#i finished summer camp island today

[spittingstar]

ngosk

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hellooooo

I saw that ur requests are open so here I am :)

Can I request a leo valdez x hermes kid reader please? (Not headcanon I hate it 😅)

Here you go <3 [there wasn't a lot of info in the ask so I sort of created a plot and stuff, sorry it took so long]

No head canons as requested :)

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Despite the fact the gods were absolute [REDACTED] little [REDACTED]’s, your father had at least had the courtesy to not make you allergic to strawberries. The green stems still scratched your ankles as you strode through the fields, but that was a given, and you’d taken to wearing yellow gumboots as you collected the crates 

At least three quarters of Camp Half-Blood were kneeling in the dirt, gloves and wide brimmed hats on as Pollux and Katie directed them around the rows of produce they were supposed to be picking. 

The warm summer air carried the scent of the berries strongly, and disguised the stench of Pegasi poop fertilizer, thankfully. You adjusted your beaded camp necklace and looked around for Clarrisse, who was supposed to be in charge of getting the Ares kids to load the crates of strawberries into the van. She was found quickly, yelling at one of her brothers to ‘stop lazing around and get your ass moving!’ 

You tucked the clipboard under your arm and strode over, stepping over a discarded spear, “hey, all the crates packed?”

“For the first lot,” she grumbled, picking up the spear and jabbing at one of the kids who had taken a bite of the strawberry in their hand. “These buggers won’t be finished in time for the second one today- hey you! Yeah you, get your gods-damn ass up and quit whining!”

You rocked on your heels for a moment, and then decided to make an escape before she put that spear to use. All of the order’s in the first lot were for surrounding roadside cafes and grocery stores, so it’d only take a few hours.                                                                         Argus chucked you the keys as you made your way over to the pink van, which had a large ‘Delphi Strawberry Farms, Long Island Sound’ logo printed in a darker shade of pink. “Thanks dude.”

He just grunted back, and you opened the door, checking behind you that none of the crates were out of place. The perks of being a child of Hermes were far and few, extra bunkmates that didn’t want to be there and general shame on your cabin because of a certain scarred blonde never helped, but now you were the oldest, save Connor and Travis, which meant roads, traveling, and trades was your area of expertise.                                           

That's why you were listening to the jingling of the Totoro keychain on the van keys and the radio, wondering if the nearest drive through was open. It’d be a busy afternoon dropping crates of the red berries off and signing clipboards, but anything was better than dishes duty, so you volunteered happily, as one of the only demigods who could [legally] drive. 

You were out of the Camp Half-Blood border when you heard the first thump behind you, but to be fair, there was a pothole, probably because of a monster, so you ignored it, assuming a strawberry crate had tipped over. Then there was a more alive like sort of sound, and you were already reaching for where your perfectly crafted weapon sat on the passenger seat. 

The rearview mirror didn’t give away what sort of monster was hiding in the back of the van, so you eased off the accelerator and gulped, keeping one hand steady on the wheel and the other on your weapon. ANother glance to the rearview mirror, and you caught a glimpse of the monster's shadow, lit up by the soft afternoon sun. 

Then the van skidded on the road a little from lack of attention, and you whipped back to the front. You heard a loud screech behind you. Your ill-used weapon flew from your hand as the wheel spun out of control. The seatbelt cut into your chest as you were yanked forward. 

There was a sudden impact, a crash, and then a heavy silence. 

Your breathing was only just audible over the pounding of your heart, and you wiggled each of your limbs one at a time, but all that you felt were dull thuds of pain and shock through your bones. 

The next thought came to mind when smoke billowed in front of you. The bonnet was on fire. Of course. Then something fell in the back of the van, and you were scanning the trashed front seats for something to defend yourself with. 

“Holy Hephestus, that was intense.”

“Valdez?” You felt the muscles under your eye strain as a twitch formed. You turned slowly to see a sooty son of Hephaestus wiping a squashed strawberry off his cheek. The eye twitch turned to a glare. “You are so dead.”

“How is this my fault?” He scoffed, sitting up a bit and prodding at the nasty looking bruise on his jaw with a grimace. 

“You literally hid in the back of the van without telling me, and then scared the life out of me, and we hit a,” You peer through the billowing smog outside and see a brown and green shape. “Tree.”

“In my defense, you were the one that was steering the-” He must have noticed your expression, because he narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips slowly. “I’m gonna stop talking now.”

“And then fix the van.” 

“RIght, imma go fix the van,” He nodded quickly with a grin, like this was just a fun outing, and after a few pitiful tries, slid the door open. “Good idea.”

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Leo Valdez was an interesting boy. If interesting means a greasy annoying know it all with a cute face and a knack for fixing slightly dented strawberry vans. 

You were unloading all of the previously stacked wooden crates to see which ones were still sellable, and which ones would be taken back to camp and served as strawberry pie. Once that was done though, and a few orders were crossed off the list and added to the lot two clipboard, you sat on a crate going back to camp, and watched him in a totally not creepy way.

You masked it with a firm glare, which he only winked at. It was infuriating really, but then he’d stick his tongue out as he concentrated on whatever had happened under the bonnet, and maybe you could look past that.

It wasn’t your fault you were so drawn to him, it’d been him who’d showed up at the camp shop five minutes before closing to restock the windchimes the Nyssa had been making for Katie, who ran the store. And Katie was the one who’d asked you to stay behind and lock up once he was done.

Although it sort of was your fault you’d sat on the bench organizing the cash register for half an hour and bantered with him, then taken two ice creams out of the freezer and handed one over, which only resulted in the boy trailing after you like a lost but content puppy for the following weeks. It wasn’t too bad, he was funny, and brought plates of bread, cheese and olives when your shifts at the camp store ran through lunchtime.

Somehow that friendship had blossomed into stalking and van crashing, although the latter was being reversed as you basked in the sun, watching it glow from behind Leo like a halo.

He brushed the grime and oil off his hands and onto his cargo pants, smiling at you and oblivious to the greasy handprints now decorating his legs. You just raised your eyes back with a little smile and stood up, carrying the crates you could still deliver without getting sued to the back of the van.

You slid them into place, and turned around to see Leo’s arms shaking as the wooden box he held slipped a little, his face screwed up with effort. The determination on his face stopped you from rolling your eyes, instead, you took it off him. Well, tried to take it off him, but you accidentally grabbed the bit he was holding, stopping him from moving his hands away.

Leo had the faintest patch of little freckles along the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones, which were flecked with scars. 

“Uhm, sorry” he sputtered, freckles hidden by a deep red in mere seconds, and tugged his hands away, shoulders tensed. “I was just tryna-”

You blink, and realize you’d been staring a little. Then you whipped around with the crate in your arms and prickling skin. Was it obvious that you wanted to find out the story behind each of his faint scars and maybekisseachofhisfreckles? “Thanks.”

There was silence behind you as the rest of the crates were put into place, and you pulled the door shut, finally finished. You swing the van keys around your fingers, “so why were you stalking me?”

“Was not!” Leo argued, “I was…shopping.”

“...In the back of the Delphi van.”

He sighed, pulling a list out of one of his many magic pockets on his toolbelt, and handed it over. “I was gonna sneak out of the van when you stopped and go get everyones stuff, cause Chiron said we can’t go out this week, cause it's strawberry picking.” 

‘I am Kenough’ hoodie [Piper]

Giant wolf teddy [da bad boy supreme]

Peanut MnM’s [Nico]

Bluetooth speaker [Thalia]

“Thalia’s tryna get him into her music,” Leo explained, hands in his pockets, “she thinks Taylor Swift should be illegal.” 

“Huh?”

“It’s Jason’s birthday, the day after next. I was elected for present buying, cause I’m the smallest and best at hiding, and Piper thinks I’d get in less trouble. Dunno why.”

Oh gods.

 His friends knew that you liked him, that’s why he’d been sent to get the presents and hide in the back of the van. Piper was a daughter of Aphrodite, of course she knew. But Piper was nice, not that you knew her very well, but still… she wouldn’t use you… Would she?

You took a shaky breath and turned around, frowning. Then you squinted at Leo, “how were you planning on getting back after you snuck out of the van?”

“I… To be fair I wasn't in charge of planning, and I'm more of an act then think about what i fucked up kinda guy anyway.”

“Yeah, I figured.” You mutter, and open the driver's seat door, hopping in and starting the engine. The smoke billowing from the bonnet was long gone, and the van smelt of warmth and strawberries instead of fear. You pull your seatbelt over your chest and click it into place. When you glanced out the window, Leo was still standing outside in the grass, looking lost. 

You beep the horn twice and roll down the window, “you gon’ walk back to camp or you gon’ hop in?”

A grin split across his face, making your chest light and fluttery.

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“Does it matter which coloured wolf it is?”

You turn to Leo, holding up the two fluffy wolf teddies, one on either side of your head as if you were one as well. His smile wobbled across his face and he held up another one, “What about green?”

“Shrek Four, more wolves.” 

“How original,” he teased, throwing up the green wolf into the air and then failing to catch it, instead the toy face planted onto the shiny floor of the store and rolled. The Shrek wolf let out a long pitiful squeak.

They both froze, until you squeezed the pink one in your hand, and it made another sound like a dying kitten. Leo blinked a few times. “Are they- did we… Are they dog toys?” 

“We are the dumbest humans alive,” you choke, and toss the pile of multicolored dog toys back into the rack, along with the rubber balls and bone shaped plushies. Now that you actually thought about it, it was pretty obvious these weren’t for humans. 

Leo ran a hand through his hair. “Where else are we gonna get a wolf teddy? All the shops will be closing soon anyway!”

“Will he know?”

“What?”

“Will Jason know it’s a dog toy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows apprehensively. Leo’s warm eyes widened, and a little smirk turned into a big smirk in a matter of seconds. “I mean, does he mind squeaky things?”

“I mean, he was raised by wolves, maybe he’ll like it?”

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“Last one, you’re kinda good at this,” you note, passing Leo the clipboard and pen, then clambering into the back of the van to grab the last two crates, which were being delivered to the cafe between Camp Half-Blood and the closest Mcdonalds. 

Leo grinned over his shoulder as he headed to the girl in a fluorescent yellow jacket tucked into a pair of overalls waiting at the back of the cafe. “It’s my natural charm!”

You jump back out holding the stack of wooden boxes and follow him, rolling your eyes, which you had been doing far more than you usually did in the last few hours. Then again, your cheeks were sore from smiling so much, and the electricity you could feel in your veins hadn’t faded yet. 

“You have no natural charm, Valdez.”

“Course I do,” He winked, then handed the sheet to sign to the girl. “You put up with me right? I’ve definitely charmed you.”

You freeze, and then move to the palettes by the back door and dump the strawberry crates, giving the Delphi Strawberry Farms stamp on the pale wood one last look, and then getting back into the van. Only then could you let out your breath and sink into the leather seat a little, eyes wide. 

Was he catching on? Or just joking around?

There were a few more moments of silence and thoughts spinning like a whirlwind, before Leo scrambled up into the passenger seat, letting out an exaggerated sigh when he made it up. “Man, are these things built for giants or something? What normal person is expected to get up that high?”

You just shrugged, checking behind you in the rear view mirror as you pulled out of the car park. “Dunno.”

The atmosphere changed immediately as Leo glanced at you with wide eyes. He’d probably been expecting you to make a short joke at his expense, hell, he’d set you up for it. He looked away though, while you turned up the staticky radio and drove you both onto the small highway. 

The seconds ticked by painfully slowly, trees, clouds, and green hills of flowers whizzing past the windows. You could feel eyes on you every few minutes, but didn’t look back. 

Was this all at your expense? 

Was Leo in on Piper’s pretty obvious now when you thought about it, plan? Was he using your soft spot for his faded freckles and stupid smile to get out of Camp Half-Blood unnoticed?

His tapping got annoying after a while, on his legs and the seat and the door. Chewing his fingernails and pulling bits and bobs out of his toolbelt. They stopped suddenly, and a second later he turned to you, gulping. “Did I say something wrong?”

You turn the radio down til all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and Leo’s desperate ramblings. “I kinda do that a lot, it’s a bit of a problem, but if I said something bad I didn’t mean to make you angry. Was it when I teased you about me charming you? It was just a joke and-”

“Was it?”

Leo faltered. “What?”

Your knuckles were stiff on the wheel with how hard you were gripping it, and you had to take deep breaths so that you could focus on the road in front as well as the friendship you were messing up. “Did Piper… Did she use her powers on me to find out? Is that how you know?”

“Know what?” 

“Don’t be thick, Valdez. You know what I'm talking about.” You snap, then shut your mouth tight, guilt trickling into your veins. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. Just forget it.”

“No, no.” Leo interrupted, “Piper’d never do that, she’d not like… She wouldn’t do that, I promise. And it really was just a joke, but…”

“But what?”

“Pull over,” he blurted, reaching for where your hand sat on the wheel quickly. You check behind you, heart racing not just in your ears but everywhere, pounding through your body, dragging nerves and fear through your limbs. 

There was an inkling of monsters, always monsters, in the back of your head as you pull over to the side of the road, stopping the van in the grass. But, there was another thought in there as well, a mere fantasy, really, but- but that thought was wiped, along with every other one in you hear when calloused fingers pressed against your jaw, moving your head so-

Leo unclipped his seatbelt in a second you didn’t even register, because time stretched out and squeezed back into place like a yoyo, until you didn't know if the kiss had been a peck, or hours of soft lips and tight chests. 

His eyes were warm and brown and fearful as Leo shrunk back a little, like he was only just registering what he’d done as well. 

“You kissed me.”

“I’m sorry you were just saying all this stuff like I didn’t kinda sorta really like you back and I kinda sorta wanted to kiss you as well for ages but…”

“You were kinda sorta scared?” You filled in his silence, and Leo dipped his head, nodding a few times. You didn’t have enough time to sort out all the emotion in your head at that moment, so instead you unbuckle, and lean back over the console. 

Leo was still looking down, so you had to tilt his head up. “Well… Why don’t we practice til it isn’t scary?”

All you got in response was a wide eyed stare, and you backed down after a moment, shame curdling in your gut. The moment you let go of his chin, Leo was moving forward, your orange shirt balling in his fist and his other hand reaching to cup your face. You let him.

One of the many things you found out about Leo as you kissed him, apart from the fact his lips were chapped and he really liked tracing his fingers along your jaw, was that he had been eating strawberries on the sly all day. You could taste the berries in and on his mouth, which moved against yours in sync, like you were one and the same.

You pulled away gently, and looked down, not even knowing when your arms had slipped around his waist, but he was pulled a lot closer then he had been at the start. You didn’t mind. At all. 

“Better?”

His eyes were lidded and he was quite possibly the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Leo grinned, his lips puffy, and tilted his head to the side a little. “Maybe a ​​​more practice. Just to check.”

“Good idea,” you mutter into another kiss. There was a little thud, and Leo moved over the gear stick between you and onto your seat, never breaking the contact. Contact between everything, really, your lips and his. Between his arms and your neck as he held you closer. Between your hands and the soft scarred skin on his sides that was warm under your fingertips. 

He shivered as you circled your fingers, ducking his head and taking a breath. When he looked back up at you, his eyes were hazy. “So, like… I'm guessing this means you aren’t mad at me anymore?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I might’ve convinced everyone I should go buy Jason’s presents cause I wanted to hang out with you…” Leo smirked, his eyes crinkled and sparkling. You sighed, but you weren’t annoyed with him, and you didn’t think you would be again. Unless he caused you to crash the van again, then she would rain hell down on the boy. 

You pressed your lips against his softly, and pulled away again. Gods, you could do this forever. “You’re an evil genius, Valdez.”

“But I’m a good kisser, right?”

[haveyoureadthispoll]

After a year spent trying to prevent a catastropic war among the Greek gods, Percy Jackson finds his seventh-grade school year unnervingly quiet. His biggest problem is dealing with his new friend, Tyson--a six-foot-three, mentally challenged homeless kid who follows Percy everywhere, making it hard for Percy to have any "normal" friends. But things don't stay quiet for long. Percy soon discovers there is trouble at Camp Half-Blood: The magical borders which protect Half-Blood Hill have been poisoned by a mysterious enemy, and the only safe haven for demigods is on the verge of being overrun by mythological monsters. To save the camp, Percy needs the help of his best friend, Grover, who has been taken prisoner by the Cyclops Polyphemus on an island somewhere in the Sea of Monsters--the dangerous waters Greek heroes have sailed for millenia--only today, the Sea of Monsters goes by a new name...the Bermuda Triangle. Now Percy and his friends--Grover, Annabeth, and Tyson--must retrieve the Golden Fleece from the Island of the Cyclopes by the end of the summer or Camp Half-Blood will be destroyed. But first, Percy will learn a stunning new secret about his family--one that makes him question whether being claimed as Poseidon's son is an honor or simply a cruel joke.

[monkeymeghan]

I hung out with one of my nephews today. When I got there, my SIL and nephews were finishing a cartoon they were watching (Summer Camp Island). The part that I walked in on, one character was telling the other that he would be her bellhop and help her with her baggage. Not judge it, or do anything to it, but be there to help her carry it. I loved that sentiment. I don’t remember exactly how he explained it, but that was the gist. It was beautiful, and a great message for kids to hear.

[justabooknerdposts]

annabeths 19th birthday

Prompt: Annabeth's 19th Birthday (very specific lol)

Annabeth's nineteenth birthday was going well. She and Percy had spent most of the day traveling around Long Island visiting some of its most famous architectural landmarks, including the windmills of East Hampton and Watermill, Old Whaler's church, Sagamore Hill, Old Field Point Lighthouse, and finishing at Montauk Point Light.

It had been great, just the two of them driving around all day, seeing the different architectural monuments. Percy had happily let her drag him by the hand around the various buildings and had seemed to listen to most of what she told him about them. She was glad they saved the Montauk Point Light for last—it made her heart beat faster to watch the way Percy came alive beside the sea, his eyes reflecting the green of the water, his grin turning slow and lazy as he looked out over the waves. She especially liked when he turned that grin to her as he took her hand, his fingers sliding through hers, lacing them together.

"Good birthday?" he asked.

She nodded, drinking him in. Last summer, they'd spent her birthday grieving Jason and the loss of so many in Camp Jupiter and New Rome. The summer before that, they'd spent her birthday in Tartarus. The summer before that, the Titan War was in full swing. The preceding summers it had been the joys of the Labyrinth, the Sea of Monsters, and the Underworld. To just have today, calm and peaceful, after a really great first year of college and looking forward to their second year, was about the best birthday present she could ask for.

"So do you want to walk around the lighthouse and tell me its history and how it was built and everything?" Percy asked her.

"In a minute." She put her free hand on his neck, pulling him closer, and kissed him. For a few wonderful seconds, nothing else existed. She could even briefly push out of her mind the thought that had been bothering her all day and which she was continuing to refuse to look at.

Once Annabeth was actually focusing on the lighthouse, it was even cooler than she'd hoped for. So, yet again, she grabbed Percy's hand and pulled him around the base of the structure, pointing out features and talking about its history. She'd thought by this point in their architectural tour, he'd be completely zoned out, but he still appeared to be listening, even asking her questions and pointing out some things about the nautical benefits of the massive light and why it was important on this spit of land.

Finally, she cracked and said, "I've been talking about architecture all day. How are you still interested?"

Percy actually laughed at that. Then he slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Because I love you. And it's your birthday, so I'm just happy that you're happy." He hesitated, studying her face, then asked, "You are happy, right?"

Again, the thought Annabeth had been ignoring all day rose in her mind, but she shoved it back down as she managed a smile and told Percy, honestly, "I'm very happy. And I love you, too," she added, moving closer to kiss him again.

They headed back to camp for the evening. A lot of their friends had come in to help celebrate Annabeth's birthday. It hadn't been her idea to have a party at camp, but Piper and Rachel had insisted, and enough of the other campers had agreed that Annabeth really had no choice. So, somewhat grudgingly and somewhat gratefully, she had agreed to the party.

Party preparations were in full swing in the dining pavilion when they got back. Annabeth only caught a glimpse, though, before Piper shoved her away. "No way. It's not ready. Go away for a while…like another hour. Drag your boyfriend off and go make out somewhere or something."

"Eewww," a voice nearby squealed. Annabeth turned to see Angelina, one of the newest Athena campers, making a face. When she caught Annabeth looking at her, though, she giggled and jogged off, streamers trailing from her hands. Annabeth was struck by just how young she looked; Angelina, with her glasses, braces, and incredible aptitude for mathematics and chemistry, was only twelve.

The same age Annabeth had been on her first quest. The quest where Luke had gifted Percy some cursed sneakers that had nearly dragged him, Annabeth, and Grover straight into Tartarus.

"You okay?" Piper asked, studying her face. "I'm not trying to kick you out, we're just finishing up—"

"No, it's fine." Annabeth forced a smile. "Just…thinking about something else. This place is looking great. I'll be back in an hour."

Annabeth made her way down to the beach. A few campers were splashing in the ocean, so she headed a little ways farther down from them, until she was hidden by a dune. Then she sat down in the sand, put her arms around her knees, and took a deep breath, letting the sound of the waves wash over her. After a few moments, she closed her eyes and also allowed the thoughts she'd been battling all day to rush over her.

She was nineteen today. An age many demigods didn't get to and which she was very proud and grateful to have achieved.

It was also the age Luke had been when he'd decided to betray Camp Half-Blood. When he'd been willing to send Percy, Grover, and her to Tartarus. When he'd tried multiple times to kill Percy—who had only been twelve. At the time, Annabeth had been deeply hurt and disappointed in Luke, but now, looking at the other campers, some of whom seemed so young, she simply couldn't understand how he could have made those choices. She'd always had a good imagination, but she couldn't imagine choosing to set them up for destruction. The gods hadn't always treated her fairly either, but she would never take that out on the other campers.

"Hey."

Annabeth jumped as Percy appeared around the edge of the dune. "Oh. Hey."

"Can I, uh, join you? Or would you rather be alone?"

In response, Annabeth patted the sand beside her and Percy plopped down, sending sand flying. She made a face at him, but he just shrugged.

Percy leaned back on his hands, eyes on the ocean. "So, what are you doing out here? Just feeling old?"

"Watch it, Seaweed Brain. I'm only a month older than you." Annabeth poked him in the side. "And no. I was just…thinking."

"Uh-oh." Percy shot her a smile. "What's up, Wise Girl?"

Annabeth sighed. She pulled her legs more tightly against her chest and rested her chin on her knees. "I was just thinking that…the summer we did our first quest, Luke was nineteen."

