “Wow, I’m glad they’ve identified it!”

"I'm afraid it's simply one of the many other polluted waters throughout the Empire..."

"They'll identify the others in no time, don't worry." She smiles assuringly.

“Aristia, I missed you.” Chris says all of a sudden, happy to notice the excitement in his wife’s gaze.

“You work too much.” She pouts, not wanting to confess how much she’s missed him too.

She doesn’t trust him, but her feelings for him grow each time they spend time apart, and then grow some more when they meet.

“I have to.” He shrugs, grabbing his wine glass and giving it a swirl, then bringing it to his lips and taking a big gulp. “With the upcoming war, it’s quite a stressful time, you know?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have killed-” Aristia starts in a quiet voice, so quiet, it almost sounds like a whisper.

“He had it coming.” Chris cuts her off hastily. “How dare he harm you in your own home? I get angry just thinking about it.”

“He’s done it my whole life. It wasn’t that surprising, honestly.” She replies dejected, and he gets the same sinking feeling in his stomach as when he’s seen her wounds while Mari took her out of the bloodied bath water.

He feels sick for not paying more attention, for not even bothering to spend any time with her whatsoever before her dear father paid them a visit. If only he wouldn’t have shut her out, if only… If only he would’ve done better, nothing would’ve happened to her.

Does she consider this palace home, he wonders? Or is she still feeling suffocated by the castle’s walls?

And what about him? Sure, they’ve spent a night together, but are her feelings genuine?

As he watches her eyes intensely, he fails to see his own reflection. Instead, he sees that beautiful spark that made him fall in love with her, for he’s now certain he’s fallen, deep and hard.

“What is it?” She asks with a soft smile on her lips.

“Your eyes are very beautiful.” He smiles back sincerely and wishes he could tell her more, but it feels too early for the frightening I love you, although judging by the way his heart beats in his chest, even I love you would fall short.

“Is that so?” She chuckles. “Do you like their colour?”

“You could say that.” He nods, although his words are partly insincere. It’s not the colour of her eyes that drive him crazy.

It’s not the colour of her eyes that make him lean over the table and grab her chin, then capture her lips in a fevered kiss, taking her by surprise and making her gasp. It’s that powerful burning in them that almost knocks him out of his chair every time she’s determined to do something, and for quite some time, that sparkle hasn’t gone away from her gaze.

He wonders what she’s plotting, but he doesn’t want to come across as distrusting, so he doesn’t ask anything. Instead, he sits back in his chair as if nothing happened, as if he hasn’t just kissed her, making two deep lines form in-between Aristia’s brows.

“What was-”

“Aristia.” Chris calls her name to stop her from asking him about it. He doesn’t know what he would answer. He might end up confessing otherwise.

“Yes?”

“May I do that again?”

“… Yes.”

This time, Chris stands up properly and helps her out of her chair by handing her his right hand, just as the customs say he should.

She accepts his help, which brings a smile to his lips. It’s the first time she’s accepted his help, quite the contrast to when her back was cut open and she needed to be bandaged.

They look into each other’s eyes for a few short moments, before Chris leans in and presses his lips on hers, softly this time. His hands move to her waist, keeping a steady hold, and Aristia reciprocates, placing her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Her back arches under his palms and she roses on her tiptoes as their kiss deepens. She missed his touch badly, and Chris missed hers even more.

Feelings start blooming in Aristia’s chest each time the Emperor’s tongue is touching hers, and a new emotion grows in her heart. She wants him all for herself, she needs him more than anything in this very moment, and no matter how close he is to her, he isn’t close enough.

“Please take this off.” She speaks between hurried breaths, pointing to his top, and he’s never undressed quicker before.

She also makes haste and takes off her dress, and their bodies get tangled on top of his large mattress, Chris’ body on top of hers, in between her legs.

Aristia pants for air when he breaks their kiss to position his member against her entrance, and as he pushes in, this time with no patience or hesitation, she lets out a loud moan, quickly muffled by his mouth back on hers.

They make love passionately, and it feels so intense, Aristia is quick to let go and roll her head back as Chris bottoms out into her numerous times in quick succession.

He releases himself inside of her soon after and plops down next to her on the messy bed, hugging her tightly and whispering sweet words in her ear that make her blush.

