#no luck with the other two though...it is what it is :(

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 5: What?!

Finally getting home from your patrol you sneak through the window of your bedroom and collapse onto your bed. After the call you decided that your patrol was done.

Frankly you're still coming to terms with the fact that Batman and his protogese are the same people who are essentially praying on your civilian self's downfall yet adoring your vigilante persona like it's the greatest thing in the world.

Though, now that you really think about it, it makes sense. Bruce Wayne is the richest man alive, he'd be able to afford to do this, they have the same amount of members as the heroes, same builds and heights, actually... Basically everything matches up.

Not to mention the fact that your senses goes off around both group members!

From outside your small room door you hear your parents arguing again - more like your mother yelling and your dad breaking things and stomping his foot. It was probably your dad's fault again. Don't get you wrong, you love your family! It's just that they're dysfunctional.

Your dad has a massive drinking problem that landed him working as a goon for Black Mask, he's struggled with his temper for years after he got hit a bit too hard in the head by Batman. Pair that with the fact that he's mute and he's a force to be reckoned with.

Your mom is always busy and rarely ever home, when she is she couldn't be bothered to interact with you unless you got into trouble. She grew up rich, often talking about how she went to the same school as Bruce Wayne and how she was a popular cheerleader before her life fell apart. She doesn't talk much on the topic but it's clear she holds distain for your father and, by extension, you.

You sigh to yourself, you need to shower. That means you need to get past them without them bringing you into it. Or you just don't shower for the night and have one tomorrow...

Your mom screams something out about not throwing knives and you decide to just shower tomorrow morning.

You change out of your costume and hide it safely under a loose floorboard, you change into your pajamas and get into bed. Today was a massive mental drain and physical drain.

...

You awake to a knock at the front door. Your parents usually ignore it and make you answer when someone knocks because "you're dispensable" as they say. Looking at the clock on the wall of the kitchen you see it's around 7am.

Groggily making your way to the door you look through the peep hole and see Tim standing awkwardly on the other side with a guy next to him, the guy next to him being so big and tall that you could only see a small part of his chest and arm.

You curse to yourself quietly, this is by far the worst luck you've ever had.

You open the door and look at the two. Now seeing the other guy the thing that stands out is a stripe of white hair on his head. Instantly you know it's Jason Todd.

You aren't an idiot. He's the only one in the family built like how he is - not including Bruce.

"What do you want?" You ask, annoyed. Tim chuckles weakly, as if nervous. "Wayne Enterprises wishes to give your mother her letter of departure." You blink once, then twice. "Huh? Letter of departure? The fuck does that mean?" You mutter, genuinely confused.

Jason scoffs, "it means your dear mother is losing her job, kid." He states uncaring of how blunt he's being. Tim elbows him and hisses something about being more considerate.

You don't listen, all noise becoming white noise. Why is she being fired? She works hard, she dedicates her time, she does her best! Is this because you have beef with Tim? That's not fair!

She's the only stable source of income, without that job you all would be living on the streets. You've heard AND seen so many horror stories about teens living on the streets, it's something you'd pray never happened to you. But now it's entirely probable.

So, in a moment of desperation you grip Tim by his shoulders "Please! You can't fire her! We'll end up homeless! She works all the time, she tries! My mother will improve if you ask, she needs this job. The whole family does!"

Tim seems shocked by this, his posture stiffening. Jason looks on guard, as if assessing whether he should step in, though he doesn't seem fond of the idea. You wouldn't doubt that he was made to accompany Tim as a body guard.

Tim opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. Clearly he wasn't expecting you to beg for your mother to keep her job.

"Uh... Look, I don't mean any harm by it, it's just that we need to make way for brighter minds..." He stumbles slightly over his words as if making the excuse up on the spot.

You won't back down however. "Tim, please, I desperately need you to realize this. I. Will. Die. On. The. Streets." Probably not true because of your mutation but the fear remains. "Please, I'll do anything for you to not do this! I already promised Bruce to stop talking bad about Aranea!" You please desperately.

Tim glances to Jason who quirks a brow and shrugs. The sound of movement from behind you makes your eyes widen and behind you you see your dad approaching, you were probably too loud.

He glares at you before yanking your hair so you move away from Tim and remove your clutches on him. You hiss in pain at the feeling but bow your head down.

Your dad eyes the two boys before looking to the paper in Tim's hands. He instantly knows what's going on and storms down the hallways of the complex to do who-knows what. That scares you. Your dad is unpredictable.

After some silence Tim speaks up. "Are you okay? Your dad pulled your hair pretty tightly..." You look down, ashamed. You couldn't even bother putting your walls up and defending your pride. Your life is basically falling apart at the seams.

"... I'll do anything for you to not fire my mother..." You mutter meekly, a far cry from how you usually act, something Tim notices immediately. He sighs to himself, he debates the odds. Maybe if he doesn't fire (Reader)'s mother then they can be even. The feud can end, it was pointless on your part to begin with for hating someone so sweet and kind, then hating him who defends the innocent.

"Fine. Your mother can stay, but, it may not be permanent. I suggest she find elsewhere in the mean time." Tim states before walking off. Jason takes a second to stare at your relived form, the slight smile of disbelief and look of relief in your eyes. He then leaves with Tim.

You close the door to the apartment and sink to the floor. That was terrifying. You'll have find a way of telling your mother the news before she goes into work in two hours.

You're officially having the day off from school and patrol today.

[jflemingology]

Breaking Point | Jessie Fleming x reader

In which: the stress concerning everything going on with the national team causes Jessie to lash out at you

Warnings: little bit of angst, if you can even call it that? Argument but they make up, fluff at the end :)

WC: 5.3K

A/N: Based on these two requests! Thought they were similar enough to be grouped together. Really enjoyed writing this, it's quite a long one too. Hope you enjoy! <3

Divider: @cafekitsune

You were just downing the rest of your morning coffee when you heard a notification come through on your phone. The clock read 8am, which meant it was 5pm in France. If you remembered correctly, Jessie had a tactical meeting from 4:30 to 5:30 so it couldn't be her. You made your way over to the couch where you left the device earlier. Your eyes widened upon seeing the headline from CBC News.

"BREAKING: Canada Women's National Team Coach Dismissed From Olympics Amid Drone Scandal"

Your jaw fell slack. You had heard a little something here and there from the spying case, but you didn't know it had gone this far. Jessie hadn't told you much about it either. Despite being in the leadership group now she tried as much as possible to put it next to her – focusing on the controlables; her football.

Being away from Jessie was hard. Your schedules clashed quite frequently; her being away for games or for camps, you being away for business trips with your company. You knew what the downsides were going to be about dating your Canadian, but you wouldn't change it for the world. On moments like this, though, when you knew Jessie was going to be put under enormous loads of stress, you'd much rather be by her side in France than on the other side of the world in Portland.

Jessie was adamant you stayed home. Going with her to France would've meant you giving up on one of your projects you'd worked on the last couple of months, and as much as Jessie would've loved to have you by her side throughout the tournament, she knew that this was important to you.

So here you were, back in your shared apartment in Portland, sat on the couch not knowing what to do. You went over the options in your mind. You could call her, but you didn't know if she was free right now. Texting her seemed a safer option, but maybe she would want to come to you with the news instead of you coming to her about it. So that's what you did, you spent your morning dancing between trying to get some chores done and checking back with your phone if you hadn't magically missed a notification in the last 30 seconds.

After what felt like ages, just as you were about to take a shower – you'd contemplated it for a good 20 minutes, because what if she called while you were in there –, your phone rang. You sprung up from the side of the bathtub and knocked your elbow against the wall in the process, silently cursing while crossing your bathroom in quick strides.

You grabbed your phone and headed back into your bedroom, accepting the call once you made sure it was your girlfriend who was calling. "Hi," you breathed out as you sat down on the edge of your bed. "Hey baby."

Jessie sounded tired, and you noticed how her voice wavered – despite the effort to conceal it. A silence fell over your conversation, neither of you knowing what to say nor how to tackle the subject at hand. "How are you feeling?"

You tried your luck with an easy question. As far as she knew, you could be talking about how she was feeling after Canada's game against New Zealand yesterday – which they won 2-1. You had stayed up to watch her game, the bags beneath your eyes more than worth it seen as your girlfriend helped Canada win their game with an assist and a great performance.

If she remained silent any longer, you would've thought she had hung up on you, but right on cue Jessie spoke up. "Okay. Could be better. It's been a rocky afternoon," you hummed, acknowledging what she said.

"Is there anything I can do for you?", you knew she would probably say no, but that was Jessie's way of coping. She toughened up, built her walls a little higher than they already were. You had worked really hard over the past three years of your relationship to meticulously tear them down – and most of the time she kept them down around you –, but not everyone was that lucky. Especially in moments like these, stressful situations, you expected her to bring them back up.

"I'm fine," she quipped back. It came out quite harsh, and it left you a little taken aback. You bit back a disappointing sigh. "I know you are, Jess. You're strong and I know you can handle these situations. But that doesn't mean that you can't talk about it," you knew you were starting to push her, but you also knew that if you didn't, she'd never talk about it and bottle it up until one time it'd explode. You'd been the dupe of that a handful of times, and you knew that you were better off pushing her to say something than letting it get to that stage.

"Babe, I said I'm fine," she paused but you felt like she had more to say, so you didn't counter her. Jessie took a deep breath before she continued. "I'm fine." You felt like she was leaving many things unspoken. Even though you didn't feel confident in what she said, you decided to leave it for now and enquire her about the rest of her day.