"Oh yeah." Percy frowned, thinking. After a few moments, he glanced at her. "You're not, uh, having similar thoughts, right?"

"No!" Annabeth burst out. "Just the opposite. I can't understand how he could do it." When Percy didn't say anything, Annabeth continued, in a lower voice, "I couldn't do it, Percy. I couldn't hurt kids. We were kids. You, me, Grover…but he still gave you those damn cursed shoes. Plus, almost everyone at camp was younger than him. And he was ready to kill us all. Or, at least, he was okay letting everyone die. What—" her voice caught. "What went wrong?"

Percy was quiet for a long time, looking out at the water. "When we were on the quest to Greece, I kind of started to think that I understood how Luke had felt. Just a little bit. It sucks to be a pawn of the gods over and over again. But I know that they still beat the alternative. And, yeah, I could never turn on my friends. Or camp. I definitely would never hurt kids. If…if you're hurting kids, you're always on the wrong side." He shook his head. "I don't know, Annabeth. I don't think I have a good answer for you. I mean, part of the reason we did what we did in the Titan War was because we couldn't see his side."

"Yeah, that's true." Annabeth wiped a tear off her cheek. "I didn't expect to think about it today, but this morning at breakfast, looking around at all the other campers, they just seemed so young and then I realized I was the same age Luke had been when he'd tried to kill you with that pit scorpion." She shook her head. "And then I just couldn't stop thinking about it. It feels different from this side, you know?"

Percy nodded. He studied her face for a moment, then scooted closer and put his arm around her shoulders. Annabeth leaned into him and drew a shaky breath.

"Sorry to be all blubbery on my birthday," she told him.

"It's fine, babe." Percy kissed her forehead. "Besides, isn't there an old song about it's your birthday and you'll cry if you want to?"

Annabeth gave a watery laugh. "I think it's party, not birthday."

"Close enough." Percy tightened his arm around her shoulders. "Nice sunset."

"It is." Annabeth laid her head on his shoulder. They stayed there, watching the setting sun turn the sky orange and purple until the conch horn sounded for dinner and it was time to head to her party.

*

The party was a lot of fun. Annabeth was able to shake off her morose mood and go back to having fun; talking about her thoughts with Percy had definitely helped, as it usually did.

At the campfire later that evening, Harley and some of the other Hephaestus campers, with help from Leo, who was back for the summer, set off a pretty impressive display of fireworks because, as Harley said brightly, "Annabeth is old."

"She is," Percy agreed solemnly.

Annabeth smacked her boyfriend, but high-fived Harley and thanked him for the awesome fireworks show. He grinned and ran off to join his friends, who were roasting marshmallows over the fire. Annabeth had to smile as she watched them, then popped a marshmallow into her mouth; it was gooey and smoky from the campfire—perfect. She didn't love being called "old" (especially when she was only nineteen, which was still pretty young—she couldn't even legally drink yet!), but the way Harley had said it, with hope, reminded her how nice it was, now, that demigods knew they could grow old. Bringing New Rome into the picture hadn't just been good for her and Percy; it could be a source of hope for all demigods. Life was still difficult. It always had been and always would be for demigods, but there was also hope for a future. And that made the impossibly hard things she and Percy and their friends had been through worth it.

Maybe that was what Luke had lost. He'd given up hope. Annabeth thought that was probably true, and she ached for him. That must have been terrible, to lose sight of hope. Annabeth was determined to never make the same mistake.

So she leaned into Percy's arm, lacing her fingers through his, and letting herself smile at the brilliant flashes of light from the second round of fireworks. Apparently, the Hephaestus cabin had been having a lot of fun with explosives, helped out by a few Hermes and Ares campers.

When Percy kissed her forehead, Annabeth felt a hopeful flutter in her chest.

Hope.

That was the magic word.

She had graduated from high school. She had completed her first year of college. Both of those things seemed as incredible and had once seemed as unlikely as the fact that she had managed to survive being on the front lines of two wars. And now, she was hoping for a future she had once never even dared to dream about.

It felt good to be nineteen.

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of packing

11pm, saturday, july 15, 2023

the things i could be doing right now could fill multiple volumes, but i listened to a podcast today about academic (im)perfectionism and am deciding i don't need to feel guilty. this summer's Big European Travel starts tomorrow and I! am! nervois! but i've done some smaller trips recently which helped me work up to this in a way. further media and life musings below the cut.

reading i had a few weeks there where my recreational reading was... a little bleak, in that i was reading things that felt dated and/or formulaic and/or just put me straight to sleep, thereby meaning that i took much longer than i normally like to finish anything-- this was enlivened with two excellent new instalments from two different series i love, anne leckie's translation state and samantha shannon's a day of fallen night.

very very fun now thinking of these back to back. two books were so engrossing, built (and built on) such rich worlds, such good command of the vibes/atmosphere/tone they were going for, but so different! to sound like a book reviewer for a moment, leckie's prose is sort of lean where shannon's is lush, something like that. there's a joke in here based on the meme that goes 'sci-fi is where x, fantasy is where y' but i'm too tired to work it out myself. both of these books say-- so there are incomprehensible beings in your world which may wish to eat and/or destroy you, and some people have found ways to work or live with them, but it is very weird and alien to your way of life. day of fallen night feels more like a climate metaphor, and there is plenty that felt pulled straight from the psyche of the years 2020-2023. both do fun/interesting things with gender and relationships, and both made me want to go re-read their respective predecessors to heighten the feeling of connection and resonance with those other works.

watching mostly dimension 20-- i introduced @yogurtforever to fantasy high last week, and I myself have been working my way through the toy island arc of neverafter-- but here is the place to mention watching netflix's new documentary about WHAM!, of all things, with @yogurtforever and @thehibernatinglentil last weekend.

not being a documentary hound, i never would have watched this without friends, but it was genuinely quite fun! i didn't know a ton about wham! or george michael, which i now realize is a shame because there's a lot to know. making up for it by having the lyrics to their first hit single, the inimitable 'wham rap', stuck in my head for the next 200 years.

listening due in no small part to the wham! doc (and an mama mia 2 rewatch the week before that), i put on a lot of throwback music this week. it ended up being more 70s than 80s, and that got me thinking about how strongly my parents' music taste influenced mine. there are so many good artists from ~back then~ who i have found out about later, because we just didn't listen to them at home? and of the vinyl i remember finding in the basement, you know, it wasn't bowie, it wasn't fleetwood mac, it wasn't springsteen (it was james taylor and paul simon and probably joni mitchell). luckily, summer camp taught me all the lyrics to a bunch of other oldies, and we did listen to the radio oldies station quite a lot, so my education wasn't entirely deficient. i bring this week the don maclean song 'vincent', which i will be thinking a lot about for one reason and another this week.

playing i have, at long, long last, completed my stardew community center. it was a little anticlimactic, after all the travail that went into it, but i'm so pleased. it only took like two actual human real life years! the last thing i needed was a rabbit's foot, and now at last i feel like i can move to the next tier of game play. i remain unmarried, fighting for my life in skull cavern, but now with two small bunnies to love.

making trying to figure out how to eat most of the food i have in the fridge, how to use up things and make the most of what i have and not leave anything to spoil for the next little while, so i haven't really been cooking big projects. i've been 'making' appointments, got my eyes checked, had coffee with two different profs and chatted with a former student about her med school applications, and that's about it!

working on conference paper, which is both a slideshow (graphic design is my passion, this part is mostly fine) and a draft of what might turn into usable words for the chapter i'm working on. naturally i have built it up into the Biggest Scariest Most Important task, and so am avoiding it and finding it miserable to work on. and i still have time! i had wanted to not work on it on the plane, during my travel week, etc., but there is actually time. there's time. and i keep having small breakthroughs, after 2-5 hours of dicking around, which allow me to believe that there is an end in sight. other things to be worked on, for when i have some 'free' 'time'-- newsletter draft that's so very overdue, multiple students asking for detailed essay feedback and grade breakdowns, emails from students asking for other things, recommendation letter, the next chapter that i'm meant to be finishing this summer. luckily, it's a long plane ride.

[bikepackinguk]

Day Forty-one

The rains kept coming down and down last night. Took a while to drift off due to various aches and pains making themselves known and the rains were still going this morning on waking!

Thankfully the subsided a little after half seven to allow me to start getting on with striking camp and getting on with the day.

First up is finishing off the slog up the hill to get into the next valley, where I zoom back downhill to Badnagyle.

It's a turn westward here to head past the large Loch Osgaig, before a loop around past Achnahaird beach on to Altandhu for our first views across to the Summer Isles.

The sky is a continguous monotone of grey today, but the view still looks like something from a tropical destination, with multiple island bays and beaches stretching away.

Onwards, there's some more climbing oast a couple of smaller lochs before dropping back down past Bardentarbet Pier and on through Achiltibuie along the coastline.

Alas there's no through road past Culnacraig, so it's back up the road again all the way to Badnagyle by where the day's ride started, instead heading out east. The skies finally start to let out a steady drizzle of rain as we head onward.

The coastal loop hadn't been too heavy on the climbs but with the riad heading back inland now, it's a ling and continual ascent up and up and up the valley. The craggy mountains loom overhead to the left, and the right side droos down past the rocks to Loch Bad a' Ghaill and Loch Lurgainn.

it's a good 8 miles of long climb out along the single track road, with numerous campervans and impatient tourists making it quite a bit of work.

Finally it's out of one slog and into another, as the route exits onto the A835 towards Ullapool. The traffic picks up again, but with some better road surfaces I can at least start making some better speed.

We get some spikey hills before a run along the coastline at Ardmair, which the continuous rains put a slight dampner on the views.

The last few miles in to Ullapool are soke big steep climbs with some busy traffic which make for some very unenjoyable pushing, but finally it's a cruise back down to sea level to make it to Ullapool and the ahops to restock on supplies.

It's mid afternoon at this point and the rains show absolutely no sign of stopping. On the contrary, the forecast has them getting a good bit worse and barely letting up all day and night.

I ponder getting a cheap hostel but Ullapool is a popular stop. But a happenstance conversation with a random passer by sees me offered a sofa for the night as well as a nice hot bath! Utter luxury!

The kindness of strangers continues to be a humbling experience. I'm the cleanest I've been since leaving Inverness, and sat in a very soft sofa to let the muscles recouperate a deal before cracking at the next set of hills tomorrow. Friends who complained that I was going too fast earlier in the ride, West Scotland's hills are slowing me down nicely for you!

Sleep well all! I know I will!

[keefwho]

September 03 - 2024 Tuesday

10:26pm

5/10

I was tired again this morning for some reason but not as bad as yesterday. I did the bare minimum I had to do for my workout and cleaning. I made spaghetti and meatballs for breakfast and I put mixed vegetables in it which wasn't very good. I hung out with BR and JG while I ate and then worked. They made the stream pretty fun, they also watched Rugrats and Little Bear with us which I loved. I meant to get today's commission done but I struggled a little and only got very close to finishing.

At lunch again I had little appetite, mostly because of a lack of variety. I made soup again but I was careful to make it just right and it came out delicious. It really is an art despite being an instant mix packet. It sparked my appetite so I made cheese and crackers afterwards. I tried to treat my lunch with some respect and I watched Summer Camp Island intently trying not to think about anything else.

In the afternoon I did a request for BR which she paid extra to have another character in it. Then instead of drawing my own idea, I just worked on putting another outfit on my avatar. I almost did the whole thing in an hour.

In the evening I just played Simcity 4 pretty much. I've been nerding out about how to make an effective grid and curb the traffic issues but I think it's actually impossible given Simmars's lack of certain road types and how much everyone loves to use their cars despite so much high speed public transport.

TK wanted to hop on VR tonight but it was too late, we plan to hang out tomorrow instead. Im looking forward to that. She's the only person who proposes plans to me even if it's not too often.

Today I was putting a little extra effort into putting myself in other people's shoes and what it's like to read the texts I send. It helped pick my words more carefully.

I can't help but feel like I can't be myself if I want to belong anywhere. And by extension, I feel like I can't be me to be loved. I can't imagine anyone on Earth looking at me thinking "yep, he's the one for me." I feel like I'm not quite right or not good enough.

[umichenginabroad]

Abhi in Paris

Week 12: Wrapping Up & Starting up my Next Travel Adventure

Hello folks! I’m so glad to be back because this week is the start of something big. Excuse me for a this late post, things have been so busy. This blog is about last week & I'll most about my travels this week in the next few days. On Friday last week, begins ENSEA’s second extended two week break. I’ve been planning a 16 day trip backpacking through Italy from the North down to the South. It starts with a train across the French Italian Border into Milan and then down to Tuscany to visit a few Tuscan cities including Florence. After that, I’m most excited to go further south to Rome and experience Roman history & food. Finally, I will travel down into Sicily to spend a few days at the beach in small towns & then a few days on the Aeolian Island of Stromboli. But first, I’ve got to finish out the week strong at ENSEA!

Monday, April 1st – Something I forgot to mention earlier, last we spoke I was still finishing out a week in Germany. Monday was the last day of this trip & an eventful one at that. After an early wake up, I rushed on a local commuter train to Oranienburg, a suburb of Berlin, to visit Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp. It was a sobering sight, one that puts everything you’ve learned about the Holocaust into perspective. I got to see firsthand the houses where prisoners were kept, the fields where they labored, the towers of guards that watches over them, and the gas chambers where unspeakable acts were committed. It was truly a scary sight that I will never forget.

After this visit, I got some Italian food for lunch and then visited another piece of the Berlin Wall and Checkpoint Charlie. Both our critical pieces of Cold War History that were so fun to witness. Finally, I headed back to Berlin Hauptbahnhof Train Station to hop onto an overnight seat car train to Paris Est. It was a very different experience than I’m used to. I’m not sure I would take an overnight train again, after all the noise and lack of personal space, but it was a cool experience, nonetheless.

Tuesday, April 2nd – My overnight train arrived in Paris in the morning right around 10am. After a restless night, it was tough to get up and take the metro back home. After which, I completely crashed until I had to run to French Class at ESNEA in the afternoon. Today was an important day in French Class, we were doing a speaking presentation based on a trip we took in the past tense, and I had spent the overnight train working on it. I was a bit nervous, but I ended up killing it, and then taking the train back home for the night.

Wednesday, April 3rd, Thursday, April 4th & Friday, April 5th  – The next few days were smooth and nothing super eventful occurred. I spent most of my time relaxing and studying for a Power Engineering midterm exam that I took on Friday. But Friday evening was packed – packing up and getting everything ready for the trip to Italy. I was taking a large 60L trekking bag that was perfect for this sort of European backpacking adventure. I ended up getting a midnight dinner with some friends after packing up and getting a good night’s sleep before the next day’s journey.

Saturday, April 6th – A record high temperature for the spring in Paris today kicked off the morning. It was 70 degrees F around 10am, when I went out for a quick walk. I then grabbed my bag and headed to Paris Est for my afternoon train. It was a wild train ride. First a TGV train to the nearest French border town that took around 4 hours. Then, they put us on a bus to cross the border, because of a huge avalanche that compromised the tracks last year. The train met us on the other side and took us through to Turin and into Milan. By the time I arrived it was midnight, so I had time to grab a quick dinner at a bar and then crash.

Sunday, April 7th – Sunday was a beautiful day in Milan. I got ready in my summer clothes (finally a break from the usual cold of Paris), and headed to an amazing brunch place, Biancolatte, to enjoy some coffee, pastries, and pasta. Afterwards, I spent the day exploring the sites at the center of Milan, specifically the Duomo, the Galleria, and Navigli canal. It was a day of shopping & food, representative of Milan.

Next week, I’ll use the Italian train system to traverse cities & villages across Italy as I make my way southward!! Thanks for reading.

Ciao,

Abhi Athreya

ENSEA at Cergy, France

University of Michigan, Aerospace Engineering 2025

[nella09archive]

Marriage. 86

Chapter 86: Family camping trip

It was almost the end of the summer, and dad is making us have a family camping trip. He even invited Bulma, Vegeta, and Trunks, plus Videl and her dad. We even packed this time. We were going to go camping to a far-off island, instead on Mt Paozu. This is going to be so much fun. But I still don’t get why we need to pack. Mom was the one who said we had to pack. Why doesn’t Gohan or dad ever pack? Gohan said it was because that’s what he’s use to. But this trip is going to have so many people, and mom said there’s going to be a lot to do.

We were all in Bulma’s airship, as we went to the idea. I still didn’t get why we couldn’t fly ahead of everyone. Not even our dads were flying. At least Videl and her dad didn’t have to be stuck with on this flight. Maybe if they were, it could have been fun. At least me and Trunks are looking forward with playing with Buu. When we finally landed on the island, dad disappeared. As everyone was setting up camp, me and Trunks were allowed to look around the island. When we sense that dad returned, we went back to the camp site.

We asked Buu and Videl to play with us, and we were so happy they agreed. Even Gohan was going to play with us. This was going to be so much fun. Videl was it, and everyone had to hide. No way she’ll find us; especially since she can’t sense ki.

…

“Looks like the brats are going to drive that girl mad.”

“You think so? I think the boys are in trouble with that one.” Vegeta just shook his head. We then finished helping the girls set up. “I’m surprised that Bulma is actually not using a capsule home.” That’s when I felt something hit me. I look back to see an angry Bulma, screaming she heard me. “I wasn’t trying to whisper.”

That’s when she took out a gun. “This is my new toy, and I need a test dummy. Shut it, or else.” I just started snicker as I finished helping Chichi. She then asked if I mind to get the kids. That’s when we saw Videl dragging a very angry Goten and Trunks.

“How did you find them?”

“Told them I had candy.”

“You cheater! That’s not how you play hide and seek.”

“Says the one who threw a fish at my face.” The boys started laughing at that.

“So, where’s Buu and Gohan?” She looked at me, and then dragged the boys to me. Once I took them, she flew off. “I guess she still haven’t found them.” I then looked at the boys. “You two threw a fish at Videl.”

“She started it with that whole candy thing. When we found out she was lying we tried to get away, and we dove into a lake. And she followed us!” Trunks was nodding in agreement. “We were so surprised, and panicked that she was going to catch us. So, we threw a fish at her so we could escape. We were wrong, because we don’t know when she became fast enough to catch us.”

“And now we’re stuck here.” Wow, impressive. Gohan is going to have his hands full with that one. That’s when I saw Hercule taking out a cell phone. I went over to him and told him none of that. That’s when something peeked my interested, but it’s none of my business. Where’s Videl’s mom? Again, none of my business.

As camping trip goes, I think this one is going pretty well. We were having fun. I even saw that Vegeta was smiling. The boys also kept trying to get Gohan to play with them. They even tried getting Videl to play. I should have told Gohan no books, but I’m glad I didn’t. Videl even brought books. As long as they’re having fun. I was even having a good time with Chichi.

Today was very calming day, as I watched the boys having a little sparring match. Me and Chichi was just sitting under a tree, until we were approached by Videl and Gohan. Gohan was nudging her, and saying she should just ask. It took her a moment, but when she spoke, she stood at attention. “Would you spar with me?” Uh? “Gohan said you’re better than him. On top of that, you’re well known in the martial arts world. Some even say you’re even stronger than my dad.” I’m still confused, and I looked down at Chichi and she was smiling. Then Chichi started pushing me to get up. Guess I’m sparring with Videl.

When we found a nice spot for a quick spar, that’s when I notice that everyone was watching us. We bow to each other and got in our stance. She could use work, but I’ll keep my comments to myself. During the match she did catch me by surprise here and there. I was even impressed with her skill. Nowhere as good as my Chichi, but good in her own right. By the time she called the match she sat down. She was out of breath but had a big smile. I couldn’t help smile at her. “You did very good. Work on your breathing, and guard your right better.” She looked at me surprised, then said thank you. That’s when Goten shouted that Chichi should spar with me next. I looked over to her. Are you up to it? Sure, why not.

…

Seeing Gohan parents spar I couldn’t believe my eyes. Gohan wasn’t kidding, when he said that his mom is the strongest female ever. I couldn’t land one hit on his dad, but his mom got at least a few. Plus, their spar went longer than mines. I was in completely shock. Gohan’s parents really can be consider the strongest couple. So, wait, how is that even possible?

…

It felt great to actually spar with Goku like this. Maybe I’m not as rusty as I thought. That or he’s letting me get some hits in. Silly husband. Really think I don’t see that you’re just playing with me. Once we were done, there was a round of applause, and everyone cheering for me. I felt weird having all this attention. I started to fidget with my fingers. Then I felt Goku moving hair out of my face. I felt my face burn, as Goku smiled at me. Soon we were watching everyone take their turns at a sparring match.

When the day ended, and everyone went to their tents, Goku and I took a walk. As we walked, he had a hand on my hip. “Is something the matter, Goku?” He didn’t say anything and just pulled me closer. This felt kind of romantic. So, I didn’t bother asking any more questions. We soon came upon a lake, and we sat by the edge. He was kissing my forehead. This just felt so nice. I then felt his hand finding its way to holding my left breast, and his other hand rubbing my upper thigh. I just knew something was up. “Goku?” When I looked at him, he dropped a kissed to my lips.

The moment I was able to breathe he attacked my neck. He basically purring against my skin. “You’re still so amazing.” He nipped my earlobe. “If we weren’t surround by everyone, I would have taken you then and there.” I felt a shiver going up my spine. “It was so hard to not react to you.” He pinned me under him, as he rubbed my sides. “I so badly want to take you now.” He licked his lips, and he was giving me that look, the look as if he wanted to eat me. “I know I promise I’ll behave during this trip, but you make it so hard.” He started kissing me, and his tongue demanding entrance. I couldn’t hold back my moans, as I felt him rubbing my body. The kiss was getting heated, and it was clear he wanted more. Heck, I want more. But it took me everything to push him off me.

I held his disappointed face in my hands. “Goku, we can’t. Not here. Not when everyone is so close by.” He kissed my nose and got off me. He was now just sitting next to me. Once I sat up, I readjusted my clothes, that he clearly was trying to take off. Once done, I hugged his arm. “Goku.” He looked down at me. “I love you.” He smiled and kissed my forehead.

“Am I really that irresistible to you?”

He tiled my head back, so he could land a passionate kiss on my lips. He was a mere hair away, as he spoke. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah.” He then began kissing me again. I don’t know how, but we ended up sleeping by the lake. Come morning, we were being woken up by Goten. As I tried to get up, I was being held tighter by Goku. Silly husband. I tried waking him up, and it took a minute. Goten then told us how not even Gohan was able to wake us. It was kind of funny. The rest of the trip went by smoothly, even if a certain husband couldn’t do certain things.

