#i'm very proud of this title it took me a long time to come up with it

[fqirysim]

untitled--

genre(s): angst, some fluff at the end, exes to best friends to lovers, highschool au, lowercase intended, lots of pov changes

requested: nope !

pairing(s): yang jungwon x reader, ft. yuna (itzy), and intak (p1h)

word count: 7.2k (my longest fic yet ! ) 

warning(s): cursing, underage drinking, a tiny bit of infidelity 

synopsis: you had been in love with yang jungwon since the day you met him. 

note: lowercase is intended, lots of pov changes! (read carefully so you don’t get confused lol). this took me a year to make PLEASE don't judge too harshly i put my heart and soul into this 😭. took me a year to make but could not come up with a title for the life of me, hence why it is called untitled, silly silly me. this was really fun to make though and although it took me a while to make, i'm very proud of it. lmk if you want to be added to my taglist and i will gladly do so !! special thanks to my bestie abby and my bf dean for proofreading love you both <3333

—------

you were certain this was the end of your friendship with jungwon. again. but this time you knew it would be permanent.

he was the boy who lived next door. growing up, you had always admired him from afar. the class president who everyone, including the upperclassmen, seemed to get along with.  

you had liked him until freshman year, when you got tired of pining over someone who didn’t seem to hold any interest in you. as comical as it seems, that was around the time that he had started to take an interest in you. 

and so he courted you, bringing you your favorite drink, walking you home, even coming over for dinner and hanging out at your house. this helped blossom a friendship that no one saw coming, and it wasn’t long until people started to wonder if you two were an item. 

it took two months for jungwon to muster up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. 

you were sure you were over your crush on him, that it was just a silly childhood crush. but as you hung out with him more and more, you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again. of course you said yes, because who wouldn’t say yes to the pretty starry-eyed boy standing before you?

jungwon was a nice boyfriend; going on dates quite often, never fought, and he would buy you flowers without being asked.. maybe the latter was why the whirlwind relationship only lasted five months. 

you remember the day so vividly, sitting on the bench at your favorite park; the same park where jungwon had asked you to be his, and here he was, asking you to break up.

 it seemed poetic in a kind of way, starting as his, and leaving as no one’s.

“i’m sorry. i’ve just lost romantic feelings,” jungwon stated, staring down at the grass as a breeze of wind came, the blades of grass swaying slightly. “it’s just that we’ve both been so busy with other things, and i guess we kinda just like, drifted apart because of it.”

“yeah, i think so too,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the slight sting in your heart. 

his head snapped up, your eyes finally meeting his, “wait, actually? you’re not lying?” the sound of relief in his voice made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.

“do you want to get rid of me that bad?” you instead teased with a grin. 

“no!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. “i still wanna be friends with you. i might not like you romantically anymore, but i don’t wanna like, lose the friendship we have, you know?”

“yeah,” you replied, “we can still be friends.”

and you two meant it. there were no tears, and no broken hearts (that you would like to admit). it was just a simple case of the right person and the wrong time, and as the years continued, you tried to convince yourself that it was just nothing. that jungwon was not your “right” anything- he was just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. 

you were almost successful. until your last year of high school approached. 

you and jungwon kept your word, you stayed friends. always being seen together; walking to class, walking home, studying in the library, eating lunch in the cafeteria. 

people still believed you were together, and you always had to correct them, because no you and jungwon were no longer together and no you were not a thing.

they never believed you, though. 

there was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes when someone would ask. that you and jungwon were a thing and that he was yours and you were his. but you never did, callingyourself crazy for even thinking of doing so. 

you found yourself doing it again as yuna had asked you earlier in the week. 

yuna was the new girl this year, having transferred from jyp high. from what you heard, she was nice, smart, and she was gorgeous. you were never one to put yourself down, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel insecure standing next to her. 

“no, jungwon and i are not dating,” you smiled politely. it was almost like a script at this point. “we’re just good friends.”

“that’s good to hear,” yuna smiled, her eyes sparkling. “i just wanted to ask him out, but i wasn’t going to if you had a thing!”

“oh, you’re thinking of confessing to him?” you questioned. there was that little part of you again. the part that always said no! tell them you’re a thing! tell them to not do it!

“yeah, he’s in a bunch of my classes. he’s super smart and polite and he always knows how to make me laugh. and he has such pretty eyes,” she sighed dreamily as her mouth formed into a lovesick smile. 

“well, he has that effect on people,” you grinned. 

i would know, you thought.

 “i say go for it! he’s not particularly interested in anyone, you have a good chance.”

“you really think so?” she asked, eyes wide. 

god, i hope not, you thought. as shitty as it was, you didn’t want jungwon to move on. you felt sick at the thought of him being with someone else. 

“why not?” you said instead. “he’ll be at the library after school today studying, i’m supposed to meet him, but i can just tell him something came up.” 

“oh my god, you’re the best!” she squealed, engulfing you in a hug. “thank you thank you thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her, ignoring the green monster growing within you.

—----

it had been four days since your conversation with yuna. every time you saw him, you waited for him to bring up the date with baited breath- but he hadn’t said anything. not yet at least.

or maybe yuna simply didn’t ask him on a date. that’s what you were secretly hoping, at least.

it seemed hoping wasn’t enough. on the fifth day jungwon approached you from down the hall with those twinkling eyes and a bright smile you love so much, he seemed more energetic than usual with a little hop in his step. 

“you’re not gonna believe what happened today!” he exclaimed as he reached you at your locker. 

you could believe it. you were the one who hooked yuna up after all. yet you feigned curiosity as you looked at him quizzically, “what is it?”

“yuna asked me on a date! me! of all people! she’s so cool and smart and nice and pretty,” he said with a dreamy look on his face. 

you knew that look. the far away gaze as he thought of her. it was one you would never forget. it’s how he used to look at you. that lovesick grin and those twinkling eyes.

 it had never bothered you before when jungwon had crushes on other girls, because well, that’s all they were. they never escalated into anything more. looking at his lovestruck expression, realization hit that jungwon wasn’t yours anymore. 

you shouldn’t have thought of it that way. you should be happy for him! you should’ve been celebrating with him and cheering him on!  

you couldn’t help the bittersweet smile on your face as you replied, “oh, well that’s nice.”

his smile faltered slightly at your expression, concern slowly forming on his face.  

“are you okay?” he asked. 

“i’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, regaining your composure. “i’m happy for you! and don’t worry about spending less time with me, you’re gonna be a busy guy now! with a girlfriend…”

“okay, she is not my girlfriend. and even if she was, I would never ditch you!” 

“yeah whatever you say, loverboy,” you joked, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder. 

“no seriously, y/n,” he replied, softly. “are you okay with yuna and i being a thing? i just don’t want it to be weird because you and i used to be a thing, and i know we’re both over that but i just wanted to make sure-,”

“what, me?” you scoffed, cutting the boy off. “what you and i had wasn’t serious, it was just some dumb high school fling.”

even as you spoke those words, you knew they weren’t true. it was more than just a fling. you loved him and maybe you still did. 

silence hung between you, the hallway getting quieter as the remaining students scrambled to their classes, the late bell ringing, leaving you and jungwon in the hallway alone. 

he looked hurt at what you said. you immediately wanted to take it back, to say you didn’t mean it and that he was your first love and you didn’t want him going on that date with yuna. 

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that,” you muttered, not being able to meet his eyes and instead turning to close your locker. 

“no, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he replied, as he started to back away, making his way to his class down the hall. “you’re right, it was just a fling, and honestly, it’s so weird to think of us as a couple.” 

it was like your world was falling apart around you as he spoke. did you interpret his hurt expression wrong? maybe this all was one-sided. did he not feel his heart breaking like you did? did he not wonder occasionally (or everyday) how his life would be if you were still together? did he not miss what you had?

maybe there really was nothing between you and jungwon but friendship. 

“yeah, so weird,” you awkwardly smiled, walking to catch up with him. “but you and i, we’re good, right?”

“yep, no worries,” he grinned back. 

“good,” you smiled. “so when’s your date?” 

his eyes brightened ever so slightly as you asked. he started to describe his date– how he was going to take her to the beach and have a picnic and play in the sand. 

you nodded along, your mind wandering off to when jungwon would take you on beach dates, burying him in the sand, splashing him with water and swimming away before he could splash you back. 

you looked over at the boy in question, his starry eyes wide as he talked about his date plans, his smile wide and giddy, his tone as sweet as honey as he talked about her. 

you knew you shouldn’t villainize yuna– she was a nice girl, a very nice one. it wasn’t her fault you were still in love with jungwon, and it surely wasn’t her fault that she liked him. it’s not like you could choose who you could fall in love with. 

you of all people would know. 

so you smiled and nodded along as you walked him to class, listening to him go on and on about his plans. you finally settled with the fact then and there, that jungwon would never be yours again. you had to let go. 

—--------

it has been six months since that day. the day that you had decided to give up. yuna and jungwon have been inseparable since then. 

he kept to his word though; still studying with you after school, showing up when you needed him, hanging out together. sometimes yuna would tag along, which you didn’t mind. she was fun to be around. 

you also didn’t mind being the third wheel when she was around, instead teasing the couple and even offering to take pictures for them. they were a lovely couple and they were seemingly happy– jungwon especially, and that was all that mattered. 

the school year was coming to an end, and seeing as it was your senior year, people were throwing parties almost every weekend. 

you went every once in a while, had some fun, did some underage drinking, even flirted with a couple of people. 

tonight was the party though. 

intak was throwing his first party of the year, and everyone knew his parties were legendary. 

you sat in the uber with jungwon and yuna, anticipating the night before you. you were excited, to say the least. the last time you went to a party was a  month ago, and you were ready to have fun. you even put on your best party outfit for tonight!

you arrived at intak’s house (or more like a mansion), and started to make your way inside until jungwon stopped you. 

“wait! before we go in, i think we should go over some basic safety rules!” jungwon exclaimed. 

you rolled your eyes with a small laugh as you replied, “only you would go over safety rules at a party.” 

“i’m serious, y/n, really bad things could happen,” he shot back with a pointed expression. 

“okay wonie, go ahead, we’re all ears,” yuna smiled supportively.

you ignored the slight heart ache at yuna using your old nickname for jungwon- the one you used when you were together. 

get it together, y/n you thought. letting go, remember?  

you instead smiled and nodded reassuringly at jungwon, who looked over at you to make sure you were paying attention. 

he sighed before continuing, “okay, i won’t be doing any drinking so i can babysit you guys all night. if you need to use the bathroom give your drinks to me so i can watch them. and y/n, if you leave the party at any point, for any reason, please let me know first.”

“sir, yes sir,” you muttered. 

“now let’s go have some fun!” yuna exclaimed, dragging the both of you by the wrists. 

you finally entered the house, where there seemed to be everyone from your school. even kids who graduated last year were in attendance, and as you searched the party for a familiar face that wasn’t jungwon or yuna, intak strolled over, a wide smile on his face. 

“you guys made it!” he shouted over the loud thumping of the music. he was wearing a letterman jacket with a white shirt underneath, and a pair of baggy straight legged jeans. the outfit looked so good on him that you had almost forgotten that you were talking to intak of all people. 

“you look nice, y/n,” he grinned.

you would’ve had a crush on him if he didn’t flirt with every girl he laid eyes on, and it seemed like his victim of the night was you. but damn did he look good right now. 

intak wasn’t a bad guy, he seemed harmless, not like the guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. he just always flirted, with no intentions of making anything serious. most of the girls he talked to never knew the latter though. 

but you thought it couldn’t hurt, you were here to have fun, and if flirting with intak was the way to do it, then so be it. 

you saw jungwon step forward, about to tell intak to back off and go flirt with someone else, causing you to put your hand on his arm to stop him. 

you also noticed how yuna examined the scene in front of her; jungwon trying to be your knight in shining armor, and you with your hand on his arm to stop him. her eyes narrowed slightly in thought as you dropped your hand and turned to intak. 

“why don’t you get me a drink and then we can talk?” you smiled dazzlingly. you usually reserved smiles like that for when you wanted to flirt and get wasted, and just as usual, it worked like a charm.

“i’ll be right back then,” intak smiled, before making his way through the crowd of bodies in search of a drink for you. 

“really, y/n, intak out of all people?” jungwon questioned, arms crossed. 

“yeah, and what about it?” you replied, feeling slightly annoyed at his tone of voice. he had never acted this way towards you before, but you didn’t like it. it wasn’t his business who you flirted with. he talked to you like you were an idiot and you hated the thought of him looking down on you.  

yuna awkwardly stood between the two of you, not wanting to be in the middle of your fight, but not wanting to go off by herself at a party filled with people she barely knew. 

“‘what about it?’” jungwon mocked your voice in a high pitched tone. “you know how he is, don’t be dumb.”

“dumb? i’m here to have fun, jungwon, not to play third wheel again,” you snapped back. “and why does it matter, you’re not my boyfriend, and you’re not my brother, so it’s really none of your fucking business.”

yuna had been looking back and forth between you and jungwon, watching as you glared at each other, waiting for someone to say something. it was like watching a tennis match. 

at that moment, intak arrived, back with a red solo cup in hand. 

“a drink for the prettiest girl here,” he announced, handing the cup over to you. 

“why thank you love,” you replied with an innocent smile as you looked over at jungwon, still glaring at you, his arms crossed against his chest.

ignoring him, you took a sip of the drink you were given, your face scrunching up at the bitter taste. 

“hey intak, why don’t we go dance?” you asked, reaching for his hand. 

“that sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile of his own before you led him to the dance floor, leaving an enraged jungwon, and a slightly annoyed yuna behind you.

—-----

yuna had seen the way jungwon looked at you. she might have been a bit oblivious at first, but as time went on and she spent more time with the two of you, it became more and more apparent– jungwon had never gotten over you. 

at first yuna thought she could sway him, to get him to fall for her the way he fell for you. but it never worked. he looked at you like you were his own personal angel. no matter where you were, who you were with, how you looked, he was absolutely enraptured by you, and oh, how yuna wished he looked at her like that. 

it had been fifty minutes since your small tussle, and yuna and jungwon sat outside, occupying two pool chairs as he angrily took sips of his water. 

“it’s like she doesn’t even care, she just ran off with him knowing he’ll never want anything serious, knowing he’s gonna lead her on, and i swear when she comes crying to me, i’m gonna tell her ‘i told you’ right to her stupid dumb face,” he rambled, placing his bottle of water harder on the table than he intended to, spilling droplets in the process. 

“well, she’s young and single, and she just wants to have fun baby, there’s nothing wrong with that,” yuna replied. “and she has a point, you’re not her brother or anything, so why do you care so much?”

jungwon  looked up at yuna, not being able to ignore the bitter tone in her voice, “wait, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“i’m not on anyone’s side, i’m just asking as your girlfriend why you care so much. because honestly, if i didn’t know any better, i would think that you were still in love with her,” yuna sighed, exasperated. 

“i am not in love with her, i like you!” he exclaimed, way faster than he should have. 

yuna wanted to believe him. she wanted to ignore every bit of doubt in her body and believe every lie he fed to her, but she couldn’t. not when she knew you loved him too. it was heartbreaking, really. to watch the person you love pine over someone else. but it was even worse knowing the feelings were reciprocated. 

“don’t lie to me, jungwon,” she deadpanned, feeling her eyes start to water with tears of frustration. “i see the way you look at her, and i know for sure you haven’t gotten over her. you have never once looked at me the way you look at her, and if you like her, just say that. just say that and we can end things here, without having to make this any more heartbreaking than it already is.”

yuna didn’t want to cry. the last thing she wanted to do was cry, but the feelings of anger and embarrassment had overwhelmed her, causing a few traitorous tears to spill. she was angry at herself for letting it get this far, for falling in love with a boy that she knew would never love her back. 

but she was also embarrassed. embarrassed that she had even tried to make an effort, that she had thought she could win him over. 

she wiped her face with the back of her hand, only for more to spill out, a sob fighting for an escape from her quivering lips. 

jungwon raised his hand to wipe the tears away for her, to cup her face and tell her everything would be okay and that he was sorry. but what was he sorry for? sorry for trying to keep you away from intak? or sorry that maybe yuna was right and he did still love you?

just as he opened his mouth to speak, you stumbled out, words slurring and barely able to walk as you stumbled your way over to them. 

“hey guys!” you exclaimed, as a worried intak came rushing out the house behind you. 

“oh god, y/n, are you okay?” jungwon asked, immediately walking over to your side to support your stumbling figure. yuna would have felt bitter over jungwon rushing to your side faster than he had ever run to hers. yet, despite the devil on her shoulder that told her to be petty, she instead felt worried for you. you could barely even stand up straight.

“what the fuck did you do to her?” jungwon asked, throwing an accusatory look at intak.

“nothing dude, i promise! she was the one who wanted to drink, she had like 5 drinks within the span of like, 10 minutes,” intak replied, panicked. “is she going to be okay? does she have a way to get home safely?”

jungwon looked from yuna to you, who was falling asleep just standing there.

“just take her home,” yuna sighed. “i’m not gonna make you choose because we all know who you’d choose every single time.”

“yuna it’s not like that,” jungwon groaned. “listen, i’ll bring her home, and then i’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk this out, okay? i promise.”

“okay, just get her home safe first,” yuna replied. 

you might have been the biggest obstacle in her relationship, but you were still a nice girl, and you had technically done nothing wrong, so yuna had no reason to want to keep you and jungwon apart. you were also wasted as fuck and there was no way you would be able to get home by yourself without something horrible potentially happen to you. 

jungwon grabbed his almost full water bottle from the table he was sitting at, muttering that he would “need it to sober you up”.

he gave yuna one last reassuring smile before he walked away, you on his back as he tried his best to carry you home. 

yuna sighed as she watched you go. she felt like something bad would happen today, something worse than her argument with jungwon, and she wanted nothing else but to go home and cry. 

all she could do was trust jungwon, even if she knew she already lost him, even if she knew she was never a contestant in the first place.

—------

jungwon almost did it. 

he almost carried you all the way home, but his legs felt like they were gonna give out once he reached the park near your house, and he decided then and there that he needed a break. 

he sat you on the playground set, sitting beside you with a huff. 

you were awake by this point, taking long sips of the water bottle jungwon had given you. you wanted to sober up by the time you got home, but it wasn’t really working, with your words still slurring slightly and your mind all dizzy.

the two of you sat in silence as you gazed at the stars and jungwon thought of his argument with yuna. 

maybe she was right. 

even now, as he glanced over at you, studying the stars, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his face warm up. 

“do you remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend in this park?” you chuckled. “we were so young then, it feels like forever ago.”

jungwon was thrown off by the sudden conversation starter, but still smiled, “yeah, i remember it very well. i felt like i was gonna throw up because i was so nervous.”

you turned your head to look at him and giggled as his smile grew wider. 

“what, what are you laughing at?” 

“nothing, i was just so in love with you then. i used to think that we would be together forever and ride off into the sunset in a carriage.” 

jungwon inspected you as you talked, trying to decipher if there was any meaning behind your words or if it was just the liquor talking. 

“i just thought we were some high school fling?” he half-joked as he nudged you with his shoulder. he didn’t want it to seem like he was serious if you were sobering up. 

he felt his heart start to race as he stared at your slightly flushed face from the drinks you had, your hair fluttering as a soft breeze blew by. you were everything that jungwon had ever wanted, and here you were, telling him how much you used to love him. 

wait, no, what the hell am i doing? jungwon thought to himself. it wasn’t fair to yuna. it was already unfair to her that he only started to date her to get over you. he thought that if he dated her long enough, he would stop loving you and love her instead. 

and he genuinely thought it worked. fuck, he thought. i’m such a shitty person. 

until he saw you with intak, flirting, dancing with him, laughing at his jokes, he had never felt so jealous in his life, and yuna had noticed. and she was upset, which was fair. what wasn’t fair was jungwon using her to get over you. 

use. he hated the icky feeling that word gave him. 

“i lied,” you muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“what did you say?” jungwon asked, making sure that he had heard you right. 

“i lied,” you repeated, eyes on everything but him. “i loved you, and i think i still do.” 

your eyes finally met his as you continued, “you are everything to me, jungwon. i’ve been in love with you since forever, and i only agreed to break up because you said you wanted to.”

jungwon could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he searched your eyes for any hesitation, any sign that this was a lie, or some sort of joke. his heart beat so fast he felt like he was gonna explode as he looked into your eyes, so earnest and so genuine and so filled with love that he knew you had sobered up. 

you reached for his hands in his lap, interlacing your fingers with his. 

“i can’t keep this from you,” you breathed. “i love you, yang jungwon, and i know you’re dating yuna, but i just have to tell you that i love you, that i always have and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i don’t expect you to leave her for me or anything, but i can’t help it anymore. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

silence hung over the two of you as he tried to form a coherent sentence after your confession. it felt like suddenly his brain didn’t know how to make him talk, to make him say i love you too, or to make him do anything, really. 

a minute passed, and then two as jungwon searched your eyes with the same desperation yours had– desperate to love and to be loved by the person sitting in front of you. 

jungwon didn’t know who leaned closer first. he thought it was you but maybe it was him. he didn’t even feel like he was in control of his body as he leaned closer and closer, his hand moving to hold your face, searching your face for any hesitation, for any kind of doubt.

 you were so close that he could smell the perfume you sprayed before you left your house and the drinks that you had earlier that night. 

impatient, jungwon finally closed the gap between the two of you, your soft lips colliding with his. he could have kissed you forever, wanting to stay forever in time there. until realization hit him.

yuna.

he pulled away abruptly, your eyes still closed as you chased his lips with yours. he would have found it cute if he weren’t trying his best not to panic right now. he just kissed you. while he was still dating yuna. 

he thought of the look on yuna’s face if she found out– the angry, hurt expression that she had at the party, and even worse, the tears. he would break the poor girl’s heart. 

“i should go,” jungwon breathed, quickly standing up from his seat beside you. “it’s almost past my curfew.”