You sensed an end was coming to your conversation. A glance at the clock taught you that Jessie would probably have to hang up soon, because she told you earlier that she had a couple media appointments to attend to that evening. She hadn't told you what for, but it was more than clear what the reason was. Still, after 20 minutes of conversation, the subject hadn't been mentioned directly. As much as you felt like Jessie needed this break away from the whirlwind that it had been this afternoon, you felt like she was excluding you and it wasn't a nice feeling.

Just as you were going to say your goodbyes to each other, you interrupted her. "Jessie, wait. I know you'd rather not talk about it but I just want to reassure you that if you're ready, I'm here for you, okay?", there was no malice intent to what you said. As you told her, it was just about making sure your girlfriend knew you were there for her if she wanted to talk to you. And maybe, just maybe, you were hoping you could pull something out of her – but you'd never expected the response you got in return.

"Please, for the love of God, I'm fine!", you could sense the irritability in her voice and went quiet. Jessie rarely ever raised her voice at you, so her tone took you by surprise. "I've told you I'm fine plenty of times, what don't you understand? I don't want to talk about it and especially not with you. I called you to get it all off my mind and not talk about the bullshit that I've had to deal with here but clearly you can't even catch a hint. Honestly I don't even know why I bother with calling you anymore, if you can't even give me a break from my football."

Before you could muster up a response, you heard the sound of the call ending. You slowly retracted your phone from your ear, remaining seated on the edge of your bed for a little while before you came back to your senses. You had nothing but good intentions with the way you handled the situation, although you could acknowledge that maybe you pushed her a bit too far. That aside though, you didn't feel like you deserved her lashing out to you like that. You fought back the tears that were threatening to spill when you thought back about the way she snapped at you, so out of character and something she'd never done before. Sure, you two argued from time to time but it never ended up like this. You sighed deeply before pushing the call and what your girlfriend said to the back of your mind, finally hopping in the shower and hoping she would come back to you sooner rather than later.

–

Jessie let her body fall against her mattress after she ended the call. Deep down she knew you were full of good intentions but it hadn't done her any good that you pushed, and she snapped. She'd never snapped at you before, not in the way she did now. She'd raised her voice, not often, but that was something that occurred from time to time. But it was different now. Especially the way the call ended, it wasn't just something that would pass overnight.

She rubbed her hands over her face and stared up at the ceiling as she fought back tears. Out of frustration or sadness – she didn't know. What she did know, is that an argument with her girlfriend was the last thing she needed to be added to the pile of growing worries.

Jessie's watch read 6:03pm now, which meant that she had to go down for dinner soon. She grabbed her keycard and left her hotel room, taking the elevator down to the dining hall. She rehashed the conversation you were having merely 5 minutes ago in her head while the elevator took her downstairs, thinking about where it went wrong and why she snapped at her. Jessie's frustration settled rather quickly after the call and insecurity settled in, the realization hitting her that she probably overreacted.

The bell of the elevator pulled her out of her thoughts. She dragged herself towards the noise, mentally preparing herself to plaster a smile on her face for the next couple hours.

As much as she did her best to conceal how she was feeling inside, her inactivity and lack of participation in conversations around the table had grabbed some people's attention. Janine, especially, could tell that Jessie was acting off. She knew Jessie liked to take a walk after dinner, so when she set off, Janine followed suit a couple moments later.

She jogged up to her Canadian teammate who was trudging along the hotel perimeter. "Jess!", Jessie's head turned to the side upon hearing her name, offering Janine a tight-lipped smile when she joined her. "You okay, bud?", she threw an arm around Jessie who shrugged and looked down at her feet.

"My girlfriend and I had an argument earlier," Janine hummed, allowing Jessie the space to explain herself further. "And I think I'm the one that caused it.", Janine sucked in a breath through her teeth and squeezed Jessie's shoulder. "Dog house?"

She shrugged again, seemingly the only appropriate response she could come up with as she didn't speak further. "Wanna tell me what happened?", Janine tried. Jessie took a deep breath before she recited the whole story of what happened when you two were on the phone earlier, while taking a detour of the path she'd normally walk – allowing Janine and herself a bit more time to talk about what was going on.

"So yeah, that's where we are at right now. I sent her a quick message to check in after dinner but she's giving me the cold shoulder – I got left on read. And I don't know how to go about things now."

Before she replied anything, Janine couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped her lips. Jessie frowned and looked at her friend, confused as to what she found funny. "You're one of a kind, Jeff. Honestly. You've got a caring girlfriend that's on the other side of the world right now, and all she wants is to check in. She can't physically be with you so the only thing you can do right now is be emotionally available.", Janine grabbed Jessie's shoulders and halted them both, turning their bodies towards each other. "I know you don't like speaking about your feelings, but this is a serious matter, Jessie. This is not a silly subject, it's about your job. Our job. It's okay to be insecure, to be in your head, to be annoyed at the situation and to not know how the future is going to ensue. And it's more than okay to voice those feelings to someone – especially your partner. You've gotta let her in sometimes, okay? I know you're reserved but if anyone deserves to be opened up to, it's her."

Jessie closed her eyes and sighed, and Janine physically felt tension escape her shoulders as she still had her hands on them. "How about you fly her out here? Things like that are better talked about in person. If I remember correctly, the project she stayed home for was presented two days ago. Is her schedule free for the rest of the week?"

Jessie quickly checked your shared calendar on her phone and saw your free – granted nothing had been planned that you didn't put in the calendar yet. "Yeah, she should be. There's nothing in the calendar that she can't miss."

When she looked up her eyes found Janine's, who were full of concern. "Make it up to her, okay? Fly her out, talk to her about it. Maybe it'll give you a boost on the pitch too. We're all tackling this issue together, but it won't work if you get yourself into precarious situations like these. I know you love her, then show her too."

Jessie nodded, Janine's words convincing the Canadian midfielder to make things right with you.

-

From: Jess 🤍 "Hi baby, I checked the calendar and as far as I can tell you don't have any obligations at work anymore. I remember them telling you if you wanted to come to the Olympics for a couple days you could, so here's a plane ticket. It's for tomorrow and you would arrive in time for our game against France. I'd love for you to be there and have you with me again, and for us to have a chance to talk about things. Please?"

You had just woken up from a nap to Jessie's message. It was quite late in the evening in France now, way past Jessie's usual bedtime which confused you. She wasn't one to miss her 9 hours of sleep, especially not during tournaments.

You had ignored her previous message when she checking in with you a couple hours ago. You knew you were probably being unreasonable, but you wanted to let her know in one way or another that you weren't pleased with the way she handled the situation – didn't matter if she was under a big stress load or not.

You typed out a couple responses, none of them which seemed suitable to you. In the end, you settled on something relatively simple, yet would probably settle her worries around you a little.

From: You Thank you, I'll be there. Kick ass. ❤️

You finished up packing the next day around 10am and set off, your flight departing at 2pm which left you enough time to grab an Uber to the airport and be comfortably on time.

You arrived 2 and a half hours early, giving you enough time to check in and go through bag checks, making sure your gate exists before settling down on one of the free seats. You tried to kill some time by replying to some emails before you officially made an "Out of office"-announcement for a couple days.

The flight went reasonably smooth. Jessie got you a business class ticket – you always assured her there was no need –, because she 'only wanted the best for you'. You slept through most of the itinerary and when you woke up you let Jessie know you were almost there. The jet lag was something you'd have to deal with later, but all in all you were very excited to see your girlfriend. Argument aside, you'd not seen her for 4 weeks now and it was weighing down on you anyway – missing her embrace, her touch, her smell, her kisses.

You had booked a night at a hotel not far from where Canada would play France tomorrow, but far enough from Jessie's hotel to not be tempted to go over. The team didn't allow any visitors on the day before a match, and you knew Jessie wouldn't appreciate that either right now. Considering the energy between the two of you was still tense, meeting you now wouldn't be a joyful conversation for her, it would only add more stress to the load that was already on her shoulders and you wanted nothing less than to be an extra burden.

You spent your afternoon exploring the streets of Saint-Etienne, an adorable city where Jessie and her teammates would face France in Stade Geoffroy Guichard tomorrow. Soon enough the evening came and you ordered takeaway in your room, not feeling comfortable enough to go to a restaurant by yourself in an unknown country. You spent your evening scrolling through the French channels on tv, quickly realizing that the little French you taught yourself was way less useful than you thought it was. You fell asleep quite quickly after a long day of traveling.

-

Jessie woke up the next day feeling much better than before she went to bed, a whole lot of pressure off her shoulders ever since she knew you got to Saint-Etienne safe and well, and especially since she knew she was finally going to see you again tonight.

The usual matchday routine started for Jessie and her teammates, trying to dance around the ongoing scandal allegations and trying to manage the team without Bev in place. They prepared themselves as best as possible for the game and tried to put everything towards the back of their minds and focussed on the task at hand; trying to beat France in their second group match. The points may have been deducted, but that didn't mean they wouldn't go full on and leave it all out on the pitch. There was little chance, but it wasn't lost yet. And as long as there was opportunity, Jessie and her teammates would rise to the occasion.

Breakfast, mobility sessions, pre-match walk, it all went smoothly. Jessie had to refrain from texting you and asking what you were up to, but she knew that was a place she wouldn't come back from. She had always taken it upon her not to text you on matchdays, she liked her own bubble and as much as she wanted to break it for you on this occasion, she had something more important at hand tonight.