…

Once the camping trip was over, and everyone was home, it felt great. Spending time with everyone felt great, but it’s also great to be home. It was great to do something as a family, and even get to see how happy my Gohan is with Videl. But as much fun that was, I’m glad we’re all home. Now I get to enjoy my wife, with only having to worry about the boys. Now, where is she? I know the boys went to their rooms, but as I try to sense Chichi, she’s not in our room. She’s… in the kitchen? As I walk to the kitchen, there she is. We did come after lunch, so, it’s too early to make dinner. What is she up to?

I hug her from behind, and kiss her cheek. “Is something the matter, Chichi?” She tells me nothing is wrong, just that she was putting something away. That’s when I see what was in her hands. It was the flower I placed in her hair, this morning. “You know. No flower could ever match your beauty.”

“Awe. When did you become such a romantic?”

“Maybe all the movies we used to watched together finally got through to me.” We both started giggling at that. I then purred in her ear. “Tonight, no excuses. You’re not getting away from me this time.” I then gave one of her butt cheeks a firm squeeze.

She then held my hand in place, and looked up at me. “I want to be on top. And no. You’re not allow to control the pace.” I kissed her nose, and said maybe. “Hey. No fair.” She crossed her arms and looked away.

I gave her behind a nice slap, and she looked at me. “That’s the attitude that makes it hard to let you stay in control.” I kissed her lips, then her jawline to her ear. I purred how I hope she keeps that attitude up. “But I’ll try to behave, and not make you scream.” I then saw her face go completely red as she begins to pound my chest. When she stops, I point down, and then she turns away. I then kissed her neck, and purred against her skin. “Don’t wear anything to bed, and I might forgive you for what happened on the camping trip.” She gave me a shock face, as she tried to get away from me. Silly little wife. She really thought I would forget her teasing my tail stub, when we were calling it a night. Then, to top it off, when we were alone, she didn’t let me get her back. She did that during the whole camping trip. Putting me on edge, and craving her like crazy.

She really thinks she was going to get away with that. My wife should know better than to tease me, and not think I won’t get her back. Probably being away for so long she probably forgot how crazy she gets me. Tonight, not only will I get her back, but I’m going to make sure she wishes I didn’t stop. I been very nice, but clearly, she needs some reminders.

During dinner I noticed how on edge seemed. She even sat away from me. Silly wife. It’s not going to save you for long. I spent time with the boys as she washed dishes. Gohan was even doing push-ups with me. I even suggested to them it might be a nice night to listen to music as they slept. Gohan gave me a face, and then told Goten he was sleeping in his room tonight. Goten asked why, and Gohan only said because he just wanted to. I’m so proud of my Gohan. I really need to do something special for him.

After I put the boys to bed, I hurried to greet an angry wife. After what she did, she shouldn’t be angry. When I entered our room, she was still dressed. Oh no you don’t. I said I wanted you naked, and so you’re going to be naked. I picked her up, and went into our bathroom. She was still all mad when I sat her down. “Start taking off clothes, now.” She said no, and turned away from me. “So, be it. You want to be mad? I’ll give you a reason.” I ripped her sash off. She turned around, ready to hit me, but I stopped her. I quickly undid the buttons of her top, and unknot her scarf. She tried fighting me to stop. “I told you, I wanted you naked when it was time for bed.” She held her top up, and turned from me.

“How dare you? I did nothing wrong. So, I don’t understand why I have to be naked.” Oh, she wants to play it like that. Fine by me. I started taking off my clothes, and was only down to my boxers when I turned her to face me.

“Let’s see. A certain wife was teasing me the whole trip. Especially knowing full well, I promised to be on my best behavior.” She then looked away. Oh no you don’t. I gently made her look at me. “Get undress, take a shower with me, and I’m having you all night long.” Her face just couldn’t get any redder. “If you don’t start behaving, I’m no longer going to hold back.” With that she finally started to get out of her clothes.

When she was finally naked, I held her close, as I purred against her ear. “Was that so hard?” She shook her head. “Now get your butt into the shower.” As she did, I finally got rid of my boxers and joined her. As we showered, I couldn’t keep my hands or lips off her. I wanted to taste and touch every last inch of her. once I reached her wonder core, were she smelled and tasted the sweetest, I couldn’t resist digging into my favorite meal. I flicked and sucked at her button of nerves, stuffing my fingers into her wet channel. It drive me insane having her like this. But it gets me so angry when I can’t hear her screams of pleasure. I can’t blame her, but doesn’t make me any less angry.

When she came into my mouth, I held onto her sweet juices. I want her to taste how good she is. The moment I released her legs, I attacked her mouth, feeding her every dip of herself. The moan that produce was just beautiful. I was so ready to thrust my dick into her, when she parted the kiss, and got to her knees and took me in. My perfect little wife, is too good to me. As much as I love her mouth sucking me off, I rather be kissing it while I thrust into her tight core. She worked me till I came, and without warning she kissed me. She kissed me with my seed still in that wonderful mouth of hers. Tasting ourselves was such a rush that I came again as we kissed. I then wrapped her legs around me, as I thrusted into her.

“You drive me crazy.” I attacked her neck. I could feel her raking my back, and it only made me slam into her harder. I then felt her raking my tail stub, and I had to bite my lip, to not let a moan escape. That felt so good. This perfect woman in my hands just knows how to drive me up the wall. I nip the side of her ear, as I continued to thrust faster. “I love you so much.” She breathless said how she loves me too. With that we both came, and then actually took a shower.

As we entered back to our room, she tried to go to the dresser for clothes. I stopped her. “I said I’m taking you all night.” She looked ready to challenge me, and that got me excited. I held her closer, and purred against her lips. “What exactly are you going to do?” I kissed her, till I felt her raking her nails on my chest. “Mm.” Before long we went at it all through the room. I’m surprised we managed to not break anything. And she was surprised that I had senzu beans. “Why you think it took so long to drop off Videl and her dad?” She had the most shock expression I saw yet. Even when the sun rose, we were still going at it like animals. If I didn’t sense that the boys were starting to wake up, we could have gone another round or two.

…

When mom came down to make breakfast, there was something off with her. Like she couldn’t walk, and she looked super tired. Dad on the other hand had a huge smile, and was helping mom to the kitchen. I looked at Gohan and he was shaking his head. What’s going on? Also, Gohan tried really hard to hide behind a book. I hope he’s ok. But what really bothers me is how tired mom looked. She never looked that tired before. Also, she was more covered up than usually. Is mommy hurt? I also saw how dad kept a close eye on mom.

The rest of the day mom seemed fine. And whenever dad got near her, she smacked him with her frying pan. What did dad do to get mom that angry? I tried asking Gohan, but somehow, he had escape to his room. When it came to lunch time, I tried helping mom; thankfully she let me. Even though mom was clearly angry with dad, he still wore a big smile on his face. When Gohan came down for lunch, he ate as fast as possible and left to his room again. What’s going on? After lunch, dad told mom he was going to do a little training, and mom spit out that was good. When dad left, mom went to her room. When I looked inside, she was taking a nap. “Mom really was exhausted.”

Dinner time, mom nor dad was nowhere to be seen. Me and Gohan went to check on mom; she was still sleeping. Gohan tried reaching dad, but no answer. “Guess we’re making our own dinner tonight.” Gohan isn’t that great a cook as mom, but sure is better than dad. As we ate, dad finally walked inside. He looked at us, then the stairs, then back at us. After he took off his shoes, he went upstairs, then came back with mom. She looked better, but still sleepy.

…

I can’t believe that man. He actually meant it when he said all night. We’re not that young anymore. We can’t do that. We’re parents! But oh my, the fact he had senzu beans just for last night was crazy. It felt like forever since we pulled an all nightery. Even though I was angry with him all morning, I have to admit it felt great being like that. Even though we had sex since he been revived, but never like last night. Last night was just so chaotic, that I don’t even think we actually done something like that before.

Our lives is still recovering, but it feels like something is off. Goku has changed. Before it was only during the full moon that trigger his aggressive side. Even when we had our time during this pass full moon, this just seems different. What really did he go through while dead for 7 years? Is he hiding something from me? He changed a lot? Or it’s probably just all in my head. I do admit I changed a lot too. When the boys were both in school, I took up gardening as a hobby. It even helped that I didn’t have to buy certain vegetables anymore. Maybe me and Goku could do it together? Wouldn’t that be nice. Then it hit me. Maybe Goku could grow veggies and sell them to make money! That’s a perfect idea. I hope he likes it.

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

Ch85

[pillage-and-lute]

(For next time you’re looking for prompts) I really like your writing, and when I thought of this I wondered what you’d do with it: Geralt and Jaskier are together, but agree to pretend not to be for their next stop. Maybe one of them wants to win an old bet, or Jaskier’s not 100% sure his betrothal to a local noble has been officially dissolved, whatever, (not homophobia), fluff and high jinx ensue. Anyway I hope something unexpectedly nice happens to you today.

Hi Dahliavandare! Thanks for the blessing in my inbox  🥰

This ran away from me, tons of backstory about Jaskier’s family. Just, way too much.

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“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “I have an errand we need to run, and I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Geralt hummed noncommittally. They were resting at their camp outside of Hagge and the warm summer air and the feeling of Jaskier curled against him had lulled him into a warm, fuzzy stupor.

“You see,” Jaskier continued, fiddling with the buttons at his cuffs. “I’m a noble, and you know that of course.” He laughed awkwardly. “And I’ve been lucky enough to pawn most of those responsibilities off onto my much savvier sister, but there are certain niceties that landed families observe that--”

“Spit it out,” Geralt grumbled, although not bad naturedly. 

“I’m betrothed,” Jaskier said. “And we need to go to Gwendeith to break it off.”

Geralt turned to look at his beloved. “You’re engaged?”

“Betrothed!” Jaskier yelped, then saw Geralt’s expression. “Oh, dear heart, there’s a slight difference in meaning, especially to nobles. Engaged implies an intent to marry--”

“And betrothed doesn’t?”

“Well, sort of, but I’ve been betrothed practically since I was born, engaged would imply I’m sort of planning the wedding. It’s a contract, a social contract. My family and my betrothed’s are pretty minor nobles, so really it’s just a way of saying ‘maybe someday our kids could marry’. It isn’t the hard and fast marriage it might be if I were, say, a prince.”

“Then why do it?” Geralt asked. Most of the time he was happy to understand as little of the lives of the gentry as possible, but Jaskier was important.

“Honestly,” Jaskier sighed. “I think Papa arranged it because he cared for me, Mama too.”

“It takes away your choice,” Geralt began.

“It doesn’t. A betrothal like mine and... Iliana, that’s her name, only met her twice, it’s sort of social insurance. Especially for her, but for me as well. Nobles are supposed to marry, so, if at some point neither of us had found love we could marry one another. For Iliana there’s the security of having a husband, although from what I’ve heard she can handle herself fine, and for me its assurance of heirs if that sort of thing concerned me, and companionship for us both.”

It sounded...mostly sort of logical to Geralt.

“But I love you,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t want to be betrothed to anyone because I love you and, someday, whenever you get over you allergy to the concept of commitment, I’m going to put a ring on you.”

Geralt hummed gruffly but said nothing. There was a slim golden band hidden away in his bags and he be damned if Jaskier got to propose first.

“I will. Anyway, I need to tell Iliana. I’m sure she won’t mind. I met her once when I was seven and again when I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen, when?” Geralt asked. Most of Jaskier’s nineteenth year had been spent at Geralt’s side. Most of every year after that too.

“Just before I met you. I had travelled east to meet her originally, and was going back west when we met.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Illiana? Oh, well, she told me that she was fine leaving the betrothal in place because it’s standard, but that she doesn’t care for men in that way so she’d never give me heirs and would have my balls nailed above her door if I ever told her she had to.”

“Sounds like she’d get along with Yen.”

“I fear they’d take over the world,” Jaskier said. “Anyway, I told her no worries since, honestly, heirs just aren’t important to me. Then we agreed that when either of us found love we’d break the betrothal and that would be that.”

“Hmmm.”

“No, Geralt, tell me what that means. Is that a ‘okay, let’s go to Gwendeith’ hum? A ‘I’m angry that you’re betrothed’ hum?”

Geralt shifted to poke the fire. “It’s a ‘I think there’s more you need to tell me’ hum.”

“Ah,” Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. We have to go in person because a letter would be rude, but also...we have to pretend not to be together, while we’re in Gwedeith.”

“Why?”

“It’s politics, dear heart. It would be shaming to Iliana, socially. Personally, I don’t think she’d care, but it’s a courtesy thing.”

“I don’t do a lot of lovey stuff anyway,” Geralt said. 

“You think you don’t,” Jaskier said. He began to unroll their bedroll.

“What do you mean, Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned to him, smiling indulgently and gilded in the firelight. “Our lives have molded around one another, my love. When I stand beside you your hand goes to my back or my shoulder. You order dinner for me because you know just what food I like. When I’m tired you don’t have to ask what’s wrong, you just lift me onto Roach behind you.”

Geralt hadn’t even realized he did, but he knew it was true. Jaskier leaned over and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s slightly furrowed brow.

“When my boots are wearing thin you buy me new ones before I even notice. When I’m cold you give me your cloak. If I fall asleep with my head on your shoulder you’d rather sit like that all night than disturb me.”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “You buy me beeswax,” he said. It seemed a fair retort. Jaskier bought him beeswax to put in his ears when cities or sometimes monsters were too loud for Geralt’s senses. “You only buy light scents, even though I know you like bolder perfumes.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, taking one of Geralt’s large, scarred hands. “We love eachother very much, and it’s obvious to people who care to look.”

“That could be dangerous,” Geralt began, his head spiralling towards worry for Jaskier’s safety, but Jaskier cut him off.

“No, dear heart. It’s obvious to those who care to look. The sort of people who would hurt me for loving you, well, most of them think you can’t love, so they don’t look for love, and they don’t see.” 

Geralt sat back. People saw what they expected to see, it was true. 

“We’ll travel to Gwendeith,” he said. “And unbetroth you.”

Jaskier kissed him and his lips tasted like the jerky they’d eaten for supper.

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

The trip to Gwendeith was long. It was at the very edge of any map, past Posada to the east, tucked into the Blue mountains.  They traveled along the Dyfne river, taking the occasional contract but making good time. This far from anything, there were few people to be troubled by monsters. 

They stopped in Posada one night, eating dinner in the corner of a familiar tavern. This time, however, Jaskier was much better received and the bread ended up on the table rather than down his trousers.

Past Posada, and almost to the end of the Dyfne river, Geralt asked, “Why did your parents pick Iliana? How did they know of her?” Lettenhove was entirely the other side of the continent, a tiny island off the coast of Poviss with two villages and a couple flocks of sheep. 

Geralt only knew of it from Jaskier’s descriptions, which were mostly stories of the ice cold sea and rocky cliffs. He tended toward calling it ‘idyllic’ and ‘picturesque’ altough occassionally ‘the arse end of the world’ and ‘colder than an ice giant’s ballsack.’ The first time Geralt had taken Jaskier to Kaer Morhen he’d feared for his bard’s safety in the cold of the mountains, but Jaskier hadn’t even blinked an eye, merely bundling up in a hugely wooly cloak and mittens. 

“Ah, well,” Jaskier said. “Long story, but Papa was in Temeria, see, since nothing ever happens in Lettenhove, because we have more people than sheep, he get’s sent on diplomatic missions a lot. He’s good at it, and he can be spared. He loves it too, even though he’s sort of retired he still does them. Takes Ma, calls the trips his little “sunshine vacations”. 

“You get your personality from your father, then?” Geralt asked. Jaskier didn’t talk about his family much, and Geralt got the sense that, rather than this being because they were horrible, Jaskier simply missed them too much. 

“Definitely. Ma’s lovely, and brilliant with just everything to do with her hands, but she’s not good with people. I got her looks, though.”

“I should thank her, then,” Geralt said, smiling. 

Jaskier chuckled. “Yes, she’s the reason for the long lives, too, fantastic story.”

“Finish the one about your father and Gwendeith first.”

“Right, so Papa was in Temeria, and so was Iliana’s father, sort of the mayor of Gwendeith, as I understand, although not back then. He’d gotten robbed, though, and Papa had won a horse and quite a lot of gold in a card game. It might have been Gwent, I can’t remember. If you ever meet Papa you should ask him. Anyway, he gave the extra horse and gold to Iliana’s father.”

“So your betrothal was a debt?”

“Goodness, no. This was years before I was born, Papa hadn’t even met Ma yet. No, they struck up a friendship, because when Iliana’s father got home he had a mage send a message to Papa to thank him and they struck up a friendship.”

“Sending messages by mage? That’s expensive for a penpal.”

“Ah well, that actually ties in to the story about Ma. Ma’s got magic, just a little, she’s a hedge witch of a sort. The issue is, hedge witches mostly use plants, and Ma couldn’t grow grass, so she mostly works with wood. Anyway, she has a friend, her very best friend, is a mage. They grew up together, and my Auntie Szarlotta sent my Papa’s first few messages back to Iliana’s father.”

Geralt smiled atop Roach. Jaskier’s storytelling pace was as familiar as Roach’s saddle, and it was calming in a way. 

“So, Auntie was sending Papa’s message when Ma came in to visit. That’s how she met Papa, because she’d only just moved to Lettenhove. Auntie says it was love at first sight, but Papa insists that Ma turned up her nose and ignored him for months.”

“Which one is it?”

“Knowing Ma, probably both. She’s a little like you, so the second she realized she liked Papa she ignored him so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Geralt huffed good-naturedly.

“Anyway, Auntie Szarlotta agreed to send Papa’s messages for free, and she even included a way for Iliana’s father to send them back, so long as he wrote his response on the back of the same paper. She always timed it though, so that Ma was over when Papa was there. And I guess the rest is history.”

“Except the immortality.”

“Right, well, Ma got really sick when she was pregnant with my sister, I was little so I barely remember but Papa was so worried, and Ma looked really pale. Well, Auntie got really worried, freaked out a little, and she found all these old spells to try to make Ma well again. I remeber the light, she was working in a room of the old lighthouse and I could see the light of her spells from my window. Anyway, eventually she tries some on Ma, but they don’t work, and she just keeps trying.”

Geralt had an image of a frantic sorceress being watched by a young Jaskier through a crack in a door. 

“But I suppose some of those old spells need a little time to work because nothing at all worked and then they all sort of worked at once. There was this big, bright light and then Ma was well, and she and Papa haven’t aged a day since then.”

Geralt glanced at his lover, who looked the same at fifty as he had at twenty. “And you don’t age? What about your sister?”

“Ksenia hasn’t aged either. She looks like Papa, just so you know, grey eyes, blonde hair. She’s got two kids, now, but I haven’t met them.”

“Do the kids age?”

“Right now they’re very young,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t stop aging until nineteen or twenty, so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

“How do you know she has kids?”

“Oh, well, Auntie Szarlotta sends letters to me, but we travel and it’s hard to send them right to me, so I just pick them up at Oxenfurt.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. He needed to go to Lettenhove. Jaskier had met his sort-of-family, he should meet Jaskier’s. 

“I’d love to go see them...” Jaskier said, wistfully. 

“Who?”

“My niece and nephew, they’re almost two and three years old now.”

Geralt picked Jaskier up by the collar of his doublet and placed him onto the back of Roach. 

“We’ll spend the winter in Lettenhove this year,” he said as Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist.

“Really?”

“Hmmm.”

Geralt needed to ask Jaskier’s father for his hand in marriage, anyway.

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

They made it to Gwendeith just after mid summer, riding into the little town at noon. Despite the season, the little mountain valley was shaded and cool. Jaskier shivered slightly and Geralt had to resist the urge to pull his cloak from his pack. From that point forth, they weren’t supposed to be in love.

Fuck.

They had to request a meeting with the mayor, which didn’t surprise Geralt. In a town such as this, logging and mining were the main industries. Trading for food to last over the winter began early and was of the utmost importance. That left Geralt and Jaskier, unfortunately, sitting with a man who introduced himself as Sir Boris.

Apparently he was a retired knight who acted as a sort of captain of the guard, except there wasn’t much of a guard. His wife Lady Olenka joined them and the two of them talked about their grandchildren until Geralt could feel his eyes rolling back in his head. 

At any other time, Jaskier would have placed one gentle hand on his wrist, which would have fortified Geralt, but they couldn’t. 

“But you’re here for Iliana,” Sir Boris was saying. “Dreadfully sorry you can’t see her today, I’m afraid there’s been an issue with the lumber trade to sort out. You’ll just have to have my darling Lenka and I as company until that’s done.”

He sent a huge wink to his wife, a slim, elegant woman, who chuckled and playfully hit him on the shoulder, to which Sir Boris pretended to be wounded before throwing back his head and laughing hugely. Everything the old knight did was huge, he was a large man with a round, red face and large belly and a laugh that could shake walls. 

“It’s no trouble,” Jaskier said. “I’m sure preparing for winter is a year round project here.”

“Oh of course,” Lady Olenka said. “But once it’s here we can all relax, and spend time with family.” She leaned forward as if imparting a delightful secret and said in a stage-whisper, “Boris has been our town’s Father Winter for the last four years.”

Jaskier made impressed ‘ooh’ noises and Geralt tried to at least look like he understood that. 

Boris laughed again. “It’s this lot,” he said, slapping his round stomach. “Better than some old geezer with a pillow down his shirt, eh?”

Geralt hummed in agreement. 

“And you must make a lovely Mother Winter, Lady Olenka,” Jaskier said politely.

She smiled, lines crinkling around her eyes as if drawing a road map. “It’s not as important as Father Winter, of course, but I rather pride myself that I plan a very good Midwinter festival.” Geralt got the sense that behind the modesty she was quite proud, and, he suspected, with good reason.

“But, you must tell me,” she said, modestly changing the subject. “Is there to be a missus Pankratz, now that you’ve come to see Lady Iliana?”

“I am a man in love,” Jaskier said. “And I am hopeful that an engagement will come soon, yes.”

“Oh dearie that’s just lovely,” Lady Olenka said, patting Jaskier’s cheek. “And you’re such a nice boy too, little young looking to be betrothed to our Lady Iliana anyway, although she’s a very dear woman.”

“We just love her,” Sir Boris said. “She’s a great mayor, not keen on marriage, but nobody minds, she just seems to have adopted the whole town as family.”