“wait, jungwon,” you said, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt before he could walk away. “i think we should talk about this before you go.”

“yeah, we can talk later,” he replied dismissively. “i just need some time to think.”

you opened your mouth to say something else– anything else to make him stay, but closed it as you saw he was already speed-walking in the direction of his house. 

you thought that you would lose him forever after your breakup.  you had almost lost jungwon once, and you were nearly positive that you won’t be so lucky to keep him this time. 

you felt sick to your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was from the drinks or from the events that had just occurred, but nonetheless you felt nauseous. 

you hunched over as you started to gag, your vomit flowing out of your mouth, tears streaming down your face. 

you wiped your mouth with your sleeve, rinsing your mouth out with water as you started to tear up. 

before you knew it, you felt sobs rising, your nose stuffed from crying,  your throat getting dry from the sobbing. the embarrassment and sorrow was finally catching up to you– all of the years of repressed love you felt for jungwon, all of the embarrassment from him leaving after you confessed, embarrassment from being a homewrecker– it all came crashing down on you. 

you couldn’t go home like this. you were sober enough to know that, with your tear streaked face, ruined makeup, and vomit smelling breath your parents would put two and two together. 

your hands shakily reached for your phone in your back pocket, dialing your brother’s number and waiting for him to pick up with baited breath. your brother was your only hope. 

“hello?” 

“chan?” you breathed into the phone. “i need to sleepover at your place.”

—----

yuna hated this. 

the waiting, the feeling of dread as she sat on her bed, awaiting jungwon’s arrival. 

the fight that had ensued was horrible, but she believed she made a valid point. if he likes y/n so much he should just go be with her, she thought bitterly. 

jungwon had texted her last night at around 1 in the morning, just to make sure she got home safe. yuna didn’t respond. she instead left him on read, still pissed off from the fight.

she used to get butterflies when he would send her texts to make sure she got home safe. but now she didn’t know if he did it because he liked her or if it was just out of common courtesy. 

yuna was about to just walk to his house herself before she heard a knock on her door. 

“hey it’s uh, me,” she heard jungwon’s muffled voice through the door. “is it okay if i come in?” 

“yeah, let’s get this over with.”

she couldn’t meet his eyes as he walked in, striding over to the corner of her bed. yuna hated waiting, but she now felt dread as the pair sat in silence for a bit, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. she had sat nowhere near him.

 usually she’d be cuddled into his side, but she instead opted to sit at the head of her bed, seemingly as far away from him as possible. she was worried that if she was too close to him, she’d crack; she’d look at his doe eyes and forgive him and that would ruin the entire point of her argument. 

“so,” she cleared her throat, interrupting the silence. “did y/n get home safe?” 

“yeah, she’s at her brother’s apartment. he texted me when she got there.”

 “‘when she got there?’ did you not walk her there?” 

“no, he picked her up from the park near our houses. but anyways, i have something important to tell you.” 

yuna felt even more dread seeping into her as he finished his sentence. she should’ve seen this coming from the start. here it comes: the breakup. 

“i kissed y/n last night.” 

yuna’s eyes widened in surprise. she had expected the breakup, yes. she knew jungwon was emotionally cheating, but now he was physically cheating? 

“wait, are you being serious right now?” she laughed in astonishment. she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man sitting in front of her. 

“i know it’s bad. i feel horrible, because an amazing woman like you should never be treated as horrible as i’ve treated you, and i am so so sorry,” jungwon started, tearing up from how bad he felt. “all of the apologies in the world could never make up for how i’ve treated you. i’ve made you feel terrible and i’m just making it worse by breaking up with you to be with her.” 

“i love y/n, yuna. and i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, or that you had to find out for yourself before i even knew. you are so so perfect yuna-,”

“but i’m just not perfect for you?” she replied, tears starting to form as she breathed those words. 

the silence that followed was more than enough to answer her question. 

she hated this. she hated this so so much. but she didn’t hate you, or jungwon. she just hated how love worked, how she had to fall in love with the one boy who couldn’t love her back. she hated that she gave her heart away to a boy that was never going to belong to her– not fully. 

she wanted to scream, to throw something, hell, maybe even hit him. she instead took a deep breath, composing herself before she said, “okay. go be with her then.” 

jungwon looked over at her, wanting nothing but to comfort yuna. he may not be in love with her, but he did love her, and he still cared for her. 

“i’m sorry, yuna,” jungwon said instead. “you’re an amazing girl, but you should never be anyone’s second choice, and i’m sorry for making you feel like mine.” 

yuna couldn’t even look at him, fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she wore. 

“just leave, please,” she muttered. 

she didn’t want him to see her cry, he had already broken her once, she didn’t want him to see her fall apart again. 

with a guilty expression, jungwon hurried away, also not wanting to see her cry again. he felt gross. he felt disgusted with himself for treating her that way. he didn’t like the person he was with yuna, and he felt sick thinking about how heartbroken she was; how she was so hurt that she couldn’t even look at him. 

—------

it has been two weeks since your kiss with jungwon, and you hadn’t heard a word from him since. not a single call or text, hell, he didn’t even acknowledge your existence when you walked by him in the halls. 

you had seen yuna around, but seeing as jungwon wasn’t joined at her hip like he used to be, you assumed that things didn’t end quite so well between the two. knowing that you were the cause made you want to never show your face ever again, especially because of the dirty looks yuna’s friends have been giving you. 

you were relieved it was the last day of the school year; you’d never have to see yuna again and feel the guilt at seeing the sadness in her eyes. 

you walked into the bathroom, wanting to wash your hands after eating your lunch, when you saw yuna, touching up on her makeup in the mirror. she looked at you through the mirror above the sink, before going back to her makeup. 

the tension was so thick you didn’t know if you should just leave or hide in a bathroom stall until she left. 

“i’m not gonna bite, you know,” yuna chuckled. 

you smiled back nervously as you started to make your way to the sink. 

“yuna i’m really sorry,” you sighed, mustering whatever courage and dignity you had left. 

“it’s okay,” yuna replied, finally meeting your gaze. “although it was wrong for you guys to have kissed, i saw the breakup coming from miles away. he was never mine to begin with.” 

you were taken aback just by how calm she was, with the way she spoke those words with such elegance and grace. she had every right to be angry with you, to yell at you and call you a homewrecker. 

“even if you did think you were going to break up, that still doesn’t excuse what i did, and i really am sorry,” you said, trying to project every feeling of sympathy and sincerity you could in that one sentence. “i’m not asking you to forgive me, or jungwon, but i just wanted to tell you that you really are a cool person, and you’ve always been so kind to me, even now. all of this for a boy, and he hasn’t even talked to me in the past two weeks.”

“wait, he hasn’t reached out to you at all?” yuna asked, confused. “i thought he would say something to you at least.” 

“did he say he would?” you replied, confusion reaching you as well. 

“no,” yuna replied, fixing her hair in the mirror. “i just assumed so because he’s in love with you.”

once again, you were stunned by her nonchalance. “he’s not in love with me.” 

“don’t be silly,” yuna smiled softly. “i can’t tell if dating jungwon was the best or worst six months of my life, to be honest.” 

“don’t get me wrong, he was a good boyfriend,” yuna backtracked quickly after seeing the guilt on your face. “he did the usual boyfriend stuff, and he really did try, but i could just always tell that his heart was always yours.” 

you couldn’t meet yuna’s gaze as she said this, your face hot with shame. you felt so bad for her, and you didn’t quite know what to say in response. 

“i’m sorry that things ended this way,” you finally said. 

“it’s okay, it was gonna happen sooner or later,” yuna replied. “but if i’m right, then you should probably go talk to him, he’s probably going insane with guilt right now over me, and over you. bro’s got a lot on his plate.” 

you gave a small chuckle at the last sentence, making yuna smile a bit. 

“well thank you for the talk yuna, but i’ve gotta go. i think i need to go find jungwon.” 

yuna felt her heart break a bit at the words, but she smiled anyways and said bye as she watched you leave the bathroom. yuna didn’t know if she was supposed to cry or feel happy for you and jungwon, but she did know that she was right. again. she knew his heart had always belonged to you. anyone could see that. 

—--------

trying to find jungwon was easier than you expected. he was sitting on a swing, at the park that you became his, then wasn’t his anymore, and then confessed your love to him. there was so much that had happened at this park that it made your head hurt a bit just thinking about it. 

“is it okay if i sit here?” you asked, motioning to the swing beside him. 

“of course you can,” jungwon replied. 

the two of you sat in silence.

“i don’t think we should be friends anymore,” you finally spoke up. 

he jerked his head to look at you, shock coursing through him. “wait, why not?”

you took a deep breath before saying, “i can’t be friends with you anymore because i’m in love with you. there hasn’t been a moment since i’ve met you that i haven’t been.” 

his heart skipped a beat at your words. 

this was it, this is what you’d been waiting for since the day you laid eyes on jungwon. but you didn’t think it would go quite like this. you sat there for a moment as jungwon studied you, and you wished he would say something, anything. 

“but did you ever consider how i felt?” he finally asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “have you ever considered that maybe i’ve felt the same way?” 

you felt your breath catch in your throat as he continued, “i’ve seen you everyday since we were five when your family moved in next door. but i didn’t really see you until freshman year, sitting in class by the window, your hair flowing from the breeze that came through, doodling in your notebook instead of paying attention to the lesson. and when you caught me staring, you smiled and waved, and i swear i fell in love with you that day. that day, i knew my heart would always be yours.” 

“so please,” jungwon pleaded. “please, do whatever you want with it. you could break it a million times over and it would still be yours.”

now this, this was exactly you had always dreamed of. 

you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, trying to convey all the repressed love you’ve had for him for years through the kiss. you loved him. you loved every single part of jungwon, every flaw, every imperfection, everything that made him him. 

“so does this mean we’re official?” jungwon grinned as he pulled away, a playful look in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling the heart eyes in your gaze and the way your heart melted just by looking at him. 

“took you long enough.” 

[matchalovertrait]

"Count your days," is what Dulce is thinking. She WANTS to kill him, but she still feels a little bad for breaking his heart... and she's trying to be in her character development arc! Also, she kind of got herself into this mess.. What's a girl to do in this situation???? Okay, okay. Y'know what? We're overcomplicating things. In response, we have to be well-mannered and considerate. There is a certain image we have to maintain. Dulce will make a video calmly explaining the truth and bring out the receipts. After all, her cookbook wasn't made overnight. There are drafts of her ideas everywhere on her computer and she backed everything up in other places. This'll be easy to handle! Piece of cake.

Note: I'm kind of exploring different genres with each generation, at least the first three. Generation 1 was more slice-of-life (besides the social commentary on money, power, etc.). Generation 2 is going to be much more telenovela-esque 😅 So if things get a little outlandish, it's supposed to be like that.

I also researched a lot for certain things that are coming up, but I'm just one person so maybe it's not 100% perfect 😭 I don't have an editing team and I'm a very inexperienced writer. Sooooo yeahhh, let's get this next part started!

Transcript:

Dulce: Oh, a text from Rubiya! Did she send me another cat video?

Dulce: Never mind, she didn’t. Why does she want me to see Caruso’s video? Did he become an executive chef? Good for him.

[Thumbnail of Caruso's video titled, "storytime: MY IDEAS WERE STOLEN!!]

Dulce: This better be a clickbait title and this better not be about me.

20 mins into the video...

Caruso's "video" subtitles: Sorry for how long this video ended up being, but yes. In short, Dulce Alegria and I broke up because she was toxic. She treated me unfairly and took my recipes without asking! I was too afraid to speak out.

Caruso's "video" subtitles: However, I now recognize my self-worth will no longer be silenced! It’s time for me to take the credit for my stolen work. Bravo for me.

Caruso's "video" subtitles: I’m proud of myself for finally stepping forward. I was being manipulated and taken advantage of for too long. Thank you for watching.

Dulce: Son of a bitch.

Dulce: Okay, but there is no way people actually believe this. My cookbook is clearly personal to ME. [Scrolls down to read the comments.]

Dulce: I’m going to kill him.

[pablitogavii]

Reader getting really shy with gavi?

Family time

After a year of being in established relationship, Pablo wanted to bring me to Sevilla to meet more of his family and since he was traveling with the team for the last game it was the perfect timing.

I was a little nervous but he reassured me that they would love me just as much as him which calmed down my nerves a bit. Meeting his tía Almudiera and her family was very nice and she welcomed me to stay at her home while Pablo is in the hotel with the team.

"Estas segura, mi amor? If you're uncomfortable I can get you a hotel room?" he asked me on the side and I shut him up with a kiss reassuring him that I'd love to stay with his family which made him smile brightly.

"Bueno, I will come in the morning amor" he said after evening passed and we had nice dinner with his family before he was ready to depart. It was always hard goodbye especially since I got so used to sleeping in his arms at night.

"Will you..um leave your sweatshirt with me cariño?" I asked shyly and he knew the reason I needed it is to have his smell with me when he is away. It made him proud and he took it off immediately giving it to me with a sweet kiss on my hungry lips.

"We'll take good care of her niño, no te preocupes" his aunt said making us both smile as he embraced me and Pablo left smiling while stealing another look of me surrounded by his family..made him proud for finding the right one.

The next morning, I was sound asleep when Pablo came after training being told by his aunt that I was still sleeping. He promised to wake me up for breakfast before entering the small guest room they gave me.

He smiled seeing me cuddled up to a white comforter wearing one of his sweatshirt with a peaceful look on my face. He sat next to me holding around my waist and leaning down to leave wet kisses all over my neck which slowly woke me up with a smile.

I enjoyed his little ministration for a second completely forgetting that we were not home quickly pulling away thinking some of his family can come in to check on you.

"Amor, que pasa? No te gusta mis besitos no more?" he acted hurt looking down at me while moving a strand of my hair behind my ear so I can slowly open my eyes to look at him.

"No! Obvio que me gusta amor..I'm just worried someone will come in" I say looking at the door and he chuckled leaning down to capture my lips.

"My shy girl.." Pablo teased making me blush even more as we kissed a few times before a knock was heard and he told me that meant breakfast was ready for us.

We spent all day exploring Sevilla with his family, going to a little lake for a picnic with kids and I started feeling much more comfortable but still any physical touch from Pablo put me on edge.

Knowing my boyfriend and that his love language is physical touch, it was hard for him not to show it in front of his family. Not to mention he loved seeing em all flustered.

"Our reservation is ready, kids" his tía said and we walked to the little restaurant by the beach and the moment I sat down next to Pablo, I felt his hand gripping my thigh making me close my legs as smirk appeared on his handsome face. Little devil!

"Amorrr!" I whispered and he leaned in acting dumb for a moment.

"Something the matter, princesa?" he whispered back and I gave him a stern look to which he only smirked keeping his hand right where it was.

"Mrs. Gavira" waiter said and you smiled thinking a little about that title..imagining it belonging to you one day, and just like he could read your mind Pablo's hand moved from your thigh to hold your hand kissing it in front of everyone not really minding people watching.

"I'm thinking about it too.." he said and I blushed which he adored continuing talk with his family while holding my hand under the table. Obviously we were both young..but hearing his say he's also thinking about it made me so happy.

Next day, Pablo had long physical exam and training so we didn't see each other until lunch and when he arrived he saw me jumping in the pull with his little cousin smiling with his tía.

"Ella es una chica de oro Pablito, mucha suerte" she said and that made a boy even more proud that his family was loving me just like he knew they would. He knew it's impossible not to love a person like me.

"Pablo! Look the braids Y/n made for me! Are they pretty!?" his cousin was excited and Pablo smiled seeing you blushing shyly while grabbing a tower for the little girl.

"So pretty! You enjoying Y/n's company?" he asked and the little girl jumped up and down while nodding and rushing inside to grab some snack while Pablo walked up to me.

"They're all so nice to me amor, I love it here" I said gulping when he pulled me by my waist close to himself not caring much that I was wet.

"I love you mi amor.." he said to my bright red face before kissing my lips lovingly and I giggled resting my head on his shoulder while his family watched us with smiles. They were happy Pablo could find someone so genuine for himself.

"You need to be all packed up tonight when I pick you up" Pablo said and I pouted nodding my head as he pulled me in and kissed my forehead lovingly.

"We'll come back soon, bueno? Te lo prometo" he said and I smiled again nodding my head before he pecked my lips once again and we joined the rest inside.

[gor3-hound]

addicted to hurting

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, hate sex, one bed trope(love it idc), p in v, mean leon, huddle for warmth n that, fingering, p in v, creampie, degradation ig, one use of good girl

a/n: request for @princesspalac :) sorry it took so long, um... my brain didn't want to work for this. guys don't question the title i hate naming fics... this one especially but it's from drugs by eden

word count: 1.6k words

It was an undisputed fact that you and Leon did not get on well. Everyone knew it - the both of you made it very clear with your constant bickering.

But you were also both very competent agents, and that often meant you got assigned to missions together. It was usually fine, you both had enough professionalism to suck it up and get on with it, but he really seemed to want to wear your patience thin this time around.

It had been snowing heavily, and the chopper wouldn't be able to get to the extraction point. You'd been told that you should try and find shelter for the night, and when the snowstorm cleared up tomorrow, you'd both get evacuated. You had secured all the mission objectives and found an abandoned cabin to hole up in for the night, but the cold air nipped at your skin and made it impossible for you to relax.

You complain a little about having to stay here, shivering slightly as you settle on a worn down chair, the wood looking like it's halfway to rotting. You're surprised it hasn't given up under your weight at this point.

Eventually, Leon snaps.

“Jesus Christ. Do you ever shut the hell up?” He grumbles, running a hand through his hair, his brows pulled together in frustration. You scoff at him, your arms wrapped around your waist to keep you warm.

“It's fucking cold, and your attitude has been pissing me off all day. Apologies if I'm not a ray of sunshine.” You bite back, trying to ignore the chill settling deep in your bones.

He just glares at you before moving away, checking the perimeter and securing any entrances to the cabin. You take the opportunity to explore the other rooms, your heart sinking when you realise one very important detail.

There's only one bed.

Great. Fucking amazing. As if this day couldn't get any worse. You hear footsteps approaching, and you can sense the moment Leon realises the same thing by his sharp intake of breath.

“No. Absolutely not.” He says quickly, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway of the bedroom.

You dislike this just as much as he does, but it's probably a blessing in disguise. The both of you were too proud to admit it, but you'd likely freeze to death if you didn't huddle for warmth. The sun had only just set, and it was already this cold. You didn't want to imagine what it'd be like later.

“We're going to need to share it.” You say simply, approaching the bed and lying down facing away from Leon, staring at the wall as you wait for him to do the same.

“Well?” You say after a moment, noticing he hadn't come any closer. He hadn't moved from his spot, just staring distasteful at the empty spot in the bed. “Are you going to join me? Or did you drag your ass through herds of infected just to freeze to death?”

That gets a scowl from him. He kicks off his boots before approaching, settling on the edge of the bed and doing his best to keep his distance from you.

“You're going to need to come closer, or we're both going to be out of commission.” You say through gritted teeth, already frustrated with his attitude.

He lets out a soft grunt, but he shifts closer. He's practically spooning you, now, but you can feel the cold radiating from him. Neither of you had the chance to warm up yet, and you can't help but shift slightly in the bed, trying to get your blood circulating so you can warm up.

“Can you stop your squirming?” He hisses, his hand clamping down on your hip to still your movements. He seems so much closer now, his warm breath brushing the skin on the back of your neck and giving you goosebumps.

“I was just trying to get warm.”

“Then come here.” With that, he tugs you into his body, wrapping his arms tight around you. His nose presses against the crook of your neck, and you feel your heart racing. You feel warmer, sure, but you can't ignore the feeling of his muscles tensing as he holds you.

You don't mean to keep moving, but there's something uncomfortable about Leon of all people holding you so close. You try to put some distance between the two of you while staying close enough to feel his body heat.

“For fuck-” He lets out a deep breath from his nose, and then he's gripping you tighter, pulling you back against him. “Didn't I tell you to stop moving?”

You open your mouth to speak, but it's quickly stopped by a palm pressing firmly against the lower half of your face. “No. I'm so sick of your shit. All you've done is bitch the entire mission about being cold, and now I'm trying to help, you're being a fucking brat about it.”

His fingers push past your lips. He frowns slightly as you keep your jaw clenched, so he reaches his other hand around to squeeze the sides of your cheeks, prying your teeth apart so he can shove his fingers into your mouth.

“Ah, that's better. Get them nice ‘n wet for me. You gonna let me fuck that attitude out of you, huh?” You whine around his fingers, but you're already soaking your panties, nodding before you even realise what you're agreeing to.

He reaches down to free you from your pants, tugging them as far down as he can be bothered before he's yanking his fingers from your mouth and shoving two of them inside of you without any warning. He likes the way your face twists up at the burn, a grin spreading across his face.

The way he fingers you is almost clinical. He's not doing this for your pleasure - he just lazily scissors his fingers open until he deems that you're stretched enough for his cock. He doesn't bother undressing, just pulls his dick out after he unzips his cargos, pulling your hips up so you're face down, ass up.

“Fuck… surprised you're this tight… thought everyone in the office would've stuck their dicks in you by now.” He grunts as he bottoms out, immediately setting a brutal pace, his hips smacking your ass with every thrust.

“Fuck you, Kennedy.” You hiss, glaring at him over your shoulder. That look is hardly intimidating when he's pounding you into the mattress, and his hips stutter slightly as he barks out a laugh.

“I think you're mistaken, princess. See, I'm fucking you.” With that, he grabs the back of your head, pressing your face into the pillow to shut you up.

“God, that's better. Just take it, that's it. Good fucking slut.” He groans, his balls smacking your clit as he fucks into you with more vigour, low moans spilling from his lips as he uses you to chase his own pleasure.

He growls as he feels your pussy flutter around his cock, pulling out suddenly before yanking your head up by your hair. Your eyes water as your scalp stings, making you whimper softly.