She wishes she could just focus on these happy moments and simply forget the first year he hasn’t paid her any mind, but she can’t.

As he falls asleep next to her, completely defenceless, she simply can’t let go of the pain in her heart. She can’t trust him. She can’t.

She wishes she could, but her growing feelings for him don’t overcome the anxiety that something might go wrong, that he could change his mind any moment and go back to treating her coldly.

She is afraid that if she were to trust him at all, to tell him about what she’s been thinking about – how to stop the war –, he would simply dismiss her, and she will once again feel small, powerless, a fake.

Thus, it’s impossible to fall asleep, so her mind stays sharp, and she thinks over the plan she’s made in her head about a million times. She pieced together all the puzzle pieces, so now, all that’s left to do is execute it.

~

“Changbin, will you please go to Felix and let him know that I’d like us to have tea together this afternoon?” Aristia smiles sweetly as Changbin and her are strolling through the gardens.

“Oh, I thought you didn’t want to meet him today.” The guard replies, completely charmed by her.

He’s grown to admire his Empress ever since he started serving her and being such a close attendant, which is a common effect between all the other people Aristia’s worked with so far. Seungmin feels the same way, noticing how sharp her mind is, and Chris is in even deeper.

They all admire her; if only she’d see it as well.

“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” She shrugs and chuckles.

“But, still… I wouldn’t like to leave you alone. What if something were to happen?” He frowns, shaking his head.

“What could possibly happen? We are inside the castle’s walls.” Aristia dismisses him entirely. “I’d like to enjoy the warm air a bit more, so I’d really appreciate it if you could send word to Prince Felix and let me bask in the sun.”

“Well… do you promise you’ll stay put, though? I truly don’t want you to be in any danger…” He is still hesitant, but Aristia immediately calms him down and convinces him to leave her.

“Of course, Changbin. I’ll stay here, don’t worry.”

She is glad that Changbin is her personal guard, but he can sometimes be too overprotective, which could end up messing with her plans. However, once he gives in and leaves her alone, she immediately stands up and heads towards the knights’ practice session.

She consulted their schedule carefully over the past few days, to make sure everything goes according to plan.

Precisely as she intended, she arrives just in time for the practice to be over, and she sees Victoria’s brother – Victor – heading his merry way away from the other knights. She starts walking towards him with resolve, and as he bows in her direction, she trips and falls, wincing in pain and putting on the perfect show in front of this young boy, convincing enough to make him run towards her and help her up.

“Your Highness, are you alright? Can you stand?” He hurries over and aids her in standing up, however, she is quick to lean into him and complain about the pain in her right foot.

“I think I might’ve sprained my ankle…” She furrows her brows and puts on a pained expression.

“Oh, no! What should we do?” The young boy ponders. “I will go summon a doctor immediately and-”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’d rather you carried me back to my room, and I’ll ask my maids to summon the doctor instead.” She talks him into it, and he doesn’t give it any further thought.

He immediately bends down to allow her to jump on his back, and hurries towards her chambers.

“Thank you so much. What is your name?” She asks once they are inside of her room, with Mari examining her foot and Alice frantically running out the door to summon Hyunjin.

“It’s Victor Silverstone, Your Highness.” He bows politely.

“Your Highness, what happened?!” Changbin runs through the door and kneels down on one knee in front of her bed.

“I happened to trip and fall, but thankfully,  Victor was there to help me.” She explains.

“I shouldn’t have gone to Prince Felix…” Changbin shakes his head, disappointed in himself. “If I were there, I could’ve-”

“No, Changbin. Please don’t overthink this too much.” She cuts him off. “It must be difficult for you to be my only guard, as you always have to be available to me, no matter the time of day, and if I also make you run errands, it becomes almost impossible for you to manage.”

“Not at all, Your Highness.” He immediately denies, and Aristia smiles softly.

“No, I’m sure it’s hard. What if we’d appoint one more guard for me? I think Victor has great potential. He rushed over to help me, kept his calm and obeyed my commands perfectly.”

Changbin looks the boy up and down, not entirely convinced.

“I’m not sure, Your Highness… He is still young and inexperienced.”