Lady Olenka patted her husband’s broad shoulder. “It was smart of you not to bring your love here, though. There’s some nobles here from Lyria, that’s who she’s been trading with, and I think they’d like any excuse to disparage here.” She lowered her voice again. “You know how those lot are about having women in charge.”

“I can’t relate,” Sir Boris laughed. “Lenka’s the ruler in our house.” That got a laugh because it had to, and because Sir Boris’s laugh was surprisingly infectious. 

“Good on you bringing a bodyguard too,” he said once the laughter had abated. He slapped Geralt companionably on the back, which was like being hit by a friendly battering ram. “Witcher too, don’t get many up here, but I bet you’re the safest man in a hundred miles.”

“Oh, dear, don’t you know?” Lady Olenka said. “Lord Julian here is a bard as well, he goes by Jaskier and sings all about witchers.”

“Really?” Sir Boris said, looking at Jaskier. “Blimey, imagine that. Good on you, finding a niche in the market.”

Geralt’s ears were beginning to ache. Friendly though Sir Boris might be, he didn’t seem to have a volume level below ‘deafening’. He was tired and overwrought and he just wanted to cuddle up with Jaskier in a bed. It wasn’t even suppertime, though.

They sat through another hour of hearing about Boris and Olenka’s eighteen grandchildren. 

“And three great-grandchildren,” Boris added proudly.

Geralt was thankful Jaskier could carry the conversation. He longed for a kiss, though. Now that he knew he couldn’t have one, his lips fairly ached for one.

Supper was a large affair, with one of Boris and Olenka’s children’s family over for dinner as well. Geralt was seated across from Jaskier between two small children who, apparently, needed to be separated at dinertimes to prevent bickering. They contented themselves instead by asking Geralt every question they could think of, often making him wrack his brain for child appropriate answers.

It wasn’t just witchering questions, either. He answered such questions as “Why is the sky blue?” (Because it’s Melitele’s favorite color). Immediately before answering “How big are dragon scales?” (The small ones are like pebbles and the big ones are like shields.)

Jaskier smiled at him over his bowl of stew, eyes sparkling. Geralt loved children, and Jaskier loved seeing them adore Geralt.

“So, Lord Julian,” Boris and Olenka’s daughter began. “Your lady love, tell us about her?” She smiled Lady Olenka’s warm smile and Jaskier did a good show of seeming bashful. 

“My love is unlike any other,” he began. “And if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’m a poet, and so must wax poetic.”

“Wouldn’t settle for anything less, lad!” Boris bellowed cheefully.

“My darling has fair hair, like moonlight,” Jaskier said, and the table oohed appreciatively. Geralt felt his ears get hot.

“And eyes like summer,” the bard continued. “I could get lost in them. No eyes could compare.” Geralt kicked him under the table, but Olenka was sighing sympathetically.

“But of course,” Jaskier said slyly, my heart is best held by my love’s lips.”

Boris chuckled knowingly. “I’ll bet it is, my boy,” he said, winking. Olenka slapped his arm, but she was smiling. Geralt felt hot.

“I’m afraid, however that my lover is quite modest, and won’t appreciate me extolling too many virtues,” Jaskier finished. “So I must finish with, I love them very much, and it is for them alone that my heart beats.”

Therewith leaving every person at the table (those above the age of twelve, at least) with misty eyes, Jaskier helped Lady Olenka clean up supper. Geralt helped put the dishes away.

After dinner they were led back to the mayor’s house. “I’m afraid the negotiations don’t seem to be finished,” Lady Olenka said. “I had hoped they would be quick, but it seems not. If the issue wasn’t resolved today, I wouldn’t bet on them being resolved too early tomorrow, either. You two don’t have pressing business elsewhere?”

“No, my lady,” Jaskier said, although if they lingered too long they wouldn’t make it to Lettenhove for the winter, as it was, it would be close.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to see you soon,” the lady said. “Here’s your room, and Master Witcher, your room is just at the far end of the hall.”

She said goodnight and Geralt hoped she couldn’t see the slump of his shoulders.

Separate rooms.

Jaskier smiled ruefully at him and they parted for the night. Geralt’s bed was large and comfortable, with clean linens and feather pillows, but he barely got a wink of sleep.

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

The next morning found Jaskier and Geralt breakfasting in the tavern, owned, apparently, by another of Boris and Olenka’s grown children.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaskier whispered over a plate of sausage and eggs.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink,” Jaskier said. “Want my last piece of bacon? I’m stuffed.”

Geralt took it gratefully, slipping Jaskier his fried slice as a trade. No matter how Jaskier protested that he was stuffed, he always had room for a fried slice.”

“Terrible woman,” said a nasal voice at the next table. “Just impossible to do business with.”

“I agree, overemotional, you know how they get,” agreed another voice. Jaskier made eye contact with Geralt. The accent was Lyrian.

“Not even married,” said the first speaker. “What a disgrace. If my daughter got to her age without children I’d just die of shame.”

Geralt pitied his daughter.

“Oh of course,” said the second man. “Attractive, though, for an old maid.”

The first man snickered cruelly. “Thinking a little wooing might soften her up?”

“It always does, women like that, they’re just angry because they haven’t found a man.”

“Won’t your wife mind?”

“Are you going to tell her?” Both men laughed unpleasantly.

A serving girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, came around the tables, presumably one of Sir Boris’ many granddaughters. She took their plates onto a tray and smiled when Jaskier slipped a few coins onto the tray as a tip.

At the next table  one of the Lyrian’s snapped their fingers impatiently. The girl rolled her eyes. Geralt was pleased to see that, although she served him professionally, as she walked away she ‘accidentally’ tread on his foot.

“What pathetic pieces of shit, the pair of them,” Jaskier said as they stepped out into the sunlight. 

“Hmmm,” Geralt agreed. Then he looked around quickly and pulled Jaskier into an alleyway, urging the bard deeper into the shadows. 

“What? Geralt di-”

Geralt smushed his lips gracelessly to Jaskier’s, crowding him up against the wall. Jaskier’s hair between his fingers was so familiar and comforting, as was the little sigh Jaskier let out.

They pulled apart and Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. “That’ll tide me over for a while,” he whispered. Jaskier smiled.

“Are you master Julian?”

The pair sprang apart, looking in alarm at the red headed boy at the far end of the alley. 

“Yes...?” Jaskier said.

“Only, Pa said to come find you, and he said you’d be with a big man dressed all in black.”

“And you found us here?” Jaskier asked.

“Didn’t know you’d be here, did I?” Said the boy, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s the shortcut through to the tavern, but then, I figured he’s the only big man in black around.”

Geralt inclined his head, feeling his ears go hot.

“Lady Iliana has time to see you now,” the boy continued, oblivious to the awkwardness. 

“By all means...lead the way,” said Jaskier.

They were led out of the alley and back to the mayor’s house by the messenger boy.

“Out of curiosity,” Jaskier asked. “Is your grandad Sir Boris?” 

“Yeah, that’s him,” said the lad. “He made me a toy sword for my tenth birthday too.” He pointed proudly to the wooden sword tied at his hip with some string.

“It makes you look a proper hero,” Jaskier said. Then he pulled out his coin purse. “A copper for bringing us the message and...another to not tell anyone what you saw.”

The boy looked between the two of them shrewdly.

“Not even my best friend? I tell Mikhail everything.”

“Not until Geralt and I have left.”

“Three coppers total,” the boy said promptly. Jaskier handed them over good naturedly and the boy flashed a gap toothed grin before taking off.

Geralt and Jaskier shrugged at each other, before finding their way to the main room of the mayor’s house. A broad shouldered woman of about fifty poked her head out of a door.

“Julian?”

Geralt and Jaskier went inside.

“You look well,” Iliana said, sitting behind a large desk and gesturing to a couple chairs. “You havent’ aged a day.”

“And you look as lovely as I remember,” Jaskier said.

“Flirt. Come to ask me for heirs?”

Jaskier shuddered. “No, my lady. I remember your threat well. I think you know why I’m here.”

The two Lyrians barged through the door. 

“Did I ask you to enter?” Iliana said, coldly. Geralt felt an unusual curl of fear set up in his stomach, she was a distinctly fearsome woman.

“Well,” said the first Lyrian.

“You were so beautiful, I couldn’t wait on seeing you again,” said the second, slimily.

“Oh I say!,” Iliana said, standing. She placed her hand over her chest in a delicately offended way, which was ill suited to her. “You sir are too bold, and in front of my betrothed too!”

The Lyrians looked, panicked, at the people sat in the chairs. As Geralt was seated in the chair nearest the door, and therefore nearest them, they came to the wrong conclusion. The blood drained from both their faces.

“What an insult!” Iliana continued. “You should be ashamed! What a lack of diplomacy!” 

Beside Geralt, Jaskier snickered. She was laying it on a little thick. 

“Why,” she continued. “I ought to write to your king! I’ve never been so insulted. And I’m sure my beloved will want to sort out this insult too.” She fluttered her lashes at Geralt. 

Geralt nearly jumped out of his seat, but thankfully his brain caught up. He stood, growling a little theatrically and placed one hand on the hilt of his steel sword.

“Our apologies my lady,” the first man said hurriedly.

“Our mistake, we’ll just--” they dissappeared out the door.

“What a fearsome couple,” Geralt heard whispered as the door swung shut.

Iliana sighed satisfactedly and kicked her feet up on her desk. “It seems I should thank you,” she said. “That is going to make negotiations much easier.”

“I’m sure you always get good deals,” Jaskier said.

“Yes. I get the deals I want.”

“You know why I’m here,” Jaskier said.

“Yes.”

“Do you agree?”

“To disolve the betrothal? Of course. Never found a lover for myself so I never bothered but, well, I just don’t do romance.”

“Some people don’t,” Geralt said, thinking of Eskel.”

“Indeed,” Iliana said, smiling warmly at him. “Not all of us have a soulmate to sing us songs.” She laughed at their surprised faces. 

“Oh you fooled them, and you may have fooled Boris and Olenka, but I’ve heard your songs, Julian. It’s written right into everything you do.”

She began rummaging in one of the drawers in the desk. “I don’t mind, of course. So few people know we’re actually betrothed...there it is.” She pulled out an old piece of paper. “I’ll just rip it up if that’s fine by you. You’ll have to do the same to yours of course.”

“We’re going to Lettenhove this winter,” Jaskier said. “I’ll do it as soon as I find it.”

Iliana smiled again. “Father always did say that your dad had a horrible filing system.”

“He filed all his papers on the floor, yes, although I imagine my sister is neater.”

Iliana tore the paper in half without ceremony and placed the contract in the waste paper bin. “Lettenhove is very far away, Julian, will you get there in time?”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt. 

“I don’t know,” Geralt said.

“No matter,” said Iliana. She began writing something on a new sheet of paper. “Our logging teams float lumber all down the Dyfne and Pontar rivers. Show this to the dockmaster at the tip of the Dyfne and our riverboat captains can get you to Novigrad.” 

She pulled out another sheet of paper. “Once you’re in Novigrad, show this to the harbormaster and he’ll get you to Lettenhove.” She looked at their shocked faces and smiled. “Our lumber is the best, and it’s used in everything, including ships. I’m willing to cash in a favor in order to get rid of a useless betrothal.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Jaskier said bowing deeply. “I’ll have my Aunt Szarlotta send a message once our betrothal is fully extant.”

Iliana stood and shook his hand. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Our fathers were penpals,” Jaskier said. “Perhaps we should keep up the tradition?” 

The mayor inclined her head. “I’d like that. I may be too busy to write often.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I can only pick up messages when I pass through Oxenfurt, but I like to make friends with powerful people.” 

The two of them shared a smile.

“Not to rush you out my door,” Iliana said. “But I do have a lot to do, winter comes early up here, and I know it does as well in Lettenhove. even with my help, you two should leave soon.”

Geralt and Jaskier left that afternoon, just after a hearty meal at the tavern.

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

Across the continent and some weeks later, Jaskier and Geralt stepped onto the docks in Novigrad.

“I don’t think Roach liked the river boats,” Jaskier said as Geralt led her off. Roach whinnied and shook her mane emphatically.

“Sorry, girl,” Geralt said. “You’ll have another long boat journey, and this time I doubt we’ll stop so you can run about on land.”

“Nah,” Jaskier said, as they walked toward a tavern for supper. “Boats from Novigrad to Lettenhove stop around the coast on the way, she’ll get plenty of exercise. It’s something to do with the currents.”

He petted Roach’s muzzle softly as they stabled her at the inn beside the tavern and Geralt felt his heart go out to his bard. Jaskier cared so much for Roach. Geralt thought again of the gold band in his pack.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

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

Slightly more than a month later, after a slow, coastal boat journey, and then another between Inis Porhoest and Lettenhove, Geralt, Jaskier, and their faithful horse, stepped off the final boat.

“Welcome home, Master Julian,” said a fisherman on the dock.

“Does everyone here know you?” Geralt asked.

“Pretty much, there’s only about three hundred people here.”

News spread fast among three hundred people and Jaskier and Geralt were greeted enthusiastically at the door to the very small castle. A blonde woman who could only be Ksenia, Jaskier’s sister, flung her arms around him, and withing a moment Geralt was being gathered into the hug by a slightly older looking couple.

“Julek,” said the blonde man, pulling back. “My boy, you’re home, and you brought this stunning man, wow, what a looker.” 

“Papa, don’t be embarrassing,” Jaskier said. Geralt flushed clear to the roots of his hair. Apparently when Jaskier said he had his father’s personality he meant all of his father’s personality.

They had dinner as a family, including Jaskier’s niece and nephew, Cecylia and Prot. They had questions for Geralt, and he was grateful for the practice he’d had in Gwendeith. It was an enjoyable meal over all, and afterward Jaskier was distracted by his Aunt Szarlotta while Geralt slipped away to ask Mr. Pankratz a very important question.

The two of them returned to the main hall to see Jaskier pretending to be a dragon, while Cecylia and Prot bravely fought him with butterknives, but he straightened up when he saw the look on Geralt’s face.

Geralt took his hand and Jaskier squeezed it three times, it was their code, asking if Geralt needed to go somewhere that wasn’t so hard on his senses. Geralt smiled and shook his head, swallowing nervously around the lump in his throat.

He got down on one knee and pulled out the gold band. “I’m...I’m not good with words.” Geralt swallowed again, wishing he could borrow Jaskier’s eloquence for five minutes or so. “Marry me?”

The words were barely out from his mouth before Jaskier was tackling him to the ground, pressing kisses all over his face.

“Oh Geralt!” he said. “Wait--”

Jaskier looked up at his mother, who smiled and was handed a paper by his Aunt Szarlotta. Mrs. Pankratz ripped the betrothal contract in half.

“Yes,” Jaskier said, laughing. “I will marry you!”

Then they kissed on the chilly stone floor.

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

Dear Lady Iliana, Mayor of Gwendeith

The former contract has been voided. 

Szarlotta of Lettenhove

P.S. Geralt and Jaskier are engaged and send their love.

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

Holy Cow. 5603 words. I...I don’t even know what to say. I hope you like it.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

When We Went From Friends to This - a. beauvillier

One day late, but here it is! I’ve been studying for the LSAT, but finally took it today, so I’ll have some more time to be writing more regularly now. Title is from Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings. I loved getting to write this, so please please let me know what you think, my inbox is always open! Reading the tags is one of my favorite things to do, and reblogs help me know people are liking my work.

word count: 7.7k+

September 18 (sat)

Astride Leclair was the kind of person you always wanted on your side. She’d drop anything for a friend, always be the first to reach out, and would never give up on something — or someone — without a fight. She was also incredibly stubborn. Astride had also always had a penchant for adventure, which is how she found herself in a new job 600 miles and one international border from her hometown. And she hated asking for help, it really didn’t matter the circumstance. Which is how she found herself alone, trying to heft an armchair up the stairs of her new apartment building after being very rudely informed by the width of the elevator door that it wasn’t going to fit. 

The lump sum her firm gave her for relocation was enough to cover a fair amount of the furniture for her new place and she tried to bring as much as she could on the drive down, but it wasn’t like she was about to rent a U-Haul and there was only so much a Honda Civic could hold. And Astride was still her father’s daughter, still would rather step on a rusty nail than pay Ikea for assembly, so by God she was going to do it herself. And “doing it herself” apparently meant dragging an 80 pound box up three flights of stairs in 90º heat in September, when New York City seemed to have not quite yet gotten the memo that the rest of the Northern Hemisphere was now in fall. 

Astride finally managed to get the chair in the door, propping the door open with one of her moving boxes, unceremoniously pulling the box through the entryway as she scooted backwards into the living room. The 600 square foot expanse of her apartment was covered in boxes, more boxes, and for good measure, extra boxes. There were moving boxes, furniture boxes, shoeboxes filled with anything except for actual shoes. There was her guitar leaning against the microwave, three suitcases worth of clothes in the barely-assembled bedroom, and her dog in a crate in the corner, who had started to whine. 

“I know, baby, I’ll get you out soon,” Astride said, shooting a sympathetic glance towards the beagle mix. She had adopted Poutine a little over a year ago, soon after starting her first job out of university. It was never a question whether or not she would make the trip with Astride, and thankfully it was much easier than she anticipated to find a dog-friendly apartment in Brooklyn. It wasn’t too long a walk to Prospect Park, a little under a mile, and she was looking forward to getting out with Poutine later in the day. If, that was, she actually finished unpacking enough boxes to function like a normal human being. She had picked up her mattress-in-a-box earlier in the day, but it was still sitting in the corner of her bedroom and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to a night on the hardwood floor. 

---

Three hours later, Astride had finally gotten all of the boxes out of her car and began to make decent headway on assembling the chair, finally having let Poutine out of her crate. The beagle trotted around the apartment, sniffing the baseboards, boxes, and single bag of groceries Astride had picked up from Whole Foods earlier in the day. The rest of her Ikea order was coming the next day, the actual bedframe and couch along with a couple of other larger furniture pieces that she had had to leave in Montréal. Whatever she couldn’t order online she’d find at a thrift store. 

Astride looked tiredly over at the kitchen. She really wasn’t in the mood to cook, and was in even less of a mood to dig through all the boxes until she finally found her set of pots and pans. She really should have taken her mom’s advice and labeled everything, but Astride was stubborn as a mule, and once she was stuck in her ways, there was precious little anyone could do to convince her otherwise. Pulling out her phone, she navigated to her Uber Eats, feeling a tiny pang in her heart as she switched her location to New York. Not the language, though. Astride was so hungry that she literally clicked on whatever place could get there the fastest, which ended up being a Chinese place a mile or so away. After placing her order — she got an extra box of chow mein so she wouldn’t have to deal with breakfast the next day — she settled back into the hair, the only fully-assembled piece of furniture in the whole apartment. Her finger hovered over her Instagram for a moment before she clicked on it, liking a few photos before going to post one of her own. It was a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge as she crossed it that morning, Poutine’s head lolling out the front window. One tap and one caption later, it was posted. 

---

Anthony flopped onto his bed, his duffel landing with a satisfying thump on the floor beside him. Training camp had just ended, and while he’d certainly been keeping up on his workouts over the summer, the hours upon hours of skating had nevertheless made him more than a little sore. He grabbed his phone, opening up Instagram and scrolling through the new posts, only half paying attention. Astride’s new photo caught his eye.

Sometimes, needing a change means a new haircut. Sometimes, it means a new country. Very excited to start this next chapter in my life. Salut, New York! Anthony quickly clicked onto her profile page and read her bio. International economics analyst. Eating my way through the world one pancake at a time. BCom McGill. MTL-NYC. He read the last line over and over again. MTL-NYC. He swiped back to the photo; she had tagged herself in Brooklyn. Brooklyn. She was less than an hour away, not even thirty if the traffic wasn’t bad. But she hadn’t told him, she hadn’t said anything. Anthony felt a pang in his heart. Astride knew who he played for — obviously — and she knew that of course he’d want to see her any time they were even remotely in the same place. She knew that. Right? 

He spent the next twenty minutes typing out a message to her. Then deleting it. Then retyping it. Then continuing the type-delete-retype cycle until his head was spinning. This was his best friend. Why was he so nervous to talk to her? Because she was his best friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he really wasn’t sure where they stood. He hadn’t been sure for a long time. Hey Asty! He internally cringed at himself at the use of her old nickname. I saw you moved to New York, that’s amazing! I’m over on Long Island, so I’d love to catch up with you for coffee or something when you get a chance. It’s been too long :) 

It might have been a little petty — scratch that, it definitely was petty — but Astride didn’t respond to his text that night. She didn’t have read receipts on, thank God, but it sat in her messages, without response, like something she was too scared to confront. And she didn’t even know why. Okay, fine, she knew exactly why. She had moved and suddenly they were in the same city for the first time since they were kids and he was, had been, her best friend, but why now of all times? It’s not like he was never in Montréal during the year, or like they couldn’t have committed to a weekly FaceTime or something, or at least texted more than once a month. He could have done something. And that something, that lack of a something, was what kept her from responding until the next morning, tapping out a text as she halfheartedly made her way through a bowl of oatmeal. Hi, Tito, just saw your text! Lie. I did, an opportunity for a transfer came up and I decided to take it. I figured you were pretty close by, so it would be great to catch up. I don’t start at the office for a week, if you’re free any time between now and then. That much was true. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the Islanders played on, well, Long Island, and as much as she wanted to still hold a grudge against him, her heart ached at the prospect of finally being able to see him again. 

Anthony responded almost instantly, Astride having just closed the door to the dishwasher — a luxury in New York, she was told — before seeing her phone light up with the telltale bubble. I’d love to, we just finished up training camp so I’m more or less free aside from practices. A second later. Is brunch still your favorite meal?

Astride laughed. It didn’t surprise her that he remembered, but it was still touching to see him say something about it. It is.

How about Tuesday? I’ll send you the directions. It’s this little café in Flatbush, I think you’ll love it. 

I’m counting on it. 

September 26 (sun)

Brunch had turned into dinner, which had turned into going to a Broadway show — Anthony had insisted the moment she told him she’d never been — which had turned into him coming over for Saturday night movies, an old habit of the pair’s from their days back in Québec. Which had turned into two movies and two bottles of wine, which had turned into Tito sleeping over on the couch instead of driving the thirty-odd minutes back to his apartment. Poutine sniffed him curiously, nudging one hand with her head. Astride stifled a giggle, opening the door to the balcony. “He’s very sleepy, Poutine. It’s not good manners to wake up your guests.”

“Even when they fall asleep on your couch and steal all your blankets?” Anthony said sleepily from behind. 