“Ah-ah.” He tuts softly, his cock kicking against his stomach. He hates to admit it, but your cunt is one of the best he's had, and he's already close to cumming. “Not so fast. You gonna say please? I'll let you cum if you ask nicely.”

“You're such an… an asshole.” You say through gritted teeth, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as you press your palms on the mattress, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on your scalp from him tugging at your hair.

“That's not very nice, is it? Wanna try that again?” He asks you, his tone mockingly sweet. Makes you want to smack that stupid grin of his face. You don't get the chance, ‘cause he pulls even harder on your hair, your neck craning back painfully.

“Fuck… fuck, okay. Please, let me cum.” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut. He presses your face back into the pillow, pushing down on it as he lines himself back up with your drippy hole, resuming his rough pace from before.

“Good girl. Look at you, capable of following orders. All it took was a little dick.” He coos, angling his hips so he's bumping against your sweet spot every time he pushes his hips forward, groaning at the way it makes you tighten around him.

You cum around his cock, your moans muffled as he keeps fucking into you. He clenches his jaw as your walls spasm with your orgasm, drawing his own out of him seconds later. He buries himself as deep as he can get, his tip knocking your cervix and he cums, heat filling you up and coating your insides.

He pulls out once his dick stops twitching, tucking himself back in his pants and zipping them up. He can hear the rustling of sheets as you pull your pants up, but he's staring at the ceiling. He's sweating, hair sticking to his forehead. At least it helped warm him up.

He can feel your gaze on him, and he frowns, tilting his head to the side to look at you. He raises a brow, his gaze flicking over your face. You really are too hot to be as annoying as you are.

“What? I'm not gonna cuddle you. It's warm now. Go to bed.” He glances at you one last time before turning his back to you, lying on his side and closing his eyes.

He's out like a light in a minute flat.

[lilybug-02]

Happy 2 Year Anniversary to The Chara Timeline ✨

I FINALLY made drawing references for you guys, yippie!✨

It’s wild how long I’ve been working on this comic without reference sheets. I’m never that consistent with my art style, so I figured it was a waste of time 🫥💀😔 this is my first full comic okay…

Thoughts and Feelings About the Comic Below ❤️💖💕💞

Wow. It’s been 2 years??? I thought I would be done with this comic in 2 months! I don’t know whether to feel worried or accomplished!!

(With months between each update, I understand why it’s been 2 years. I’m a slow writer and artist and well- many things have come up in my life that had to come first, like my sisters wedding! 💞 and college 😅)

I want to thank my family and friends (WHO DO NOT READ THIS COMIC- THANK GOD) 💕 AND I want to THANK YOU! The readers! 💐💐

You guys are relentless! I’m as impatient as traffic and yet you guys wait for weeks or months at a time for like 4 pages?! You guys don’t even complain!!! I truly want to thank you all for that ❤️ it helps me so much. Being busy and getting burnt out are common and it helps me feel relaxed that i'm not on a timer. Literally tho- you guys keep this comic chugging I swear. Tysm 💐

Unorganized rambling about the comic ahead :) ⭐️🔥

—

My feelings with this comic are actually so complicated. On one hand I hate looking at my older art because GOD IT LOOKS SO OFF I want to stab it, and then on the other hand I am so so proud of myself for even continuing it this far. Ngl the weird route has been one of my favorite parts of this comic. It took me FOREVER to figure out an ending, but damn do I still get chills >:) hehe.

I’m still miffed that I named this project “Deltarune: The Chara Timeline” I could have gone for something so much COOLER. Doesn’t help I use like 7 different titles for it either. We got Deltarune the Chara timeline, Deltarune chara timeline, THE Chara timeline, chara timeline, Ct??? Man,,, I’m crazy. I take after my family so hard. We have 3 names for each of our dogs 💀.

Comic/Animation Tip i have learned. It is VERY GOOD to make the character relatively simple in design. Shape language is also super important, ((but I never really got around to doing that before I was half way through the comic, woops.)) These things can make ur process go by so much faster. This whole comic has been a HUGE learning curve. LIKE OH MY GOD. I had to learn how to draw backgrounds, write dialogue, plan a story, learn how to draw fast and draw noses (which god damn I really still can’t). And I had to learn how the heck to squeeze art into a tiny page and make it not look grainy. It's intense!

Anyways.... this has been such an awesome opportunity! Thanks Toby Fox!

I totally ran out of “art time” for my iPad and wanted to finish this today. So it’s a bit rushed. I’ll add weapons and possibly the other characters later :)

Oh shi- I forgot to add this grainy image of the next few pages lmao

[tkwrites]

I'll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest via Bauer Hockey

Title: I’ll Be Proud For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC) 

Summary: When an opportunity for Quinn to meet her uncle arrives, Sarah jumps at the chance, and they attend a St. Patrick's Day party at her uncle's house on Salt Spring Island. On the ferry ride back home, Sarah finally explains why she had to be close to family after her mothers death, necessitating her move to Vancouver. 

Warnings: Mentions of depression, grief, and meeting new family. Talks of suicidal thoughts and suicidal ideation. No attempts or methods are described or discussed. 

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for a long time. In many ways, it's extremely self-indulgent. I loved writing the banter between Sarah and her uncle Travis, and it was very healing for me to write about Sarah’s experiences after her mothers death. 

Sarah’s experiences are very similar to the experiences I had after losing my father. My dad died three years ago in September, and I have not experienced any kind of suicidal ideation for over a year and a half. While I was in the thick of it, it felt like I was always going to be stuck in that darkness. The other side of that chasm is so beautiful and so worth the work it took to get here. 

I was very lucky that I already had a therapist who could refer me to a specialist and friends and family who cared very deeply about me and my mental well-being. Seeing a psychiatrist to get on medication was one of the best decisions I ever made.

If you are having or have thoughts like these in the future, please, please talk to a friend and a professional to get help. The world is such a better place with you in it. xx

I’ll Be Proud For You 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah grabbed Quinn's wrist as he walked toward the kitchen. “Do you have plans for St. Patrick's Day?” 

“I think Garly's having a party. Why?” 

“My uncle Travis always hosts a dinner party since we’re Irish, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me.” 

“Sure.” 

A smile took over her whole face, and he was instantly glad he agreed. 

Internally, though, his heart was racing. Her uncle was the closest family she had nearby. When she first moved to the city, she'd lived with him for a year. She still went to his house at least two Sundays a month. Quinn knew they were close.

At least he had a while to mentally prepare. 

“It’s a bit of a drive - they live on Saltspring, so we have to take the ferry.”

“Just means I get to spend more time with you,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, I like it over there.”

Her smile got bigger, and he swore his knees got a little weak. God, what wouldn’t he do for that smile?

“Is there anything I should do to prepare?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“Just wear something green. And don't wear anything that says 'Kiss me, I'm Irish' unless you actually want to be kissed.”

“Wouldn't mind being kissed by you,” he said with a wink. 

Laughing, she leaned over and obliged. 

He instantly wished they weren't at the dining room table so he could lay her out and kiss her like he meant it. 

A few minutes later, the nagging feeling of neglecting her studying won out, and Sarah pulled away. “I'm sorry,” she said, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, “I really need to finish this. Give me thirty minutes?” 

“Then you're mine for the night?” 

She nodded. 

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead and wandered to the kitchen to make dinner. 

As she left school for the aquarium the next day, Sarah called her uncle Travis.

“Hey, Sar, how are you doing?” 

“Good. How are you, Trav?” 

“Great. Samson started crawling on Tuesday.”

“What? No.”

“Yep.” 

“I refuse to believe he’s crawling already.” 

“I know. It’s the worst. What’s up?” 

“I just wanted to let you know I'm bringing someone with me on Sunday.”

“One of your roommates?”

“No, someone I'm seeing.”

He actually seemed to choke on whatever he was drinking and coughed a few times before asking, “I'm sorry, what?”

“We've been going out for a while, and I want him to meet everyone.”

“How long is a while?” 

“Two and a half months.” 

“And you were going to tell us when?”

“I was waiting to see how serious it would be.”

“And it's serious?”

“I think it’s headed that way. I want to see what you think of him.” 

“What's his name?”

“Quinn.” 

“How did you meet?”

“At the aquarium,” she said,  “he asked me out to lunch, and we've been dating ever since.” 

“He lives in the city?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Is there anything I should know about him?” 

“Just that I really like him. Please promise you won't embarrass me.”

“No can do. That's what uncles are for, but I can promise I won't pull out your baby pictures.”

“You don't even have my baby pictures.”

“Precisely. Otherwise, I probably would.”

Rolling her eyes, she asked what she could bring to dinner. After deciding she would bring the soda bread and butter, they hung up, and she sent the plan to Quinn.  

Great. When should I pick you up?

I'm driving, so I'll come get you. 

You have a car? 

Technically, it's my uncles, but I haven't driven in forever, so I’m calling transportation on this one.

He laughed. Tocc canceled practice tomorrow so we can leave whenever. 

I'll pick you up at 1 then? 

What time is dinner? 

5, but the drive over is 2 and a half hours, and I like to be there a little early to help out. 

“Why does your uncle keep a car here?” Quinn asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I have parking included with my apartment, so it just made sense. I drop it off at the Ferry terminal once or twice a month for Trev when he has to come to the mainland for work.” 

“I didn’t know that. Let me know next time and I’ll give you a ride home.” 

She shot a grateful smile at him before looking back to the road.

It was a strange thing for Quinn to be a passenger. He was usually the one driving, and rarely got the chance to watch her for such a long period of time uninterrupted.

He was taken with her. With the constellation of freckles on her cheeks and the button of her nose, and the round swell of her bottom lip. He wondered if anyone would notice if they just made out on the ferry ride over. She didn’t have tinted windows. Probably not the best idea.

She was wearing the same green dress she’d worn when Brady came to town. It still looked beautiful and soft, and he still couldn’t stop the fantasies of stripping it off her from clouding his mind. 

“How was your morning?”

“Fine.” he scrubbed his hands over his face, “It’s nice to have a day off.” 

“I bet,” she said, reaching over to entwine her fingers with his. 

They held hands until they hit traffic and she had to get back to the gear shift.

He’d never driven a manual transmission, and he was impressed by her seamless shifting, despite the fact that she was a bit of a terrifying driver. He found himself reaching for the door handle more than once as she weaved in and out of traffic and went a little too fast for his liking.

“How was your day?” he asked to distract himself.

“Good. I did some reading and finished up some assignments I’d put off from earlier in the week.” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of putting things off,” he teased. 

She snorted and threw him a sarcastic look. 

“You’re so organized, I didn’t think you could.”

Quinn had seen her planner once. It was the size of a college notebook with a column for every day of the week. Each of her classes was assigned a different color, and every day was an organized riot: hours blocked for class, work, assignments, tests, and readings to be completed. He didn’t know how she got it all done. He was exhausted just reading it. Then, he’d smiled when he realized he was there. She had all his games and their plans and dates written in sparkly blue ink. 

“I still miss things. Sunday is my catchup day,” she explained. “Usually, I sleep in and do my homework on the ferry over and back, but I wanted to have it done early so I could spend the time with you.”

“It would have been okay,” he said. 

The smile she gave him made his heart patter against his lungs. That, along with a stop so sudden, the seatbelt engaged to snap him back, made it a little hard to breathe. 

“Thank you, but I would rather spend this time with you.” 

His heart warmed at the gesture, and her willingness to give up her one morning to sleep in to spend time with him.

Once on the ferry, they stayed in the car and talked instead of going up on deck. He told her about practice and trying to push aside his nerves about making the playoffs, “Everyone keeps talking about it like it’s a guarantee.” 

“Well, you are second in the league.”

“Yeah, but so much could change. I don’t want to get my hopes up, and the media asks about it practically every day. I’m getting so tired of telling them, ‘that’s what we’re aiming for, and we have a group that can get there.’” He threw his voice into a self-depricating, exaggerated version of itself. 

Despite her attempt to stifle it down, a giggle spilled out of her mouth. “I think they’re probably asking because it’s going to happen.” 

“We don’t know that. Demmer’s out, and we haven’t been doing great…” he trailed off. 

“You’re still first in the Pacific by almost 10 points, Quinn. Can’t you celebrate that for a minute?” 

He sighed, “it’s just… so much can change in a month, and I don’t want to be the guy who talks about how good it will be to play in the playoffs only to have his team not make it. I’d be a laughing stock on the internet for the rest of time and a lesson to all other captains to not jinx it.”

“I’d never considered it that way.” 

He made a noise of ascent in his throat. 

“You can celebrate it with me, though, right?” she asked, lacing their fingers together.

Quinn wanted to agree, he really did, but the superstitious part of his mind went to war against it. The result was a kind of half-hearted grimace.

Laughter burst from her. “Fine, fine. You don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just be proud for you,” she said, bringing his hand to her mouth so she could kiss his knuckles. 

His stomach did a jerking little jig, and a real smile spread over his face. 

Eventually, their conversation turned to her uncle. 

“Trav is a sound engineer, and he toured with Brooks & Dunn for a long time. He moved to Vancouver because he said it’s the most beautiful city he’s been to.” 

“I would agree with that,” Quinn said. 

“Now he stays at home with their kids. Trevor is a copyright lawyer.”

“Oh, your uncle’s gay,” he said with a spark of understanding. 

“Is that a problem?” Sarah asked, raising her brows. 

“No, of course not. I was just confused. You mentioned Trav and Trev, and I wasn’t sure if I was hearing his name wrong or what.” 

When they pulled off the ferry, Sarah turned onto a small two lane road, running away from town. It didn’t look like anything was out here except forest and pebble beaches. 

Sarah had an incredible inherent sense of direction - the kind he had to rely on his phone GPS for - so he knew they weren’t lost, but he couldn’t see anything that looked remotely like civilization.

When they turned onto a small driveway tucked right into the woods, drove up a hill, and pulled in front of a home that looked more like a cabin than a house, Quinn wasn’t too shocked. 

“What a view,” he said as they got out of the car. 

Despite the drizzly weather, the horizon was still stunning. The gray blue water of the Salish Sea seemed to melt into the rolling, gray clouds, making them indistinguishable except where pine covered islands rose out of the water, vibrantly green against all the neutral colors. The city skyline cut a dark, jagged edge across the water. If the commute wasn’t so long, he would live out here, too.

“I know, right?” she said, picking up a tote bag and taking his hand to lead him up to the front door.

“Hey Trav,” she said, embracing him as soon as the door was opened. “Trav, this is Quinn. Quinn, this is my uncle Travis,” she introduced when they broke apart

Other than the fact that he had her same bright blue eyes, her uncle didn’t look anything like he’d expected. Quinn had braced himself to meet a middle-aged man who was around his dads age. Instead, Travis looked no more than ten years older than Sarah. The oldest looking thing about him was his gray hair, which was casually swept back in that effortless way Quinn’s hair could never quite manage. He wore jeans and a green band t-shirt without socks or shoes. His toenails and fingernails were painted various shades of green. 

 “It's nice to meet you, sir,” Quinn said as they shook hands. If he wasn’t so used to seeing it, he would have missed the way Travis’s eyes widened slightly in recognition.

“Just call me Travis,” he said with a snort, trying to cover his shock. “No one has ever called me, sir in my life. Come on in.”

Trying to catch her eye as they passed, Travis wondered how, when he’d asked if there was anything he should know about this guy she was bringing, Sarah didn’t think the fact that he was Quinn Hughes was something he ought to know. She didn’t notice, and he dropped it before Quinn did.

“Beara!” a little girl yelled as she ran toward them. “Beara! Beara!”  She had curly pigtails, each tied with a green bow that flopped as she ran. 

“Sawyer!” Sarah caught her before they collided, picking her up and swinging her around. “I missed you,” she said, pulling the little girl against her chest. 

Putting her hands on Sarah’s cheeks, she said, “missed you more.” 

When she noticed Quinn, she turned her face away from him and put her thumb in her mouth, suddenly shy.

“Sawyer, this is my friend, Quinn,” she said, turning so they could make eye contact. 

“Hi, Sawyer,” he said. “I like your ribbons.” 

She smiled around her thumb at him. She had those same bright blue eyes, though they were slightly wider than Travis or Sarah’s. 

“What do you say to that?” her father coached gently.

“Thank you.” she didn’t take her thumb out of her mouth when she said it, so it was a little garbled, but he got the idea.

Sarah set her down, and she ran back to the kitchen, squealing when Travis chased her down the hallway. 

“Beara?” Quinn asked, humor in his eyes as she took his hand, following after them.

“My whole life, my nickname has been Sar Bear. When she was younger, Sawyer had a hard time saying her S’s, so she started calling me Beara instead of Sarah, and it just kind of stuck.” 

He snorted, “oh god, the guys are going to have a heyday with that.” 

“With what?” 

“You know how they call me Huggy Bear sometimes?”

She nodded. 

“Huggy Bear and Sar Bear?” He snorted, “I mean, come on.” 

The house, while rustic on the outside, was homey on the inside. Neutral gray walls and a modern, light kitchen. It seemed the whole back half of the house was made of glass, giving a perfect view into the misty forest. It was beautiful, but Quinn wasn’t sure he’d want to be here at night to see what came out of those woods.

Sarah was laughing as she entered the kitchen, hand in hand with Quinn. The shock of Quinn Hughes being in his house, of Quinn Hughes dating his niece, who had always been more of a little sister to him, still had him reeling. 

Even through that startling revelation, Travis wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her so relaxed and happy since her parents died. The protective part of him held himself back from reading too much into it. The last thing Sarah needed in her life was more heartache.

“Quinn, this is my uncle Trevor.” 

“It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a little busy,” he said, gesturing to the meat he was fishing out of a marinade. “I hope you like beef stew.” 

“Sounds great.” 

“And this,” Sarah picked a pudgy little boy up from his high chair, “is Samson.” 

Quinn held a hand out to the little boy, who wrapped his tiny fingers around one of Quinn’s as he smiled and babbled. Samson looked more like Trevor. He had dark curly hair, dark eyes, and smooth olive skin. Quinn wondered if each of them had fathered an embryo for a surrogate. 

“Can I get you a beer?” Travis asked. 

“Sure.” 

“We only have Guinness today.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. It’s the Irish way, right?” 

Laughing, he handed the can off to Quinn before turning to Sarah. “Hey, can you help me find the barley?” 

He knew he was being obvious as he pulled her into the pantry, but he hoped this was a little less obvious than pulling her back into the living room would be. At least he had an excuse for her help this way. 

As he shut the door behind them, he heard Quinn ask, “is there anything I can help with?” 

Travis clicked the light on. They were standing nearly chest to chest in the tiny room, baby Samson squished between them. He didn’t seem to mind as he continued to babble, reaching out for the brightly colored packages. 

“You didn’t tell me you were dating Quinn Hughes!” he hissed. 

“You know who he is?”

“Everyone in this entire province knows who Quinn Hughes is, Sarah.” 

“I didn’t when we met.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Why not?” If she didn’t have a baby in her arms, she would have folded them over her chest. 

“You’re too busy learning stuff to pay attention to things like that. He was all over the news for three weeks when they put him in as Captain this fall. Plus, you only care about football.” 

“I do not. Well, not anymore, at least,” she said, catching Samson’s hand before he could pull a box of pasta off the shelf. “Anyway, why does it matter that he’s Quinn Hughes?” 

“He’s - I mean,” Travis blew a harsh breath out of his nose. “When you said you met at the aquarium, I thought he was some guy who works there, not the captain of the fucking Vancouver Canucks!”

“He's just a guy, Trav. He just happens to play hockey for a living.” 

His mouth opened and closed as he seemed to realize he couldn't argue against that point. “He’s a pro athlete, Sarah.” 

“So?”

“So, they’re gone all the time, and the money fucks with their heads and pretty soon they’re all cheating on their partners.”

One of her eyebrows arched up, “do you only watch reality TV, or do you sometimes deviate to Lifetime?” 

Despite himself, he laughed. “I just mean,” he paused, glancing down at his green fingernails. Sawyer had insisted on painting them and pulled out every shade of green polish in the house, determined to use them all. “I don’t want you to get hurt. He treats you well?” 

“Yes. Very well. I wouldn’t keep dating him or bring him to meet you if he didn’t. He's actually the best guy I've ever dated,” she added. 

Travis's eyebrows shot into his gray hairline. 

“Just spend some time with him. You'll see. He’s really thoughtful and nice.” 

“Okay, but I’m having a talk with him by the end of the night.” 

“No.”

“Listen, I just need to make sure he’s good enough for you.” 

“Don’t you think that’s something I can decide for myself?” 

“I’m just going to have a chat with him, man to man. You’re the one that wanted to know what I think of him,” he said. “It's happening whether you like it or not. I'm just letting you know.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but don’t embarrass me. And none of that asking for permission bullshit. I'm not a possession.”

“Dont insult me,” Travis chided, smiling, loving seeing pieces of his oldest sister in Sarah. He was glad Becky had instilled those same, strong feminist values in her children. “Of course he doesn't need permission. I just care about you.”

“Thanks, Trav,” she said, touched. 

He pulled her into a hug, smooshing Samson between them more. He let out a tiny grunt.

“Here, take your baby,” she said, handing him off and grabbing a box of cookies as an alibi as she left. 

If Quinn thought anything was suspicious, he didn't let on, continuing to chop the lettuce Trevor had set him to preparing. 

“Teddy Graham?” Sarah asked, offering the box as she stood next to him at the long island.

“Sure.”

“Hey Sar, we were thinking about coming into the city for your birthday. I have to be in that day for a few meetings, so Trav was going to bring the kids on the ferry. Do you think that would work? We thought we could take you to dinner.” Trevor said, looking up from braising the beef. 

“Yeah, I would like that,” she said with a big smile.

As he walked back into the kitchen, Travis caught Quinn’s wide-eyed expression. 