It was only on the short bus journey from the hotel where the Canadian team stayed at to the stadium when Jessie started to get nervous. She'd done incredibly well to keep all the nervosity at bay throughout the day, but reality came crashing down on her on the bus and she couldn't help but get a little anxious. It was the first time the Canadians would step onto the pitch since the scandal escalated. What would the reaction of the fans be? How will it be received? How will it feel to play against the home crowd? Jessie tried to ground herself by playing her pre-match playlist through her headphones instead of listening to the songs that were being played on the bus speaker.

Arriving at the stadium, it was easy for Jessie and the team to just go through the motions. Entering the changing room, getting changed into the warm-up gear, getting massaged or strapped by the physios, having an energy gel or drink – it was a routine that was engraved into their minds, no one in that room had to think twice about anything they were about to do. Some things came easy in football, and this was one of them. It's things like this that ground the team; the routines, things they could hold onto.

When coach called it was time for the team to go out for warm-ups, Jessie called the girls into a huddle in the changing room.

"Let's do this, yeah? We're up against the home team and their crowd today, it won't be easy. We might also be up against a whole lot more people seen what happened the past couple days. But that's not our focus right now. Let's go out there and show that we're pretty damn good footballers, yeah? I believe in us. In every single one of you. If you believe in yourself, we have one hell of a shot at turning this situation around. Canada on three. One, two, three..."

-

"... CANADA!", you only caught the back end of what the stadium speaker said, but you didn't care. Jessie had just scored the equalizer for her team in the 58th minute of the game, bringing the score back level and giving Canada a second chance of grabbing something from this game.

Jessie's mum engulfed you in a tight hug in means of celebrating her daughter's goal together. You high-fived her dad and her siblings, who were also in the family box watching the game.

You'd made it to the game just in time, Saint-Etienne traffic taking you by surprise as a quick Uber to the stadium turned into a 30-minute start and stop journey. You'd rushed to the family box, greeting Jessie's family before your eyes scanned the pitch looking for your freckled Canadian. Warm-ups were long done and the players were just about walking on the pitch, getting ready for the anthems. You noticed Jessie singing along, eyes closed while she took everything in. Your eyes stayed locked on her figure, waiting until she opened hers again. When the anthem finished, Jessie looked up to her family box and you couldn't miss the little grin that formed on her face when she saw you. You gave her a small wave which she reciprocated eagerly, then quickly falling back into captain's duties and getting ready for the game.

So now you were here. You were sure you didn't have any nails left, your leg bouncing up and down as the clock slowly but surely ticked further leaving the Canadians with little time to score a potential winner. The fourth official held up the board that said there would be thirteen minutes of extra time, a wave of excitement being heard from the stands from both sets of fans who believed their team could score a second goal.

Then, everything seemed to happen so quickly. Janine made a wonderful defensive move before passing a through ball to Adriana. She laid the ball of to Jordyn whose shot got saved, but the keeper had nothing against Vanessa's rebound. It felt like ages between the ball leaving her foot and the net rippling, but they had done it. They had scored in the 103rd minute and they successfully saved their Olympic group stage, giving them a chance at qualifying for the knock-out stages of the tournament.

You jumped up and down, no longer trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill across your cheeks. You found yourself once again engulfed in a hug, a big family hug this time. "They did it!", you screamed to Elysse. You could tell she was having a hard time to keep it dry too, endlessly proud of her sister and teammates.

Not long after, the whistle blew and the game was officially over. The Canadians made their way around the pitch making sure to thank as many fans as possible for having made the long trip from Canada to France. They took pictures, signed jerseys, gave away boots, until they found themselves in front of the family boxes.

They all started climbing up and over the barriers and made their way to their friends and families, as you took a step back from the group to allow Jessie to talk to her parents and siblings first. She got engulfed in many hugs, accepting the congratulations from many other people around her. As captain, she had led this team to a historic win and you couldn't be more proud of her. When conversation died down with her family she slowly retreated from that group and tentatively made her way over to you, a slight smile creeping on her face once you noticed her coming up to you. She stopped right in front of you, locking her eyes with yours.

"Is it okay if we talk about everything later, please? I missed you and I really, really want to kiss you right now."

You hummed in agreement and couldn't stop the bright smile from spreading across your face when Jessie closed the final couple steps of distance between the both of you and wrapped you in a tight embrace, digging her face into the crook of your neck. "I missed you so much," you could just about make out the words she mumbled against your skin and you pulled her impossibly tighter against you. "I missed you too, Jess. I'm so proud of you," she retreated her head from your neck and you cupped her cheeks, looking her in the eyes. "You've done incredibly well. What you did tonight is amazing. I couldn't be more proud."

You leaned in closer to her and waited for Jessie to cross the final bits of space before you finally pressed your lips against hers. You couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped your throat upon the feeling, Jessie chuckling and digging her fingers into your waist. In this moment it felt like you'd never ever been apart, her lips slotting perfectly against yours and bodies moulding together. Jessie deepened the kiss as you started playing with the baby hairs at the back of her neck, a shiver going through her body when she felt the soft touch of your fingertips on the sensitive skin. Before you could get carried away, you broke the kiss with a teasing bite on her bottom lip, smiling ear to ear as you locked eyes again.

"Go get a shower, you must be cold. I'll wait for you up here," Jessie nodded and pressed another chaste kiss against your lips, savoring the feeling of being together again and having you at arm's length, rather than on the other side of the world with a 9 hour time difference.

Jessie emerged from the changing rooms about an hour later, caught up in conversation with some of her teammates when she entered the family box. Her parents and siblings had already left, their journey to their hotel quite a bit longer than yours. You were waiting for your girlfriend while sipping on a drink you'd ordered, when she dropped her washbag next to you and put her hands on your shoulders, towering over you as you were sat down.

"You wanna get going? We're allowed to have a visitor to stay the night the evening after matchday. I've not been able to make use of that yet, so I'd like to do so now," you grinned at your girlfriend and nodded your head, excited about the idea of sleeping in her arms again tonight.

The ride to the hotel went smooth. Jessie came with the team bus so you had to get a taxi back there, which caused a dent in Jessie's wallet but you both went with it. The ride was silent, and as much as you enjoyed being in your girlfriend's presence, you could feel the air shifting. It grew tense upon nearing the hotel, unspoken words hanging between the both of you as you knew you'd have to talk about things later. You grabbed Jessie's hand that was in her lap and pulled it into yours, steading yourself with her touch.

Once arrived, you greeted and congratulated some of the other Canadian players who had also brought their partner back to the hotel. They were all mingling in the entrance hall as you moved past them, Jessie leading the two of you to the elevator and towards her room on the second floor.

Seen as the squad moved around the south of France for their games they didn't have a set hotel, which meant they couldn't really make it their own space. This meant that no home comforts were trickled around the room, something Jessie would normally do when she was away for multiple weeks for camps or tournaments. You let her unpack her stuff while you sat down on the bed, having quickly changed into something more comfortable and forgiving.

A few minutes later Jessie joined you in bed, ushering you both to lay under the covers as she claimed to be cold and tired, wanting to be in bed properly. You laid on your back as she cuddled up next to you, a big smile on her face as she finally felt the warmth of your embrace again. She pressed a kiss against your chest and let out a sigh of relief.

"How are you feeling, Jess?", you were well aware the last time you posed your girlfriend this question it turned out in a way no one wanted, but you were confident it wouldn't happen this time. Jessie shifted and positioned herself so that she could look up at you, a faint smile lingering on her lips. "I feel good. Genuinely. Better than I have been feeling the past couple days," you nodded, silently pushing her to go on. "It's been a lot but the game and you being here have helped me settle. Thank you," she pressed a fleeting kiss against your lips to accentuate her words.

You reciprocated the kiss, but pulled away rather quickly to not get lost in her affection. Jessie understood why you did and spoke up again. "I'm sorry about what happened the other day. I shouldn't have snapped at you," you soothingly rubbed her back when you sensed the nervosity that crept in her voice. "It had been a rough day and I wanted nothing more than to unwind and talk to you about other things, but when you started pushing I just couldn't bare with it anymore. I know you were just trying to do good, though. I talked about it to Janine and she made me realize that I'm not honest enough with you. I always try and bottle up my feelings, but that ends disastrous in ways like it did between us two days ago. I promise I'll try and be better for you. For us."

Her words were laced with emotion, her voice soft as she tried to keep the emotions at bay upon expressing how she felt about the situation. You wiped away a stray tear that had escaped her eye and was making its way across her cheek, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. "Thank you, baby. I want to be there for you, but you need to let me. It's a two-way thing, okay? We both give, we both take."

Jessie nodded, shifting again and now burying her face in your neck, soaking up the warmth of being under the covers together. "Thank you", she mumbled barely audible against your skin. You let out a chuckle at her words. "What for?", you asked. "Just, for being you. For being the person you are and for dealing with my moods. I love you so much," she lifted her head from out of your neck and looked you in the eyes before she lowered her head and pressed her lips against yours. "I love you too," you mumbled against her lips before you two got lost in one another and made up in different ways for all the time you had missed out on together the past month.

[idkyetxoxo]

Gwayne Hightower - Redemption

Summary - A spirited princess enchants the fallen knight, Ser Gwayne with her charm challenging him to seek redemption in the most tantalizing way. Their flirtatious banter ignites a heated encounter, driving him to extraordinary lengths in his quest for atonement.

Pairing - Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2205

Masterlist for Gwayne • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Far and wide, it was known throughout the realm that of the two Targaryen princesses, I was the more mischievous. My reputation preceded me, a blend of spirited antics and a loose tongue that often set the court abuzz.

"I believe I shall perish if I am not more thoroughly entertained," I declared dramatically as Alicent, Rhaenyra, and I sat together, watching the tourney unfold before us.