Astride wheeled around, greeted by a half-awake Anthony Beauvillier, who was indeed bundled in all of the blankets she owned that weren’t actively on her bed. “Tito! Oh my God, you scared me. How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, about as well as can be expected.” He tapped his phone, cursing when he realized it was dead. “Do you know what time it is?”

She glanced down at her watch. “8:52, why?”

Anthony jumped up, throwing his shirt back on and grabbing his still-dead phone. “I’m supposed to meet Mat for breakfast at 9:30, and the place is,” he paused for a moment, running through the grid system in his head, “probably half an hour away? I’m never the late one, can’t break that streak now.” 

“Gotcha.”

He grabbed his keys, looking back at her. “Why don’t you come? You’re already dressed, and you remember Mat, right?”

She wiggled her hand. “Kind of?” She crossed the room, letting Poutine back in. “You only want me for my charged phone and navigation system.”

“You got me,” he said, laughing. 

---

“You named your dog Poutine?” Mat snickered, taking a bite of his eggs. 

“Would you rather I named him Tim Horton?” Astride deadpanned. “He’s a good Canadian boy with a good Canadian mom. He needed a good Canadian name.” 

Mat raised his coffee mug, tilting it over towards her. “Touché.”

Anthony waved his hand in front of Mat’s face, trying to catch his attention from where he was utterly preoccupied with destroying his sourdough toast. “Hey, Mat.”

“Mmm?” He glanced up. 

“Did you know that Astride lives right by Barclays? Like, right by Barclays?” 

His eyebrows rose. “No way?” Astride nodded. “That’s a great area, would have been awesome if you were here a couple of years ago. Short walk to the games.”

“That’s what I told her yesterday,” Tito responded. 

---

“You’re kidding,” Anthony said, looking up at her building, then across the street to Barclays, then back to Astride, one hand tangling through his hair. “We used to play right across from here.” 

Astride laughed. “I thought about that,” she said. “You know I still watched your games, right? Even after we fell out of touch?” Anthony shook his head. “You were still someone I cared about, are still someone I care about, even when we only talked a few times a year.” 

Beau stood there, unable to formulate a complete sentence. As far as he knew, the last Islanders game she watched had been the 2016 opener, his NHL debut and her first year at McGill. Why did he assume that? Why did he assume the worst? You can care about people even when they’re not in your life anymore. And sometimes, if you get really, really lucky, they come back. 

October 9 (sat) 

“Ebs is having a barbeque thing over at his house this weekend, just stuff to celebrate the beginning of the season if you wanted to come. No pressure if you’ve got plans already, though,” Anthony said over the FaceTime. 

Astride nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds great, I’d love to come! Just let me know when to show up and what to bring, and I’ll be there.”

 It was almost a fifty-minute drive for Astride from her apartment in Prospect Heights to the house in Garden City, but there wasn’t too much traffic and besides, she had always liked driving. So she set off in her Civic, plugged her music in, and headed down 495. Anthony met her outside of the house, greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek as he cocked his head towards the backyard. “Party’s this way. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” 

Astride dutifully followed, trying not to let her nerves take hold of her. Everyone might have already been Beau’s friends, but she didn’t know them, or the dynamic of everyone’s relationships, or really, what to expect at all. 

He noticed her apprehension, stopping her with a feather-light touch on her arm just before walking through the back gate. “Hey, Asty. What is it?” 

She let out a little huff, still upset that he could read her like a book even after all this time. “I’m just worried that I’ll feel like I’m intruding on everything, like everyone already has their friends and a group and everything, and here comes some random Québécoise who’s a friend of Tito’s—” 

He laughed, turning her around to face him. “Astride, they’re going to love you. As long as you’re the hilarious, witty, caring person I know you are, they’re going to love you as much as I do, and you’re going to fit in just fine. Do you trust me?” 

She gave a tiny nod. “Yeah.” 

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “Good, now come back, everyone’s waiting.” 

They walked through the gate, greeted by a crowd of smiling faces as Anthony brought her around to everyone to make their rounds. There was Anders, he was the captain, and his wife. There was Jordan and Lauren, and she already knew Mat, and JGP — who was excited to have another person to speak French to — and a dozen or so others, along with their respective partners and children. Anthony had gone over to talk to Mat and some of the other players, while Astride had wandered over to the drinks table. Some of the other women were chatting nearby; one of them caught Astride’s eye and waved her over to join them. 

“Beau didn’t tell us he was bringing anyone!” one of the women said, pulling her over to the group with a bright smile and handing her a glass of sangria. 

“Mhm,” she replied, taking a sip of the drink. “I’m new to the city, obviously, so I think he wanted me to have some people I know outside of just work.” 

They all nodded. “How long have you two been together, though?” another asked. “I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone, did you?” She looked around at the others, who shook their heads as Astride’s eyes bulged. 

“Together? No, no, we’re not together. We’ve been best friends for ages, but,” she shook her head. 

“Could have fooled me,” Lauren said with the smallest of winks. 

Astride suddenly became very interested in the floating berries in her sangria. She looked over at Anthony, who was throwing his head back, laughing at something one of the rookies had said, and smiled. But Lauren’s words kept lingering in the back of her mind. Could have fooled me. Okay, it wasn’t like it was the first time they had been mistaken for a couple; whenever she’d make the trip up to Shawingan to visit him when he was in the QMJHL, more than once she’d have to explain to his teammates that no, she wasn’t Beau’s girlfriend, they were just best friends who had known each other forever. Just best friends. 

Astride had always equated her lingering feelings for Anthony to the nostalgia of a childhood crush, the safety and security that came with remembering something from a time that seemed so simple and so easy. But childhood crushes didn’t last for ten years. And that wasn’t something she hadn’t wanted to come to terms with, something she’d been putting off for years if she was being honest with herself. 

“You didn’t tell me Astride was coming,” Mat commented, seeing her mid-laugh in conversation with the other girls. 

Anthony nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t have any plans for the weekend and I thought it would be nice to introduce her to everyone. I remember how shitty it felt to be in a new city away from your family, don’t want her to be lonely. Plus, I genuinely think she’ll fit in great with everyone.” 

Mat hummed his agreement. “She’s changed since Switzerland, don’t you think?” he asked appreciatively, referring to over five years ago, the last time he had seen her in person.

“Don’t even think about it,” Beau mumbled to Mat, seeing his eyebrows go so far up they were hidden in his hairline. 

“I see a hot girl, I appreciate a hot girl,” Mat shrugged. “But don’t worry, I won’t try anything. I know she’s off-limits.” 

The rest of the afternoon passed quicker than she would have thought, and after a few hours and more good conversations, it was time for Astride to leave. “Have a safe drive back,” Anthony said, giving her a hug. 

“I will,” she responded. 

He opened the driver’s side door for her. “I’m really glad you came, you know. Everyone liked you, you fit in great.” 

“It wasn’t all me,” she said, sliding into the seat, turning her head to Anthony to continue the conversation. “Everyone really did seem to go out of their way to make me feel included, I think they understood the feeling of moving to a whole new place without a big support system and wanted to do what they could to help mitigate that for me.” Astride consciously left out Lauren’s little comment, four words that had been bouncing around in her head for hours since they had been said. He didn’t need to know. She didn’t need him to know, it could confuse him and complicate things when they were just getting back into the rhythm of friendship, of being each other’s person. 

Anthony tapped his fingers on the car door. “I’m glad.” 

“Me too.”

Beau went to sleep that night, Mat’s words bouncing around in his head. “I know she’s off-limits.” It’s not like Cass was his sister or something, someone who would inherently be barred from his best friend’s dating pool. But Mat seemed to know right away, without having ever been told, that she wasn’t someone he could ever even consider pursuing. Why? And what did Mat seem to know that he didn’t?

November 12 (fri)

It was early November, and Anthony and Astride had just settled down at a table in Prospect Park, coffee cups warming their hands through the late fall chill. “How do you feel about last night?” Astride asked teasingly. He had a three point game, two goals and an assist in a 4-1 win over the Canes, so there really wasn’t any question that he was still riding on the high. 

Beau rolled his eyes. “Good, obviously. It would have been nice to get a hat trick, but I know that’s asking for a lot and I didn’t want to tempt fate too much. They made a really good push late in the second.”

“But you won,” she said, poking his shoulder with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her mocha. 

“But we won,” he agreed. He suddenly got quiet, the kind of quiet where, if you know the person well enough, you can tell that something’s up. That they’re thinking of something. And Astride was right. “Do you ever think about Switzerland?” he asked. 

Astride looked at him from the side, knowing right away that he wasn’t asking about the country. “All the time,” she admitted. 

---

It was the spring of 2015, and they were in Lucerne. By they, Astride meant her, Tito, and the rest of the 2015 Canadian U18 World Cup team. And by in Lucerne, she meant crowded into someone’s hotel room with no adult supervision. Anthony wasn’t sure where any of the coaching staff had gone, but if he was being honest, he was riding on way too big of a high to even care. They had clinched the bronze medal earlier that day, celebrating with the family and friends who had made the trip out, gotten dinner, and then packed into the first team room they came to. Well, technically, Astride, Tito, and Mat had made a stop at the grocery store before meeting everyone else back in the room. The drinking age in Switzerland was 16 for everything but spirits, and everyone was planning on taking full advantage of that. The cashier gave them a look as she took her and Anthony’s French licenses and Mat’s English one, but the charge went through just fine, and fifteen minutes later they were walking back through the doorway with three cases of beer and a few bottles of sparkling wine for good measure. Astride had never been so grateful to have her own checking account. 

“You ever drink before?” Mat asked her as they opened the cases. 

Astride shrugged. “Not really. A glass of wine every now and again back home with my parents, but nothing too crazy.” 

He held out a bottle for her, fishing around in his pocket for the bottle opener they had picked up at the store. “Have fun.” 

And have fun Astride did. She had finished off two of the beers, and one of the younger teammates — she didn’t remember who — had popped open the wine. In his slightly inebriated state, it took longer than it should have to twist off the muselet, which then led to foam all over the floor and fifteen sixteen and seventeen-year-olds running to the bathroom to grab towels to try and mop it up with. And then running back to the bathroom to get the water glasses because they needed something to drink it out of, right? And then to everyone else’s rooms because they quickly realized that two cups definitely wasn’t enough to go around, and then everyone was back in the room, on the beds and around the beds, finally letting themselves celebrate. Astride was just finishing her glass when Mat spoke. “Anyone up for never have I ever?” Nobody said otherwise, so two minutes later, they were all arranged in what could very generously be called a circle, fresh drinks in hand. After a solid five minutes of repeating the rules — there was always at least one person who seemed to genuinely struggle with the idea that you drank if you had done the thing, not if you hadn’t — they were slowly but surely making their way around the circle. 

Questions ranged from the mundane — “Never have I ever gotten detention” — to the raunchy — “Never have I ever had my parents walk in on me” — neither of which Astride or Tito drank to. 

By the time it was Mat’s turn, he had had plenty of time to think, looking around the group with a conspiratorial grin. “What is it?” Tito asked skeptically. 

He shrugged. “Never have I ever...kissed anyone in the circle.” As expected, nobody drank, but apparently that wasn’t expected, not for Mat, at least. He looked between Anthony and Astride incredulously. “Seriously? You two have never kissed?”

Anthony shook his head. “Nope.”

“How? You’ve been friends for, like, a million years, not even when you were little or anything?” he asked. 

“Never,” Astride said. “Kind of hard to kiss your best friend when you haven’t kissed anyone before.” She barely even realized that everyone was still listening in. 

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” Anthony asked, surprised. 

Astride looked down at her hands, sipping her beer. “Nope.” She gave him a brief smile. “I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but no. Just hasn’t happened yet.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was feelings buried so deeply in Anthony’s mind that he didn’t think would ever see the light of day, let alone have to be confronted, that made him say what he did next. “I could—if you wanted—you don’t have to, but—” he stammered.

Astride laughed, looking at him curiously. “What is it, Tito? You’re not normally one to stumble over your words like that.”

He picked at his fingernails, an old nervous tick from his childhood that his mother was never quite able to get him to break, keenly aware that the whole room had decided to listen into their conversation. “I was just trying to say...I could do it, if you want. Kiss you, I mean. If you just wanted to get it over with, or whatever. I just figured. You know me, you trust me, you’re comfortable with me. Better that than some idiot at school who doesn’t care about you.”

Her cheeks burned as she looked over at him, but even though it took her nearly a minute to respond, she had her answer after five seconds. “Why not?” Astride flashed him the purest, gentlest smile, the kind that let him know just how much she cared about him and how deeply she trusted him. And the look on her face meant the world to him. 

Anthony leaned in, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, his fingertips just barely touching her cheek as their foreheads leant together. “You sure about this?” He needed her to be sure. 

She nodded. “I’ve had a couple of drinks, and I never imagined my first kiss would be in front of an audience,” she paused to giggle at the rest of the team, who were giving the scene their full attention in a way that somehow wasn’t uncomfortable at all, just wholesome and supportive, “but yeah. I’m sure.”

That was all the permission Anthony needed to lean forward, pressing his lips against hers, in a kiss that was soft and sweet and somehow everything Astride needed all in one. He pulled back after a moment, a goofy smile on his face. “How was it?”

Astride couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Good, it was really good, Tito. Thank you for that.”

“What are friends for?”

---

“Friends are for kissing each other, apparently,” Astride giggled, leaning into Anthony on his couch. 

He laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over her arm. “Did you ever think something was going to happen between us?” Anthony asked curiously. 

Astride shrugged. “At some point, yeah. I think it was kind of hard not to, with our parents and literally everyone we spent time with saying we were destined to fall in love.” She looked down at her hands, trying not to give away the fact that at one point, she had believed them. 

November 30 (tues)

“Do you want to come over Friday?” Anthony asked, sprawled out across her couch on one of his rare nights off. He had made the drive over to Astride’s apartment, cooking salmon and roasting vegetables while she took the much more daunting task of picking what to watch on Netflix. She settled on Back to the Future. “I can order in Thai, I know we’re trying to work our way through the Mission Impossibles.” 

Astride grimaced. “I actually...kind of have a date Friday night,” she admitted. 

Anthony made a hum of surprise. “You do?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so shocked, Tito. There are men in this city of nine million who want to take me out.” 

He sputtered. “It’s not that that shocks me, Asty. You’d have men lining up around the block for you if you’d give any of them a second glance. It’s just that. You never seem to bother actually going after any of them. What made this one different?” 

“I mean, honestly hour?” Astride said, shrugging. 

“Honestly hour.” 

“I haven’t been on a date since I left Montréal, you know that. It had been a few months there too. And I’ve loved hanging out with you more, getting to know Mat and the team and everyone’s partners, but...I needed something different, too. Something that felt like a part of my life that wasn’t directly connected to the team. Which, don’t get me wrong,” she added hastily, “I love them, and it’s been so nice to be a part of that group, I just…” Astride trailed off. 

“You can’t let that be the only part of your life. I get it,” Anthony added helpfully.  

“Yeah,” Astride agreed. “So enter Cole. He works in a different division of the IE department, I’m obviously Europe and he’s Asia, mostly does work with Taiwan and Singapore. Um,” she said, her eyes turning towards the ceiling, “he seems really nice, did international business at UPenn, which is a great program. Speaks fluent Mandarin, uh, I think he mentioned he’s got a few fish at home.” 

Anthony snorted. “What’s wrong with fish?” Astride asked defensively. 

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong with fish,” he said. “Just seems like an odd choice. Maybe his building doesn’t allow pets or something.” 

“Maybe,” Astride responded. “I wouldn’t know, he lives in Manhattan, over in Tribeca. Bikes to work.” 

Tito laughed again. “I don’t trust people who bike to work in New York City, Asty. They have zero regard for their own lives or safety.” 

She giggled. “That might be true. But I’m looking forward to it, the date, I mean. I really am. It’s been a while since I’ve really put myself back out there, and I’m ready for something good. Something real.” 

He gave a half-smile from his side of the couch. “I’m happy for you, Astride. I hope you have a great time, and I hope he treats you right. If he doesn’t, just let him know that you can sic an entire professional hockey team on him with a single phone call.” 

“I will,” she said. “I’ll call you when it’s over, tell you how it went.” “

I’ll be waiting,” he said. 

Anthony thought back on the conversation as he sat on the corner of his bed that night, about to go to sleep. He turned his phone over and over in his hands, his eyes fixating on the chip in the crown molding that he hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet. He wasn’t lying to Astride when he said he was happy for her. He was, of course he was, who wouldn’t want their best friend to be happy? But while he wanted nothing more, nothing more, than to be able to give his full-throated support for her date, and the potential the future held for her and this Cole guy, he couldn’t do it. There was something stopping him. And the worst part of it all was that Anthony was starting to realize what it was. 

---

Astride had said that their dinner reservation was at 7, some brasserie in the West Village. “That’s a French thing, right?” Cole had asked. 

“It is,” Astride responded, gearing up for her translation skills to be used for the first time in months. She spoke almost exclusively French around Tito, and with JGP and Brassard, but the majority of her day was spent in English. Cole said that the restaurant had come highly recommended from one of his Wall Street friends, something that should have been the first red flag. 

“Never trust the finance bros,” Reese, a German specialist and one of her friends at the office, had said. “They all think they’re God’s gift to mankind when I can guarantee you they ain’t shit.”  

She had said it was at 7, so Anthony wasn’t expecting to hear from her until much later; honestly, he would have been surprised if she had called before 10. He tried not to think about what it could mean if she didn’t call at all that night. She had said it was at 7, so when he heard a knock at his door at half past nine, he practically jumped out of his skin before scrambling to open the door. His eyebrows rose when he saw Astride on the other side of the door, then his face contorted into a look of sympathy as he saw the sad smile on her lips, her jacket slung over one arm. 

“Can I come in?” she asked. He nodded without question, holding the door while stepping out of the way. He padded to the kitchen, bringing out a bottle of Moscato and two glasses. Astride smiled gratefully at him as he uncorked the bottle and poured. He knew that she couldn’t do red wine when she was upset, and she was upset. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively. 

Astride shrugged, sipping the wine. “Not much to tell other than it was probably the worst first date I’ve ever been on.” 

That piqued Anthony’s interest. He’d never be happy that she was upset, but something told him the story wasn’t quite that simple. “What about it was so bad?” 

“Where do I begin?” she sighed. “He was on time, but that’s pretty much the only thing Cole did right the entire night. He was rude to the waitress when we had to wait all of ten minutes until our reservation was ready, because the couple ahead had gone long. Then he ordered the most expensive bottle of red wine they had, without even asking me to see what I wanted. He really just was trying to show off that he could afford it. And it was a Sangiovese, and you know I hate dry wines, so I was just trying to choke the whole thing down. And then he insisted on ordering for me, which is probably the most chauvinistic thing I could think of, I mean, who does that anymore?” she asked incredulously. 

Tito shrugged. It was disrespectful, absolutely, but more than that, it was just weird. If women have mouths that work, then they’re more than capable of doing something as simple as ordering their own food. 

“And he kept trying to pour me more wine after the first glass, even when I told him a million times I was good.” Anthony’s grip on his glass tightened. Astride rubbed her temples with her free hand. “He just kept going on and on about work, and this big promotion he’s insisting he’s going to get even though I know for a fact that they want Maria for it. I could barely get a word in edgewise. That’s when I just decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I faked that Jean-Claude was calling, grabbed my jacket, and caught a cab over here.” She looked up at him, the same disappointed expression she had worn when he opened the door. “I was really hoping this one would pan out, Tito.” 

He felt an ache in his heart. He may have been less than thrilled about the prospect of Astride going out on a date, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her so despondent. He leaned over, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. “I know, Asty. And I’m sorry it didn’t.”

December 13 (mon)

Anthony and Mat were the last ones in the locker room after a morning practice. “I found this new place nearby last week that’s got great smoothie bowls, want to get one after you finish packing your stuff?” Anthony asked, looking over at Mat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, Sounds good,” Mat nodded, half-listening. 

Anthony glanced over at him, a weird look on his face. “You good, dude? You sound distracted.”

Mat spoke abruptly, looking over at Tito with a laser-focused expression. “How long have you been in love with Astride?” 

Anthony’s eyebrows jumped a foot. “In love with Astride? Why would you think that?”

Mat gave him a look, the kind of look that let Anthony know he was dead serious about what he was saying, and more than that, that he believed it. “Tito, I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.”

Anthony leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “It’s that obvious?” 

“Yep,” Mat said, popping the p. 

“Do you think she knows?” His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know,” Mat said, shrugging. “I don’t think so, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to really be able to know about something as big as that and not address it. Doesn’t like to keep things bottled up, it’s not really her style.”

Anthony nodded. “It’s not.” He raked one hand through his haid, his head still leaning on the other one. “God. How do you tell your best friend you’re in love with her?”

Mat put one hand on Beau’s back, comforting him as best he could. “I don’t know, Tito. I wish I could help. What I do know,” he said, “is that you’re going to have to eventually. Because it’s going to tear you up if you don’t.”

December 18 (sat)

Astride tossed one final empty can into the garbage bag. “I think that’s it,” she said, giving his living room a cursory look. What had looked like a warzone only less than an hour before now more closely resembled the somewhat-messy but perfectly respectable bachelor pad of a man in his 20s, like it should have. With the holidays approaching, Anthony had decided to take it into his own hands to host a party — alongside Astride, who he had practically begged for help — intent on showcasing his newly-acquired skills by playing bartender the whole night. He was surprisingly capable, Astride had thought, if her Sazerac was anything to go by. 

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Asty. And thanks for staying and helping clean everything up, you really didn’t have to.” 

She tied the bag off and set it by the door with the other one. “I wanted to. And besides, I’m staying over,” she said, looking over at Anthony, “so what did you think I was going to do? Lock myself in the guest room while you cleaned up the whole apartment by yourself? What kind of a woman do you take me for?” she asked in mock offense. 

Anthony laughed, sitting down on the couch with a satisfying thump, pulling Astride into his side when she settled next to him. 

“I’m so glad we got back in contact,” she said, muffled against the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m so glad we’re friends again.” 

He felt guilty; more than that, he knew that the guilt, at least some of it, was deserved. “I should have done more,” he lamented. “I should have done more to keep in contact, more to show you I cared, more so you’d know that your friendship is one of the things I value most in my life.” 