“Still, he’s helped me when I needed it, and he deserves a reward for it. What higher honour than to be one of my personal guards? That way, you’d also be able to focus on the upcoming war preparations, and train more, to become even stronger for me.” Aristia insists, and with each word leaving her mouth, Changbin begins agreeing with her more and more.

She certainly has a way with words, to make everyone else around her agree with her ideas.

“This could be a good thing, I guess… It would certainly be good to have more people guarding you, and Silverstone is a great individual from a great family…” Changbin ponders.

“What do you think, Victor?” Aristia turns to the boy, who immediately kneels on one knee and takes out his sword, presenting it to her.

“It would be the greatest honour to guard Her Highness the Moon of the Empire. I pledge my sword and my unwavering loyalty and dedicate myself to your service.” Victor declares, committing himself entirely to Aristia.

She accepts his sword and grabs it by the handle, turning it around and tapping it on his shoulders.

“It’s decided, then.” She smiles. “Thank you for your service, and for pledging your loyalty to me.”

“I thank you for providing me with the opportunity to serve you.”

“Changbin, you can take the rest of the day off, and please go inform my husband about taking Victor Silverstone out of any other obligations.” She instructs further. “Victor, you may go wait outside.”

“Understood, Your Highness.” The boy bows and exits without a word more, and Changbin follows soon after, when Hyunjin walks through the door.

“Your ankle doesn’t seem to be sprained.” He remarks, examining her foot thoroughly.

“It hurt so bad, though. I must’ve stepped on my foot wrong in my heels.” Aristia explains, to which Hyunjin agrees with a nod of his head.

“You were lucky this time, but please make sure to be more careful from now on.”

And now, with everyone gone from her room, she finally relaxes and smiles to herself.

Her end of the deal towards Victoria has been kept; it is unlikely that Victor would have to join any wars at the borders from this point forward.

Now, it’s her turn to return the favour.

~

“An information guild?” Victoria eyes the Empress carefully.

“Mhm. I need to send a very important letter in utmost secrecy, and the only way to do so would be through an information guild that can’t get tracked back to me.” Aristia replies holding the small envelope tightly with her hands.

“If I may…who exactly… is the letter addressed to…?” Victoria asks, her voice quiet.

“My half-sister.”

When Aristia responds, it feels like all the air in the room disappears. Victoria looks shocked and doesn’t know what to do, or how to reply.

“Your… your half-sister?” She asks in a whisper, her chest tightening.

When Aristia simply nods, handing her the sealed letter, Victoria shuts her eyes and breaths in deeply.

“But, Your Highness… your half-sister is… the enemy…”

“Yes. I am aware of that. That’s why it needs to be done this way.” Aristia clarifies.

“I know you’ve taken my brother in your care, and I am deeply grateful that he doesn’t have to go on the battlefield anymore, but… this is too much. You’re essentially asking me to betray the crown. I could lose my head…” Victoria hesitates, but still, she leans over and grabs the envelope with shaky hands. “You could lose yours.”

“Indeed. If my husband were to find out…” She averts her gaze. “This must stay between us, Victoria, and I will continue to uphold my end of the deal.”

“May I at least know of the letter’s contents?” She asks, holding the envelope tighter.

“It’s… a proposal. A way to stop the war from happening. Now, I’m not sure what the outcome of this will be, so it’s better to just keep it to ourselves for the time being…”

“Your Majesty, I hope you haven’t signed this letter. In case someone discovers before it reaches its destination-”

“Yes, Victoria, don’t worry. It doesn’t have my signature or my seal. If, by any chance, this letter would be discovered before reaching my sister’s hands, we will insist it’s been forged.”

“Then, how will your sister know it’s you who’s written it?” Victoria inquires.

“I told you this before, but please leave these details to me. That’s for me to worry about.”

“Your Highness, this task you’ve entrusted me with is extremely difficult… However, I will do my best to make sure this letter gets to your sister safely.”

“I also need you to deliver this other letter to the information guild you choose, as well as whichever remuneration they’re asking for. This is crucial for the future of our Empire, Victoria. I hope you trust me and my intentions. Everything I am doing is for the Empire, even if it seems otherwise.” Aristia insists, giving the woman a second letter.

Victoria simply nods and exits the room with haste.

~

Chapter 10 | Chapter 12 (coming soon)