"You always need some sort of spectacle, don't you?" Rhaenyra said, feigning exasperation. I responded by sticking my tongue out at her, which made her smile.

"What can I say? I simply must be entertained at all times," I replied, my eyes wandering over the arena in search of any new and interesting faces.

"Who is our uncle about to joust?" I asked curiosity piqued as a confident knight rode around on his horse, preparing for the match.

"My brother Gwayne," Alicent answered.

I leaned forward, my interest now fully engaged. Gwayne removed his face shield and glanced in our direction. As expected, his stature matched his looks, he was indeed a strikingly handsome knight.

"Oh my," I murmured, my voice low and tinged with intrigue.

Alicent's eyebrows shot up in surprise, while Rhaenyra playfully swatted my leg. I leaned back in my seat, lifting my arms in a gesture of mock surrender, but not before sending the now-curious knight a flirtatious wink and a teasing bite of my lip.

As the joust began, the clashing of lances and the thunder of hooves filled the air. Gwayne rode with impressive skill, but his opponent, my uncle was formidable. With a particularly forceful strike, Gwayne was unseated, falling to the ground in a flurry of dust and metal.

"Better luck next time," I whispered to myself, a smirk playing on my lips. 

The match might have ended, but my interest in the knight was far from waning.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

Later that evening, as the festivities continued, I wandered through the castle's winding corridors, seeking a reprieve from the crowded halls. 

I was lost in thought when, as if guided by fate, I turned a corner and nearly collided with Gwayne himself. He had changed out of his armour into more casual attire, but his presence was no less striking.

"Ah, the mighty knight who fell so spectacularly today," I teased, my voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

Gwayne raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. "And here I thought I might escape unnoticed."

"Escape? From me? Impossible," I replied, leaning against the cool stone wall of the corridor, crossing my arms with a dramatic flourish. "Tell me, how does it feel to be bested in front of the entire realm?"

He chuckled, the sound rich and deep, taking a deliberate step closer. "I admit, it was a blow to my pride but I suppose it makes for a more interesting story, doesn't it?"

"Indeed," I replied, matching his step forward. "Though, I must say, you took it rather well. Most men would be sulking in their chambers."

"Ah, but I am not most men," he said, his eyes locking with mine. "And you, Princess, are not most women."

"True enough," I said, tilting my head slightly as I studied his face. "But tell me, Ser Gwayne, how do you plan to redeem yourself after such a loss?"

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear as he spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. "Perhaps you will find out at the next tourney. Or perhaps I shall redeem myself in other ways."

"Intriguing," I said, my eyes narrowing playfully as I considered his words. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with."

"Do you now?" he asked, his smirk widening. "I didn't take you for one to wait passively for entertainment."

"Who says I am?" I countered, stepping even closer until there was barely a breath between us. "Sometimes, the best entertainment is in watching someone strive to impress."

"Is that so?" His voice was low, almost a purr. "And have I managed to impress you yet, Princess?"

"You've managed to pique my interest," I admitted, letting my gaze linger on his lips before meeting his eyes again. "Which is more than most can say."

"Well then," he said, his hand lightly brushing against my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. "I shall consider that a victory in its own right."

"You do have a way with words, Ser Gwayne," I remarked, my tone as light as the banter we exchanged, but charged with an undercurrent of something more.

"And you, Princess, have a way of making a man forget his losses," he replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Careful, Ser Gwayne," I said, my voice softening to a whisper, "flattery will get you everywhere with me."

"Then I shall continue to flatter," he said, his smile almost predatory, yet warm and inviting. "For I find that I enjoy seeing you smile."

"Good," I replied, stepping back but not before letting my fingers trail down his arm. "Keep it up, and who knows? You might just redeem yourself sooner than you think."

The tension between us was evident, and as I turned to walk away, Gwayne reached out and gently caught my wrist. I turned back to face him, a playful glint in my eye.

"Not so fast," he murmured, his voice husky and laden with intent.

"Impatient, are we?" I teased, stepping closer until our bodies were nearly touching. "What are you going to do about it?"

Without another word, he closed the distance, capturing my lips in a heated kiss. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me against him as my fingers tangled in his hair. 

The corridor around us seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of us in our bubble of desire.

Breaking the kiss, I looked up at him, breathless. I took his hand and led him through the castle's labyrinthine halls. My heart pounded with anticipation, and I could feel his gaze on me, burning with intensity.

We reached my chambers, and I pushed the door open, pulling him inside. Once the door was closed, I turned to face him, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. 

Slowly, I began to undo the laces of my dress, my eyes never leaving his.

"You're going to have to earn your redemption, Ser Gwayne," I said, my voice a sultry whisper.

He took a step closer, his eyes darkening with desire. "And how do you suggest I do that, Princess?"

"Watch and learn," I replied, letting my dress slip from my shoulders and pool at my feet. I walked towards him, each step deliberate and teasing, until I was close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

Gwayne's breath hitched as I reached up to trace a finger along his jawline, my touch light and teasing. "Are you ready to impress me?" I asked, my voice a soft purr.

"More than ready," he replied, his voice rough with desire.

With a smile, I leaned in to kiss him again, this time slower, savouring the moment. His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve and dip, as I guided him towards the bed. Our kiss deepened, becoming more passionate as we gave in to the irresistible pull between us.

His clothes were pulled off in a frenzy of passion, leaving us both naked and exposed to the cool air of my chambers. There was a brief, electric pause as we took in each other's forms, desire evident in our eyes. 

With a commanding presence, Gwayne pushed me down onto the bed, and I let him take charge, intrigued by how exactly he planned to impress me.

His hands, rough from years of wielding a sword, caressed my legs, lifting them into the air. His eyes, darkened with lust, held mine as he began to pepper soft, tantalizing kisses along my inner thighs. Each touch sent waves of heat coursing through my body, and I couldn't help but arch my back, a soft moan escaping my lips.

"You're already off to a good start," I murmured, my voice breathless.

Gwayne chuckled, the sound deep and husky, as his kisses inched closer to where I most wanted them. His mouth moved with slow, deliberate precision, his lips warm and moist against my skin. He traced the sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue, leaving a trail of burning sensation in its wake. 

The anticipation was intoxicating, and I felt my body responding to his every touch.

"Patience, Princess," he whispered against my skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. "I want to savour this."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, urging him closer. He obliged, his lips finally finding their mark. His tongue flicked softly against my most sensitive spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. 

He alternated between gentle, teasing licks and firmer, more insistent strokes, his lips sealing around me to create a delicious suction. His movements were skilful, his tongue and lips working in harmony to drive me to the edge of madness.

"Oh," I gasped, my voice trembling with pleasure.

He paused briefly, looking up at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not bad for a fallen knight, hmm?"

"Not bad at all," I managed to reply, my breath hitching as he resumed his ministrations. "But let's see if you can truly impress me."

His grin widened, and he redoubled his efforts. His hands roamed over my thighs, squeezing and massaging the soft flesh as his mouth continued its assault. His tongue moved with a maddening rhythm, swirling and flicking in a way that left me breathless. 

The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that left me trembling beneath him. 

Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, he slowed his pace, drawing out my pleasure and prolonging the exquisite torment.

I writhed beneath him, my hands gripping the sheets as I surrendered to the waves of ecstasy crashing over me. He didn't relent, his mouth and hands continuing their assault until I was teetering on the edge of release. His fingers joined in, slipping inside me with a deftness that sent shivers through my entire body.

"Gwayne," I cried out, my voice a desperate plea.

He looked up, his eyes locking with mine, and in that moment, he gave me exactly what I needed. The world seemed to shatter around me as I was consumed by a powerful climax, my body arching off the bed as I called out his name.

As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, Gwayne shifted his focus, his lips capturing mine in a passionate, commanding kiss. I could taste my pleasure on his lips, and it only fueled my desire further. 

Drawing him closer, my hands roamed over his muscular back, feeling the tension and strength beneath my fingertips.

He aligned himself at my entrance, his eyes locked with mine as he gradually pressed inside. The sensation was exquisite, a slow, delicious stretch that filled me. I gasped and wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

Gwayne moved with a steady, deliberate rhythm, each thrust deep and measured. His touch was methodical, aimed at drawing out my pleasure. His hands roamed my hips and thighs, while his lips lavished attention on my neck and breasts, his kisses and nibbles making me shiver with delight.

"Gods, you feel incredible," he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with desire.

I could only moan in response, my fingers gripping his shoulders as I met his thrusts. Our bodies moved in seamless harmony, the friction and heat between us building steadily. When he shifted his angle slightly, the head of his shaft brushed against a sensitive spot deep inside me, sending jolts of pleasure through my core.

I cried out, my nails scraping down his back as I clung to him, overwhelmed by the sensations.

"Right there," I gasped, my voice trembling. "Don't stop."

Gwayne responded to my plea, his movements growing more intense and urgent. His gaze remained fixed on mine, driving me higher and higher. The pressure inside me built to a crescendo, the promise of release just beyond my grasp.

"Cum for me, Princess," he whispered, his voice a rough command.

I unravelled beneath him, my body trembling violently as the force of my orgasm overtook me. Gwayne's thrusts continued unabated, extending my pleasure and drawing out every lingering wave of ecstasy. He maintained a steady rhythm, even as my muscles tightened around him, pulling him in with each wave of release.

As my climax subsided, he quickened his pace, his own need apparent in the way his body tensed and his breath came in ragged bursts. I could feel him approaching the edge, his control slipping as he sought his own release.