“When’s your birthday?” he asked, tipping the lettuce into a bowl.

“On April third.” 

He gulped. It was a gesture Travis immediately recognized as a man grappling for a purchase with new information.

 Quinn pulled out his phone and quietly breathed, “we’re in Arizona that day.”

“I know,” Sarah said with a smile that tried but didn’t totally succeed in covering her disappointment. 

Something about it made Travis’ hackles rise. Quinn wasn't actively hurting her, but his lifestyle was.

Quinn saved her birthday in her contact card and put his phone back in his pocket. “I guess we’ll celebrate when I get back.” 

“That would be nice,” she said with a smile that was genuine this time.

Travis got her a can of Guiness, and she wrinkled her nose. “Can I have whiskey?”

“You hate whiskey.” 

“I’d rather it than this tar,” she said, pushing the can back to him. “At least whiskey can be mixed into something palatable.”

“Here here,” Trevor said, laughing. 

Travis mimed pulling a knife out of his chest. “You’ve insulted our ancestors, Sarah.” 

“Listen, the Irish invented a lot of really great things: boycotts, modern chemistry, the stethoscope, the submarine,” she said, counting them off on her fingers.

Quinn gave her a surprised look. 

“I did a presentation on Irish inventions in high school,” she explained, flipping her hands, “the point is, is that their alcohol is not one of them.” 

Travis laughed, taking the can for himself. “You want a ginger highball then?” 

She beamed, “I think you know the answer to that.”

“What is that?” Quinn asked. 

“It’s whiskey and ginger ale. It’s delicious.” 

 

Before other guests arrived, Travis asked Quinn if he'd like to see the vintage shelby Mustang he was restoring.

Quinn agreed and gulped when Trevor asked if Sarah could help him find Sawyer. This was one of those talks. He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her uncle out to the garage. 

“Listen,” Travis said after they admired the beautiful white car, “Sarah isn't my daughter, but she means a hell of a lot to me, and I want to make sure she’s not going to get hurt. She’s gone through enough heartache already.” 

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Quinn licked his lips before responding, “the last thing I want is to cause her more pain. I know she’s been through too much. I don’t know that I can guarantee she’ll never get hurt, but I can say that I would never hurt her intentionally.” 

“Do you think your job will get in the way?” 

“The travel definitely takes a toll. But I really like Sarah, and I think we have a lot of potential.” Times like these, he was glad for all of his media training. Not that this was anything like a press conference, but they did get him used to thinking fast and answering hard questions.

“She’s not really a model NHL girlfriend.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Quinn demanded, barely keeping a glare off of his features. 

“Just that most of your lot date models that don’t have normal jobs and aren’t in school,” Travis said, fighting to keep a smile off of his face. That defensiveness answered a lot of his questions. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” he agreed, biting down the urge to correct him. Most of his teammates were married to their high school or college sweethearts. “I like that Sarah has her own stuff and that she’s so independent. Before I met her, I dated a girl like you described, and I was always a little worried about what she was doing while I was on the road. I don't ever get that with Sarah.” 

“What do you do on the road?”

“Mostly, I sleep or hang out with the guys. We don't have as much free time as people think.” 

Travis was still looking at him appraisingly over the hood of the car. Had he not been exposed to Sarah’s blue, blue eyes, he would have found her uncles stare incredibly intimidating. 

“Look, Sir - Travis,” he corrected quickly, “I really -” he stopped himself, not wanting to say that to her uncle first. “I really like Sarah, and we really get along. I know it’s not an ideal thing for me to be on the road during the season, but it seems to be working well so far. I want to be with her, and if she’ll let me, I’d like to be in her life for a long time. I just want to make her happy.” 

Travis nodded. “What’s your favorite thing about her?” It was a question his mother-in-law asked him when he met her. It wasn’t until this moment that he realized what a telling question it was. 

“She treats me like a normal person,” Quinn admitted. Even though he knew it made him sound conceited, it was his favorite thing about her. She’d never treated him like anything else than a normal guy. “And she’s interesting and easy to talk to and really respectful to people around her.” 

“Okay,” Travis said, nodding, glad to see Quinn saw the same things he did. “Okay.” His face split into the natural smile he’d given Sarah when he first opened the door. “I can see why she likes you.” 

Despite his attempt to stay cool and collected, Quinn felt a blush splash onto his cheeks as relief relaxed his shoulders.

“I'm not going to say I'll kill you if you hurt her, but just know she has me and Trevor in her corner.” 

Quinn smiled, “I get it. I would want to hurt anyone who hurt her, too.” 

The dinner party was small - no more than 10 people, and only one of them, their friend’s teenage son, Jace, gawked when he walked in to see Quinn in the kitchen. Quinn took it in stride and talked shop with Jace for a while before dinner was served and he took his seat next to Sarah, who had been watching him with a secret, proud kind of smile on her lips.

Halfway through the night, Travis looked over at them to find Quinn watching her as she talked with someone, with this quiet, infatuated look on his face. A few more of his fears were put to rest.

As he stood at the kitchen sink with his niece, drying the pots and pans she was washing by hand, he leaned closer to her, “I can see what you see in him,” he said, conspiratorially. 

“See,” she said, nudging her shoulder into his as she handed him a knife, “I told you.” 

“How did you manage going to school from here for a year?” Quinn asked as they pulled onto the ferry for the ride home. 

“When I lived with them, they lived in the city. They needed to move into a bigger house when Samson was born. By that time, Trevor was working from home most of the time, and I was okay to live with roommates. So, I moved into the apartment I'm in now, and they moved onto the island.”

He waited until the car was parked before asking, “what do you mean you were okay to live with roommates?” 

She pulled in a heavy breath. It was bound to come out eventually. May as well tell him while they had a solid hour and a half boat ride to talk about it. 

“After my mom died, I really struggled.” 

“Wouldn’t anyone?” Quinn asked. 

Sarah pushed the seat back to give her enough room to turn and face him. Her right knee pressed up against the center console. She needed to be looking at him when she said this.

“I mean… I really,” she paused, trying to find the right words. “I remember I flew back to Hawaii a week after the funeral, thinking it was going to be so nice to get back into my routine, but I had this massive gulf in front of me and a literal ocean between me and my family. My roommates were kind of party animals, and they had no idea how to support me, and I had broken up with Kaleo, my boyfriend, before I left because he didn't want anything to do with her funeral or my grief. It felt like no matter where I was, I was just so…alone.” 

It felt like someone was reaching down Quinn's throat and wringing his heart. 

“I called my sister one day - I think I woke her up, which was really shitty because she had a six month old who was teething.” She laughed a little, but there was too much sadness in it for it to be convincing.

“Anyway, I called her crying because I…I started having these really intense thoughts about killing myself.” 

A steep breath stuck in his lungs. He wasn’t totally sure what he thought she would say, but he hadn’t expected that.

“She flew out to be with me, and I moved home two days later. Just packed everything up and left. I didn’t even tell my boss - I was still on FMLA for the funeral, and she had to call me when I didn't show up to work the next Monday.” 

 “Did you ever…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Attempt?”

He nodded, and Sarah shook her head, “no, but the thought of it was really terrifying. Like, I saw for the first time how someone could get into that headspace where they might take their own life. I just remember ruminating on those thoughts and thinking, ‘I don’t wanna die.’” She pressed the heel of her hand under her eye to catch some of the tears that slipped.

“How did you get out of it?” Perhaps she was just really good at hiding it, but she didn’t seem that depressed in all the time he’d known her. 

“I stayed with my sister for the next nine months. I got on some meds and started seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist, and we talked through what was bringing those thoughts up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d already gone through the grief process with my dad, so I knew how awful it was. I never expected to have to go through another big death while I was still single. I thought by the time my mom died, I would have a consistent partner in my life - maybe even a family - and I just kept thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this again.’” 

Quinn wanted to go back in time and make it better. Somehow make sure they met before she was in the city so he could be there for her when it all happened. 

“Anyway, my psychiatrist told me our brains are basically just big problem solvers. You give it a problem, it wants to fix it. So when I kept telling myself, ‘I don’t want to do this again,’ my brain was just coming up with the swiftest solution for me to not have to do it again. When I changed the way I was thinking about it and started giving myself some more grace, those thoughts lessened a lot.” 

God, she was even stronger than he thought. 

“Even with all that stuff, I still really wanted to go to grad school, and my therapist and my psychiatrist agreed that it was best for me to have a goal to work toward, even if it meant moving away from home. I was really scared that if I moved out totally on my own, those feelings would come up again, and no one would be around for me to talk to about them, and I might hurt myself. But I couldn't study the ocean in Nevada. My brother actually suggested UBC and living with Travis. I called him to see what he thought. I hadn't even applied, but I didn't want to if I didn't have a plan for when I got in. I pitched that I could be a nanny of sorts when I wasn't in school. They told me they’d love to have me stay with them. I applied and by some miracle was accepted on the first try, and the rest is history,” she said, shrugging.

“Do you…” he paused, not totally sure how best to ask this. “Do you still think about it?” 

She shook her head, “not much anymore. Every once in a while, it comes back when a big grief marker comes up, or I get really, really stressed or anxious, but the thoughts are always  really fleeting.”

Even though it meant the console was pressing into his stomach, and she was pitched back slightly, Quinn leaned over to gather her against him. “I can’t believe how strong you are.” 

“It’s not like I had any other choice.” 

“Clearly you did,” he said, reluctantly settling back into his seat. 

“I didn’t,” she said, voice quiet but firm. “There was no way I was going to put my family through another death, and like I said, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to not be in pain anymore, and those are very different things.” 

“I just think you should be proud of yourself, that’s all.” 

“I mean, I am proud that I got out of it, and proud that I know how to ask for what I need now, but being strong in the face of death is just something you have to do. There’s no way out but through.”

“Fine,” he said, repeating her action from earlier and bringing her knuckles to his lips, “I’ll be proud for you.” 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

[palepinkgoat]

I was asked by someone in the @shamelessdvdcommentary community to share things "behind the scenes" one of my fics. I just think it's the coolest thing so I decided to participate! I hope you enjoy it. <3

Which Fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

Restoration. It's my most "popular" fic by far!

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

Restoration is a multi chapter fic written in (big gasp!) 2016. It's 14 chapters and took me four months to write. For me that's very fast! But back in that day I was cranking fics out faster. The story is 112,794 words.

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

Well, our air conditioner needed a tune up and we called Bowman HVAC (a real company here, as well as the name I gave the HVAC company in Restoration) and a redheaded technician showed up. The wheels started turning immediately. At the time a lot of houses were being knocked down in the neighborhood (gentrification sucks) so there was a lot of construction happening. I'm sure that helped too.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

I wrote it from Ian's POV. I had only written in his POV one other time. I fell even more in love with him in the process, and exclusively wrote him for years afterward. I can connect to Ian as a bipolar person, and his bipolar features heavily in the story. It seemed like a great opportunity to explore that.

What was your favourite scene to write?

I loved writing the scene with them in the bar bathroom in chapter 3. The first time they kissed . The whole scene felt very alive to me when I wrote it. I also really loved all the scenes with Ian and Sully - they were very fun to write.

How did you come up with the title?

I heard from a neighbor that there were different ways houses could be built, and if you leave any part of the house intact (the neighbor's front porch was left and they built out from that) you can categorize it as a restoration. I liked that. I also really liked the image of rebuilding things metaphorically.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

I'm not sure if this counts but I worked really hard on the construction elements and making them metaphorical to the chapters at the same time!

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I don't really remember but I know that a lot of it just flew out of me. I don't remember struggling with any of it, surprisingly!

Favourite line in the story?

I'll pick the end of chapter 4, which includes a scene a lot of readers like. It's the "teaching" scene, wink wink. The last line is "He leans forward and meets Ian's mouth, opening wide and tasting him, them, this."

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

I initially thought it would be a lot shorter, but I realized it needed breathing room and a longer timeline. I'm glad I followed that instinct.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

I don't think it fits securely in a trope? I'm always a little confused about those.

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

I'm proud of the bipolar elements to this story, and some of the dialogue. I feel like the dialogue in this was the easiest I've ever written. It was just really nice to write.

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

In the era when I was writing it Amanda was very much in the picture on the show, and I thought her personality would really fit to be one of Ian's "helpers." But I never really got into any scenes with featuring both Lip and Amanda being with Ian at the same time.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

A lot of Ian's med stories and his notebook he keeps for processing episodes and health in general were mine, as well as most of the scenes with the doctor. The office is modeled after that doctor's office and everything. Honestly that doctor and the office were pretty terrible in real life, but I made her better than my doctor was. Now I have a fantastic doctor!

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

I actually did not re-read it for YEARS and re-read it in its entirety for perhaps the first time ever a year or so ago. It probably sounds really vain but I was surprised how cohesive it was and how much I liked it. I'm really proud of it and so glad people like it as much as they do. I don't think I'd change anything really.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

I have been asked, but I don't think I could do it! Like I literally think I couldn't write it in the same tone now that it's been so long.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc?

As far as easter eggs from story to story, I didn't add any of those things to Restoration. I did however reference the Restoration building and street in my recent fic Paragraphs! Another thing to know about me is most of the names I chose for original characters are real names of people I know. For example the developer of the property, Kowalski, is named after one of my besties. Do these people even know I write fanfic? Not really. So it's just for my own amusement. :)

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

I'm amazed at its staying power. I can't believe people are still recommending it and re-reading it. It makes me feel so loved.

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Back in that day I didn't feel very nervous. After I wrote this story I felt more nervous because people loved the fic so much and I felt like it was a lot to live up to!

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

I did not! Solo act, baby. I have used a beta on Paragraphs and The Ink is a Witness to This though and I think it helps tremendously. Fun fact: it makes me more nervous to share with one person than it does to share with the world which is funny to me.

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

"Ian nods. Fuck it. He slides off his bed and settles on the floor between Mickey’s legs. “You want to feel it again?” Ha! This is a big reader favorite in this story (and referenced above) and even made into art. I didn't even mean to make it hot. I thought it was just a little scene, no big deal. The response was fun. The gist is Mickey is saying he doesn't know how to give an, uh, below the belt job and Ian kind of "teaches" him by talking him through what he's doing. Thanks to @wehangout for giving me this moment to work with!

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story?

I cherish every single reader and all the comments and kudos over the years. Writing this fic completely changed my life. I'm serious. So anyone who likes it or talks about it feeds in to that beautiful change and I'm just so, so grateful. I loved writing it.

[pauking5]

Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 1

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Synopsis: There's no place for women in the world of racing. Let alone rally. Until you show up - the daughter of a racing legend who lost everything out of nowhere - ready to stir the pot of competition and throw fuel to Naozumi's fire, burning wild in more than just one way. Just how far will you go to take your rightful place in the world of rally, restore the team to its glory and change things for the better?

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, dating in secret

Word count: 4.5k+

A/N: Here it finally is. I can't believe I got to write about one of my passions in this way. Though I love rally, getting the technicalities right was rough but I researched as much as I could on it so it feels like the real thing, though there might be some minor inaccuracies, not really affecting the story.

This one has been in the works for a good period of time and though this first chapter is short and fast-paced, there's so much more coming. Trust the process cause god knows I do. I hope I can make Naozumi justice and I can't wait for you to read the next ones. Enjoy lovelies.

Now Playing: Edge of Seventeen - Wuki

Next Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

It's not about how fast you go.

It's about how long you go fast.

Fast like-

A knock reverberated against your helmet, interrupting the pre-race mantra before you even finished reciting it, bringing you back to the chaos prior to the race start.

Chaos you wanted to avoid at all costs.

Blinking your eyes open, you took in the smell of burnt rubber and the atmosphere, fully packed with the deafening roars of the crowds in the stands soaring over the music heard all the way to your station. Another voice joined in the noise, demanding your attention.

"Raiko, are you ready?"

Letting out an exasperated breath, you waved off whoever spoke to you and closed your eyes again.

"Give me a minute, will you?"

Okay, where was I?

It's not about how fast you go-

A drilling noise came from your right, annoying the living daylights out of you.

Ah, fuck it. Since we keep getting interrupted...

How about I tell you a little bit about me.

Name's Raiko Suruki.

Yes, that Suruki. Here we go again.

I'm the daughter of the famed Hiro Suruki, five times Japan World Rally Championship winner, consecutively if I may add.

Proud podium sitter for thousands of times.

Also kind of a living legend of the primetime of the rally world.

The same Hiro Suruki that started one of the best teams in the history of Japanese rally, snatching six more titles under his directory. WRC'S Golden Boy.

After his personal fifth title, he decided he wanted something more. Something that would fulfill him, beside his love for driving at the most insane speeds known to man and having his first and only child - that's me, in case you didn't know.

Anyway, without any second thoughts or doubts, he retired from the sport out of nowhere, changing the fireproofs for the laid-back team principal shirt and a cheap very 'dad' baseball cap. At barely 35 years of age, he took the biggest leap of faith of his life and Suruki Racing was born out of fuel and passion for rally.

He poured everything he had into the team and built it from scratch, taking it so high in his prime that everyone wanted a piece of it. Be it driving in a seat for the team, changing parts as a mechanic or simply having shares in it.

It was basically the shit. The pinnacle of rally in the whole of Japan.

The team became a national sensation. So many influential people, from mere businessmen to politicians, even foreigners were so interested in it and helping it expand. It genuinely felt like the only way for him was up, flying like a rocket towards the legends' hall of fame.

It went like that for a while. He was beaming with happiness, unable to understand where all that luck came from. But like everything good, it didn't last. Once he started to question it all, it was like a switch flipped inwards and it all fell to ruins.

Everything started going wrong.

All of a sudden, the cars started missing parts the night before races. They had engine failures mid-race in almost every stage, followed by DNF's on every scoreboard.

And those aren't even the most shocking things that happened. You name the disaster and it definitely happened to Suruki Racing at one point. Disastrous, life-changing, career-ending type of things.

The mess piled up more and more and it showed despite dad's efforts to stay afloat.

Contract deals with sponsors started falling through, losing funding for a lot of parts and investments in equipment. Then the drivers got fed up with the constant failed races and blamed the car or the team if they felt like it. They terminated their contracts way before their terms were up under the pretense that they wanted different things... which were not related to Suruki Racing. The mechanics chose to stay, well, a few of them anyways, but it wasn't enough.

The team ripped at the seams and slowly but surely ran into the ground and dad couldn't find at least one reason why it happened.

It was like a curse you couldn't get rid of and I saw it happen first-hand.

The late nights he would spend in the garage trying new parts that kept failing with every test on the car. The way he would go as low as begging the drivers to come back offering them money he didn't have because no driver, rookie or experienced, didn't even bat an eye once the name of the team was mentioned.

Lost, penniless and with a heavy heart, he had to watch the one thing he loved the most on earth rust little by little, no matter what he would do to prevent it.

Mom called it karma for his reckless racing days because as talented as he was, the road forgives no one. That you can be God's favourite and still lose everything. And he didn't want to understand that. He never did.

I was too young to help back then. Too young to understand what Suruki Racing meant to him. Too young to do the only thing I could to save it.

Until now.

So, let's try that again, shall we?

Name's Rai Suruki, driver for Suruki Racing 2.0.

Another knock to your helmet, echoing in your head louder than the first, brought you back to the real world for good this time. Mechanics rushed around you to finish the set up on the car before you were called up to take your spot in front of the race marshal, which from a quick glance at the scoreboard would be soon.

Looking to your left, you were met with a set of dull brown eyes, messy jet black hair, a funky moustache and an extremely creased forehead for his middle age, all belonging to your co-driver, Don Tanaka. He's another legend of the sport.

Former training coach for some of the current biggest teams in the WRC, with a CV of experiences surpassing most people that have been in rally for longer. On top of all that, he is an even bigger friend of your father's. When he called him up asking for an old favour to train you, he couldn't say no.

But if it was up to commenting, you'd say he was one of the biggest fools for giving up a lavish salary with so many perks for one favour, especially for your old fart of a father.

Driving with him was great, but training with him was hell on Earth.

"I was doing my mantra," you reasoned, trying to get him off your case.

"Your mantra sucks."

He is an absolute joy to be around, isn't he?

"Well," you turned to him in your seat with a tight-lipped smile, "you're the one choosing to be co-driver to a young adult at your ripe age of 40. If I was you I would've picked something more calming, like gardening."

Bringing his hand to his chin in thinking, he sat in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"That doesn't sound so bad right now," he went on trying to push your buttons.

"Oh, shush," you waved him off, turning back to the wheel.

If there was one thing he liked doing, it was keeping you in check by poking fun at you. He was like that one uncle you could always go to with your secrets or to ask for extra pocket money, but in return he liked to tease the fuck out of you for it. Every. Single. Time.

As much as you hated his antics, you did kind of owe him a lot. He was the one who caught your talent for racing early on, back when you would drive plastic mini cars made from scraps around the team garage like you had years of experience. A few drifting maneuvers around old tires done like a pro at the cool age of 8, and he was sold on you and your potential.

Amongst all the teasing and the pain of having to train like a man, you've spent enough time with him to know you could count on him for literally anything. He was the best co-driver you could ask for and you wouldn't want anyone else in that seat directing your fate for the world.

He knew what it took to annoy you greatly in order to deliver on the dirt track and prove yourself. Especially now, since you were the only woman on highly occupied male territory.

Racing is a man's world. With as many female advancements in motorsport as there were today, the majority of the community was still not convinced that a woman could drive better than a man or even compete alongside a whole grid of their species. They can regard you, acknowledge your existence, but they would never accept you.

Your father knew your entry to the championship would stir up a lot of unwanted attention, besides the fact that he was basically reviving a cursed team and you happened to be the poster face for it this time around. It sounded like a catastrophe in the making.

Frankly, you were ecstatic to get to drive an actual race car outside of the junior series and helping the team get back to its rightful place, restoring its deserved glory. But you knew it wasn't going to be easy work. Especially, since public enemy number one - the press - was going to try and tear you to sparkly shreds for a lot of reasons. An attack that they started before any official information was out.