Astride gave a small smile. “It’s a two-way street, Tito. Sure, I won’t lie and say that you really put all that much effort into keeping in contact. You didn’t.” He winced, she shot him a sympathetic look. “I love you, but you know me. I don’t mince my words. But I definitely could have done more than text you congratulations or leave a thirty-second voicemail on your birthday. We both could have done more. We both should have done more,” she said, correcting herself. “What do you think happened, though? Where did we go wrong?” As much as she might have hated it, Astride was that kind of person. She went through every bad decision in her life with a fine-toothed comb, needing to know what went wrong, needing to know what she could have done differently. 

“I think,” he began, “that it was just so easy to get distracted from ‘back home’ things. From our friendship, from my relationships with my family. From the important things, the things that I should have made an effort to prioritize even when the season got hectic and games got hard. And I’m not trying to make excuses,” he added quickly, “but there was just something about where I was, physically and mentally. I was 19, a rookie in one of the biggest cities in the world, and I think I just lost sight of things. Between the practices and games and going out and community events and trying to get in more than five hours of sleep a night, it was a lot,” he admitted. “It was stressful, probably weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I’m well aware I was — and am — living a life thousands of kids would kill for, but there’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes that you don’t really understand unless you’ve been through it. I don’t have many regrets from my rookie season, or really many in my career so far. Don’t regret moving for minors, don’t regret going to the Isles, don’t regret any of the contracts I’ve signed or plays I’ve made. Well,” he smirked, “maybe a few. But the one big one? The only real regret I’ve had? Letting you go.” 

Astride swallowed hard, choosing her next words carefully. “What do you mean, letting me go?”

Anthony let out a hard sigh. He’d put it off for long enough. He couldn’t do it any longer. “Never telling you how I feel.”

“How you feel?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her fingers tangling in the fringe of the fleece blanket that was slung over the couch cushions. 

“Like I love you so much my heart could burst.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “How long have you known?”

He looked at her with a soft smile. “Ever since Switzerland.”

“Six years?”

“Six years.” He reached out slowly, so slowly, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear when she didn’t move back. They sat in silence for a moment, and when Anthony spoke again, his voice wavered. “Asty? Say something.”

Astride’s lifted her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I knew since I was 15.”

His face split into a grin, wider and wider until she was sure she’d never seen a bigger smile. “You did? You do?”

She nodded, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat fluttering butterfly-fast underneath her fingertips. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was, Tito.”

He pushed forward, pressing his lips against hers for the first time since 2015, the first time since Switzerland. It was gentle and meaningful and somehow communicated all of the love and emotion that had been built up between the two of them in the past six years. Anthony pulled back after a minute, his lips pink and slightly puffy. “Tell me where your head’s at, Astride.”

“Is it too cliché to just say that this might be the happiest I’ve been in years?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.” But there was something that she wasn’t quite letting go of. “What is it, Astride?”

Astride sniffed. “I want this. You and I, I want it so mad it hurts. I just hate the idea that we’d turn into some sort of cliché. Childhood friends who grow up and fall in love, but something goes wrong and they split up and suddenly the dynamic of everything is messed up and I don’t want that, Tito. I don’t know if I could deal with you hating me because of how things ended.” 

“But things don’t have to end, Asty. Every broken heart, every date where some asshole has stood you up has led you to know that you deserve more. You deserve so much more, Astride, you deserve the sun and the moon and someone who would hang them in the sky for you. It doesn’t have to end in heartbreak. It doesn’t have to end at all.” 

Astride had always been someone who was cautious, someone who thought before she acted and never spoke without thinking through every possible outcome. But this was one of the times that she couldn’t do that, one of the times when, as much as she may have hated it, she needed to take a leap of faith. And so she did. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Anthony asked, his voice lifting. 

She nodded, the happiness on her face unmistakable. “Okay.”

And as Astride and Anthony FaceTimed her parents to break the news, her mom slapping her dad’s shoulder, claiming that she had “called it” back in 2014, Astride was filled with a sense of undeniable, irreplaceable joy. The kind of joy that the poets write about and artists put brush to canvas trying to depict, the kind that most people go their whole lives only hoping to get a glimpse of. The kind that made Astride more certain of one thing than she had perhaps been in her entire life. It didn’t have to end in heartbreak. And this one didn’t have to end at all. 

And as they stood two years later in a little church in their hometown, promising in front of their family and friends and the entire New York Islanders to love each other for the rest of their lives, Astride finally believed it.

[xbaepsae]

the ebb and flow | part seven

“The son of Poseidon stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. It seems to burn hotter across your skin than the fire is right now.”

[demigod!jeongguk x demigod!reader]

genre: percy jackson!au, mythology!au, demigod!au, enemies to lovers!au

word count: 1.7k

rating: pg-13

warnings: language, the usual character tension

a/n: merry belated christmas (to those who celebrate)! and happy (almost) new years! stay safe and healthy everyone. hope 2021 is a better one for all of us. xoxo

→ series masterlist!

the fifth summer – in which you fall (quite literally)

At the end of your first week of cleaning the stables with Jeongguk, you manage another capture the flag win. Nothing brought you more joy than seeing the look of absolute anguish on Park Jimin’s face when you ripped his red flag from right between his hands.

“Better luck next week, Park,” you teased as your cabin raised you up on their shoulders. “Guess we all can’t be winners.”

Your cabin celebrated with its allies at the campfire that night���singing and dancing to your heart's delight. Normally, you’re not one to dance much; the act is entirely too embarrassing to do in front of so many people. However, maybe it’s the stress from the week or the high from the win, but you feel the need to shake all your worries away.

And dancing proves to be a great stress reliever.

To the beat of drums and lyre playing, you sway your body beside your friends. Haru takes your hands in her own and spins you around, to which you can’t help but laugh. The two of you must look ridiculous right now. She spins you around in another 360 and you close your eyes, taking in the heat from the fire. When you open your eyes, you meet the cool gaze of someone you didn’t expect to still be here.

Across the campfire, Jeon Jeongguk stands by himself. You didn’t expect him to be here because his cabin was on the losing team. You thought that maybe he would be sulking in his cabin like Jimin probably is right now. Instead, his eyes seem glued to you. The son of Poseidon stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. It seems to burn hotter across your skin than the fire is right now.

Even though he is yards away, you feel incredibly exposed at this moment. His round eyes are illuminated by the fire, and they seem to pierce you like he can see right into your soul or something. After another second, you force yourself to look away—the tension is just too much to take right now.

“Are you okay?” Haru’s voice breaks your thoughts.

Looking up, you notice concern clouding her eyes; however, there is also a gleam of interest there—probably wondering what made you stop dancing.

“I’m fine,” you tell her. “Just dizzy, I guess.”

Haru doesn’t seem to buy it, but she doesn’t pester you about it again. “Well, too bad—I want to keep dancing with my best friend!”

The next morning, you make your way towards the stables feeling more exhausted than usual; body still slightly aching from last night’s festivities. When you arrive, Jeongguk is already there leaning against the gated entrance. Probably hearing your footsteps draw closer, he looks up; however, you don’t meet his gaze. Instead, you pretend the rising sun has captured your attention.

Fishing the key out of your back pocket, you unlock the gates and greet the Pegasi already vying for your attention. And much like the other days, you both work in silence again; you even go out of your way to avoid passing by him or having to make small talk. During your other hours here, the silence was at least kind of bearable. However, today, for some reason, something feels different and you don’t like it one bit.

As the hours pass by, the silence seems to eat you alive. It’s all that you can hear. Or maybe it’s just your heart racing and blood rushing past your ears. Whatever it is, you’re about to reach your breaking point.

“Are you joining your cabin later?”

You nearly drop your broom at the sound of Jeongguk’s voice echoing through the thick silence. Styx, he scared you. “What’s happening later?”

Even though he’s on the other side of the stables, you can feel him take a step closer. “You know, the canoe races. The one that’s always held during the summer around this time.”

In all honesty, you’d forgotten all about the canoe races. And this isn’t like the recreational, free time canoeing you can do. No—this race is one that all the cabins participate in. It’s just as intense and competitive as it sounds. You’ve never participated before, so it must’ve slipped your mind. But unlike you, Jeongguk has always participated—you know, being the son of the sea god and everything.

“I usually don’t, so probably not,” you say.

“It’s your last summer, right?” he suddenly asks.

You turn around at the question. “Why, yes. As a matter of fact, it is. I’m planning to attend college in New Rome.”

Which means, you don’t know when you’ll ever be back at Camp Half-Blood since New Rome is equally as safe for demigods. The thought makes you feel bittersweet since Long Island is your home. You’d always thought you’d be here, probably continuing to offer your services to the camp. However, there’s an opportunity to expand your life on the other side of the country; you’d be foolish not to go.

“So, you should participate then,” Jeongguk breaks your thoughts.

“I think we already settled on who would participate. Besides, there’s always more cabin canoe races throughout summer,” you add as a rebuttal. “Maybe then.”

“What a shame,” he hums. “I really wanted to beat you this time around.”

Jeongguk’s mention of obtaining a win begins to turn the gears of your rivalry in your head. You should’ve known he would do something like this; the son of Poseidon just loves to egg you on. And sadly, you always seem to give in.

“We’ll see about that.”

***

“I’m going to participate in the canoe race.”

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “What? I thought we already decided on who would participate.”

“I know, but I want to do it. You know, I’ve never participated before,” you tell him. “I should try this year.”

“You’ve never participated because you—”

You cut him off. “I have to beat Jeon Jeongguk at his own game. I will not settle for anything less.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “You and that damn rivalry. I know you hate the guy, but I don’t think this is worth it.”

“Jeon is a thorn at my side; beating him during the canoe race is my chance to gain some leverage on him,” you say, ignoring what your half-brother just said.

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Just don’t say I didn’t try to talk you out of it.”

***

The breeze from the Long Island Sound whips your hair. You put it in a braid earlier to keep it at bay, but your baby hairs don’t seem like they want to cooperate today.

“I’m so excited, y/n,” Harrison, a second-year in your cabin, practically vibrates with serotonin beside you. “Thanks for allowing me to join.”

“Of course,” you offer him a smile. At least, you hope it’s a smile.

A part of you wishes that you listened to what Namjoon said earlier. Because at the end of the day, he’s one of the few people that know you well and maybe he’s right; maybe trying to beat Jeongguk today isn’t worth it.

“Are you okay?” Haru is suddenly in front of you. “Namjoon told me to come and talk to you, and try to talk you out of this because—”

“I’m fine, Haru,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

Your best friend raises a brow at you. “You know, I’ve gotten pretty good and figuring when you’re lying to me. I know you always feel this intense need to beat Jeongguk at everything…though, I do wonder now if you’re starting to feel something else towards him…”

“Haru,” you warn.

She laughs a little. “Only joking.”

“I promise, I’m okay; don’t worry about me. This race will be quick anyway.”

“Whatever you say, y/n.”

Once everyone else arrives and the canoes are pushed into the water, you settle behind four others from your cabin. Harrison is seated in front of you, that beaming smile still stretched across his lips. “This is so exciting.”

The gentle rocking of the canoe does nothing to ease your nerves. If anything, it actually makes you feel sicker than you already are. “Let’s win this, for Athena!”

For Athena, your half-siblings mimic as they reach for their oars. Next to your canoe is none other than Poseidon’s cabin—whoever’s idea that was is definitely going to get a mouthful from you later—which means you-know-who is already staring at you.

“See you from the other side of the finish line,” Jeongguk taunts with a smirk. You try to return the same attitude tenfold.

“Don’t even think about any of your dirty tricks, Jeon.”

He scoffs. “Poseidon always plays fair.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “We’re in a huge body of water—nothing could possibly go in your favor.”

You don’t know if he catches your sarcasm, and you don’t have time to. Because before you can even think about it, the race begins at the blow of a whistle.

Sure enough, like you already predicted, Poseidon’s cabin gets the immediate lead. But you don’t let it faze you; this actually motivates you to work harder—commanding your cabin to row faster.

However, what you fail to realize is that what originally seemed like a beautiful day on the lake is suddenly shifting in the blink of an eye. Because you’re all concentrated on reaching the finish line, you don’t see the sudden storm clouds looming in on the horizon. The wind picks up and water begins to rise, rocking the canoes dangerously.

You grab onto the sides of the canoe for support, but it’s no match against the current. The gods must be angry. And when a wave crashes against the canoe, you lose your balance and plummet headfirst into the water.

Through the muffled sound of water rippling past your ears, you can hear echoed screams. But they seem terribly far away as you struggle to break the surface. Your hands grasp for air, but the tows of the current feel like a weight on your ankles as you begin to sink deeper into the water.

Worst of all, you can’t swim.

[dreams-of-emerald]

The blaring sound of the alarm clock enveloped the once quiet room. It continued for a few more seconds before it was turned off.

The first one to open their eyes was the female in bed, despite not being the one who reached out for the alarm clock. She smiled as she gazed upon her husband who seemed to have gone back to dreamland.

“I’ll make breakfast, love.” She said and kissed his temples before getting up.

She slipped on her slippers, grabbed her hair tie before proceeding to their kitchen.

Like always, she would tie her long blonde hair in a messy bun as she hates to have it getting in the way of her cooking.

She washed her hand before touching any ingredients that she set up, as a doctor, and ever since she was a kid she had always been wary of germs.

“What to make?” She whispered to herself. Her blue eyes landed on a loaf of brioche bread before an idea came to mind.

While she was busy cooking. She finally heard the showers turned on which could only mean that her husband had finally gotten up.

They had been married for 5 years now.

Their story was your typical romance tale. They had been childhood sweethearts, met at summer camp became friends, and turned into lovers. They were together for 4 years before he proposed. She had to finish her studies in the medical field before they got married.

Nina, her name, or what at least the closest people call her. She filled her cup with coffee and she did the same for her husband. She set up the sandwiches that she made on separate plates and sat down.

She was staring into thin air and thinking about the past when she felt her husband kiss the top of her head.

“Seem to be in deep thoughts.” Her husband said before he took the seat in front of her. “Yeah, just thinking about when we first met.

A grin spread on the man in front of him. “The time when I fell from the tree trying to impress you?” He took a sip of his coffee.

She rolled her eyes. “You said you were trying to get a better view of the camp.”

“And you believed me?” His tone sounded amused.

“Well, I pretended to.” She smirked and gave a wink which made him chuckle in return.

“So, what do we have here?” He looked at the sandwich on his plate.

“They call that egg drop sandwich in Korea. Made my version.”

He nodded before taking a bite. “Hmmm.”

“Do you like it?”

“I always like what you make-but this is amazing.”

“Glad you approve.”

“What are those? Extras?”

“For you and Lucas. You two should stop skipping meals. You’re police, it would be embarrassing to die from hunger.”

Lucas was his partner cop, they’ve been colleagues since he started his career. Though Lucas was older than him, they seemed to hit it off.

“We won’t.”

Yes, Henrik Berg, her husband is part of the law enforcement. While he was busy protecting the city, she was busy saving lives. That’s how their team work.

She went back to her coffee. “I was thinking.”

“Hmmm?”

“Well I read a book that there are two realities, hypothetically thinking- if there is, I wonder what you’d look like? What your career is?”

Ever since he was young, Henrik always wanted to be a police officer like his grandpa. He loved hearing how his grandpa was able to help out with cases. He caught bad guys. It intensified when he saw DC heroes and Marvel. Sure, he can’t be batman but the closes to becoming a superhero is by being a cop.

“What do you think?” He asked trying to humor his wife.

“You know, I didn’t notice this until now. But if you grow your hair long.”

“I can’t, love.”

“I know, but if you did, you’ll look like Thor!”

He thought for a while. “I don’t think so, hun.”

“Then maybe you had long hair on the alternate universe.”

“Lucas is rubbing his geekiness on you.”

“We’ll you gotta hand it to the guy. He knows how to make a conversation. The problem is when he would stop.” She said then took a bite on her sandwich.

Henrik chuckled as he waited for her to swallow her food.

“Oh! but love, It would be amazing if your skills were that of spiderman.”

“A face like Thor and spiderman skills?”

She sips on her coffee. “Yeah, like a climbing instructor or something.”

Henrik shook his head. “And what would you be?”

“I’d still be hot.”

Henrik laughed nearly choking on his last bite. “Well you are, babe but your job?”

“I dunno, something that I haven’t had the courage to do like vlogging?”

“Don’t you want to start doing it?”

“And what would be my content? Surgeries?” She raises her eyebrow. “Hi everyone! Welcome to my channel! For today, I’m gonna show you how to remove a tumor.” she said in a chirpy voice.

Henrik laughed once more.

“I’m sure as hell that my video would be removed before I could even get a view.”

Henrik shook his head before raising his hands in defeat.

“So, I’ll leave the vlogging to my other self.”

“What if she’s not a vlogger.”

“Then she’d be a pop star.”

“If she isn’t?”

“I dunno, a student? Working community service? Why are you ruining my jobs?”

“You’re a surgeon, love. No one can top that.”

“Um… Taylor Swift?” She shook her head. “That’s not the point, can we leave my occupation to vlogging?”

Henrik nodded with an amused expression as he took another sip from his cup. “So how’d we meet?”


“I dunno if we’d even meet.”

“If we don’t… this discussion is over.”

“You’re no fun.” Nina pouted. “Well, we could meet like how modern humans meet.”

“Dating app?”

“Let's make it interesting. Like a dating show where one gets dump if we fail to get a couple.”

“Okay, and how would that work?”

“And we’d only be living in one villa or something to establish a connection.”

“For a minute you sounded like Lucas.”

“Love, please?”

“Alright continue.”

“And the setting should be a tropical Island. Like we’d be wearing swimwear throughout the day.

“No way! No deal! No one is eyeing on you-“

“Babe it’s just a thought and we’re already married.”

“Yes, we are. So leave our alternate selves and let them live their lives please.”

Nina laughed. “Alright alright.”

“Where do you get these weird ideas anyway?”

“You know what?” His wife looked at him. “I wish your alternate self would be the spontaneous and creative one in their ralationship.”
“That would be a totally different me.”

“That’s the point, love.” She grinned. “Anyway, now that my thoughts are out. You should go to work. I hear a car pulling over.”

“Alright. Thanks for breakfast.” Henrik got up and grabbed th food that his wife packed.

He kissed her forehead before leaving. “Enjoy your rest day, love. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, take care and comeback alive.”

“Will do.”

With that he went out and closed the door.

“Alright! Now, to do the chores.”

And this is how Nina Berg spends her rest day.

_______ M E A N W H I L E_______

In another part of the world-

A blonde haired woman with the same features and name was seen getting up early. She tried to enjoy the morning sunshine. The cool, morning air carried the sound of the gentle melodies of the birds.

Just then, a splash could be heard coming from the pool. Her eyes scanned the pool area and found two boys sitting with their feet in water. The blond one was dripping wet

She could hear him say “I can’t believe we’re really here.” As a grin spread on his lips.

“Tell me about it! I can’t wait to meet the girls.” She almost didn’t caught what the black hair lad said.

But definitely, this was the start of an amazing summer.

——END——-

So, I was watching the Good doctor and put that aside for Hawaii five 0 and I got hooked. Then I saw Fear street all 4 of ‘em so my mind went crazy with a lot of thoughts popping here and there as a result. — this short fic.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 30

Welcome to chapter 30. It's moving time and Rowan and Aelin finally enjoy their new house. This chapter also has a lot of domestic fluff. :)

There are two chapters left in the story and the epilogue and this adventure is almost over.

Enjoy.

--------

Summer had decided to linger a bit longer that year and Rowan was happy that the sun was shining. It was moving day and they needed good weather. Lysandra and Aedion had offered to help and now the two men were unloading the van that they had finished preparing the night before. Rowan had no idea of how much stuff they had until they had started loading the van. “Well, I guess I won’t need the gym for a while,” joked Aedion carrying another box in the house. “We’ll have a nice dinner tonight to recharge.” “A nice juicy stake.” Rowan flinched “No can do. Aelin can’t stand beef at the moment. She can tolerate chicken if cooked in a certain way, not good with turkey and pork depends on days. But for some reason fish is not an issue. So I am very limited in what I can cook.” “I’ll be happy with anything.” Aedion shrugged.

Then Rowan turned his gaze to Aelin and Lysandra, sitting on the grass drinking iced tea and probably gossiping. Aedion joined him “I would have died of an heart attack if anything like that had happened to Lys.” Rowan sighed “I had a panic attack at the hospital. Never had one in my life. I had one when I saw her unconscious in bed.” Rowan looked at her. The cuts were now just pink lines on her body and were healing nicely and the bruises had finally gone. The cut on her head was healing as well and the stitched had finally come off but the horrible scar was still visible until her hair around the wound would grow back, so Aelin had started wearing bandanas for when there were other people around. He had bought her a few colourful ones so she could chose according to her mood. “Lys, you are not pregnant. You could help.” Shouted Aedion. “I am helping by making sure Aelin is fine.” “Skiver.” Commented Aedion. “She is right, I need a lot of support” chimed in Aelin. The two women laughed and the men went back to their jobs. They had removed their t-shirts and now both Lys and Aelin were staring at them in appreciation. “I am glad we are in the middle of nowhere because I would be very upset to share such vision with someone else.”muttered Aelin and Lysandra laughed “me too. And now that Aedion got some tan on him…” Aelin laughed back. They stared at their men a bit longer then Lysandra stood “I am making lunch. They need sustenance.” She walked to them “Are you guys hungry?” Aedion cleared some sweat from the forehead with his arm “Starving.” “In the kitchen there is a bag on the table that has stuff I brought from the old house that needs to be used. There are cherry tomatoes and salmon flakes. I usually make a pasta condiment with them, Aelin loves it.” “Good.” She winked at them. “Thank, Lys.” Said Rowan to the woman. “It’s the least I can do. Those muscles need fuel.” And she left them with a laugh. Forty minutes later Lysandra called from the kitchen window that the food was ready. Rowan stopped working and went to her followed by Aedion. Together they brought the food out in the garden where Aelin was camped. Rowan brought a plate to Aelin and kissed her head “extra portion for you.” “It smells amazing.” Once everything was out and on the table cloth Rowan had placed on the ground, they all finally sat down for lunch. “This is actually quite amazing. Aedion and I have been having loads of meals outside since we moved her. It’s so nice. Definitely not something we could do in London.” Aelin placed the plate on the bump and Lysandra laughed “that’s handy.” “It is when you are so big that even leaning forward to eat can be a chore.” “How does it feel being stuck at home?” Aelin sighed “Is not that I have any other choice. Yrene has noticed some sign of placental abruption and sit and rest is all I am allowed to do until our girls are out.” And while she said that she took Rowan’s hand. He was with her at her last checkup when Yrene had given them the bad news. She saw terror in his eyes and she was willing to listen and stay put in order to avoid seeing that stare on him once again. Since her accident he had been far more protective and she had let him. Yrene had told her about his panic attack and her heart almost shattered at the image of him broken on the floor. “Well, Evalin is coming soon so you should be okay.” “Yeah, mum is coming in a week.” Aelin smiled. She was actually looking forward to seeing her mother again. It had been over a year and she realised she missed her. Rowan stood “Anyone wants seconds?” Aelin and Aedion passed him their plates. Lysandra stood as well “I am helping you.” She followed him in the kitchen and noticed his dark stare “Rowan, are you okay?” “Yeah,” his tone was flat while he filled the plates with more pasta. “Wanna talk about it?” “I almost lost her, them, Lys.” He let out, placing the spoon on the counter “If it hadn’t been for the belt she, they…” and he could not finish the sentence “I have never been more terrified in my life. I can’t leave her alone because I now have this irrational fear that something might happen. I am glad her mother is coming. It will allow me to go back to work and relax when I am not with her.” Lysandra saw his hands shake and she placed her on his “She is my best friend. I love her like a sister and when I got your call explaining what happened I cried for half an hour and I am glad I had no customers in the shop. Until I saw her I felt like I could not breathe.” He turned to her “don’t tell her any of this, please. She has enough to worry about without adding me.” “She knows, Ro. She knows you are worried and she probably noticed you are fussing more than usual and she is letting you because she knows it means a lot to you.” Rowan sighed “Thank you for being here today.” “Now let’s go back outside, we have to starving partners waiting for us, and Aedion gets grumpy when he is hungry.” They left the kitchen and went back to the garden “we bring more food for our bottomless pits.” “Hey, even Rowan is taking seconds today.” Aelin joked while grabbing her plate. “I am working, Fireheart, I need sustenance.” “We don’t want your nice muscle to suffer…” she kissed him tenderly.