With a groan, he plunged deep one final time, his body convulsing as he reached his peak. I held him close, feeling the warmth of his release fill me as our bodies remained entwined in the aftermath.

For a moment, we lay there, tangled together, our breaths mingling as we came down from the heights of our pleasure. Gwayne's hand brushed my hair from my face, his touch gentle and tender.

"You, Princess, are truly remarkable," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

I smiled, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. "And you, Ser Gwayne, have more than redeemed yourself."

A/n - Who knew saving face was such a literal term in medieval jousting x

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Fourteen

This was a bit of a rollercoaster of a chapter, with angst, fluff, maybe a bit of romance too, but overall ends on a sweet note. This is also my longest chapter in a bit oops

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Yunho's fight and getting called back to the company, plus more angry Hongjoong because we love an angry captain. wc: 4.8k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  warnings: fighting, non-graphic descriptions of injuries, angry alphas, slight panicking by y/n, Hongjoong being angry aover many things, talks about supressing heats for not good reasons, clingyness, mxm interactions, growling masterlist

She would come to find out later that the bystanders were almost smothered in the scent of her distress. But in the moment, y/n could only watch in horror as Yunho fought the other alpha, fists flying and too much movement to keep track of, until you noticed something fly out of Yunho’s pocket.

Watching as it flew towards her, she found it was Yunho’s phone. Y/n wasn’t able to catch it, but she picked it up from the ground. However, it was locked, and there was no way for her to guess his password. Though, just with her luck, she was able to open up the emergency call, and found that there was a number ready to be called. Calling that number, she hoped it was someone who would be able to help.

“Yunho?” She heard the person answer, and it took her a few moments to reply, prompting the other person to repeat Yunho’s name once again.

“This isn’t Yunho, but who are you?” Y/n asked the person on the other line, not recognizing the voice.

“Y/n? Why do you have Yunho’s phone? It’s me, Hongjoong.” He said, and y/n just breathed in a sigh of relief to hear the captain’s voice.

“There’s a bit of a situation here, can you come find us?” You asked him, whining at the end as you watched Yunho take a particularly brutal punch.

“What’s around you? Tell Alpha Hongjoong so he can find you,” Hongjoong said, finding that you couldn’t help but tell him after hearing his last words to you. Hongjoong had added a bit of his alpha voice into his last sentence, needing y/n to focus on what was around her so they could find her and Yunho quickly.

“Umm, there’s a convenience store to the left of me? It looks like a 7/11 I think? And there’s a bunch of food stalls around here too?” She said, looking around quickly.

She heard one of the other’s voices in the back, “I know where they are, let’s go!” She couldn’t tell who that was, but she knew they were on their way.

“Keep yourself safe, sweetheart, okay? We’ll be there as quickly as we can be, I promise.” Hongjoong told her before hanging up on her. 

She watched as Yunho took control of the fight, pinning the other alpha to the ground. It seemed she had missed a bit while talking to Hongjoong. She held her breath as she watched him, eyes flicking up every few seconds as she hoped the others would get there already.

It wasn’t until Yunho had beaten the other alpha half to unconsciousness, that the other seven arrived. Jongho, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa rushed over to your side as you watched the alphas pull Yunho off of the other alpha, who laid there for a moment before stumbling up and running away, not looking back.

“Yunho, what were you thinking?” Hongjoong asked him, his voice stern.

“He insulted y/n. He was being an asshole.” Yunho said, anger still clear in his voice and scent as the smell of oranges was taken over by the spicy smell of ginger, causing y/n to step back.

“This isn’t the time or place to do this. We’re going to head back to the company now. I’ve been requested to bring you all back with me.” Hongjoong informed him, placing a hand on the taller alpha’s shoulder and pulling him along, the smell of bitter coffee that stung her nose emanating from the shorter man as he passed by the three omegas and beta.

The four joined the group as the nine of them walked back to where their security would pick them up. When they arrived, there were two vans waiting for them, as well as one of the group’s managers, who ushered the group into two separate ones as they climbed into the black vans. Y/n chose to stick with Jongho, Wooyoung, Mingi and Yeosang as the other four climbed into the van behind theirs. They quickly took off towards the company, and for the first little while the car was silent. 

Yeosang was the first one to break the silence, “What do you think the company wants us for?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out soon.” Mingi answered his fellow alpha, and the car once again fell silent, and that continued until they arrived at KQ.

The four exited the van, only waiting a couple minutes more for the other half to arrive, and the full group entered the company building and followed Hongjoong as he took the lead and guided them to the same conference room they had been in earlier that day.

It was almost a mirror image of that morning’s meeting, except it was just her, Ateez and their management team.

“We want to get y/n’s contract signed quickly, so that we can get to work on adding her into the group.” One of the staff members stated.

“Hand over the contract then, please.” Hongjoong took charge, as he had pulled y/n to sit next to him for this meeting, having had a clue what was going on. 

Knowing that Hongjoong wouldn’t relent, they handed over the contract to him, who placed it in between himself and y/n, and Hongjoong helped y/n look over the major parts of the contract. While they did that, Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa, who was already messaging the group’s independent lawyer, so that they could look over the contract before their newest member signed it.

“It’s a standard contract that all of our artists sign,” Another staff member said, “The clauses in there are all industry standard.”

“No it’s not,” Hongjoong said, having found a couple clauses that he very much disagreed with, “I know neither of these clauses are industry standard. I negotiated them out of our renewed contracts, so why are they in hers?” He said, looking up at the staff with a raised eyebrow and a grin that no one wanted to be on the receiving end of.

“This is the standard contract. Why should she be given any other contract?” The same staff member asked.

“Because she’s part of my group now. She’ll get the same contract we have. She will not be forced to suppress her heats, nor will she have a separate dorm unless she explicitly requests that.” Hongjoong said, his voice teetering on the edge of anger.

“Well, we’d have to have a valid reason why she can’t follow what we’ve put in the contract.”

“The valid reason is the omegas in my group do not and will not risk their health for your ability to make us work.” Hongjoong states with a tone of finality, not willing to budge.

“Our lawyer is on their way, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa leaned over to tell him.

“Your lawyer?” Y/n finally spoke up, looking over at the two eldest.

“Yes, he’ll make sure that your contract matches ours, and will make sure that there’s nothing shady in it.” Hongjoong reassured y/n.

She was surprised that they would go this far for her, but in reality she shouldn’t be too surprised. As a group, they’ve done a lot to make her feel like a part of the group and this is just another way they’re doing that, but ensuring she would have a fair contract.

Mingi leaned behind Jongho, whispering, “Hyungs will make sure your contract is like ours, they won’t stand for anything being unfair to you. It’ll be okay. But bring it over between Jongho and I so we can tell you what else is in it.”

She managed to slide the contract between the three of them, and the two explained exactly what was in the contract to her, sometimes using a translator when things didn’t transfer between languages. She found the parts that Hongjoong pointed out to be the most egregious, with the exception of the one other part of the idol contract, that she felt was potentially malicious in its wording. She was intending to bring up that clause as well, as she wouldn’t abide by it.

It wasn’t long before the Ateez’s lawyer arrived, and Hongjoong, having realized that the contract was no longer in his possession, looked to find that y/n and the two men had nabbed it. He coughed to alert them to his presence, the three looking over and seeing that the captain had his hand out for the contract. 

Y/n handed it over, looking a little sheepish that she had taken it, despite the fact that it was her contract, so she was allowed to look at it. Hongjoong handed it over to the lawyer, who immediately took the seat offered to him by Seonghwa, who moved to stand behind the chairs of Jongho and y/n, his hands resting on the backs of the chairs.

“Hi baby omega, Joong-ah will get this sorted for you.” Seonghwa said to her as he leaned down closer to her, as she nodded.

“There’s another part of the contract I don’t like. It’s the one beneath the accommodations.” She looked up at the older omega as she spoke.

Though neither of them had to say that to Hongjoong, the man somehow heard her words despite his focus, and immediately pointed that out to the group’s lawyer, to the protest of one staff member. The same one who continued to insist that y/n’s contract was fine as is.

“It is not fine as it is,” Hongjoong fired back, before turning to y/n, “Y/n, what do you want to do for your accommodations? Do you want a separate apartment? Or would you like to stay with us in our dorm?” He asked her.

Y/n took a minute to think. It would be nice to have her own space, it would allow her the downtime she sorely needed sometime, and the space to be by herself. But on the other hand, she’d grow closer with the others if she moved in with them.

“I’m okay moving into your dorm, Hongjoong-oppa,” She answered, looking at him.

Hongjoong didn’t have to say a word as the lawyer amended that part of the contract. This was how the rest of the amendments went, Hongjoong asking her what she wanted, and once she answered him, that change was implemented in the contract. Hongjoong also changed the contract to allow for her to have as many heats during the year as her body required, though usually she only had two or three a year.

“Here’s the amended contract. We won’t accept any less than this.” The lawyer, whose name she never caught, said as they handed over the changed contract.

“You can’t go changing her contract for her,” That same staff member sputtered out.

“I can and I have. If you want to get fired, by all means keep protesting. I can and will walk away from KQ if you or other staff continue to cause trouble,” Hongjoong said.

“You’re going to this trouble for an omega. If you had gone with the nice beta, we wouldn’t have to deal with all of this nonsense.”

And that was where they stepped over the line. And where specific staff’s involvement that resulted in the chaos this morning was revealed. Hongjoong growled in anger at this information, and the younger four took to letting their frustration out on the poor (and not so poor) staff members. Hongjoong, who really seemed to work on instinct, pulled y/n close to him and led the omega out of the room to his studio, wanting to get away from the stress that their staff kept causing.