A few months ago, when the announcement of Suruki Racing's comeback after ten years of inactivity hit the WRC, the media had a field day with it.

They criticized your father for being a nutjob that didn't know when to quit. They smeared Don Tanaka's name like he didn't make most of the drivers currently selling their dying papers. They even tried to get paid scoops from anyone involved with the team in the slightest.

But the team had one wildcard left to play before pulling the curtains for good and giving them the satisfaction that they ruined it.

You.

The press didn't know about you. No one in the other teams knew about you. Thanks to your father's extremely private life, no one even knew of your existence.

The only people that did were your team in the garage, from the mechanics to your PR agent.

Even walking into the circuit grounds this morning, long hair down over your shoulders, sporting the team gear in plain sight, no one batted an eye at you. Even if they did, they would think you were involved with technical or marketing - though even that was a rarity in this universe - or worse, just another groupie looking to get one of the drivers under your hood.

Your father wanted to give everyone a show they'll never forget by having you drive the first race in the calendar without a proper introduction. No car reveal. No interviews. No pre-race press conference. Just a car and its driver.

This way they would judge your driving before they actually got to judge you for being a woman at the wheel of a three hundred horsepower beast. He trusted you and your judgement on the track far more than the lousy press setting you up for fail. They would get a proper car show and speech after the race anyway.

It was out of the ordinary but that kinda summed up Hiro Suruki and his bipolar personality.

The distorted sound of a megaphone, followed by the voice of the race marshal called you to the start line.

"Car 7, Rai Suruki for Suruki Racing, you're up next!"

You could already see everyone turning their eyes to your station, booming cheers going quiet, turning into sharp murmurs.

Time to get this show going.

Rolling up your windows to block the world, you put the car in gear and drove to the start line, waiting for the green light. Looking out at the lines in the road ahead of you spotting the first hazard ahead, the nerves climbed up your spine faster than your engine could pump the pistons for pressure.

You prepared for this for most of your life, but if you were being honest, it all got a little too real now, sitting with your foot hovering above the gas pedal ahead of the moment that could make or break your career before it even started. The very moment that could be a step forward to restoring your father's name, getting the team back on track in a new age of rally racing. The moment for a change.

No pressure, right?

"Raiko," your co-driver called your name, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the road, gloved fingers tightening on top of the wheel with a small snap. "Do you remember the course?"

"Yes."

"Good. All set?"

"I think so."

"Raiko, look at me."

"You're not my style."

"Raiko," his voice turned more serious and deep with warning. With another sigh into the small, cramped space for breathing your helmet provided, you turned to him.

"You've got this. Let's prove everyone wrong."

He was right.

Let's prove everyone wrong.

The race marshal started the countdown, walking from the front of your car to the side, each number in the count descending with your nerves. You loosened the hold on the wheel, stretched your legs to the pedals and let out a deep breath.

"3."

It's not about how fast you go.

"2."

It's about how long you go fast.

"1."

Fast like lightning.

"GO!"

A soon as the lights went green, you hit the throttle and took off into the dirt, raising the dust behind you. You skidded off to the side a little due to the gravel but you got control of it before anyone could notice.

Tokai was a pretty difficult course to rally depending on which stages got picked for the day. More forest terrain gave way to hard roads, receding in wheel control, gaining insane suspension pressure. This one was more of an open valley terrain, which was a bit safer, but the later you got the okay to race, the more dust and gravel from other drivers would pile up in front of you, making visibility dangerously low. The corners were way too tight and one second off from Tanaka's directions or a mishap of your footing could cost you and put your car on the sidelines.

"5 left over crest," Tanaka paced you for the upcoming hill and you prepared to release the throttle.

"1 left 100."

Wheels back on the ground, you resumed pressing the pedal as a hairpin portion came into view. The cloud of dust in front of you was chalky and you had to get through it before it raised higher. Putting the car in second gear, you got ready for the drift portion.

You had to be extra careful here. The mechanic in chief told you to go easy as the rear could send you into oversteer, throwing off the balance of the car and fuck up the race completely.

Listening to your gut, you waited for the right time then tapped the brake, cut the wheels and pressed the throttle, sliding across the portion. Loud cheers and whistles erupted as the crowd in the stands got up to watch you complete a perfect drift.

"3 right don't cut."

Reduce pace and prepare for a possible road hazard.

You slowed down and sure enough a bump in the road came up. If you missed that one and took it at 120 kmph, it would've projected you off the track, crashing the car hard into the rocky wall like a cereal box. Thankfully, you swerved around it, feeling the car lift off the ground on the left for a bit before it fell back down.

"6 right very long."

Hard left into a tight corner.

"Cut 8 left."

Tight corner requiring you to follow a straight line in the curb.

This was the last and worst corner on the track. You were lucky it didn't rain because this is where your car can skid off into the stands. You caught the straight line pretty fast, cutting a few seconds off your lap time without slowing down.

Following the rest of Tanaka's directions and focusing on the rest of the road, the race finished before you knew it. You liked the state you were in as you drove, mind clear of everything else because as soon as the adrenaline in your body decreased, your brain got bombarded by all kinds of issues.

Did I push the new suspensions too hard? God, I hope I didn't scratch the rear in the hairpin. Was my timing too off on that last corner? I should've practiced it more.

Driving back to your team's station, you sent all those worries at the back of your head and got out to watch the screen showing the score board just as it updated to display the new track times since you were the last to go.

1. Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing Academy - 1.23.40

2. Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory - 1.23.59

3. Rai Suruki - Suruki Racing - 1.24.25

"WE BAGGED THIRD PLACE?!" you yelled throwing off your helmet onto the car seat.

"WE SURE DID," Tanaka high fived you, beaming with energy just like you.

"That's 15 points on the first stage! Well done, lightning strike," he ruffled your hair as you snickered, nose scrunching up with a smile at the gesture you were already accustomed to.

"The car held up a lot better today than in testing. Maybe we lifted the curse," you wiggled your eyebrows at him at which he flicked your forehead. "Ow, what did you do that for?"

"Don't jinx it. We still have two more stages to go."

"But-"

Before you could say anything else, you were interrupted by angry shouting coming from the station next to you.

"I told you to not touch the third gear," yelled a strained voice.

You walked to the side of your station, peeking your head by the team banner, and watched the heated exchange between one of the drivers and his mechanic. Your eyes wandered to the car sitting in the middle, not one hand touching it for the regular post-race check up. From the different strokes of sky blue layered over stark white, the red and blue sponsor stickers and the carbon spoiler, you recognized it to be Spica Racing's.

"It doesn't matter now," shouted another voice, so annoyed and sure of themselves as if they owned the place. "I got a good lap record this time."

"What would you do if you had to retire in the middle of the race?" shot the mechanic, chastising the driver for being careless.

He got up in his face, towering over him though the other was much taller than him.

"We won't win if I don't attack!" he yelled back, throwing his hand in the air to make a point. "The moment I think of being scared I will lose. I won't make that mistake. So just do your job and fix the car."

With that final remark, he rounded the car to walk away from the station until he noticed you in the corner, now standing in full sight just at the line between your stations.

Quickly replacing the scowl on his face with what was probably his natural smirk, he came to you, stopping short of the barrier separating you.

"I don't do autographs, but for you I can do more than that," he added a daring wink, flashing his cocky smile at you.

Ew.

Taking a small step back hoping his vibes wouldn't envelop you, you uncrossed your arms from your chest and lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I don't want your autograph."

Taken aback at your response, he backed up slightly too and looked you up and down, taking in your deep blue and dark gold team fireproofs and the suit tied messily around your waist. The old, way out of fashion colours seemed to ring a bell.

"Suruki Racing...," he started doubtful, "the shithole that revived from the ashes? Are you a mechanic, a co-driver or something for them? If you are, why don't you jump ships? I wouldn't mind having you on my team instead," he finished his speech of intent with another shit-eating grin.

Who the fuck was this guy?

The audacity that wafted off him must definitely make him popular with the ladies.

"I don't think we've met before," you extended your hand out to him, curt and polite, like a normal person would do, introducing yourself.

"Rai Suruki, driver for Suruki Racing," emphasizing your role in the team so he got it through his head that you weren't some bimbo.

If you were, you'd make sure your fist decorated his face in pretty red tones before anything else.

He straightened back, smirk gone from his face in all sense of the word. It got replaced by some kind of curiosity. Looking between you and your palm hanging in the air he looked confused to say the least. He's heard about female racers before and seen some working in technical around the place, he's just never seen one stand against him on track.

Tired of being polite to someone who obviously has never heard about manners, you were about to retract your extended hand when he caught it in a firm grip and pulled it towards him, just holding it instead of shaking it. The move sent you forwards, almost barreling into him when your reaction response kicked in to steel you a safe distance away.

Maybe Tanaka's intense survival program pays off sometimes.

"So," he began and you wondered if he was about to say something intelligent or spew more shit with that mouth of his. He decided to choose the latter. "You're the one driving the Beetle dupe right there?"

Eh, come again?

Your eyes widened at him, looking at where his finger was pointed to confirm that he was pointing at your car and not anywhere else, then you whirled your head back at him appalled.

"B-Beetle dupe?!"

"I thought you were a guy."

Wouldn't be the first time I heard that one.

You took your hand back from his hold, wiping it on the sleeves of the suit hanging on your hips in the hopes that it would wipe off the disgust you were feeling too. It didn't but it was worth a try.

"It's the name," you replied through gritted teeth.

He backed up some more to scan you again, though more attentively this time, like you were some kind of illegality, cooked up from the pits of his imagination. You gave him your best front, hardening your jaw and rolling your shoulders backwards, proving you were more than a pair of boobs and a vagina, which was apparently his deranged first impression of you.

You deserved to be here. No amount of stares from the male specimen, surprised or with sinful intentions, could ever make you back down from this. This was yours to take on. No man could take this from you. Not him anyway.

So, you stared him down too, trying to find something else beside the extreme big dick energy and unsurmountable lack of scruples surrounding him. Struggling to see anything else but some disdain in the way he crossed his arms over his broad chest, a rich prick attitude from how he shifted on his legs like the world owed him golden lingos every time he breathed, and some leftover rage from the screaming match with his mechanic still present in the tick of his jaw, you let your eyes meet his own in conclusion of your very own analysis.

Yeah, there's nothing else in there. An ambulant douchebag. Just like I thought.

Flashing cameras were suddenly thrown in your faces, interrupting the intense stare-down between you. The press and some people, potentially fans of other teams by their t-shirts, surrounded you from every corner of the plastic barrier around the two stations, pushing each other over the race marshals that tried their hardest to keep them away. It wasn't long until they pushed over the barrier.

Too absorbed in the chaos, you didn't notice he leaned down to your ear but when you did, you stilled in your shoes, all blood draining into your pounding stomach. He spoke close and low, so only you could hear his words.

"Don't get too comfortable around here, rookie," he whispered, hot breath hitting the shell of your ear making shivers run down your extremely clothed spine. "Let's see how long you last in here because this season might just be your first and last."

Pulling away with another one of his smirks that were starting to get on your nerves, he regarded you once more before he walked off in amusement to his cool-down room, giving you a full view of his broad back.

Oh, just you wait -

A reporter shoved into the human barrier of orange and green safety vests reaching the railing, yanking it back and forth repeatedly until the poor plastic seal broke off, letting everyone else pool in around you.

Uh-oh. This wasn't good.

They packed around you like wolves on their prey, all shouting different things at you while shoving their big cameras, recording devices and phones in your face. The flashes blinded you, turning the world white and too bright for it to be natural light from the clouded sky above.

Your hands shot up on instinct to cover your eyes from the flaring lights as your ears focused on filtering through the blaring sounds of camera clicks and voices. Then the countless questions registered clear as day, hitting you like a truck at full speed.

"Are you Rai Suruki, daughter of Hiro Suruki?"

"Where did your father get the money to restart the team?"

"Is your car even going to last a season?"

"Do you consider yourself a challenge to the rest of the drivers?"

I guess that was it for mystery, dad.

Some of the other teams passed by the ruckus, sparing quick judgmental glances or sending disgusting sneers your way like that was the way they initiated your welcome ceremony at the gates of the jungle.

If this was any other series, you would've been so welcomed by the rest of the grid and treated somewhat better by the media and the fans. But this was the World Rally Championships.

Driving was dirty.

Talk was filthy, full of disrespect and unspoken trials of envy between each driver.

The press competed to see who would get your head on a pike first and parade it as the story of the century.

Respect was fought for, not earned.

It was a different game. One where you needed to play even if you didn't want to so in turn you wouldn't get played. Survival of the fittest truly.

You steeled your gaze, waving the reporters off and digging a hole through the crowd, successfully escaping away to your pit crew. Helping with packing up bits and pieces and taking your own stuff, you headed back to your team quarters, aware of the intensifying stares belonging to the rest of the teams still around their stations, talking about the first day in this season's calendar being an interesting one.

You had a feeling you and the team were the hot topic of conversation since you could feel their eyes searing deep holes into your back, burning hotter and doing more damage than flame-lit arrows aimed straight at you ever could. Tanaka wrapped an arm around you giving you his curled moustache smile, sympathizing with you.

Looking up at the sky darkening in mauve and pink, you let a small smile grace your lips. At least today was done. Your rally racing career has officially started. The team was back in business.

However, this first stage was just one of the many challenges still to come. Who knew what else was on the way?

As you trudged on the warm asphalt, warmed by the mid-spring warmth of March, there was one thing you knew for sure.

This is gonna be a long season.

Next

Thank you for reading :) As always leave a like, comment or reblog!

[lilysbookshelf987]

New camper: Percy Jackson x reader (daughter of apollo)

A/n: thank you so much for giving this a read! This is my first time writing for the PJO universe so let me know if you like it! Requests are open! No NSFW or Smut! Enjoy

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

"Good morning" Percy said tiredly, greeting his best friend Grover at the dining pavilion, taking a seat next to him.

"Morning" Grover replied, "hey did you see Annabeth on your way here? She's usually the first one here and I haven't seen her yet"

As if almost on cue she was walking towards the boys, an excited smirk painted across her face.

"Camp Half-Blood has a new camper!"

"What?!" replied Percy

"She showed up late last night, all alone. Chiron told me she had been hurt pretty badly but he took her into the infirmary and gave her some Ambrosia"

"She took it? So, she's definitely a half-blood?" Percy asked

"Yep! We should be meeting her later today" Annabeth was ecstatic, she loved new campers!

--time skip--

As the day went on there was still no sight of the new camper. Word had made its way around camp and people began to take their guesses as to who was her parent.

"I hope she's in our cabin!" A child of Aphrodite had said

"No! I bet she HAS to be in ours! Showing up without a Satyr by her side means she's a warrior"an Ares kid chimed

"As long as she's not in ours I dont care" a tired looking Hermes kid said.

It was almost dinner time when Chiron had found Percy, sparring with someone from the Ares cabin.

"Percy can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Yeah sure" he said, removing his helmet and recapping his sword.

"Im sure you've heard we've had a new camper join us."

"Yeah it's all over camp" he replied

"Ah yes. Well let's say she hasn't been thrilled to learn about her new family. Reminds me a lot of you when you first came here"

Percy thought back to his first few days at camp. He was confused, scared, angry, and very much overwhelmed.

"I was wondering if you could help ease her mind by speaking to her. You understand what she's feeling better than I can."

"And im not half horse" Percy smiled

"Yes there is that" Chiron chuckled

"Alright I want to meet her!" Percy agreed. He really did want to help, but he also knew how jealous Annabeth would be that he met her first. The two walked into the big house and there she was, staring down at her feet.

"Y/N, this is Percy, son of Poseidon. Percy this is Y/N. I'm sure you two will get long swimmingly" Chiron chuckled at his own joke, "I will give you two some privacy" with that, he left the room. Leaving the two teenagers alone.

An awkward silence filled the room, when finally Y/N broke the silence.

"Son of Poseidon, huh?" she asked

"That's me" he smiled, proud of the title he held.

"That's crazy, the gods don't exist!"

"They do exist. I know it all feels a bit insane at first but-"

"A bit?! My whole life i've had these things coming after me and I didn't understand why. I thought I was insane and seeing things, but apparently that's normal?! And my dad? The reason he's neglected me my whole life was because he was a god?! There's just no way"

"Hey, it's gonna be ok. I know how you feel. I felt like that when I first got here. All my life my dad wasn't someone I had thought about much because I had my mom, and thats all I needed. Then I find out that he's now the most important thing in my life? I had so many emotions, but if you just give this place a chance? I promise everything gets a lot less scary"

This seem to get to the girl. She started to tear up.

"Ok, i'll try." she whispered

"I'll show you around and it'll all be ok, I promise."

The two made their way around camp, Y/N was mostly silent. "The sun is so warm here, it's not like that where I'm from"

"Everything is a little bit stronger here."

"I can tell" she smiled

"So, do you have any idea who your dad might be?" Percy asked, careful not to poke at the sensitive subject.

"I think but I'm not sure. My mom used to talk about Apollo, a way she never did about other Gods"

"Ok then...then we have to find a way for him to see you! If he see's you, he'll claim you!"

"Yeah but how?"

"Gods dont claim you because they feel like it, you have to work for it" Annabeth said, inviting herself to the conversation.

"Y/N this is Annabeth, daughter of Athena"

"Hey" Y/n said

"Percy have you taken her to the archery field? Apollo kids thrive there"

"No I didn't"

"Seaweed brain c'mon!" Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Lets go" she led the two there and put a bow and arrow in Y/N's hands. The girl had fired it easily and hit the bullseye.

"Beginners luck?" y/n asked

"Go again" Chiron said, but before she could something came flying down at her, she shot it down easily.

"That could've killed us" Percy said, mouth agape, "and you shot it down with ease!" he said

"Look!" One of the campers said

Y/N was becoming engulfed in a bright light and a sun appeared over her head. She was now an official resident of cabin 7

[oh-saints]

anything with max please! but please make it happy ending?

taking a little break from footballers, shall we?

you

despite all the success and achievements max verstappen has secured in his bag, there's still one thing he wishes to have but knows he can't.

max verstappen x doctor!reader

note: this is inspired by one of the scene from one of my favourite kdrama; hospital playlist (s1; 2020). i hope i do the drama some justice for its amazing rollercoaster ride (#spoiler) so max can be humbled for a minute. but this time, i happen to write during my family trip so this is not proof-read yet.

when the name of his very bestfriend popped up, max couldn't hold back from smiling.

he'd previously told her that he's coming back tonight and asked if she was free for a catch up session. due to the nature of their jobs, the two friends couldn't see each other as much as they'd love to.

if he had his way, she wouldn't be working as hard as she is now. nothing in this world can make max's life better—and this was saying a lot when he's achieved everything earthly possible—than to have her at every race. win or lose, max knows there's always someone waiting on him to cross the finish line, as long as he's safe and sound.

nobody ever asks that of him. it's always wins, titles. no matter the cost, no matter the consequence of this very dangerous sport.

"hi—"

"can you come over tonight?"

max's heart immediately took a free dive.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

"so sorry i called you very late into the night,"

she didn't let him express how much he'd missed seeing her. as soon as she opened the door, she strode back inside of her apartment. her hands immediately reached for the white pristine coat hanging on the wall as she passed by.

"i got a call from the hospital but my nanny's not picking up,"

max was still silent. they'd fallen into the habit of her saying the same thing and he'd remembered them all by now. after this, she'd cited her usual justification. "sorry, i forgot telling you about it because there's always someone calling me when i want to do that."

"sorry, i forgot to tell you—"

"i know, i understand," and max truly does. with how little monaco is, he understands she becomes a well-sought surgeon here. he's actually rather proud, if anything. "go save the world."

she looked up at him from behind the kitchen counter, and max swore she looked dashing as ever, with the gentle yellow lighting highlighting her features. she is one of the rare kind, one who never needs an elaborative piece of clothing to enhance her beauty. she is inner beauty personified—at least per max's standard, but supposedly it says a lot because max isn't kidding when he said he'd seen the bests of the world.

"thank you, max. you don't know how grateful i am of you," and that smile right there, radiating gentleness and calmness and pure yet gratitude, is the very reason why he always heeds to her whims. "but my kid's burning right now so can you do things i've listed down here while i'm gone?"

"sure."

there went another of max's resolution, even before he knows what she'd asked of him. he's so puny in her hands that his father once gaslighted him with her as a bait. so different to the cold, ruthless max verstappen everyone labels him to be.

after running through everything on the list together and making sure max understood them once more, for she wouldn't be able to be contacted for at least the next 3 hours, she finally put her arms to the coat hanging on her shoulder proudly. she reached for her bag, and when she was about to pick up the car keys, max halted her hand.

"please use taxi," he said, and she wondered why. "for my sanity sake, knowing you'll make it safe there."

she wanted to argue that there was no guarantee she'd make it safe with a taxi, no different than driving on her own, but she nodded wordlessly. she'd asked max to come down here in short notice, not long after he told her he was in town and only to make him babysit her kid, but he'd come with no question asked. taking taxi was the least she could do for him.

it seemed like the kid knew she left their home, for the cry ensued not long after, like a chick looking for the hen. thankfully it wasn't max's first rodeo, more over when his girlfriend has her kid of her own.

unfortunately.

"hey, hey," he cooed gently, and the little one scratched the teary eyes, crying stopped at the sight of max. he was always the favourite in this household, always coming here with something in his hands the kid doesn't know it exists. toys, actions figures, you name it. "are you okay?"

"maxie?" suddenly he remembered his sister's comment about his father instinct spiking whenever this particular kid was around. he'd even let them call him by his first name, no specific title else needed. so unlike him, when he taught leo and luka to call him by "oom maxie" or uncle maxie in dutch.