It was late in the evening and after dinner when Aedion and Lysandra left and Rowan and Aelin stood in the mess that was their new house. “I guess that once we clear up all the boxes it will look much better.” Said Rowan, sitting on the sofa beside her and staring at the wall of boxes in front of them. “At least we have a kitchen, the bedroom and the bathroom. Our priorities are right.” “We’ll tackle one problem at a time.” He said placing a hand on her knee “I am wiped. We should go and enjoy our first night in our new house.” “I wish we could break in the new bedroom with some crazy sex but I guess it will have to wait.” He leaned forward to kiss her “it has to. Yrene said absolutely no sex.” “Spoilsport.” Rowan stood and offered his hands to her “come on, let’s get you three in bed.” “You really know how to woo a woman.” Rowan laughed and slowly they both walked upstairs. In their new home. Another tassel in their adventure together.

***

Rowan came back from the shop a bit later than usual. He had been teaching extra stuff to Lysandra. The woman was still helping him in the shop. Her job had been cancelled altogether and there were no openings at the hospital at the moment so she was more than happy to work in the bookshop and earn some money. “Aelin?” He walked around the ground floor but could not see her “Aelin?” Then he heard a thump and ran upstairs. He found her in the twins room, surrounded by pieces of wood and toys. “What are you doing?” His voice sounded panicked. That was the complete opposite of resting. “We have been so busy unpacking the house that we ignored the nursery. There is nothing ready and the girls will be here in four weeks. Aelin had been nesting for a few days now. She had become obsessed with tidying up the house, clean and get everything ready for the twins. All things she was not allowed to do as she was meant to be on bed rest. He sat down beside her “I can do it in a couple of days.” He pulled her to him. “We need to paint the walls, make sure we have all the clothes and all the stuff we need.” She rambled on listing all the jobs that need doing but Rowan was his usual calm self. “The nursery will be ready before they arrive, I promise.” “I tried…” and she started crying “I wanted to build the crib but with my big fat belly I can’t do much. I wanted to help.” Aelin leaned against his chest and kept sobbing. “Let me get changed into house clothes and I can start painting the room.” Aelin brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. “Do you want to use the pastel green we choose?” Aelin nodded. “Good.” He kissed her and left the room. Aelin gathered one of the stuffed toys on the floor and hugged it to her chest and then talked to her daughters “dad will make you a lovely room.” She looked around the empty nursery “nice and welcoming.” Rowan came back ten minutes later in shorts and a t-shirt “Ok, now you let me work in peace okay?” He passed her a box full of clothes “you can sort and organise the baby clothes. It’s an easy job and you can sit down for it.” She looked up at him “I love you.” He must have been exhausted. He had been unpacking the whole house by himself and gone to work as well and now he was painting the babies’ room. She started sorting through the clothes but then she stopped “we can’t use these.” Rowan turned “why?” “They are new. They have been in a bag since we bought them and then in a box. They are not clean. We have to wash them first.” Rowan sighed “put the clothes in a pile and I’ll wash them.” “I can do that.” Rowan got off the ladder and joined her “no you can’t. The laundry room is in the basement and you are not going there.” “I feel useless,” she started crying “you are doing everything. And you are working as well. All I do is sit and sleep.” He kneeled in front of her “That’s what Yrene needs you to do. Stay in bed, sit down, relax. Please.” Then he went to get a box “you can assemble the mobile for the crib. It’s easy.” “Yes.” She opened the box and gasped as she noticed the figurines “Rowan…” “I had it custom made. I found this amazing wood carver and I asked him to do this for me.” The figurines were all hand carved and beautifully painted. He had elves, a buzzard, a female figurine she was positive it was her and a knight with silver hair as well. It was something beautiful “Ro, this…” she had no words “this is gorgeous.” “I wanted them to have something original. I am no a fan of the plastic stuff you get in regular stores.” “I love it so much…”

It was two hours later when Rowan announced the room was done. Aelin had been keeping an eye but now that it was finished she was stunned. He had painted the pastel green they had decided and he had added stencil images of trees and clouds. The room looked amazing. He sat down beside her and Aelin laughed when she noticed the smudges of paint on his face and on his hair “launching a new style?” She ruffled his hair and kissed him. “Do you like it?” “It’s perfect.” She looked around the room then placed a hand on the bump “you have an amazing room, girls. Dad made sure of it.” Rowan eventually stood “Let’s go downstairs, I’ll make dinner.” Aelin shook her head “let’s order in. You have worked all day and then came home and did all this,” she motioned to the room “you are not cooking as well,” she shook her head again “you need to rest too.” “Can I at least phone the restaurant, place the order and collect it?” Aelin smiled wickedly “I am not sure you are qualified enough.” Rowan kneeled in front of her and kissed her “what, you think you are better than me at ordering food?” Aelin nodded, pulling him to her “I have a master and a PhD in it. I am a pro.” Rowan laughed and kissed her “Let’s go downstairs, the room needs to air.” He offered her a hand and helped her stand and slowly they made their way to the living room which had started to look a bit less like a mess. Rowan had been unpacking all of the boxes and together they decided which book place on the bookshelves in the living room. The library was still empty as they were waiting for the bookcases to be delivered. Right now it only had boxes in the middle of it waiting to be emptied. Between the two of them they had so many books that they could open a public library. Rowan was not worried. That job was not a priority. They would have to decide an order for shelving and they had to sort the books first. Aelin plopped heavily on the sofa and Rowan joined, then she grabbed her phone “Shall we have Chinese?” He leaned back on the sofa exhausted and nodded at Aelin and she noticed it and leaned over to kiss him. Then she phoned their favourite Chinese restaurant and convinced them to deliver to their address outside town. She was happy to pay extra and tip the driver as well. “They are happy to deliver.” “I could have gone to pick it up.” He added. “No.” He hand brushed his hair “Ro, you are exhausted. I don’t want you to drive all the way to Stornoway and back at night when you are seconds from falling asleep.” “Now, who is the one who is fussing?” He turned his head and gave her a wicked smile. “Fine. I am fussing but I am not letting you drive when you are this tired.” Rowan leaned forward begging for a kiss that she in the end gave him “I told Lys I am taking the day off tomorrow.” Aelin’s face lit up in delight “Good.” She flicked his nose “But we are sleeping in, then you can work all you want. But for once I don’t want you to get out of bed before ten.” “Nine.” “Ten.” She pushed, knowing full well that Rowan was an early riser and eight was the longest she ever managed to keep him in bed and now she couldn’t even use sex as an excuse. He sighed “you win. I’ll stay in bed with you until ten. But you stay in bed, rest and let me work. Do we have an agreement?” She huffed and yielded “fine, we have an agreement.” In that instant the doorbell rang and Rowan ran to get their food. He came back with all the containers and five minutes later they were tucking in in their food both ravenous and Rowan didn’t even complain when he realised all the choices Aelin made had little or no veggies. “I was thinking about options for our wedding.” She started, while biting on a spring roll “What about Mabon?’ Rowan looked at her in surprise and love. She had slowly embraced his beliefs without him ever pushing her. She had been curious from the beginning. She had explained him that she had never had any kind of beliefs and had been quite curious about his pagan side. She had been reading about it and asked him all sorts of questions. And now she had impressed him again “what do you know about Mabon?” She put her smug face on, one that Rowan adored “well, I know it’s the second of the three pagan harvest festivals, also I know it’s more modern pagan but I read about the wheel of the year and read about Mabon.” She started explaining “it’s a way to say thank you for the fruits that the Earth bore for us and get a blessing from the Gods.” She continued and noticed he was listening carefully “I know we planned to get married at Beltaine, which had a better symbolism and all,” she pointed at her bump “but that did not happen. So it seems Mabon is the best option, or we can wait till Samhain but I thought it was a bad idea.” Rowan dropped his food container on the table, grabbed the back of Aelin’s head and pulled her in for a fierce kiss “I’ll marry you any time of the year. As long as I get to call you my wife.” He kissed her again “but I love the idea of Mabon. The twins will be here so I am happy.” Aelin smiled “Are you sure?” He nodded vigorously “whatever makes you happy.” Aelin ate another spring roll “Then it’s settled. We are going for Mabon.” And all of a sudden she became alive and Rowan felt as if he could fall in love with her all over again. She grabbed a notepad she had abandoned on the table and a pen and started making notes “Wedding guests. Very small ceremony at Callanish. Intimate but I need to have Malcolm.” Rowan nodded. After what the man had did for Aelin after the accident he owed him, but he also really liked the man. “Then we can have a big ceilidh at Lews castle. Hopefully they are available on that day. And we need to find a ceilidh band. How does that work?” “Leave that to me.” “Good.” Then she started scribbling a bit more “I don’t want a big hoopla but I want some flowers a lovely cake and food for the party. But I want all local businesses.” She scribbled a bit more “your aunt. I’ll ask her. And I need to go back to that amazing seamstress who did my Summer solstice gown. She was amazing.” Rowan took her pen “You don’t have to do all of it tonight. You are on bed rest. You have plenty of time and wedding planning will keep you busy and out of boredom.” She smiled at him. “But I love all you said so far.” “Who is going to celebrate a pagan wedding. Is there a druid catalogue we can choose from?” Rowan roared with laughter “No, Fireheart. But I know a person who will be happy to marry us. She is a friend.” “Was she…” she was afraid to ask “Was she going to marry you an Lyria as well?” He shook his head “No.” His arm went around her shoulder and tucked her in close to him “she wanted the big hoopla. She was going for the full blown wedding in a church, with a lot of guests, a super fancy dress, expensive food and all the trimmings.” “Looks like you saved a lot of money.” She heard Rowan chuckle. Rowan kissed her head and realised Aelin was the only person with whom he could actually joke about what happened with Lyria. With other people he would usually shut down and avoid the topic. “Oh yes, she wanted the whole town to know she had bagged the most eligible bachelor. At least this before the accident.” She squeezed his hand. “Did you empty Chaol’s savings for your wedding?” “I actually wanted a small thing. Small and meaningful. Few friends, a private ceremony and few close friends for the party. I splurged on the wedding dress because I wanted to look awesome.” She explained “but he said he planned to get married only once and convinced me into having a big party. And I mean massive, Ro.” Rowan scoffed. “The man would have gotten married inside Westminster if he could.” She grabbed Rowan’s hand and placed it on the bump, the girls were active again “We almost had the whole of Scotland Yard, and a lot of my work colleagues, friends and family. It was overwhelming and it took ages to prepare. By the end of it I was ready to get married just to finally be free of all the wedding planning.” “I assume fancy honeymoon as well?” Aelin snorted “Maldives. He booked the honeymoon without consulting me as a surprise.” She groaned “I hated it. The whole two weeks.” “I thought you loved beaches.” “I do. But two weeks of nothing but sitting on our arses on a beach and do fuck all?” Rowan laughed “Some people would call that paradise.” “Well I don’t. I wanted to do Europe. Visit some capitals, soak in the history, visit museums, see Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Italy…” “We can do that. You and I.” “How? I can’t leave the twins on their own as newborns. They need me.” Rowan kissed her again “Once you are not nursing anymore. When they will start eating solid food, we’ll take two weeks off. I am sure your mom and my aunt will be happy to babysit for us.” “Are you sure?” His hand brushed her long blond hair and moved a wild strand behind her ear “Positive. When the time is right we’ll have a lovely honeymoon on the continent. I have been to Prague but not the rest and I’d make me very happy to discover it with you.” “Where ave you been all my life?” Her head leaned back against his chest, their hands still joined on the bump, enjoying their daughters’ movements. “Hiding in a bookstore on an island in the west of Scotland.” Then Aelin stood “come on, most eligible bachelor, let’s go to bed.” Rowan stood and started to clear the mess from their dinner but Aelin stopped him. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed. We can clean up tomorrow.” He gave up and followed her. “Did you have fans? Girls coming to see you compete and having the hots for you?” Rowan coughed “Actually yes. It was so annoying.” “Oh poor baby,” Aelin patted his cheek in a mocking tone once they reached the landing at the top of the stairs “must have bee horrible to be famous.” He kissed her “really horrible when you are an introvert and hate the spotlight.” They both got ready and Aelin climbed in bed and Rowan followed soon after “Did you do interviews and such?” “I did. After I kept winning I started to attract the attention. Then when my name was added to the list of people who would travel to Edinburgh and get the chance to become the Scottish swimmer to be part of the national team the town went ballistic. I was the only guy from Lewis. So I let you imagine.” “You were a celebrity,” she snuggled closed to him while laying on her left side and Rowan was in front of her. “Do you ever wonder how your life would have been if you had gone to the Olympics? Perhaps won a gold medal? Married Lyria?” Rowan sighed, grabbed her hand and placed it on his heart “Probably not as happy as I am now.” And he turned and lay on his back, his face staring at the ceiling and her hand still on his heart “most likely divorced as well.” He turned his head to her “I have a gut feeling that my marriage with Lyria would not have lasted long. I don’t know why.” He explained “I loved her. And when I proposed I did it out of love but later, much later when I finally started to accept that she had left me and did not love me anymore I started to think about our relationship and realised that my friends had been right all long. I was fooling myself and she actually never really loved me.” Aelin stared at him. He had closed his eyes and with the back of her hand she traced the lines of his face and saw a thin smile appear on his face. “I love you.” Whispered Aelin while her hand brushed a strand of hair away from his face “Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.” His face blossomed in a bigger smile, and his green eyes were now fixed on her “are you quoting our favourite book?” “You are mine.” She added, kissing him. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her “Is leatsa mi.” He repeated in Gaelic as his mouth trailed soft kisses on her neck. “Girls, dad is a sappy romantic.” She told the twins and heard Rowan scoff. “You started it.” “I know Whitethorn, but I am pregnant and hormonal. You are just sappy.” He grabbed the blanket and buried her underneath it “sleep or I will leave the bed at six tomorrow.” Aelin switched off the light on the nightstand and grabbed his hand, placing it on the bump with hers “night.” “Oidhche mhath, mo chridhe.” He felt a kick from his daughters and slowly fell asleep as well.

TAG:

@rowaelinismyotp

[forestwater87]

Last year I finished all my @gwenvidweek​ prompts like a week ahead of time, and that's why they were really good and not rushed. That didn't happen this year, so if this ending seems like it was slapped together by a very tired bean who hasn't eaten dinner yet and it's almost bedtime, that's because it was. Be gentle. 

(I like the title a lot, though.)

Gwenvid Week, Day 2: Exploring/First Aid

“Gwen! David! Look what I found!”

Gwen took a deep breath, forcing her caffeine-jittery nerves to relax. She emphatically did not want to look what Nerris had found, because whatever Nerris found was almost certainly going to mean work for them -- or her, really, since David had such a great talent for fucking off and leaving her with the hard jobs. She’d already unclogged a toilet, lectured the campers about what could and could not be flushed down a toilet, and she had a pile of bills to pay this afternoon, plus a spider had gotten crushed in the pages of her magazine and she couldn’t read about the Kardashians without staring at bug guts.

So, no. She was not in the mood to deal with anyone’s bullshit today.

David jogged past, catching her by the wrist and tugging her along. “Gwen, didn’t you hear Nerris? Let’s go check it out!”

Speak of the bullshit. She sighed and trudged along behind him, dragging her feet as much as she could without him noticing and giving her a speech about how a good attitude leads to good things. She loved her co-counselor, she really did, but her patience with him was pretty thin at the best of times, and today was not what she’d call the best of times.

Nerris led them to the far edge of the campgrounds, where the shore of Lake Lilac turned into algae-slimy boulders before seamlessly transitioning into dense forest. David opened his mouth, clearly gearing up to give her a stern lecture about safety and the buddy system, when she pointed at a dark spot in the brush. “I think it’th a cave,” she said, her voice hushed and awestruck, “but I can’t really tell.”

Part of her wanted to ask Nerris who cares about a stupid cave, but the part of her that’d been a camp counselor for half a decade knew it would take exactly two and a half seconds for Nikki to decide to explore this if she knew about it. “Thanks,” she said instead, giving Nerris an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Don’t tell the others about this, okay? We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Duh.” She rolled her eyes with an uncharacteristic amount of disdain. “None of them are a high enough level to explore a dungeon thith far from a checkpoint.”

Gwen looked to David for help, and he just shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. Thanks again.”

Once she was gone, David tugged a butterfly knife from his pocket -- it was a shimmery iridescent pink, of course -- and carefully stepped toward the cave, balancing carefully on the slick rocks dotting the sandy dirt.

She rolled her eyes. “What’re you gonna do with that, Crocodile Dundee? Give whatever’s living in there a paper cut?”

He turned to face her, pouting. “We need to take a look before we can block it off from the campers. If there are animals living in there --”

It didn’t look big enough for anything to live in there, as far as Gwen could tell. Just the perfect size for a dumbass camper. “Fine, take a look.”

The butterfly knife wasn’t equipped to deal with clearing brush, so she waited for almost ten minutes, watching a squirrel have an existential crisis and generally zoning out. Finally she heard David’s voice: “Oh! Gwen, this is . . . it’s a lot bigger than it seems.”

No way in hell was she going over to take a look, not when she’d just watched David battle his way through. “Neat.”

“I can’t see the end of it!” He emerged from the cave and picked his way back to her. His legs and arms were lined with tiny scratches, and the red pouf of his fringe was beginning to droop. “I think we need to get a better look.”

Oh, great. This was shaping up to be a whole big thing. “Come on, Daniel Boone,” she said with a sigh, turning to head back. “Let’s get you ready to go exploring.”

David couldn’t go alone, obviously. Even if he wasn’t the most accident-prone person on the planet, Gwen had co-taught enough Wilderness Survival camps to know that letting someone go off on their own was a terrible idea. And after his nightmarish experience getting lost in the woods last summer, she wasn’t happy to let him explore this cave at all, let alone by himself. No matter how fine he said he was -- or maybe especially because he insisted he was fine.

Mr. Campbell was the obvious choice, considering his experience, but he was still very much on probation, and if the Millers showed up for one of their surprise inspections before he got back, Gwen would be the one who’d have to explain to angry secret agents why their top prisoner had fucked off into the wilderness.

(It was actually Mr. Campbell who came up with this objection. Even though it was clearly because he’d rather sit in the Mess Hall watching TV than trudging through a dark cave, his logic was totally sound; she suspected he actually got smarter when he was trying to weasel out of something.)

QM volunteered . . . and the less said about that, the better. The short version was a unanimous “No” at varying volumes and degrees of alarm.

Which left . . . Gwen.

Awesome.

“Isn’t this exciting?” David asked, adjusting his backpack as he bounded along at her side. A ceaseless fountain of exuberance, he had a simple pattern of keeping in step with his co-counselor: skipping ahead a few feet, hopping up onto the balls of his feet once or twice to shake out a bit of excess energy, then whirling around and making a quick lap around her before falling into step for half a second, then hurrying ahead again to repeat the entire routine.

It tired her out just looking at him. “David, it’s just looking at a cave. Shine a flashlight in there, make some noise to scare out anything dumb enough to live in there, and then board the damn thing up and never think about it again.”

“I don’t know, Gwen. It looked like it might go pretty deep!” He clasped his hands at his chest, his eyes practically sparkling. “This is a real, honest-to-goodness adventure!”

“Uh-huh.” She was allergic to adventures, unless they involved shirtless human-adjacent dudes. Not that it mattered.

Of course, David was carrying all of the exploring gear Gwen expected would be absolutely useless -- first aid kit, flashlight, food, a goddamn machete of all things -- leaving her to carry the actually important tools they’d be using to close off the cave to camper access. The boards weren’t all that heavy, really, but they were extremely awkward, and anything got uncomfortable to carry when you had to bring it half a mile in the blazing-hot sunlight. Plus she was pretty sure the damn things were giving her splinters, and her fingers were cramping from the uncomfortable and unsteady grip.

David noticed exactly none of this, either due to total obliviousness or a semi-conscious decision not to. “When was the last time you’ve had a chance to explore somewhere new?”

“Uh . . . never?” Okay, so she was obsessed with urban explorer Tumblr pages, but even though her neighborhood was full of abandoned buildings ripe for discovery, Gwen’s sense of self-preservation was way too high to actually check any of them out.

“Golly, really?” He beamed at her, skipping backwards a few feet so he could maintain eye contact. “I’m so honored to be your first!”

Did she want to tell him how that sounded? She deliberated for half a second before deciding god no, she wasn’t having that conversation again; instead she bit back a laugh and mumbled some bullshit about new experiences.

His enthusiasm was like a puppy, and on a good day she thought it was pretty adorable how he could bounce along from disaster to disaster without ever letting it wear him down.

But god, when she was already on her last nerve . . .