Y/n didn’t really have any choice but to let Hongjoong lead her away, watching as the alpha’s shoulders started to slowly relax, though his body was still tense. The captain of the group pushed open his studio door, pulling her inside before locking it and dragging both of them to the couch. Y/n was not expecting for the alpha to pull her down almost on top of him as Hongjoong pulled off the scent patch that he must have put on earlier while in the other van. The smell of bitter coffee and burnt vanilla permeated the room while y/n almost choked on the bitter scents.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong said, pulling her close and making her squeak in surprise.

“Sorry about what?” Y/n managed to get out, pushing away her surprise for the moment.

“For pulling you into this mess. I know I didn’t want anyone else joining at the beginning, and I surely didn’t want KQ to meddle with my group, but I’m grateful that you’re the one that we chose.” Hongjoong said, pulling her down at the end, burying his head in her neck to get better access to her scent, shocking y/n. 

She wasn’t expecting this today, even after what had happened the night prior. Where did this clingy Hongjoong come from? She couldn’t deny loving it, who wouldn’t want to be this close with Kim Hongjoong? But at the same time, this feels like something that should be reserved for packmates, not her, a random omega.

Her train of thoughts was broken by Hongjoong mumbling into her neck, “Why do you smell sad?”

“Sad?” She asked, confused.

“Yes, sad.” Hongjoong said.

“I’m not sad, Hongjoong-oppa.” Y/n told him.

“You smell sad, there must be something wrong. It’s okay, alpha is here.” Hongjoong said to her, his alpha feeling the need to try and make her happier.

Thankfully, for y/n’s poor heart, Seonghwa unlocked the door and let himself in to find the two on the couch.

“Hi y/n dear. Are you okay?” Seonghwa asked, to which she nodded.

“She’s sad.” Hongjoong told the omega, his face still buried in y/n’s neck.

Before Seonghwa could reply, two more members stumbled into the now unlocked studio. It turned out to be Yeosang and San, who looked sheepish at the stares being leveled their way.

“Hi hyungs, hi y/n,” San greeted the trio, “Hongjoong-hyung, looks like you’re getting comfy with y/nnie.”

Hongjoong didn’t grace San’s teasing with a reply, instead opting to reach out for Seonghwa, pulling the omega down next to himself and y/n.

“We’re here to fetch y/n. They’ve redone the contract with the new terms, and they want her to sign it.” Yeosang informed the duo.

Y/n nodded and tried to remove herself from Hongjoong, but was unable to. “Hongjoong love, you have to let go.” Seonghwa tried to coax the alpha into releasing the youngest omega.

“Don’t want to.” He grumbled, pouting.

“If you let go of y/n, and let her sign the documents, we can go grab her stuff from the trainee dorms later.” Seonghwa said, trying to entice the pack alpha into letting go. Honestly, Hongjoong’s behavior was not the norm for the alpha, he wasn’t very clingy to people he didn’t know well, and y/n counted as one of those people currently.

Thankfully, Seonghwa’s reminder worked and Hongjoong pulled his arms away from where they were wrapped around y/n’s waist. This allowed y/n to get off of the captain’s lap, unable to look at him while she felt her face heat up. She walked over to Yeosang and San, who promised the two eldest that they’d bring her back afterwards.

While y/n went off to go sign the contract, Seonghwa turned to Hongjoong, an eyebrow raised at his leader and pack alpha.

“What was that behavior about, hmm?” Seonghwa asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hongjoong tried to deflect, but it wouldn’t work with his mate and he knew it.

“Yes you do, but if you want to deny your actions, then go right ahead.” Was all the omega said in reply, falling silent afterwards.

The two sat in silence until y/n and the other six members returned from her contract signing. The door opened slowly and Yunho was the first to step inside, followed by y/n and then San and the others were right behind her.

“Did it go well?” Seonghwa asked, to which y/n hummed and nodded.

“Her contract was altered the way that we wanted, and we all double checked before we let her sign it, but now y/n’s an official member of Ateez!” Yunho said, washing away any worries that the staff had sneakily changed the contract, and to which everyone celebrated her officially joining them.

However, the cheering was cut short by an interruption by one of the members.

“Can we go home now?” Wooyoung whined from behind the group in the doorway.

“Well that depends on what y/n wants to do,” San said, looking to the omega in front of him for her answer.

“I can go back to the dorms I’m staying in if you all want to return to yours,” Y/n offered.

“We were maybe planning to offer for you to grab your things from the dorm you were staying in, and bring them to our dorm, since you’ll be moving in soon anyways.” Seonghwa said.

Y/n looked around, seeing that there wasn’t anyone opposed to that idea, and she nodded, saying, “Okay, we can do that.”

This started another round of cheers and San wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back to him. 

“You’ll get to experience the craziness that is Ateez now. I hope you’re prepared for it. I’ll have your back if anyone gets too much, okay?” He told her, as they watched the others cheer and plan out the rest of their day.

“Who’s ever prepared for the craziness and chaos that is Ateez?” Y/n said in response, making San chuckle, feeling his chest rumble and making her slightly flustered at how  close she was to him, and to have this privilege of becoming one of them.

“Look at you two getting cozy here,” They heard from behind them, y/n pulling away slightly.

“Are you jealous, Mingi-yah?” San teased back.

“No, but hyung might get jealous.” Mingi said, nodding over to where Hongjoong was staring right at them.

Y/n looked over and saw the very intense stare from Ateez’s pack alpha, quickly looking away again. The stare was too much for her right now, she couldn’t keep eye contact with him. 

Mingi and San chuckled at her reaction, and y/n pouted in response, “Don’t laugh at me.” She slightly whined, annoyed.

“You’re adorable though sweetheart,” Mingi drawled, “You’re gonna have to learn to keep eye contact with hyung when he stares like that, y’know.”

“Well maybe one day I will, not today.” She mumbled, looking down at her shoes and the ground.

Suddenly everyone started moving, and San pulled her along, y/n stumbling as she wasn’t ready for the sudden movement. San stopped her from falling over, apologizing and instead moving to grab her hand instead. He guided her through the halls as they followed the other seven out of the company building and down to the same two vans that they had arrived here in. This time it seemed to be split between the maknae and hyung lines, and with San holding her hand, she joined the younger four in their van.

“The hyungs will meet us at our dorm, and the four of us will go with you to collect your things.” Jongho said to her as the van took off in the direction of the auditionee dorms.

“Okay. I’ll make sure to be quick so that you all don’t have to wait too long.” She said in reply.

“Mingi and I were going to come up with you, so you don’t have to carry everything yourself.” San said to her, smiling.

“You don’t have to do that,” She protested, “I can do it myself.”

“Let them help,” Jongho said, “They’ll whine about it if you don’t.”

Sighing, she nodded in agreement to letting them help. The two smiled brightly at her, and it was only a few minutes later that they arrived at the apartment building that housed the dorm she had stayed in.

After the trio exited the van, San motioned for her to lead them to the dorm. She took them up to the sixth floor, and down to the end of the hall. Typing in the keycode, the door unlocked and let them in, where they found the others packing up.

“Oh, you’re here.” One of them said, “And you’re special enough to have Ateez members with you too.”

“I’m here to collect my things. It was nice to stay with you for these few days, and I hope you have a safe trip back home.” Y/n said to them, not wanting to get into it with any of the auditionees who were now heading back to their homes.

She led the two men to her room, unlocking it with her key and letting them into the room. Because she hadn’t really had much time to do anything here, or go out and explore, most of her clothes and other necessities were still in her suitcase. 

She directed the two to put away the clothing that was strewn about the room as she reluctantly dismantled her nest, or an attempt at one anyways. Once she finished that, she moved to leave the room so she could collect what was left of her stuff in the bathroom. She found and grabbed everything, packing it in her toiletries bag and bringing it back to her room, where she found her suitcases packed, and her backpack waiting for whatever else she had to put in it.

“We packed everything else we could into your backpack, if that’s okay?” Mingi said, a bit unsure.

“That’s okay, I think you actually packed everything where I usually put them, so it’s less work for me,” She told him.

“Then let’s go, the others at our dorm are getting a bit antsy.” San said, grabbing one suitcase and pulling it along while Mingi grabbed the remaining ones, as y/n took her backpack.

The three navigated their way out of the apartment and down to the van, the two men packing her bags into the back of the van while she hopped in with her backpack. Once they were all back in the van, they headed to their final destination, Ateez’s dorm. Thankfully, they weren’t actually far from it, which is slightly concerning, but their building did have good security, so she shouldn't have to worry.

Arriving at their building, they found that Hongjoong was waiting outside. He greeted them as they climbed out of the car, and followed San and Mingi and the three grabbed her suitcases while y/n slung her backpack onto her back. Seeing as Wooyoung and Jongho had very little to nothing to carry, they lead the way into the building, stopping to get another keycard for y/n, before heading up to their dorms, y/n paying attention to the details this time.

Jongho unlocked their door, leading everyone inside, and while y/n was taking off her shoes, Hongjoong led San and Mingi away further into the dorm so that y/n’s bags could be left in her room for now. 

Seonghwa showed up in the hallway, greeting the three at the entrance of their home, “Hello you three, and welcome to your new home, y/n.”

“Thank you Seonghwa-oppa,” Y/n said, bowing to the older omega in thanks. 

Seonghwa waved off her thanks, insisting that it was nothing, and that they were happy to have her here with them. The two omegas and one beta lead her to the living room for now, promising that they’ll give her a proper tour later.