"thirsty or hungry, schatje?" max immediately picked up the split version of his best friend, and the feeling of being hugged back affectionately by his best friend's entire world contended the best feeling in the world for him. it was as if the little treasure was trying to get a hold of him entirely with their little arms and hands, like he meant the world for them.

like he is the world to them as much as the kid means the world to him. oh, if only they knew...

the kid passionately shook their head as soon as they tucked themselves comfortably against the crook of his neck. max paced back and forth for them, in hope his bouncy steps would calm them down.

"alright, lieve. you let me know when you do, okay?"

but he was only met by soft snores.

he peered down at his best friend's entire world, the axis to her existence, the reason behind her juggling her personal and professional world just to make sure they get only the best of both worlds. for that alone, max had already loved the kid like his own.

and he'd love to have them as his own, providing everything the kid's heart desire, knowing he could give them everything of it at a heartbeat. knowing he could give them what they deserve, after being deprived of a proper, fatherly love for so long.

if only she let him. if only she saw him as one.

but max knew it all boiled down to him. if only he'd denied her desire to get married to that good-for-nothing that turned out to be a cheating bastard she called her ex-husband, she wouldn't have to suffer everything of this on her own. the child didn't have to go through all the mess life would bring to someone so early in their age.

it pained him that he never let out the "marry me instead" that was poking the tip of his tongue when she'd asked you to be her men of honour. it hurt max verstappen to the point of no return, more than being robbed a championship win, that he could've had the smart kid with her instead from a long time ago, and a life he'd always dreamed of building.

with her, and no one else.

because he knew that whatever he was feeling right now, as he was holding her entire life in the home she built so hard despite the single-mother stigma, is the closest thing to right in this life that feels so wrong.

not even his multiple championship titles he had in his bag. not even the feeling of winning a race so many he'd grown accustomed to. per max verstappen's standard, that was given; with so much hard work he'd been putting since he could walk, thanks to his father.

his phone dinged, breaking his train of thought. it was the alarm that he'd set up to remind him of the checklist she'd made for him. the sound stirred the child in their sleep, and as they noticed him walking away from the room, they whined, "please stay, maxie."

like the effect of the mother had on him, he succumbed to the whim. but good lord, my goodness, there had never been something as liberating as that. it was a paradoxic feeling where you don't feel weak as you surrender yourself, instead it grew so much on him that someone needed him. it feels so damn good to be needed by someone, his heart soared so high as the revelation hit him.

maybe that was what max verstappen had been yearning for.

that one piece in his life that anyone around him didn't know how to fill the void. a home to go back to, he thought, as he fell asleep in such a ridiculous position to fit the crib's size.

but due to his lightning reflex towards every sound and movement around him, max jolted up when he heard a click of the door closing. it was small; he deducted it wasn't mean to be disturbing.

that could only be her checking up on him.

the kid was now drenched in sweat in his embrace, so he decided to change the pajamas first before heading out of the nursery. he did it as fast as he could because he knew she was making his favourite mushroom soup outside from the smell of it.

the pang on his chest came back as he got out of the child's room, only to be met by his best friend's back from the kitchen, busy scooping her signature delicacy to a bowl matching the set only designated for her and her child—his bowl—because it looked so domestic. they looked so domestic like this. they looked like they'd make a great family.

yes, it wasn't the first time they did this, but that was what made it hurt all the same everytime he came over.

"how was the surgery?"

just in time when she turned her body to him. she smiled immediately, both at the sight of a disheveled max and at the question thrown at her. max looked so bulky in the house full of her delicate touch, so different yet not out of touch, for his question brought warmth to her chest.

it'd been a while since someone had asked the question—the simplest question of asking how she'd been holding up at work—that didn't come out from her child's mouth. from someone who actually knew how hard it was to make a living. from someone who was genuinely interested at what she did. from someone all of the above.

"got a bleeding out of hand but all's good now," she'd spare the bloody detail later. right now, she just wanted to bask how peaceful their rhythms are as the f1 winner took a seat on the other end of the kitchen counter. "i hope my kid's not a hassle for you."

"you and your kid can never be a hassle to me," max made sure to stare down at her as he replied her, wanting her to know he wasn't kidding. "i love spending time with you two."

and it scared her deep down to see max so set on what he said. she could only hope he wasn't implying anything else behind his words, for she was afraid it would bring unattained hope to her heart.

despite her strong display she'd paraded around the town, she is only a human with two hands and feet and a heart. and she is a woman, first and foremost, who was once in love in max verstappen.

the real max verstappen before all the achievements, the fame, the titles. when max verstappen had eyes only for the glory, and never hungry for anything else.

but the one-sided journey could be so lonely, she never realised that. it resulted her finding love in a hopeless place. at least that was was she thought, love, until she discovered her ex was cheating with one of her fellow doctors.

so she knew she had to extinguish every kind of sparks before it grew stronger. especially now, where every of her decision doesn't only affect her, but her child also.

"spend your time for something else, max," she smiled bitterly now and max already hated whatever her mind fed her just seconds ago. "tell me, what's your favourite thing to do in your spare time? going for a vacation?"

"whatever it is we're doing now," max replied, soup still untouched. it frightened her that the eyes were not just set anymore; she'd recognised that winning determination anywhere. "wanna know why?"

she sat down, eyes trying to hold his, ignoring the fluttering feeling inside of her and set her mind to simply wanting to know the words he had in mind. max took it as an invitation to might as well break it down.

"because it's you. it's always been you."

[sideblog-hazbin-hotel-fics]

The Announcement of Hell's Spare

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Ship: Lucifer/Alastor Warning: Mpreg prompt, someone wanted Charlie to have a baby sibling via Luce getting knocked up Alastor.

****

"You've been away, Your Majesty," Alastor greeted in an accusatory manner when he finally saw Lucifer enter the hotel. Though no one dared to ask him, Alastor has obsessively kept track of how long it's been since the last time Lucifer's been at the hotel. 

"I haven't been feeling well..." 

"...you're an angel. King of Hell. You can't be ill."

"Not normally, no."

"Were you hurt? Has Heaven been bothering you?" Alastor demanded. Even if he wasn't proud of how his battle went, didn't mean he wasn't invested in the fight still. Now more than ever since his thing with Lucifer has become what it has. Thinking about Lucifer getting into some sort of trouble on his own away from everyone made his blood boil. Lucifer wasn't as permanent of a fixture at the hotel as the rest of them now were. Lucifer had responsibilities and a palace that was deeply rooted in enchanted power that was drool-worthy. For as many Sinners who would fall to Lucifer's feet, there were also those stupid or bold or angry enough to try and harm him at a chance of bettering their situation. 

"No, not like that. If anything, if I'm ill it's your fault!" 

"My fault? However is that it my fault?" 

"Because when I said I'm ill, I meant I'm pregnant!" Lucifer hissed. 

"...what now?" 

Lucifer sighed, far too exhausted to deal with Alastor's shock. He wasn't sure how the demon would react to it, but he was prepared to be a single father. He's had enough practice of it already with Charlie after his and Lilith's split. So he told Alastor the facts, "I felt strange. It's been a good two hundred years since it happened, so it's been a while, but then it became familiar. I did a few tests and...it's positive. I'm expecting." 

"A child?"

"Yes."

"Our child?" 

Lucifer sort of expected a form of this question. Though he expected Alastor to call it just his, or ask if Lucifer was sure it was Alastor's at all. Yet, the deer demon was calling it their child. "Yes." 

"...are there royal protocols in place? Will it be a royal? Or will it just be known as a bastard?" 

"My child will not be a bastard!" 

"...did you just ask me to marry you?" 

"..." Lucifer felt his face heat up at that. Regaining his composure, he cleared his throat and said, "I meant to say...this child will have the same title and perks as Charlie did. They will be a Morningstar. Prince or Princess of Hell." 

"And me?" 

"...I won't force you to do anything you don't want. I'm damned for giving Free Will and will maintain it as a vital part of who I am. You're free to do as you wish." 

"Then expect me to move into the palace."

"What?" 

"Unless you're planning on moving more permanently into the hotel. We can work things around and have our rooms connected. Expand to make room for the child. At first, they won't need much, but they will need their space." 

"You're...not freaking out?" 

"I'm surprised. But you're not a liar, my dear. If this was just another attempt at bantering with me, this is not a topic you'd play with. There's no reason for you to say you are with child unless it's true. I'm also very aware of how and when this might have happened."

"Right. So. I'm pregnant. It's yours. And we're keeping it."

"And raising it. Together." 

"Right."

"...do you want me to be the one to tell darling Charlie she's going to be an older sister?"

"Please."

****

"Holy fuck, don't do that!" Lucifer cried out when he woke up and found Alastor hovering over him. 

"You didn't notice me come in. Nor feel I've been here for the last fifteen minutes."

"You were watching me sleep like some voyeuristic creep?" Lucifer deadpanned as he sat up properly and stretched a bit. 

Alastor took the chance to sit next to him. He was gripping his staff firmly if only to help resist the urge to reach out and either wrap his arm around Lucifer or maybe even place his hand over the belly. Their relationship was a lot more about heated moments and fun arguments escalating to situations neither of them really expected. 

"You're the king of Hell and are now with child. You should have more protection."

"I'm in my daughter's hotel. The only people in here are the people she trusts. And you," Lucifer stifled a yawn but also gave him a soft teasing smile. 

Alastor frowned," I'm serious. I could have killed you." 

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, dearheart." 

"Lucifer." 

It was part of their game to call each other names. Insults that have become almost terms of endearment. Actual names...showed seriousness. 

Lucifer sighed and turned to face Alastor properly, "A royal baby that's part angel, part...begrudgingly powerful overlord...takes a lot of energy. I get tired more easily. It's why I'm here. And not at the palace. When we rebuilt the hotel, I added extra layers of protection. It's not as safe as my palace, but it's safe enough for Charlie. And it's safe enough for this little one too."

"That still leaves you being...not to your usual strength," Alastor said quietly. There was a long pause before he dared to finally reach out and hold Lucifer's hand in his. "How dangerous is this for you?" 

"I...don't know. Hellborns aren't exactly rare. But this isn't the typical case. But let's not forget who I am, okay? I'll be fine." 

"Of course you will. Because let's not forget who I am. I'm going to take care of you. And you're going to let me." 

"Hey! I am still king! You can't tell me what to do!" 

"No, but I can tell Charlie you're not taking care of yourself and her puppy eyes will have you yielding in seconds." 

"Cheater."

"Hmm," Alastor only smiled. If that was cheating, it wasn't beneath him if it guaranteed making this easier for Lucifer.

****

"I need your help, if you have a moment."

Charlie literally dropped all the papers she had in her hands and rushed up to her dad, "Of course! What do you need? Is everything okay? Is it the baby?" 

Alastor telling her about the pregnancy had been...a thing. She went through a whole roller coaster of emotions that ranged from disbelief to panic to excitement to...plenty more. Once she processed that her father and Alastor had been more involved than she could ever imagine, she did go into a weird mourning stage in realizing that her old family she dreamed would one day magically heal and be what she dreamed was probably not going to happen, she began to accept the new reality. 

The responsibility she took upon herself in the attempt to help her people helped her have more insight. The people in her hotel were more than just a project. They were her friends, if not already family in her eyes and heart. 

And now she was going to be a big sister! 

It was still a secret, though Vaggie learned about it because she just needed someone to talk to! She understood why it wasn't something to talk openly about that went beyond how annoying gossip could be. 

Alastor also warned her about her dad being weakened by providing a lot of his strength to the baby. She saw it more since she was looking for it, but she wasn't the only one. Some were concerned something deadlier was going on that Lucifer was dealing with that they weren't privy to. 

"Whoa, there. Breathe, sweetie. Everything's fine. I'm fine, baby's fine, you're fine! We're all fine."

"We're all fine!" Charlie repeated. 

"Right. Now, look. We can't keep this a secret forever. I'm dreading the initial reactions but I'm preparing for it as best as I can. If anything, I can just go back to the palace until the birth." 

"Alastor's already kind of preparing for that anyway."

"He is?" 

"We've been talking," She informed him. 

"Huh. Okay. We'll talk more about that later. Before we go off on any more tangents, let me get to the point. This is Hell. Wedlock bullshit doesn't matter with us because why would it? Your sibling will be a prince or princess as much as you are. Title, perks, respect. All of it."

Charlie smiled, "Good."

"We are the royal family. When these things happen there are usually announcements and such. I don't know yet if Alastor will want all of Hell to know just yet his involvement, but you're my daughter, my heir, and their older sister. There may be an announcement I'll make once I start showing if I don't plan to keep inside, but once the baby is born, I want you to stand next to me as I present Hell to its second in line. Will you?"

"Of course!" 

"Good. And sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

"You can go ahead and tell anyone else in the hotel if you really want to."

"Oh thank you! Thank you, thank you, I have been trying so hard!"

"I know. And I appreciate it. But I can also see how hard it's been for you, so if it comes up...you can." 

Charlie hugged him in response. 

The next time he walked through the lobby, which was about an hour later, he felt everyone's eyes on him. 

He stared at all of them with an unimpressed expression, "Alastor will take the questions, not me." Then he turned around and made it back to his suite. 

****

"You want me to go back to the palace don't you?" Lucifer asked while he rested in Alastor's arms as they lay in his bed. 

"It's safer for you there."

"I hate being away from Charlie..."

"It won't be like last time. She'll visit more. We'll visit too when possible."

"We?" 

"You're not getting rid of me." 

Lucifer chuckled and smiled. Lifting his finger to one of his sharp teeth, he bit down hard enough to draw blood and then offered it to Alastor. The deer demon held Lucifer's hand before gently, and rather sensually, licking the dripping blood that ran down the digit before taking the tip of his finger into his mouth and suckling until the wound healed. Alastor pressed a kiss to the tip of the finger, and then the inner palm, and then kissed Lucifer's knuckles. "I'll miss how delicious you taste, darling..."

"Why would you miss it? Aren't you basically latching on and becoming my shadow?" 

"I'm not taking the literal life essence from you or our child," Alastor deadpanned. 

"Pft. Boo." 

"You want me to bite into you?" 

"...yeah. I like it. You do it well."

 Alastor cupped Lucifer's cheek and they stared into each other's eyes. The heat that's usually there was present, but also something new. Maybe something that has been there for a while but they're now willing to see. Alastor leaned in and kissed Lucifer. Gently at first, but it slowly turned into a make-out session that slowly became more hungry and passionate. 

When they pulled apart, they continued to steal kisses between shared pants of breath. 

"My, my your Majesty, we might be recreating our child's conception all over again." 

"Oh, there's no might about it dearheart."

****

"You asked about royal protocols. We usually present the latest heir together as a family. Charlie said she'd be with me...will you be there too? Or will you remain in the shadows?" He liked to bask in the post-glow bliss, but this was something that had been on his mind for a while. So though he felt fully sated and more than content, he turned his full focus and attention to Alastor. 

Alastor simply pulled Lucifer closer still until Lucifer was on top of him again. His possessiveness over the King of Hell has only grown and it was becoming harder to remain subtle about it. "No nightmare of Hell nor army of Heaven could keep me away, darling." 

[suzy-queued]

DVD Commentary: Out of Nowhere

I got a request from @doshiart for behind-the-scenes commentary from Out of Nowhere. @shamelessdvdcommentary

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc) 86,511 words, 15-chapters. I wrote it between November 2022 - January 2024.

What was the initial inspiration for your story? I love murder ballads. I love graphic novels. So when I saw the book In the Pines at my local library, I snatched it up. This book takes old murder ballads and turns them into short stories, told in graphic format. My favorite one was "Where the Wild Roses Grow," based on the Nick Cave song.

I took some very loose elements from this story: A secluded property, a guy escaping from prison, a person protecting their family's gold. The prisoner wooing the gold protector in order to get close enough to rob them. Doesn't that scream Gallavich?

In the murder ballad there's, well, murder. The prisoner dies by the end. Boy, was I tempted to do that in my story.

What was your favorite scene to write? In each story, there's a scene that pops in my head early on that I base the whole setup around. It's the one that I'm gleefully waiting to write. For this story, it was the "cleaning guns" scene in chapter 7, when the sexual tension is high and Ian tantalizes Mickey as he works.

How did you come up with the title? My favorite murder ballad of all time is "El Paso" by Marty Robbins. There's a line in that song, "From out of nowhere, Felina has found me."

The placeholder title was "Gallagher Gold."

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice? I made this note early on: "Ian has a high PHYSICAL IQ. Mickey has a high VISUAL IQ." I used that to make character decisions throughout. Ian was good with his body and his posture. He was good at carrying things and balancing things, climbing and shooting. Mickey was obsessive about patterns and puzzles and solving challenges.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this? Chapter 13, oh my god. That's the hardest thing I've ever written. I was dreading it for months. It's a tense culmination of everything the story has been building to: love, betrayal, physical and emotional pain. The land gets torn up, and so does their relationship. I overcame it by taking lots of deep breaths and writing small chunks every day. I made sure that every sentence was exactly what I wanted to convey, without letting the prose take its own (lazier) path.

Favorite line in the story? “I’m not a fucking Viper.”

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story? When I started this story, I was sure that I didn't want to do another long multi-chap fic. I outlined it as a 5-chapter short, maybe 30,000 words. Then the "what if" whispers started happening, and it grew to a full 15-chapter outline. Most of the chapters had very short descriptions. One was just "fun and games on the land." One was just "This wasn’t supposed to happen, Gallagher."

Other possible settings included: an abandoned church with a small cemetery, and old hospital, a forgotten amusement park. I wrote "somewhere old-timey that would have land."

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterization, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc) The art! I had so much fun with it. I based the style off the old Penguin classics, like the Grapes of Wrath cover below. (Where they had the little penguin, I put the double-triangle Viper tattoo). I'm also showing my concept sketch for chapter 1 art.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share? I hand-wrote the story first, and it filled two notebooks:

Here are some research shots on the land and the equipment:

I took this photo while I was working. Welcome to the inside of my brain:

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add? I was itching to dramatize more of Ian and Mickey's lives while they were apart. It would have been fun to have 5-6 chapters of them learning to be whole humans again. But ultimately, that wouldn't serve the story. I did a time jump instead.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc? The story is set in Fox River Grove. This entirely happened because @lalazeewrites introduced me to the town in their comments on Estate of Blood and Trust. So the events of EOBAT and OON are taking place in neighboring towns!

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote? @mzshko helped me figure out the best way to structure chapters 2 & 3. She was patient enough to read an alternate fully-written version of both chapters and tell me which option worked best.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story? Three months into writing this story, I stopped and did a self-analysis because it wasn't igniting. I wrote, "Could it be that I haven't put enough of myself into it?" So I re-evaluated and dug deeper and made it as personal as I could.

I can't emphasize enough how interwoven details of my own life were in this story. I helped my dad install that big aluminum gate in the woods. I used 5-gallon jugs of water to brush my teeth and sponges to bathe. I washed clothes by hand and cooked on a propane stove. I hauled and stacked logs from fallen trees. I had a love/hate relationship with my family's land and ached to be back in civilization, like Ian. My dad used to tell me bedtime stories about escaped prisoners (Mickey?!) roaming the woods and killing small children.

This story is a love letter to my dad, who was dying the entire time I was writing. He passed away in May of 2024.

This is open to all writers! Pick your favorite story you’ve written or your most popular or the one you think deserves some more love! Or ask your followers to suggest their favorite fic of yours!

[snek-panini]

Happy Halloween! Have a book:

This is Siren's Song by @kedreeva (Hi! I asked to bind your fic months ago, sorry it took so long XD). It's an incredible Good Omens siren AU, which needs no introduction from me but it gets one anyway. It's one of the most in-character fics I've ever read, tackles a lot of the most resonant themes of the original (love in the context of aromanticism and asexuality, human labels in the context of non-human perspective), and has incredible world-building. Later parts of the fic always make me cry but they're good tears. You'll see. When I first learned that fanbinding was a thing and started looking into how to do it, this was one of the first fics I thought of. It just took me a while to learn the skills I needed before I could do it.

More pics and process talk under the cut!

So the cover up there is black faux leather and momi paper that I bought...about two years ago? And just kept on hand till I was ready to do this project. This is the first time I've worked with it and it was fairly nice, though harder to get a nice crease into than lokta or chiyogami. It felt very fragile when I was handling it but I didn't have any issues with tearing or glue bleed-through like I thought I might. It did bleed some color when I got it damp with the glue, and it took way longer to dry than normal, but once that was done it's been fine. Which is nice because I have a lot left over, so it'll probably be making many future appearances in my binds.

Look! It's rounded! I got a backing setup recently and this is my first time using it. It was Very Hard and I am not very good at it yet. But I think it looks pretty good for a first attempt, and there was really no other way to mitigate the spine swell on this one. I used a thick paper so I've got a thick book. I also tried something new with the case, though it isn't visible. Usually I make the text block and the case separately and then attach them as the last step, but for this one I actually built the case around the text. Like, boards attached to mull/tapes (sandwiched between thinner boards, with grooves cut for them so there are no bulges), then covered with momi, then leather corners and spine, then paste down the endpaper. It's got an oxford hollow, too! The tapes and mull actually wrap around the outside of the boards instead of the inside like I've done before. Endpapers are my favorite feather chiyogami. Combined with the marbled momi they make for a very opulent look, and I had just barely enough to do this. Like, down to the millimeter. I had to trim the edges and then glue the endpapers after to be sure they were right. I'm glad they were, because I didn't have a backup plan. Handmade endbands, colors picked to match the cover. Also, last note, I got the corner bits right for the first time. Measured properly, with no weird pointy bits that come out at funny angles. Very proud.

Title page and bookmark/interior shot. Did you know that some basic fonts in MS Word look different when you use a huge font size? Because I didn't until I made this title page. That's Parchment for the title, and it only gets those swirly bits around the capital letters if you take it to 26pt or higher (I used 72 here). Now I wonder if any of the other fonts have easter eggs in them like that. The ribbon is very fancy, to go along with the rich endpaper/cover combo. I think it's pretty appropriate for a mythological golden age of piracy story, as are the text ornaments:

Chapter header image, chapter end image, and section break image. It was a very image-heavy typeset. I was originally planning to only have a header and a section break, but I couldn't decide whether I liked the ships or the book/shell/feather better, and they both suited the story so well that I just went with both. Again, opulent, but I think it fits. All the images came from rawpixel, all I did was resize them.