“There we are!” He leapt over the straggly line of mossy rocks and began hacking a path through the undergrowth with his machete (which, okay, was more useful than she’d assumed).

Gwen threw down her stack of boards -- they were damp and disturbingly spongy, which was neither improving her mood or her faith in this whole dumb enterprise. Shaking out her arms to try and get rid of the “I was just holding rotten wood” feeling, she then stepped back until she was in the full glare of the sun, closing her eyes, tilting her head back, and pretending she was lying on a lounger by the world’s nicest pool. (Her happy place was essentially the Love Island villa; it had all her favorite things -- beautiful morons, lots of alcohol, functional indoor plumbing, and no kids. A bit basic, but she’d made her peace with her own boringness a while ago.)

“Gwen! Let’s go!”

And there went her happy place. She groaned, opening her eyes. David was wrestling his backpack off, trying to simultaneously dig through it and mostly flailing like an idiot.

She sighed, unbuckling the toolbelt around her waist and letting it drop onto the pile of boards. “Remind me why we can’t just block the mouth of this cave off and get on with our very busy day?” she snapped.

“Because there might be something living in there,” he said, tilting his head to the side and crossing his arms -- his bag forgotten at his feet. “We don’t want to trap it inside!”

Even Gwen had to admit she felt a little squeamish about potentially leaving some cute little furry creature to starve to death in the darkness. But that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it. “God, fine. Let’s just get this over with and --”

As she crossed the beach toward David’s makeshift path, her foot landed on a patch of slick algae; her ankle buckled and she collapsed with a yelp, her knee scraping the side of the rock as she went down.

“Fuck,” she hissed, scrambling away from the stupid rocks and assessing the damage. Nothing dire -- her ankle was a little twingey but nothing was sprained or broken, and the scratch on her knee looked worse than it was thanks to the grimey green staining her skin from the algae -- but it was just painful enough to piss her off. “Great start.” She climbed to her feet and brushed herself off. “Super fucking -- what’s the word? Auspicious? Yeah, totally auspicious omen right there.”

“Gwen?” He was watching her anxiously, either because of the blood staining her sock or because she was muttering to herself like a crazy person. He fumbled in his bag and pulled out the cookie tin that housed one of their First Aid kits. “Gee, are you okay? That looked like a rough fall!”

The last thing she needed was David squawking around her like a mother hen. And for some reason, the thought of smoothing one of their cutesy bandaids over her stupid knee and spending the rest of the day looking down at Mikey Mouse’s dumb face (the ripoff bandaids were cheaper than the real Disney ones) irritated her more than just leaving it. “It’s fine,” she said, smearing away the worst of the blood and dirt with the heel of her hand and wiping it off on her already-stained sock. “It’ll stop in a minute anyway.”

He didn’t reply, but his face was like a neon billboard most of the time, and right then it was flashing the words, “I wish you wouldn’t do that, but you’re way too scary in this mood so I’m not going to say anything.” If her cut got infected, she’d be treated to the smuggest “I told you so” in history.

But that was a risk she was willing to take, because stopping and asking him for a band-aid now would be even worse. “Are we going spelunking or what?” she asked, forcing something resembling enthusiasm into her voice. Judging by the strange, slightly horrified look he gave her, she wasn’t pulling it off well, so she dropped the front with relief. “Let’s get it over with already.”

---

The mouth of the cave reminded Gwen of the hole the White Rabbit led Alice through, in that it was small, slippery, and way longer than she’d initially thought.

And that she fell down it.

It was only about ten feet, to be fair, but it was ten feet down a steep incline lined with muck (and one exposed root that she was positive left a bruise on her butt), and the bottom was just a big mud puddle, swarming with buzzing flying bugs. And she landed ass-first into the puddle, after sliding ass-first down into the cave, and in general neither she nor her ass were having a very good expedition so far.

“Be careful,” she called up, frowning at the hole ten feet up and wondering if she could possibly climb back the way she’d come. She didn’t have the survival skills to be a mole person, she just knew it. “It’s really sli --”

“Whoa!” David breezed past her, skidding down the incline with his arms out to the side like a surfer and coming to a graceful stop a few feet away, kicking up a small wave of puddle-water that somehow didn’t get splash back onto him. He turned back to her, beaming, and untied the end of a rope from his belt. “Thanks for the warning, Gwen!” he said, and she realized the rope led back up out of the cave. “Though I wish you’d waited until after I secured the rope to come down here -- but I guess you were just too excited to get adventuring, huh?” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his face and voice.

That fucker.

“How . . .” She gestured at him; between the two of them, he should’ve been the one bleeding and covered in mud! He was the clumsiest person she’d ever met, and here he was looking like a Generic Hiking Magazine cover. “How?”

David didn’t seem to notice her question, looking around the cave with his hands on his hips. “This is even bigger than it looked from the surface,” he said admiringly, nodding to himself. “It looks like it keeps going that way! Here we go!” He took her hand and dragged her toward the back of the cave, each step sending water sloshing against her legs and soaking through her boots.

The mud made an obscene sucking sound as they walked through it, clinging to their boots like quicksand and only letting go reluctantly. It was damp and dark, the anemic yellow light of David’s flashlight flickery and unstable, darting around at a speed that made her feel kind of sick. Once she lifted her hand to brush some hair out of her face and touched something furry that was hopefully moss but probably a bat. And the ground kept sloping down, forcing them to lean back to keep their footing and creating the dizzying illusion that they were making their way deep into the center of the earth.

All in all, zero out of ten on the Camp Campbell Cave Tour, as far as she was concerned.

David, of course, was having a great time. “Isn’t this beautiful? We don’t usually get to experience nature like this, but life exists in so many different forms in the forest, even if it’s not green and sunny! It’s great to get a chance to see a new perspective, don’t you think?”

“Hnnh.” (She realized a few minutes in that he didn’t need encouragement to keep talking, and would carry on whether she was listening or not. Mostly the vaguely-affirmative noises were to make sure her voice muscles didn’t atrophy as they continued their eons-long underground journey.)

“I don’t think I’ve had a chance to explore a cave like this since Jas -- in a good long while! Not since I myself was a Camp Campbell camper.”

“Mmn.”

“You know, I sometimes wish --” He cut himself off with a gasp, the flashlight jerking in his hand before he steadied it. “Wow, a fork! That’s exciting. Which way do you want to check first?”

He had to be kidding. “‘Which way’?” she repeated, snatching the flashlight from him and angling it so they could see each other’s faces. “How about we don’t go wandering into a goddamn maze and get lost with -- oh, let me check --” She pulled her cellphone out of her damp, grimy pocket and waved it around above her head. “-- yep, no signal? Instead let’s just assume there’s nothing living here, because we’ve been walking for almost half an hour and seen literally zero signs of life, and go back to the real world, with sunshine and fresh air and a hundred percent less bat shit. Which fucking way, David? The only way that definitely won’t get us killed: the way back!”

He grinned, shaking his head; normally she thought he had a nice smile, but right then it made her skin crawl. “Now, Gwen, I don’t think you’re really embracing the Camp Campbell spirit of adventure.” He took her wrist and gently tugged her toward the fork. “How about we go left and --”

“Goddamn it, David!” She yanked her hand back, stepping out of his reach. “You’re not even listening toooaaaagh!”

The cave floor had firmed up as they walked, the mud replaced with uneven stone and stagnant pools they had to step or even jump over, and as she moved away she stepped into one of these pools, her foot gliding for half a second on the slimy edge before plunging into the water. The pool was surprisingly deep, freezing groundwater closing in up to her hip -- until she toppled over and skidded several inches down, her entire right side scraping against the rocky wall of the pool. At its deepest point the pool was too narrow for both feet, so Gwen found herself half-crouching in icy black water up to her chest, one leg touching the bottom and the other bent and braced against the wall like a flamingo; her arms were still above the water, holding onto the edge for dear life, and the splash from her fall had soaked her hair, several strands of which had escaped her ponytail and were dangling dripping in front of her face.

For a moment the only sound was her ragged breathing. Then she looked up at David, who was watching her in frozen shock, and jiggled her nearest arm as well as she could without losing her precarious balance. “A hand?”

“Oh!” He hurried over and took both her arms, hauling her out of the water like a ragdoll -- which would’ve been impressive if he hadn’t accidentally dragged her against the wall of the pool pulling her up. When she looked down, the front of her clothes were black with stringy slime. “Are you all right?”

“Peachy,” she snapped, twisting to see how badly she’d hurt herself. The entire outside of her leg was covered in slime as well, and when she wiped it away pain lanced through her like her fingertips were made of sparks. She recovered the flashlight from where it’d landed a few feet away and shone it on herself; her calf was mostly protected by her boots (which were basically ruined now), but from the knee up, her outer thigh was marked by a thick red streak of what looked like road rash, scraped bloody and raw. It stung when she extended or bent her knee, but she’d be able to walk. “Let’s just get the hell out of here and you can board this cave up while I take a nice long shower.”

He frowned. “What? But we haven’t finished exploring yet!”

She opened and shut her mouth a few times, but was struck speechless. “Come again?” she managed after a moment, her voice raspy from disbelief and exhaustion.

David gestured toward the left-hand fork. “What if I went this way and you --”

“Go back to camp? Because that’s the only thing I’m doing right now.” She turned to stomp back the way they came -- and promptly tripped over one of the buckles of her boots, which had come undone sometime between falling in the pool and being pulled out of it; she windmilled her arms desperately, but only served to smack her knuckles against the narrow cave walls before landing face-first on the ground.

She’d barely pushed herself to her knees when David chuckled. “Wow, Gwen, it really hasn’t been your lucky day, has it?”

“That’s IT!” She scrambled to her feet, ignoring the pain singing down her thigh and blooming, deep and throbbing, where her cheekbone had smacked against the floor. She whirled on him, feeling a vindictive sense of satisfaction as his eyes widened and he took a step back. “We are getting the fuck out of here before anything else goes wrong. No, no -- you know what?” she snapped, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to argue, “Shut the goddamn hell up, David, you’re the entire reason we’re in this stupid mess, so I hope you’ve enjoyed reliving your childhood and this stupid quarter-life crisis is completely fucking out of your system, because today is over, okay?! I’m bleeding, and cold, and wet, and I think I touched a bat earlier and any one of those should’ve been enough for us to go back because a good friend wouldn’t have been so self-absorbed to keep dragging their supposed C-B-F-L --” (she clapped for each letter, raising her voice to speak over the echoes each slap of her wet palms made bounce off the walls) “-- deeper into the pits of hell! But you didn’t notice, because you didn’t care, because you were having too damn good a time pretending to be six years old again -- but you know what? You’re a fucking adult, and you wouldn’t know how to be responsible if your fucking LIFE depended on it --”

“Gwen --” he began, eyes darting around with alarm, but she ignored him. Her throat was starting to hurt from yelling, but it felt good, too, the kind of pleasurable burn that came from a killer workout, and goddamn if her voice didn’t deserve a workout right now.

“You are the WORST camp counselor I’ve EVER seen, and the WORST friend I’ve EVER HAD, and I am SO! DONE! Dealing with your complete and utter -- childish -- stupid -- selfish -- BULLSHIT!”

The last word came out as a scream, possibly the loudest she’d ever given, tearing her vocal cords bloody and making her ears ring. As the sound ricocheted around the cave, the walls seeming to shake and groan with the force of it, she slumped her shoulders and dropped her chin, taking a full breath for the first time since before she fell in the water.

And it was a good thing she took that breath, because she had exactly one second before David lunged forward, grabbing her hand with a shout and yanking her toward him.

“Gwen!”

There was a massive crack, and then the sky fell down around them.

---

For a few minutes all she could do was curl up on the ground and cough, the air so thick with dust it felt like a pillow filled with ashes pressed against her face. When it had settled enough that she could inhale without choking, she pushed herself to her knees, ignoring the way both of them shrieked in pain from her half-dozen various falls, and tried to look around.

“David?” she said, rubbing dust out of her eyelashes and tearing up from the sting. The flashlight had gone out, and she was in complete darkness. “David?!”

“Over here.” His voice came from her left, faint and trembling. “The flashlight isn’t working.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” She crawled over in his direction, sucking in pained breaths with each movement. “Are you okay?”

There was a slight rustling, very close. “I think I dinged my wrist a little bit,” he said, a weak echo of his usual brightness but still a valiant effort, “but otherwise no worse for the wear!”

Her hand hit canvas, and after a few seconds of sightless probing she realized it was his backpack. “Is there a spare flashlight in here?” she asked, already fumbling with the zipper.

“Front pocket. No -- that’s my front. When I’m wearing it. It’s actually the back pocket.”

Eventually she found it, and the sudden brilliance was almost painful. The first thing the light fell on was their path back.

Or more specifically, not their path back. “Oh my god.”

The way they’d come was completely caved in.

She flicked her light all over the wall of boulders, trying to see a crack that might be a way out, but there was nothing. “Oh no, oh god -- no, no, no . . .”

“Gwen,” David said softly.

She tossed the flashlight to the ground and drew her knees to her chest, putting her head between them and trying to breathe. “Oh my god, we’re gonna die here. We’re trapped and we’re gonna die and it’s my fault, I always thought I’d kill myself but never on accident -- ”

“Gwen,” he snapped, louder and stern like she was a disobedient camper. “That’s not funny.”

She lifted her head to stare at him incredulously, because of course it wasn’t funny, nothing was funny because they were dying. But her eyes landed on his wrist, cradled against his chest with his other arm. It was purplish-brown almost all the way down to his elbow, and starting to swell badly enough that he couldn’t bend it. “Oh my god, David!”

“It’s fine,” he said defensively, pulling it closer and then letting out a little shriek of pain. “I landed on it funny, that’s all.”

“We’ve gotta wrap that up.” She grabbed the flashlight and dug through their backpack until she found the cookie tin, popping it open with one hand and reaching for his wrist with the other. “Here, give me --”

“No, I’m --” He tried to wriggle away, but he was sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him so his mobility was limited.

She grabbed his good arm and scooted closer, balancing the first aid tin on his lap. “Stop being stupid and hold this.”

He acquiesced with a huff, turning his face away as she wrapped the sprain. The only splints they had were for fingers, but she taped a few together and declared it good enough, at least for starving to death in a cave. “I wish we had some ice,” she said once it was done, popping out a couple painkillers and holding them out to him. “Can you swallow these dry?”

“There’s water in the middle pocket,” he said, still not looking at her, and she handed him the water bottle and the pills. After an uncomfortable moment of silence he added, “How’s your leg?”

She shrugged, suddenly tired. “Does it matter?” She pulled out her phone to check again for a signal, but apparently it’d had just as bad a day as her because it was completely dead. Hopefully David would let her look up how to undo water, mud, and impact damage on his phone when they got back to camp. Slumping down next to him with a sigh, she tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and prepared for the sweet release of death.

The sweet release of death was interrupted by a loud metal clattering, and she opened her eyes to see David scooching on his knees to her other side, then trying to pry open the first aid kit one-handed.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to be a good friend,” he muttered, jumping as the lid suddenly popped open. “Lay down on your side, please.”

Gwen lowered herself to the ground, shivering as the cold stone pressed her wet clothes against her skin. A moment later there was a soft thump as he draped a sweatshirt over her like a blanket. “Thanks.” His only response was a quiet huff, the fingers of his good hand deftly cleaning her wounds, and all of the anger building up that day collapsed in on itself. “I’m sorry I said all that stuff.”

He shrugged, and she couldn’t tell if he was deliberately avoiding eye contact or if he was just intently focused on patching her up. (It was more her area of expertise, thanks to half a nursing degree she’d acquired in 2014. Plus he only had 50% of his usual hands.) “Why? You meant it.”

“Hey, take the apology and don’t be a brat about it.” Which was probably the worst way to conclude an apology, but she figured she deserved extra leeway on the grounds that she was buried alive.

Sighing, he sat back on his heels and snagged the gauze. “You’re right, Gwen,” he said, winding it around her knee; she held out her hand and let him position it so he could continue wrapping up her leg. “I should’ve had us turn back sooner. I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good friend to you today.”

“I’m used to it.” He flinched and she realized how that sounded. “I mean, you’re really passionate about stuff. That’s a good thing.”

“And it always ends so well for everyone,” he replied with uncharacteristic sarcasm, gesturing to their surroundings.

She rolled her eyes and waited as he finished, sitting back up. “For what it’s worth,” she said, feeling stupid even as the words left her mouth, “I wouldn’t pick anyone else to die in a cave with.”

David frowned. “Are you saying you want me to die?”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, I changed my mind. I wanna trade you out for David Boreanaz.”

“You want to spend your last hours on earth being rejected by the guy from Buffy?”

That startled her into laughing, and she pawed at the air with a meow. “Does imminent death always make you this catty?”

“Only when my wrist hurts,” he muttered, digging through the backpack, but a little smile played at the corner of his lips.

Gwen figured if there was any time for an olive branch, this was it. “How about this: if I ever had to spend my last hours being rejected by a guy named David while we died together in a cave, I’m glad it’s you.” It seemed to take him a second to parse that sentence, but she chose to blame it on him being delirious from pain and not because she worded it badly. (She was great at wording things, and there were tens of readers on Ao3 to prove it.)

“What makes you think I’d reject you?”

He said it quickly, absently, and in the moment it took her to absorb what he said he seemed to hear it himself, looking up at her with something like horror in his expression.

“That -- I didn’t -- !”

She tried to muster up an appropriate response and came up short. “Huh?”

“I don’t know why I said that,” he said quickly, holding up his hands like she was brandishing a weapon at him. “It was a joke, I’m sorry.”

“Those two sentences don’t work together.”

“Say, did you know we have three different kinds of granola bars?” He pulled them out of the backpack and waved them like a magic trick. “Which flavor is your favorite?”

There was no way she was letting him get away with that, especially when her waterlogged brain was still struggling to connect the dots. “Were you saying you want me to hit on you?”

“I think I like peanut butter best, but it sure does make you thirsty so it’s not good unless you have something to drink with it!”

“David.” She leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze (and nearly getting hit in the nose with a granola bar as he inelegantly threw it toward her).

“I do enjoy mixed berry, though . . .”

She didn’t know what to do, so she relied on a trope all her favorite romances used and pulled him into a kiss. He squeaked against her mouth, going still and unyielding, but after a moment his mouth softened against hers -- not really kissing her back, but enough of a relaxation to send a shiver through her.

When she pulled back he was staring at her with big eyes, deathly pale and streaked with dust and sweat. (And really, she should’ve known she was screwed every single time he looked like total shit and she was still attracted to him.) “W-hy did you do that?” he asked, his voice wobbling like he was going to cry.

She shrugged, trying not to look like her heart had just dropped into her stomach from that heartbreaking little wobble. “Maybe because I felt like seizing the day, if this is gonna be one of the last ones I get,” she said as lightly as possible. “Or maybe it’s because I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I realized and finally got the balls to go for it.”

(It was the second one, but she didn’t wanna make it too easy for him.)

He swallowed hard, looking down at the ground before hesitatingly, flinchingly meeting her eyes. “But you were so mad at me,” he said, then gestured toward her leg with his good hand. “And I’m the reason you’re hurt. Why would you want . . .”

“I got you back,” Gwen replied. “And then some, so I think we’re pretty even.” He just stared at her, doubt etched into every line of his face, and she wanted to kiss him so she did. And this time he sighed, a little dreamy one she’d never heard before instead of his usual “I’m irritated but trying very hard not to show it” sigh, and forgiving him was instantly, impossibly easy. “But seriously,” she said, pulling away just enough to talk, “you’re gonna have to do some serious groveling if we get out of this alive.”

David’s smile caught the light, warm and sparkling like his eyes. “I can do that!”

“You were a dick today.”

He pressed his lips together, looking torn between smiling and giving her a disapproving frown. “I wasn’t as considerate as I should’ve been.”

“Close enough.” She started to stand up -- might as well make an effort to survive; her monkey ancestors were probably watching her and yelling -- but he put his hand on her arm.

“I really am sorry, Gwen.” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying it absently as he looked away from her. “I don’t want to be that kind of person. And I don’t want you to have to spend time with that kind of person. So I’ll do my best to be more . . . thoughtful. And observant. Of your needs.”

Less of a dick, you mean. He didn’t quite stick the landing, but it was still one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to her -- in no small part because she could count on one hand the number of times David had willingly admitted being wrong about something. “I’ll hold you to it,” she said, covering his fingers with her own. “Every time you’re a dick I won’t kiss you, how’s that sound?”

“And when I’m not . . . um, so unpleasant to be around?”

There was only one way to answer that, so she did. “How do you feel about cave sex?” she asked as she broke the kiss, enjoying the way he jumped like she’d poked him with a cattle prod. “Because if my last time is faking an orgasm in the bathroom of a Chipotle -- that’s depressing even for me.”

David climbed to his feet, holding out his hand to help her up. “It’s not going to be,” he said, the sudden bright determination in his voice jarring in their little rock prison. Just as she was trying to figure out how she felt about having injured cave sex with Camp Counselor David at his most camp-counselor-est (surprisingly okay with it), he added, “We’re getting out of here.”

---

It took three hours to find another way out of the cave, according to David’s phone. That was too damn long for Gwen and her abused legs, but he cheerfully reminded her how fortunate they were not to have to stay in there overnight, as well as to have emerged in a part of the forest he recognized, and that things could’ve been much worse if they’d taken the right fork instead of the left.

(He was very proud of himself for having picked the correct path on the first try. He insisted it had to do with wind currents and the slope of the cave floor, but she thought it was just a lucky guess.)

“Thank god,” Gwen said as they approached the shore of Lake Lilac. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see a pile of crappy boards in my entire life.”

David was already heading down the beach when he realized she wasn’t beside him and turned back. “What’re you doing?” he asked, watching her bend down and loop the toolbelt around her waist.

“You go ahead,” she replied, grunting as she hoisted a board across the mouth of the cave. “I plan on never coming back here for the rest of my life, and there’s no way in hell I’m risking any of our brats getting stuck in the hell-cave.”

He returned anyway, and there wasn’t much he could do with only one arm but he helped her as best as he could. And those quiet minutes of everyday, boring camp-counselor duties convinced Gwen that this -- whatever this was -- it was worth trying to make work.

“You do know we’ll have to block off the other entrance, right?”

She groaned. “Die in a fire, David.” He laughed as she grabbed the remaining boards and followed him to where they’d escaped the cave, and he made her laugh as she nailed the boards in place, and as they walked back to camp he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and it was nicer than anything Gwen could remember in a while.