The trio found the other two ‘99 liners that hadn’t been in her van in the living room, Yeosang had taken to laying on the floor, while Yunho had situated himself in the only chair in the room.

“Welcome to your new home!” Yunho said, smiling at her and waving her over to sit on the nearby loveseat. 

“Thank you, Yunho-oppa,” she said, moving to take the seat he was pointing at, and Wooyoung moved to sit next to her, taking the remaining spot.

“Yah, stop hogging her, let someone else sit next to her if they want to.” Seonghwa scolded Wooyoung, making the other omega get up.

The moment the spot was free, both Jongho and Yeosang moved to sit next to her before freezing when they noticed the other. Jongho won that silent debate, and Yeosang took the spot in between y/n’s legs, after asking her for permission.

Wooyoung pouted at this, before Seonghwa pulled the omega down onto the couch with him, the younger omega sitting on Seonghwa’s lap and his head being pushed into the older omega’s neck. Wooyoung’s body relaxed so quickly once his nose was buried in Seonghwa’s scent gland, it was almost like watching a puppet with its strings cut.

Y/n quietly giggled at the sight, it was cute but amusing to see how quickly Wooyoung went quiet. The trio that had been putting away her bags in her new room emerged from one of the hallways, their leader smiling at the sight they came back to.

“It looks like everyone’s settling in well.” Hongjoong commented as the two behind him moved to find their own spots, Mingi gravitating towards Yunho while San moved to sit in the spot next to where Seonghwa and Wooyoung were, as Hongjoong took the final open spot, on the other side of the two omegas.

The nine of them stayed quiet for a while, just taking in the silence after a long day, and while they had promised y/n a proper tour, it wasn’t to be as one by one, they fell asleep. Y/n watched as Seonghwa and Wooyoung fell asleep, wrapped up in each other, and it wasn’t long before San joined them, his head resting on Seonghwa’s other shoulder. 

Mingi and Yunho almost fell asleep, however Mingi stood up, stumbling as he was fairly sleepy, and pulled Yunho out of his chair and down one of the hallways, to one of their bedrooms. 

Yeosang was next, and y/n felt his head lean more on her thigh as he lost the battle to sleep. Jongho chuckled next to her, the sound so quiet she almost didn’t hear it.

“He tends to do this, it’s always adorable.” He explained, whispering to her. 

Hongjoong, still awake, moved over to the two still awake, sitting down in between Jongho’s legs.

“This doesn’t usually happen, well not like this. This is usually how it happens in the pack nest, but it seems everyone is really tired today.” Hongjoong said to y/n, explaining further about days like this.

The combination of all of the scents in the room, all happy and content, made y/n feel sleepy. She had already had a very active day that was full of surprises, so this quiet downtime made her become very sleepy very quickly. She felt her head lolling to the side, and despite her attempts to stay awake, the comforting smell of a fireplace, as that was all she could think of it as, burning wood in a fireplace, a hand moved to pull her head onto their shoulder.

“It’s okay to sleep, y/n,” Hongjoong whispered, looking up at her from his place on the floor, some emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t place at the moment.

She felt her eyes get heavy, and the calming scents from those around her, lulled her into sleep. Hongjoong and Jongho watched as her breathing became slower and evened out, before the captain looked around at the others, smiling at how content everyone seemed right now. He looked back at Jongho to find the maknae looking down at him.

“You should sleep too, hyung,” Jongho whispered, just loud enough for the older alpha to hear.

“I’m not that tired,” Hongjoong started, before his body betrayed him, a yawn coming out of his mouth.

“You can come here and sleep, if you want?” Jongho offered, his voice unsure.

Hongjoong took him up on his offer, climbing into the younger man’s lap and resting his head on Jongho’s unoccupied shoulder, and like y/n, started relaxing as Jongho’s scent comforted him and made him grow sleepier.

“It’s okay hyung, I can take on your burdens for a little while, you can rest.” Jongho whispered into Hongjoong’s ear, and it was those words that convinced Hongjoong it was okay to rest for a while.

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[gabrielleragusi]

For Artists: My Experience with Commission Platforms and Illustration Agencies

Hi there! I’ve been wanting to compile a list of commission platforms that I’ve personally used for the longest time, and I finally did it! I’ve highlighted the still-active commission platforms in bold and struck those that don't exist anymore so you can jump to the sections that interest you without needing to read my entire story.

Let me start by briefly introducing myself.

I’m Gabrielle, a fantasy illustrator. Since 2014, I’ve been working on book covers and illustrations for publishers, authors, and book subscription boxes. Early on, work wasn’t as frequent as it is now. I had to search for opportunities myself, and even small private commissions were important for building my portfolio and earning some money, which I’d spend on materials, books, and online courses. Like many other artists, I started out by trying my luck with the biggest art community available at the time.

DeviantArt

2009-2018

Once upon a time, there was a virtual haven called DeviantArt. To my teenage self, it was a magical place. I signed up in 2009 and thought I’d never leave!

At first, I created an account just to share my work and learn. I didn’t even think about commissions for four or five years. But when that first inquiry finally landed in my inbox, things took off! My mum swears she remembers my excitement when I got my first commission, but for some reason, I’ve completely forgotten about it. I can't remember what it was or how much it paid. It might have been a portrait of a fantasy character.

Commissions on DeviantArt were fairly frequent, especially considering my cheap prices at the time. I used to offer discounts and post my rates in my DeviantArt journal, or in Commission groups that featured artists either monthly or weekly. After checking out my profile, a client could simply send me a private message and from there, we’d discuss payment, deadlines, and other details, and the platform didn’t take any fees, much like how ArtStation works today. Everything happened through private messages or email, with direct contact between artist and client.

The downside of this process was that there was no dispute resolution system on the platform. I had to handle all issues myself, and unfortunately, problems did arise sometimes: there were clients changing their minds about commissions, asking for refunds after work was delivered, refusing to pay, or just ghosting me. These issues didn’t happen because clients were evil, but rather because I was inexperienced and allowed some to take advantage of my naivety.

However, all that frustration helped me develop my commission process through trial and error (mostly error). And despite the challenges, I can say with satisfaction that most of the commissions I received through my DeviantArt profile were positive experiences.

DeviantArt eventually introduced a commission feature for Core (Premium) users, which came with a platform fee, but I didn’t use it much, and I’m not sure if it still exists.

The real beauty of dA, though, was the connections I made. I was able to meet people, both artists and clients, that I’m still in contact with today, and some of whom I still collaborate with.

I closed my account in 2018 or 2019, but by that time, I hadn’t really used it for a couple of years. The new user interface was a bit of a turn-off for me. I had always loved the geeky, and dare I say cozy, look of the old green and grey aesthetic, with its customisable panels that you could move around and personalise with HTML code... But I digress.

Artists and Clients

2013-2016

While taking small commissions on DeviantArt, I discovered Artists & Clients. It was a nice platform for clients to get things like their D&D characters or groups illustrated for relatively cheap. I think my highest price was $50 for a single character portrait, with the platform taking a 15% cut. I used it for about two or three years before the platform started to change.

As more artists with hentai art styles flooded in, the homepage shifted, and so did the clientele. There’s nothing wrong with drawing naked anime girls, of course, but you can understand that if a client is looking for a fantasy, semi-realistic painting of their female orc character, or a realistic portrait of their spouse, it's more than likely that they won't bother sifting through a sea of anime girls to find the style they want, imagining it isn't here. Let's just say that, at the time, the website took a definite direction that wasn't in line with my genre, but this direction didn't make the different, more realistic art styles stand out either.

Soon, commissions slowed down for me, so I closed my account, but by then I was already working elsewhere.

That said, this platform could still be a useful tool if you’re looking to take on smaller commissions.

DreamUp

2014-2015

DreamUp wasn’t an AI generator back then. It was actually a subsidiary of DeviantArt, where clients could post projects and artists could apply. It was a competitive platform that offered well-paid work–very well-paid. I remember seeing jobs posted that ranged from $300 to $1,200. DreamUp was a very professional platform for clients with a mid to high budget.

I believe I landed my very first book cover commission through this website when I was in my last year of high school. I remember getting the job and going to school the next morning, excited to share the news with my classmates. Everyone was super thrilled for me (we were a really close-knit class!), and I felt like I was walking on air.

Unfortunately, as far as I know, that book was never released, but it didn’t matter because I was moving forward, and fast.

I’m not sure when DreamUp was shut down, but I do know that DeviantArt held onto the copyrighted name, assigning it to something so anti-old DreamUp that it still boggles my mind.

ArtCorgi

Now Artistree

2014-2019

When I received an invitation to join ArtCorgi from its founder, I already had a somewhat consistent portfolio. I was painting portraits and fantasy illustrations, and the clients on this platform were looking for both–your typical wedding and pet portraits, as well as book covers, which were what really interested me. To get to the latter, I had to do the former. Over the years, I’ve painted so many realistic portraits that now I have a strict rule for my own sanity not to do them any more. I have great respect for portrait artists, but it’s just not me.

When I first submitted my prices to the person I was in contact with, she kindly suggested that I raise them... a lot. That was a major step forward in my professional career. I went from charging $50 to $100/$200 overnight. And to my surprise, people actually wanted to commission me at those prices!

From 2014 to 2019, I took nearly every commission that came my way. I never spoke directly with the clients; all instructions and feedback went through my point of contact, which helped maintain a level of professionalism, although now that I’m used to working directly with clients, I’m not sure I’d want to go back to having an intermediary.

Sadly, as with all good things, this chapter came to an end. My point of contact eventually left communication in the hands of someone else, and shortly after, the commission fee changed to, I believe, 30%.