There was a small error in the trimming process. Comes of having to calculate so closely the exact amount you can trim off, that you have to trim off so your slightly-too-small endpapers fit. I think something got misaligned when I poked the sewing holes because only the first signature is like this. The rest of the book has a more appropriately-sized margin between the page number and the edge. I got very lucky here, and I know it, and I'm never cutting it this close (lol) again. Next time we just order another sheet of chiyogami.

And that's it! I have one author's copy and one new bind in progress right now (that's taking a while because I'm learning more new stuff for it), and then I have two Christmas gift books to do, so it might be a bit before I have another book to share.

[something-tofightfor]

Fool's Gold 2: The Wonder in the Wait

Pairing: Pirate Oberyn Martell x Female Reader (with a twist)

Rating: M for now - but that will change later.

Word Count: 6,255

Summary: The longer you're on the ship, the more you learn about the man who rescued you - and the people you're surrounded by.

Some things make sense. Others make none. As more time passes, the line between the two blurs. Your growing comfort on the open sea and your blooming attraction to Daavos doesn't help anything.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone that read the first two parts of this. I love this little world I'm building, and it's been a lot of fun to tweak Daavos' personality a little without making him unrecognizable.

If you want to talk about this story (or any of my others) please feel free to pop into my inbox or DMs!

Chapter title comes from "Valkyrie" by Caligula's Horse.

Fool's Gold Masterlist

You paused for long moments at the top of the stairs, just looking at what was in front of you. 

You’d expected a ship that was in less than perfect condition, something that might have needed serious repairs or polishing due to the time it spent on the sea and the nature of piracy. 

Instead, you saw grandeur everywhere you looked - gleaming bronze rails, polished carvings on the outer walls of the main cabin, and level decking with evenly cut boards beneath your feet. The design of the ship was sleek, and when you looked up at the sails, you had to blink at how large they were - and at the fact that they weren’t patched or mended. 

Instead, they were pristine and blood red, and though they weren’t fully extended, they were still puffy with the breeze. “We don’t sail at full speed overnight.” Daavos reached for you again, taking your elbow. “We’ll lower them again at first light.” You walked slowly with him across the deck, eyes scanning your surroundings. “My crew are very good at what they do.”

“Your ship is beautiful.” He held your hand as you took a few steps upward onto the deck at the bow, nodding politely at a young man that hurried by and briefly ducked his head as he greeted the two of you. “What is she called?”

He stopped beside you, letting go of your hand and then leaning forward to rest his elbows atop one of the railings. Daavos was quiet, and you took a few seconds to look at him, watching as the sea breeze ruffled the curls on his head. His profile was stunning - a proud, sloped nose, full lips that seemed to be set into a pout whenever he was deep in thought, his neck corded with muscle, but still slender. 

He was handsome, and you had the feeling that whenever the ship was docked, the women in whatever port they chose were falling over themselves just for the chance to interact with him. Unless he has a wife. He said there were women on board, but if she were here, he wouldn’t have put me in their room. You glanced down at your own hands, thinking. 

You didn’t wear a ring. You didn’t have any jewelry that bore a sigil with your belongings. Aside from the bottom of the dagger’s hilt and the strange stamped piece of metal, you’d seen nothing of yours that could even potentially connect you to a house or a family. 

There was always the possibility that you were poor, and that your husband and family were lowborn, which meant that you had nothing of real value to your name. But the material and style of your dress and boots - and the gold coins in them - told you otherwise. 

“You’re on the Sand Snake.” Daavos finally spoke, turning his head toward you. “The finest ship out of -” The Sand Snake? But … 

“This is Prince Oberyn Martell’s ship.” You straightened up, lips parting as your eyes widened. “It was captured after he -” After he died. Daavos stood up, too, angling his body toward yours, but leaving one elbow resting against the railing. “And that makes you the Blood Adder.” 

You took a step back, fear creeping through you for the first time. I knew there was going to be something to worry about. “So you have heard of me.” His smile was still there, and the amusement in his eyes had grown, but he didn’t move closer or attempt to keep you in place, even as you took another half step back. “This was the Prince’s ship. And I did take over as captain after he was ambushed.” He reached down, untucking the bottom of his shirt from his pants and lifting the material up to show you the skin of his abdomen. Despite your apprehension, you didn’t look away as he displayed a large, healed over scar, prominent on his right side. “But I earned it.” 

You knew the story of Oberyn Martell - and his fate - well. 

You didn’t know how or why you had the information, but as you kept quiet and studied Daavos’ face, you tried to think rationally. Let it come to you. After Oberyn’s victory against Gregor Clegane at Tyrion Lannister’s trial by combat, things had escalated quickly for the Dornishman. 

A week later, Tywin Lannister’s body had been found in one of the Red Keep’s towers. The only thing wrong with his appearance was a trickle of blood from his nose and mouth. The following day, an entire company of the Lannister army that was known to closely protect and serve Tywin was found poisoned, all of the men suffering greatly before their deaths according to eyewitnesses. 

There was no outright reason to suspect Oberyn, as he’d been seen with his lover Ellaria in a variety of places throughout the most likely times that the deaths had taken place. But Cersei hadn’t been willing to accept that she couldn’t pin the blame on him, though she’d let the Dornish Prince finish his stay in King’s Landing without incident. 

Weeks later, long after the Dornish entourage had returned home, she’d sailed a portion of her army down the coast and toward Dorne to intercept the Prince’s ship as he sailed north for Pentos. A clash on the open sea resulted in the death of the Prince, the capture of his ship, and a victory for the Queen Reagent, even if she was the only one keeping score. 

But you hadn’t known that pirates took part in the initial battle, and you told Daavos as much, your voice shaking slightly. “They did.” He scoffed. “Cersei Lannister was not willing to sacrifice more of her army than necessary, so she required the assistance of pirates.” He gestured to the ship, his smile almost spiteful. “I kept the name of the ship because when people see her? They remember what one Dornish man was willing to do for those he loves.” He pointed at himself. “And I am the Blood Adder to carry on in the Red Viper’s memory, because I understand what it means to honor those memories. I understand the importance of family and love and vengeance.”

“Did you kill him for this ship?” You held his gaze, setting your shoulders. “Prince Oberyn?” 

“No.” Daavos narrowed his eyes. “I did not.” He sighed. “She tasked one of her men with carrying that order out.” 

“They never found his body.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. “I remember … the news came to us, and he was declared dead because …” You tapped your foot on the deck, thinking. “His armor. People that went to King’s Landing said that Prince Oberyn’s armor was displayed there as a trophy. And they wouldn’t have had the armor unless…” 

“So it seems that you do know some things.” Daavos raised a brow, lips parting to reveal his teeth through a smile. “Just not … anything about yourself.” 

“I know that I must have been on a ship.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “And I know that I had some coin, and a dagger that looks at least somewhat valuable.” He nodded, eyeing you. “I know that the style of my dress is … quality.” 

“The stitching is exquisite.” Daavos winked again, nodding back. “We found you by following a trail of debris floating on the water. With the currents, it seems …” He took a breath. “It seems likely that you set sail from Braavos or Gulltown.” 

You considered his words. Either option was possible, based on what you knew about those ports. “Did you find anything from the ship? A name, a logbook, a piece of sail?” 

“We found wreckage. Some was just broken boards and beams, other pieces looked … burned.” He pointed at you with one ringed finger. “Those burns align with your burns; the ones on your back and shoulders? It stormed in the area a few days ago, we were sailing just behind the weather, so it is possible that -”

“Lightning.” You gasped, thinking back to your dream. “I dreamed about a lightning storm and the smell of burning, and -” 

“This is good.” Daavos smiled and then stepped closer, stopping when you held up a hand. “I am sorry.” He held up both hands, closing his eyes. “I understand that now that you know who I am, you are … afraid of me.” Not afraid, just … wary. “You have no reason to believe me, but I mean it when I say that as long as you are on this ship, you are just as important to me as any member of my crew.” He gestured to the space behind you, indicating the rest of the ship. “I mean you no harm, and neither do any of them. I only take lives when it is necessary.” 

“What happened to the Prince’s men?” You turned and looked at the crewmembers as they worked, listening as their laughter carried to you. “Did they just abandon ship when you became captain?”

“His crew was small on that journey, because it was supposed to be a simple one. Some of them were killed attempting to protect their Prince.” He sighed, finally looking away and staring out, over the water. “I gave others the option to disembark when we made land next so that they could make their way home. A few did that. Most chose to stay.” He looked back at you, his smile sad. “It is a big and beautiful world, and they, like myself, did not want to live and die in the same corner of it where they were born.” 

“They should call you Daavos the Merciful, not the Blood Adder.” You rolled your eyes, turning away from him and crossing your arms before you leaned forward, resting them on the railing. “If what you’re saying is true, you’re the least ruthless pirate on the Narrow Sea.” 

He laughed at your words, moving to stand next to you again and mirroring your position, though he kept space between you. “Don’t be fooled. I am ruthless. And I will defend myself and those that I protect. But cruelty for cruelty’s sake serves no purpose in this life. I am no Lannister.” 

The two of you watched the sea in silence for a long while, and you let your thoughts run free. 

His story rang true with what you knew of the Martells and Lannisters. You’d recognized the ship and figured out his name before he’d even confirmed who he was. His crew seemed happy, and the few women you’d seen on the decks and in the hallways below deck looked content and healthy as they moved freely throughout the ship. He’s not keeping them here against their will.  

It still didn’t seem like a typical pirate ship or crew, though you had nothing more than general knowledge to make your assumptions from. But the truth was that no matter how you felt, or what you thought, there was little you could do about your situation. I just need to make it to Tyrosh. That gives me time. 

“Thank you for rescuing me.”  You looked toward him, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for allowing your healer to treat my wounds. I …” You didn’t know if you actually wanted to admit to him how close you’d been to giving up, but decided that no matter what or who he was, he’d brought you on board and deserved to hear the truth. “If you hadn’t found me that day, I was … I was going to wait until sundown, when the sea beasts …” 

“Then I am very glad we saw your boat.” He cautiously reached over, letting his fingertips touch your hand but not pushing for more. “You may not know who you are or where you come from right now, but I’m certain that you have much to live for.” 

“Maybe.” You glanced down at your hands. “I have no jewelry. I have nothing with a house sigil on it. I don’t know who might be looking for me, or where I was going, or -”

“You remembered the lightning.” He nodded, brow furrowed. “You remembered the storm. The way you speak and the information you know tells me that you are educated, and not just in historical events. If you want my guess?” He leaned a little closer, and you did too, captivated by the cadence of his voice and the warmth in his expression. “I think you are from Braavos. And if that is the case, your ship not showing up where it is supposed to be when it is supposed to be there will be big news.”  

He was right. And it’s as good a guess as any. “I have enough to book passage on a ship from Tyrosh back to Braavos.” You shook your head and then covered your face with your hands. “Or … or any other city between here and Tyrosh. You could just … Pentos. You could drop me off in Pentos, and -”

“I could do that.” He sighed, lips turning downward and into a frown. “If it is what you want me to do. But Braavos is just my guess. And if I am wrong? If you make it back to the city and it turns out that you are not from there?” His mouth moved, but no words came out for long seconds. “A woman alone with little money has very few options for survival.” 

“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped and you hung your head, eyes cast down so that you could focus on the surface of the water as the ship slipped through it. He was right about that, too. And while you figured a man like Daavos had spent time in the pleasure houses and brothels in both Westeros and Essos, it seemed that the idea of someone being forced into the profession wasn’t something he agreed with. 

You wondered if he had sisters - or even close friends while growing up - that had been thrust into that lifestyle against their will. Or maybe he just … cares. “May I tell you something else?” 

You murmured a yes, blinking rapidly before you looked over at him. The sun was truly beginning to set, and the light caught him perfectly, highlighting the planes of his face and seeming to make him glow. The sight of him - like that - was distracting, but you forced yourself to pay attention to what he was saying, trying to push the feeling of attraction to the side. It is not the right time. 

“My healer told me some other things about you after she examined you.” He closed his eyes, sighing. “I was not present for any of this, I assure you. But she said that you seem to be healthy. You have few scars, and despite it being crusted with salt and blood from the wound, your hair was … Not matted. No insects. It was singed, but your dress was well made and maintained.” He cautiously touched your hand again, fingers trailing down to take your wrist before he flipped it over, exposing your palm. “There are only small calluses on your hands and feet.” 

He slipped his thumb up and over the heel of your hand and then circled it against your palm, his touch gentle. But wait a minute … From what you could see, his hands were smooth, too - or at least smoother than those of a pirate should have been. There was dirt beneath his nails, but they were well-kept. And so is his hair and his facial hair. 

He traced along one of the lines on your palm, following it up the center of your hand with the tips of two of his fingers, but he didn’t say anything else for almost a minute. “She checked you for … trauma.” You knew what he meant immediately, and instead of attempting to draw your hand away from his, you closed your fingers, trapping his beneath them. “I thought … I thought maybe something had happened, and someone left you in that boat, and …”

“Did she find anything?” You hadn’t even considered the fact that you’d been abused and then abandoned, and even though there was wreckage from what Daavos assumed was your ship, he’d been right to check. 

“She told me no on both accounts, but did not give details.” He pressed his palm to yours and then withdrew his hand, steepling his fingers together, arms hanging over the edge of the railing. “That is a good thing.” It is. “Today must be overwhelming for you, so I will finish the tour by showing you the rest of the ship’s interior. There is a washroom. There is a galley. If and when you are hungry, please find something to eat.” 

“Am I allowed to be out here?” You held a hand up, thumb pointing back and behind you. “Or would you prefer I stay below deck?” 

“You can go wherever you wish.” His smile widened, and you were happy to see it. “You are not a prisoner on the Sand Snake. She is yours to explore.” You thanked him again, and when you both stood up and backed away from the railing, it was you that reached for him, laying your hand on his arm and letting it rest there. 

“I’ll go with you to Tyrosh, Daavos. Pentos is … there’s no need to make a special stop for me.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” He closed his eyes and nodded, the small smile never faltering. “And I’m sure we’ll enjoy each other’s company until we arrive.” 

— 

For the next few days, you got to know the ship and some of the crew. 

The weather was pleasant, and the further south you sailed, the warmer the days became. You saw Daavos multiple times each day, but he didn’t visit you in your room at all. You knew that he’d gone in, though, because the door of his wardrobe was unlocked one afternoon, and one of the drawers on his desk was opened the next, revealing stacks of papers and a few small books inside of it. 

You knew it was wrong of you, especially after he’d been so generous with allowing you to remain in the room even after you didn’t need to anymore. But you couldn’t stop yourself from reading the pages. 

Some of them were Prince Oberyn’s personal items. There were letters from his daughters and Ellaria, sketches of a beautiful woman that you assumed was his lover, and even a few folded pieces of paper that you opted not to read after finding that they were correspondence that he’d never been able to send to the woman before his death. 

There was also poetry, which you absolutely read, your eyes scanning the words on the page as your heart ached for the man that had inked them. You knew who Prince Oberyn was and what he was known for, and based on the pages in front of you, the rumors of his romantic nature had been true. 

But his feud with the Lannisters had snuffed out his life too soon, leaving a woman that was clearly devoted to him as well as all of his daughters without him. It’s not fair, you thought as you shuffled through the papers and put them back into the order you’d found them in. He won that trial outright and there was no proof that he was responsible for Tywin and the army’s deaths. 

There was another stack of papers in the drawer, and those were in a different handwriting, leading you to believe that they were Daavos’. Reading the words of a dead man were one thing, but prying into the life of a man that you knew personally was another, and so with only a quick glance, you pushed them away from you and then shut the drawer. 

It locked with a click, and you stood up, deciding to get some fresh air. 

Twilight was settling over the sea, which meant activity on the deck was light. Most of the crew were in the galley or their quarters and enjoying their nightly meal. You opted to stay on the main deck, settling yourself atop one of the crates there and leaning against the ones stacked behind it. 

Your hands and face were better - the salve Daavos had given you was nothing short of magic. Though the worst blisters were still present, they’d gotten much smaller and no longer hurt. 

Your back was better, too, the healer confirming that you were on the mend. All things considered, the previous days had been wonderful for you, and the fresh salt breeze was likely helping. 

But you still didn’t remember anything about your previous life. 

You’d asked a few of the crewmen if they recognized the symbol on the metal or the mark on the bottom of your dagger, but none of them could help you. You’d inquired as to whether or not they recognized your accent based on their travels, but aside from a vague “you sound like you’re from the North”, there’d been no progress there, either.

But you could read. And if you could read, it stood to reason that you could write, too. You were educated and your body was soft, making clear that you’d never had to do hard labor.  Your clothes and boots were made from fine materials, and were well made, on top of that. The confirmation that your body bore no signs of sexual trauma was a relief, too. 

All of that together told you that whoever you were and wherever you were from, you’d likely had a good life, or at the very least, a comfortable one. “And yet I’m happy here, too.” You sighed and closed your eyes, tipping your head back. 

The crew were friendly, explaining the routines on the ship to you when you asked. You’d helped in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and slicing bread, even helping to cook meat. After the first few days on board, you’d woken up early in the morning, following the schedule of the majority of the crew. You would have helped more, earning your place among them, but they had been unwilling to let you. 

You assumed that was Daavos’ doing. While you appreciated the fact that he wanted you to get better before you overexerted yourself, you wondered how long that would last. Maybe until Tyrosh. You hoped that wasn’t the case, because there were still days to go until you docked there. 

“May I sit with you?” You opened your eyes at the sound of his voice, turning your head to the right. “We have not had time to speak today.” 

“Of course, Captain.” Scooting over, you left him room to sit beside you. “We’re what … three days out from Tyrosh?” He settled in, murmuring an agreement. 

“Maybe a little less.” He settled his hands on his lap, one thumb turning the ring on the other in a slow circle. “The winds change near Shipbreaker Bay, and we may be fortunate.” 

“I’m sure the crew will be happy to be on land for a few days.” He nodded, taking a deep breath. “What about you? Do you stay with the ship, or will you enjoy the city, too?” 

“The Three Sisters to Tyrosh is a short journey, so none of my crew are sea-weary.” There was a long pause, and when Daavos spoke again, you could tell that he was amused. “But if you’re asking what I believe you are asking, yes. I intend to make a few stops while we’re docked, and I’m sure they will, too.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat. Of course he understood my meaning. “After we inquire about you, of course.” 

“I can do that on my own.” You waved him off. “It shouldn’t take long. And I don’t want to cut your time short with … your business.” Daavos laughed, lifting one hand to press it to the center of his chest, and despite the slight embarrassment you felt at the subject of the conversation, you let yourself enjoy it. 

He laughed often, the sound carrying on the breeze to your ears throughout the days and in through your open window during the night. You looked forward to hearing it, but you enjoyed seeing him laugh even more, the corners of his eyes creased and a dimple appearing on one cheek. Daavos laughing usually made you want to join in, but that night, all you did was give him a small smile before lowering your head as you shook it back and forth. 

“I told you. I am responsible for you until I know that I don’t need to be any longer.” He reached over then, settling his hand on your knee and squeezing. “Us talking to a few people will not interfere with my business.” Daavos paused, and then sighed. “You still have not told me what you wish for me to use as your name.” 

Truthfully, you hadn’t given it much thought. The rest of the crew were happy to greet you without calling you anything, and you didn’t want to choose something quickly and then remain saddled with it if you never remembered who you really were. You told him as much, and Daavos didn’t reply at first - but when he did, his words stunned you. 

“What if I give you a name?” He looked over at you, waiting to see your response. You? But you don’t know me. How can you … “You were found by a Dornish ship with a Dornish crew, so it only seems right to carry that on and call you by a Dornish name.” 

“You know that much about Dorne? You could choose a -”

“I know a great many things about a great many people.” He nodded. “And I have spent more than enough time in Dorne to have an idea of the importance of the names they often use there.” 

“But I’m not -” 

“I won’t choose Nymeria. I promise.” He winked at you and that made you laugh, his lips curving upward at the sound. “Not Dyanne. Not Emarye. Not Arianne.” He sighed. “Meria? No, no, that is …” Daavos cocked his head to the side, furrowing his brows. “Myriah?” He nodded. “That might …” Myriah? “Myriah Martell and her brother united Dorne with the rest of Westeros by marrying Targaryens. It is a strong name. A good name. And if you agree, that is what I…” He swept one of his hands in a half circle to indicate the rest of the ship. “What we will call you for as long as you are with us.” 

You thought for a few minutes, letting his words sink in. It’s only temporary. Once I remember who I am, I won’t use that anymore. You didn’t mind the name - especially when it was coming from Daavos’ lips. “Alright.” You agreed, shifting so that you could face him. “I accept that.” 

Daavos got to his feet and spun to face you, his smile widening. “Well that was simple.” You stood, too, and when Daavos held out his hand, you took it, the man’s fingers closing around yours before he’d opened his mouth again. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Myriah.” 

You wanted to tell him the same, but before you could get the words out, he was lifting your hand and leaning forward, lips puckered. He kissed the back of it and didn’t pull away before raising his gaze to meet yours. Oh, he … this is … it shouldn’t be this enjoyable to … Daavos closed his eyes and squeezed your fingers before releasing them. “It’s…” You shook your head to clear it. “That is definitely not my actual name, so -”

“One down, endless possibilities to go.” He smiled again, and you joined him in laughter, deciding that in spite of the reservations you felt about your behavior - and what was appropriate with Daavos, you were going to try to be less harsh on yourself. At least while I’m on board. “Your help around the ship has been noticed.” He gestured for you to walk with him, and so you did, the two of you heading for the bow and then up the steps. “But you don’t need to work so hard. You are my guest, not a sailor.” 

“I’ve already kicked you out of your bedroom. I can’t just no nothing. I don’t like being idle.” You paused, turning to look at him. “Daavos, there’s a possibility that in a few days, I’ll find out where I came from and where I was supposed to go, and then you won’t have to worry about me offering help.” 

You felt disappointment gathering in your chest as you spoke the words, the emotion foreign for you. You wanted the truth, wanted to find yourself … but a small part of you wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the handsome man that had saved you from certain death. Handsome pirate… he’s not just a man. 

“Can I ask you a personal question?” He lifted a brow, one side of his mouth quirking upward, too. I’m going to take that as a yes. “Are you … married?” You crossed your arms and then uncrossed them, very aware that you could have been too forward with him. “I just wonder if you have someone waiting in a port somewhere, or if one of the women on board are -”

“None of the women on this ship are mine.” His smile widened, Daavos letting out a deep breath. “And as for a wife?” He looked off to his right, his expression faltering briefly. “She is my wife in all of the ways that matter to me, but I have not seen her for many months.” He looked back at you, and even though he was smiling, the expression was sad. “This life is not for her, but she understands that I am doing what I must do.” 

You weren’t surprised, but you were a little confused. In all the ways that matter? What does that mean? You were also somewhat disappointed, and there was no way for you to pretend otherwise. Of course he has someone. “Will you see her soon?”

“Very soon.” He grinned, putting a hand on his hip. “It is something that has been a long time coming, and I hope that she is just as excited as I am.” Why wouldn’t she be? You wondered if he was meeting her in Tyrosh - if she was one of the stops that he was planning on making once the ship docked. 

Before you could ask, though, the sound of a clanging bell rang out, startling you - and Daavos. “What is that? Why -”

“That is the signal for rough water. It means things might not be so smooth tonight.” He sighed. “Of course it happens after dark, but…” He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch, but when Daavos caught your eye again, the smile was back on his lips. “Let me walk you back to your room.” 

You agreed, thanking him. To your surprise, he offered you his arm to lead you across the deck and back toward he stairs, his hand settling over yours once you’d tucked it into the crook of his elbow. As the two of you walked together, you felt the ship sway beneath your feet. It was the first time since you’d been on board that you felt unsteady, but with Daavos next to you, you kept your balance. 

You made it to the door of your room and he stopped, pulling his arm free from yours. He didn’t say goodnight or turn to leave, though. “Thank you for making sure I got back safely.” You spoke quietly, the flickering lanterns casting light over both of you. “Will the waves make it hard for you to sleep tonight?” 

“No.” He leaned in. “Don’t worry about me.” He wet his lips, eyes searching your face for long moments. It should have made you uncomfortable, but instead you grew warm at the way his focus felt. He just told me he has someone. He just … stop. “You may want to douse the lantern in your room tonight. If it gets too rough, it -”

He was cut off by another lurch of the ship, but that one caused you to lose your balance. You stumbled forward a few steps, both hands rising and then coming to rest against his chest. Daavos reacted, too, his arms winding around you to keep you from falling over. “Oh! Daavos, I -” The ship rocked again, but he had his feet planted that time, and managed to keep you both steady. 

You should have moved. 

The proper thing to do would have been to pull yourself out of his arms and go into the bedroom … but you didn’t. Instead, you let him hold you, your eyes locked with his in the dim hallway. As the seconds ticked by, you felt his hands move, Daavos sliding one of them slowly up your back and pulling you even closer. 

You curled your fingers against his shirt, the material silky to the touch - and for a split second, wondered if his hair would be just as soft. Or his lips. Your eyes dropped to his mouth and lingered there. The desire that had been simmering since the moment you’d first woken up to see him through the gauzy sunlight filtering through his curtains overwhelmed your common sense. Kiss me. Please kiss me. 

 It was him that moved first, Daavos tilting his head to the side as he leaned in, palm flat against your back and his fingers spread wide. He’s going to kiss me. 

But it was you that stopped him, your mouth opening and somehow overpowering your body’s reaction to his proximity. “Please don’t.” He stopped moving immediately, both eyes widening. “You just … your wife. You -”

“There is so much that you do not know.” His lips twisted into a frown as he straightened up, but Daavos didn’t let go of you. “So much, and -”

“You’re right.” You felt the tears gathering and then blinked them away furiously, even as you pushed against his chest to put distance between you. “I know nothing about myself. I might have a husband that spends his time writing me poetry like the kind I found in your - in Oberyn’s room.” The tears fell and you watched Daavos’ face do the same, the man wincing at your words. “I might have someone that misses me the way that he missed Ellaria and his daughters when they were apart, but I don’t know.” 

He spoke then, saying your agreed-upon name and then stopping, head lowering as he shook it. It sounds strange to me, too. “You might. It would not surprise me.”

“But what I do know? Is that you just told me that you do have someone. And they’re waiting for you. And no matter how much I would like to let you kiss me, I will not risk losing your goodwill when it comes to my place on this ship.” You sucked in a breath, pushing on his chest again in frustration. That time, he let you go, taking a step back but not looking away as he let you see the hurt in his expression. “And I won’t hurt a woman I’ve never met by taking something that isn’t mine to take.” 

“I am sorry.” He swallowed, holding up one hand. “It was my mistake.” Your heart lurched at his admission, and you fought to keep your expression even. The ship swayed again, forcing you to reach out with one hand to brace yourself against the wall. Daavos looked away and over his shoulder before settling his attention back on you. “Please don’t think less of me.” 

“I don’t.” Your heart was pounding, but what you said was the truth. You’d both gotten caught up in the moment - and you’d stopped yourself before crossing a line. “It happens. A moment of weakness, and nothing more.” Gesturing to the hallway behind him, you forced a smile. “Go. Check on your ship.” 

He thanked you and then turned away after giving you one final look. But before Daavos had taken more than a few steps, he stopped and looked back in your direction. “I was not just talking about you when I said there were things that you don’t know.” What does that even mean? “Sleep well.” 

Daavos turned away again and then disappeared into the darkness. You stared after him for long moments, trying to make sense of what he’d said - and what had almost happened between you. “I can do that inside.” 

You spoke to yourself, the sound of your voice forcing you into motion. Minutes later, you were inside of the room and in bed. You doused the lantern like Daavos had suggested, which plunged the room into almost total darkness and left you alone with your thoughts - and the memory of his touch.

Sleep evaded you for hours. It had little to do with the way the ship moved atop the water and everything to do with the way that the look of disappointment in Daavos’ eyes had mirrored what you felt as you pushed him away and heard him call the moment between you a mistake. 

—  

[risingsoleil]

Since Lin just won LoK's favorite character, I keep wondering what would be Tenzin's (AU or Canon) reaction to her winning some kind of popularity contest- anywhere from the Republic City's Woman of the Year to the United Nations' Sexiest Alive

I'm sorry this is a delayed response ~

Republic City's Woman of the Year

AU Tenzin - Does an all out celebration for Lin by taking her out for dinner, buying her flowers and favorite liquor, and making the kids all do something nice for Lin. Of course, they celebrated in the bedroom too.

Any positive traits about other people, he connects it to Lin.

"Yeah, Avatar Kyoshi was very powerful. Just like my wife is."

He has no problem boasting about it to the press.

"She deserves it. In fact, I would love to have Most Influential Woman award and nominate her to be the first one to receive it. Or I would create a Woman of the Century award. Lin's entire life deserves multiple awards anyway. Every era of her life has deserved an award in one way or another."

Lin sits on top of him, unbuttoning her dress. "Let me show you what the Woman of the Year can do..."

Canon Tenzin - sends a congralutations letter to Lin. Asks to take her out to lunch, since it's public and Pema won't get too jealous. He wants to catch up with her and actually have some quality time with her as a friend. But it's hard because they both have complex feelings and he can't separate Lin as just a friend...

But he is very proud of her, and he tells her so. He just wishes he could show her how proud he is and do more than just take her out to lunch.

United Republic of Nation's Sexiest Woman Alive

AU Tenzin - kids didn't wanna stay anywhere near their parents bc they knew what was happening. Lin couldn't walk properly for a few days because of the wild new positions Tenzin put her in. Got twisted like a pretzel and everything.

Everyone will know that she's the sexiest woman alive based on how insatiable he is toward her. Lin thinks he took an aphrodisiac, but he didn't.

Tenzin told her not to wear any clothes except his in the main house.

In town, Lin overheard some women saying that she didn't deserve the title at all.

Lin told Tenzin they're going out for dinner and she's dressing up in her most sensual/somewhat appropriate outfit.

Women get more jealous becaus they could never afford the dress anyway, and men want to bang a married woman so badly.

Tenzin has eyes only for his wife.

Canon Tenzin - Part of him is like "long overdue, Lin has always been the sexiest woman alive. No one compares." But then he gets pissed because if he thinks this, then so do millions of other people.

He doesn't want any guy approaching Lin. All his suppressed feelings are coming up and he tries to shove them down.

Then he remembers he has some photos of him and Lin hidden away somewhere. So he goes to find them, and sure enough, he finds lots of photos.

Even the spicy ones.

He jerks off to that. Wants so badly to actually be with Lin right then and there.

[cafeinthemoon]

King - Chapter V

Chapter 5

Title The Particle of the Sun

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: A not so subtle (and very problematic) threat from Poseidon involving pregnancy

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: Finally a new chapter!! Yay! I wanted this chapter to be as long as the previous ones, but I thought I've already reunited enough information in these less than 3k words (hope you don't mind). About the story of the Particle: a curious fact about Poseidon that I discovered recently was that he was deity responsible for the Delphic Oracle alongside Gaia before Apollo was even born. I couldn't find many details about this, but my headcanon is that Poseidon still has the gift of clairvoyance, or extended vision, as said by himself here, and this will show in crucial moments of this story. I also found a way to explain the existence of days and nights under the sea and I'm very proud of my work in this :)

When you opened your eyes, you noticed a slight change in the shade of the curtains: the abyssal black was replaced by a softer form of blue, the same blue of the sea’s surface on a sunny day. There was absolute silence in the canopy’s interior, which only changed when you decided to sit on the bed.

It was strange that you were left to sleep there: you thought you would be sent back to the lodge after the wedding’s consummation, but you were kept in your husband’s chambers for that entire night. You were debating the reason for this when you noticed a tall shadow approaching the canopy’s entry, and a hand showed up between the fabric to open it.

When the curtains were separated, the morning light shone into the space, exposing the messed sheets and the tiny human cradled among them to the eyes of the Lord of the Seas, who kept observing you with a mixture of curiosity and disapproval, as if finding hard to believe that you needed such a long period of sleep.

Well, you had no idea of how long you’ve been there, but you found that absurd.

Does this man know nothing about the human nature? If he wanted me to wake up earlier, he could’ve just called me.

It was when you noticed he was dressed in a formal, bluish attire... and realized it was the first time you saw him properly dressed. That made you look at yourself and pull the sheets up to cover your torso.

Poseidon frowned at this attitude.

– Why are you doing this? There is no need for you to cover up now. I have already seen everything I had to see.

Your reply came in an impulse.

– I’m cold.

He stared at you for a moment, then pointed at the empty space beside him.

– Here.

You tried to leave the bed using the sheets to cover yourself but, once you were under his reach, he pulled them away, throwing them back on the bed and closing the curtains. You crossed your arms before your chest: staying undressed and disheveled in front of a god under the daylight and when he himself was wearing full clothes provoked a new, incomparable embarrassment in you.

– Come with me – he spoke it like an order and, before you could do anything, he took you in his arms.

Unlike you told him, you weren’t really cold, but the absence of the sheets caused you shivers that only ceased when you were on his lap, and for a moment you allowed yourself to relax, leaning your head on his chest. It was curious that, despite the sensation of complete unfamiliarity that surrounded every aspect of your relationship with that man, you were still able to find good things in them, such as this sort of safeness in his grip and the pleasure you experienced in his touch. If this was thanks to some spell or if you were just susceptible, you were yet to find out.

That time, you were carried to a dressing area: your husband stopped with you in the middle of a room with an infinity of clothes, shoes and other female accessories, ready to be worn; on a corner, there was a screen with hand painted illustrations of coral reefs and other marine concepts, similar to the one you had on your lodge and, beside it, an open door that led to a bathroom.

Poseidon put you down and turned to a rack at his left, taking a dress with him and giving it to you.

– Put it on and go wash your face – he instructed – I will be waiting here.

What you heard instead of this was Do not let me waiting.

You did as he said, entering behind the screen to put the dress despite what he said when you cover yourself up with the sheets, then cleaned your face and fixed your hair. When you went back to him, he held your shoulders and made you turn around; you didn’t need to ask what he was doing, for soon you noticed his fingers brushing your hair. After this, he took a shawl and wrapped it around you, then took your hair out of it. You didn’t think he believed when you said you were cold, but the message behind the gesture was clear: as much as he expected you to take his words seriously, he was able to do the same for his wives, so that you had all the reasons to pay attention to the things you said to him.

Poseidon brought his hands to your shoulders again, making you turn back to him.

– Still cold?

You made a negative sign with your head.

– No, my Lord.

– Good.

You thought he was going to take you out of that room, and maybe that was his intention, but he gave up on it when he touched your ears, making you flinch.

– They are a bit swollen. What happened?

– It’s probably because I slept upon them, my Lord...

You were going to say that they would stop aching soon, but he went to a vanity and brought a tiny pot of salve with him before you could open your mouth. Stopping in front of you, he took a bit of the product and spread it between his fingers, passing them on your ears, massaging around the earrings.

– It will soothe the ache – your husband went to put the salve back on its previous place.

You nodded.

– Thank you, Poseidon-sama.

His response was a sigh.

– You are so delicate it is impressive that nothing more than this happened.

That time, the impatience you felt bubbling inside you was too much, and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

– My fragility seems to be an issue for you, my Lord. I’d like to understand the reason I was brought here, if possible.

For a moment, you congratulated yourself for finally speaking out, but as soon as Poseidon laid his eyes on you, you sensed your courage diminishing in an impressive speed: you looked away, your fingers griping on the shawl’s fabric with nervousness; you felt his hand surrounding your jawline, his thumb caressing the corner of your mouth.

– It is just something I had to do, dragonet. For my own sake. It is nothing you should be concerned about.

***

You had your breakfast with your husband on a small table placed at the chambers’ balcony, as large as a common, human house, with a privileged view of the white beaches through which you’ve passed to enter the castle and the furious waters that surrounded them, now showing deep, mutable shades of green under the light.

It was something that has been intriguing you since you arrived, but you haven’t had the chance to bring it out in your conversations with Alyssa: when Poseidon brought you to the balcony – in his arms – and you were exposed to that light, the intensity and the warmth of it on your skin were enough to make you think that, if you didn’t know you were under the sea, you could be easily convinced that it was the true sun.

You were sitting on a white chair while your husband took the place before you, having a beautiful breakfast prepared for two, with fruits, tea and bread, everything with excellent aspect just like the food that was offered to you at the lodge. You weren’t sure if you should start eating now or wait for him to do it, but Poseidon didn’t seem inclined in this sense. At the same time, your hesitation was noticed and questioned by him.

– I’m not hungry, my Lord.

– At least take some tea – he replied – It will help you to stay warm.

You obeyed, filling a tiny cup with the liquid in silence. A conversation then took place.

– Are you still cold?

– No, my Lord.

– You don’t seem tired now. Did you sleep well?

– Yes, my Lord. Thank you for asking.

He nodded in approval, then suddenly changed the subject.

– You seem curious about the illumination system of this kingdom. Do you think it resembles the sunlight?

Your eyes widened at this.

Such sharp eyes, those ones.

– Yes, Poseidon-sama. It’s something I’ve been observing since I arrived.

– It is because you are indeed seeing the sunlight – he continued, answering the mystery – This is a story I do not mind telling you. Long time ago, I was the responsible for the Delphic Oracle before Apollo. All my houses were placed upon the waters by that time, but I was planning to bring all of them into one, on the seabed. I offered my connection with the Oracle to him and demanded a particle of the Sun in return, just enough to make life possible for non sea creatures in the depths of the ocean. Apollo accepted the deal and ordered the Particle to behave as if it was still in the skies, and this kingdom have been experiencing days and nights since then.

Poseidon told that story while observing the surroundings, as if talking to himself; he spoke as if all of that happened yesterday, and you were hearing in stunned silence. As someone who wasn’t raised to praise the gods, you knew nothing beyond their names, and cared little about them and their acts; that was entirely new for you. But if there was something you were quick to realize when you met them, specially the one who married you, was that they never did anything without a reason, or without expecting something in return, so that the story of the Oracle made total sense to you. You weren’t sure why Poseidon was telling you something that probably happened in a time when none of your ancestors existed, but it was intriguing that a proud being like him would give up on such an important treasure as an Oracle in favor of another deity, no matter what he would receive in exchange for it.

Since he didn’t oppose to it, you questioned him about it.

– Forgive my ignorance in these subjects, my Lord, but is hard to believe that such exchange really happened.

Contrary to what you expected, your doubts didn’t provoke the slightest sign of irritation in your husband: instead, he held a smirk on his lips, observing you with a sort of pity for the said ignorance.

– You really know nothing about gods, don’t you, dragonet? – and, without waiting for a response, – When I passed the Oracle’s management to Apollo, I was not sacrificing a belonging. Instead, I was delegating a responsibility to a younger god, in a way that his work would increase and mine would diminish. I no longer own the Oracle, but I still have the ability of extending my vision; besides, Proteus, who is a prophet himself, still works for me. On the other hand, Apollo has gained experience over the ages, and with experience came power. The Particle of the Sun that he gave to me will be forever a sign of his gratitude, since I was the one who made him the offer.

Gratitude? Was he trying to teach you a lesson about this? But why?

You chose your words carefully.

– I understand you have a reason to tell me all of this, my Lord. But I fail at perceiving it.

Poseidon opened a genuine smile of contentment, and that was the most unsettling moment you had with him since the wedding: though you were now dressed, you were still feeling exposed, too close to him to try and escape, whether with your words or your feet. You observed his expression and realized it was the first time you were seeing the natural light touching your husband’s figure, a vision that enchanted and scared you at the same time: the rosy shade on his cheeks and lips, the golden shine of his hair, the blue of his eyes glowing between those long, white lashes, all of this on an impossibly proud, young face, that has been like this since the oldest past and would stay the same in the furthest of futures. To you, it was inconceivable that someone could be so beautiful yet so menacing.

But not only this was possible through his looks, but also through his words, given what he said to you next.

– Good girl, always saying the right things. But I would like to know if you are just as grateful. So, tell me: have you already thought of how you are going to thank me for granting you my favor last night?

Since you took too long to understand what he was talking about, Poseidon didn’t mind explaining.

– I did you the favor of not making you bear a child right in your first night as my wife, though I still think it is a strange thing to ask, not to say foolish. This is what I want to know: what will you do for me in return?

You swallowed. In fact, your husband’s agreement with such an uncommon request came too quickly even for you, who didn’t know him so well. Of course such generosity wouldn’t come for free.

You opened your mouth in an impulse, but held your tongue just in time, granting yourself a moment to think of a wise answer.

– I... What do you need me to do, my Lord?

Poseidon still had the same content smile on his lips, to which you felt some relief.

He’s still having fun with this. And, as long as he stays like this, I’ll be safe.

– That you are very clever, I already know, and your talent with words might keep me entertained for quite some time. It would be a waste if you would just stay with the common duties of a secondary wife, so I have a task for you: since you will not use your time to bear and raise any child until the next year, you will have entire days to go to my children’s training area and observe each of them. You will figure out each one’s most efficient technique and find weaknesses in them. Once you do it, you will develop a solution for that. Given you are a smart girl, I believe it is something up to you.

You had your hands on your lap, holding each other with all the strength they had to avoid trembling, but you had no guarantee that the same nervousness didn’t raise to your face. Yes, you wouldn’t become a mother, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t have any contact with your husband’s children – that was the trap he has been preparing for you. And, by asking him what he needed you to do for him instead of thinking of something to offer, you easily fell into it.

I tried to examine the territory before making my offer, just like my father told me. But I should have known that what usually works with humans would be just useless while negotiating with a god. How stupid of me.

– What you will do to accomplish this is also up to you – he continued – Though I must warn you about the deadline: you will be given one year for this, nothing more. The counting will start tomorrow, by the morning, and will end in the next year, by a morning as well. By the end of this period, you will have to show me the results of your work. I will evaluate it and, if it is satisfying, your current condition, that is, of not bearing any children, will remain. However, if you show to be unable to fulfill this task…

Your heart ached, as if held tight by cold fingers, fearing what would follow those words. The table’s size was such that it allowed you to reach each other by touch, and that was precisely what your husband did: he stretched his arm over it to touch your face, making you startle despite the warmth of his skin. He brushed your hair behind your ear and you breathed deep, not daring move away.

– I still have to think of how things will be for you, dragonet – his voice was now a whisper; you looked at him and noticed an increase in his cheeks’ blush – But I cannot help thinking that you would look pretty with a rounded, swollen belly under your dress.

There was no need for explanations this time.

This offer, that sounded more like a threat, was absurd – not to say terrifying. But it was not the end for you: it was the beginning of a year full of work and discoveries, just like the ones that preceded it. And if you’ve already gone so far – entering that domain and staying alive, making a human friend where you thought you’d never see another human beyond yourself and managing to have your offer accepted by the Tyrant of the Seas – thinking of giving up didn’t make sense now.

I’m already in the bottom of the sea… What should I fear now?

You did your best to stand Poseidon’s gaze. He still had his hand close to you: you put your own upon it and turned your lips to his palm, giving it a soft, docile kiss.

– I will not disappoint you, Poseidon-sama.

And I will not disappoint myself either.

Chapter 6