Simply put, 30% is an unrealistic cut for a website like this. For an agent that gets you all kinds of big work in the publishing industry, sure, but since this was not the case I had to stop taking commissions. Despite that, my overall experience with ArtCorgi was very positive.

Today, ArtCorgi joined another platform, Artistree. As far as I can tell, Artistree doesn’t take any fees from artists, with clients covering a small cost instead.

Sketchmob (?)

2016-2020

This was probably the platform I used the most. I’ve lost count of how many commissions I received through Sketchmob. Many. Enough to generate a steady income at the time. With reasonable fees and a variety of art styles available, clients contacted me almost daily. Communication was direct between artists and clients, and payments could be split. The review system also worked very well… for a while.

Once I raised my prices, requests became fewer and farther apart. But by then, I was already working with my own clients.

Is this platform still active? Who knows. The website is still up and the chat feature works, but I’ve seen users complain that money available for withdrawal never arrived via PayPal (the only payment method the platform accepted, if I remember correctly). Personally, I wouldn’t risk completing a job through Sketchmob right now, at least not until they release an update.

If you’ve used the platform recently and successfully received payment within the last six months, please let me know, and I’d be happy to update this section!

Upwork

2017-2019

In 2017, I was determined to break into the book publishing industry. After trying out Fiverr and Freelancer.com with no success (the competition was too fierce for someone just starting out), I decided to give Upwork a shot. The platform looked very professional, and while the process sounded a bit complicated, I wanted to land the interesting projects I saw featured in my category. I really wanted to work with a big client… but big clients didn’t seem to want me, despite having the Rising Talent badge.

In two years of bidding for jobs and submitting proposals, I only landed two projects: a small commission from a private client who actually reached out to me, and another project that I bid on.

Don’t get me wrong, I was ecstatic at the time and truly appreciated every opportunity that came my way. But looking back, I can see why Upwork didn’t work out for me. The platform just wasn’t the right fit for my style and niche, which is fantasy illustration. Graphic design, however, was (and still is) in much higher demand.

The commission process on Upwork wasn’t as simple as on other platforms. For instance, at the time, costs were calculated hourly, which was a challenge for someone like me who prefers working with flat fees (having already calculated my average hours spent on an illustration). From what I’ve seen, this has since changed.

One positive aspect of Upwork is its current 10% cut on what artists earn. I don’t recall if this has changed over the years, but 10% is quite reasonable in my experience. Of course, 0% would be even better, but for a platform as large as Upwork, 10% is fair.

Illustration Agency

2019-2021

By 2019, I had built a solid, consistent portfolio thanks to my personal work and commissions. I had a simple website in place, my Instagram following was growing… I was steadily working toward my goal of illustrating covers for big publishers (which didn't happen until two years ago).

So, when an illustration agency reached out to me one day, I was over the moon. I had always heard that artists were the ones who had to approach agencies, not the other way around.

Well, that should have been my first red flag.

I won’t name this agency because, unfortunately, I have nothing positive to say about it. In fact, the word “nothing” perfectly describes my involvement with them. Nothing came of this barely there experience.

The agency invited me to sign up, not on an exclusive basis, but they assured me they’d get me work. That work never came. Once in a while, I’d receive messages saying they were trying to pitch my portfolio to a French publisher or another client, but... nothing.

Please understand that meanwhile I was already working directly with shops and authors, so I don’t believe my portfolio was the problem. The real issue was something I didn’t realise at the time: some agencies do this. They feature talented artists in their catalogue without having actual clients lined up, just to appear more professional and credible to potential clients. Did this strategy work for them? Maybe. I’ll never know.

In 2021, I politely asked them to remove my portfolio from their website, and that was the end of it.

After that, I never actively sought out an agent again. By the time my portfolio was strong enough to approach a serious agency, I just didn’t need representation anymore.

Hireillo

2019-2022

My experience with Hire an Illustrator, or Hireillo, is mixed. At the time, Hireillo was a platform that hosted artists' portfolios, featured artist-submitted news, provided useful articles, resources, and directories of artists and agents. I joined the site hoping to catch the eye of publishers, but I was mostly contacted by authors and one fellow artist for a graphic novel.

Unfortunately, most inquiries didn’t go beyond the first couple of messages due to budget constraints. I did, however, have fun sharing news about my painting process and projects I landed on my own, which were often featured by the website. Additionally, if I had questions about 'complicated' things like copyright, or just needed advice, I could ask the website’s owner and that was incredibly helpful.

Despite these benefits, I didn’t see any real results, which was a little disappointing. The subscription fee was also... odd, for lack of a better word. $5 per week. In the end I just couldn’t justify the cost, so I stopped using the website altogether.

Reedsy

2019-2022

Finally, we come to the turning point.

I remember stumbling upon Reedsy randomly. It wasn’t very well known at the time, and I think it still isn’t. I was nervous when I submitted my portfolio because their catalogue features the best of the best: designers who’ve created covers for bestsellers, THE bestsellers, people who’ve worked on Stephen King covers, or George R.R. Martin's. Designers, editors, and marketers who are veterans. I didn’t have high hopes for my application. So, I was in shock when it got accepted.

I had an introductory Skype call with a representative from Reedsy, who explained how everything worked. Before the call ended, I remember asking if there was a good chance I’d get work through the platform. The rep laughed and said, “Yes.”

A few weeks in, I understood that laugh.

Reedsy has an overwhelming demand for book covers and commercial projects. For every designer there are many more clients. In peak seasons, I was getting requests almost every day. I’m not exaggerating.

Reedsy transformed my portfolio and my pricing structure. Thanks to the income I earned through the platform, I was finally able not to take everything that came my way but be selective and choose only the projects that really interested me.

The commission process is simple: artists pretty much decide how to split payments, what to include in agreements, and the best part, the most beautiful and helpful feature of all, they can request and adjust deadlines. For someone like me who's terrible with deadlines, this feature was a lifesaver. The admins are also very kind and responsive, available via email or chat.

Unfortunately (this is my last 'unfortunately', I promise), my time on Reedsy came to an end for personal reasons. I’ll explain since it’s no secret.

All my images on Reedsy were watermarked with my signature (my full name), which apparently violated the platform’s rules. Why? Because if a client saw my last name, they could contact me directly and bypass Reedsy, which meant the platform lost potential fees. I’ll admit this did happen a few times, but I had the good sense to redirect the client back to Reedsy.

After three years, an admin finally noticed and asked me to remove my full name from the watermark and any text on my profile. It was a simple and reasonable request, but here’s where the problem started. Profiles on Reedsy are public, and images appear in search engines like Google Images, meaning anyone could download my work and use it without permission. Sure, watermarks can be removed, but uploading my work without one in the first place felt like a bad idea. Btw, not only do I use watermarks, but I also use Glaze to protect my illustrations before sharing them online.

Anyway, for this reason, and also because I couldn’t get over the fact that full names were public at the time, something I won’t get into because, believe me, I tried over email, and my reasons went into the void (now, last names are just initialised, like Gabrielle R. Okay. Sure.), I had to close my account–they would have done it anyway because it was already 'flagged'.

Overall, if you’re willing to overlook the last name conundrum, I can’t recommend Reedsy enough. If you have a killer, solid portfolio and a love for books and editorial projects, go for it!

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

I hope you'll find this useful! If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask (: Oh, and here's an old article I wrote in 2020, titled:

Tips to freelance illustrators to avoid being screwed over

Who knows, maybe I'll write another 'article' post in four years!

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[love-of-the-red-star]

Interlude I: Kakavasha

Warnings: Discrimination and heavily implied racism

You were an enigma, even to the other Avgin.

“She appeared out of nowhere.”

“Should we trust her?”

“She looks like one of our own.. and she seems harmless enough, I think we should trust her.”

“Are you sure about this? If she’s with the Katicans we could be in danger.”

The voices whisper and hiss, only slightly muffled by the barrier of a tent with little Kakavasha hiding behind some of the crates.

It made sense for the people, including his sister, to suspect you, even just for a little bit. But to him it didn’t make sense, you had the same hair, you had the same eyes, and you wore pretty clothing unlike them or the Katicans.

Kakavasha was one of the children who were a bit more subtle in their adoration of the patterns of your clothes, his eyes innocently tracing each one of them to see where they begin and where they end.

He learned that your name was Delia from the whispers of his mother and sister on the light of the campfire and the skies of their planet. He’d peek sometimes when his sister brought food to your tent— a simple stew, the same one he knew he would also eat for supper.

He observed, and noticed you didn’t do much of anything at all or even move. Something about you felt a little wrong, felt… weird. At first glance, nothing was wrong, you looked just like him, same eyes, same hair. What was actually wrong with you? He didn’t know, and he felt guilty for thinking of you that way the moment you had given him a sweet smile.

Surely, you would not be a traitor. You are Avgin like him, bears the same eyes, and the gentle smile his mother and sister had.

Kakavasha decided he wanted to speak to you, and he never regretted that decision.

It had felt so wonderful to be graced with stories (he never really questioned how you knew them) of people from afar, of people who persevered in their strife. The more stories you had told him, the more of hope and desire of true freedom grew inside his heart.

Kakavasha was just a child, but much like the older Avgin, he too wanted to be free, to no longer be gazed upon in mockery or jealousy, to no longer have the threat of his life taken simply for what he was born as.

When you both play, he always wins. His luck dictates for him to win.

It didn’t matter whether it was cards or hide and seek— the only game you’ve beaten him at was something called chess. He vowed to be smarter than you when he grew up after that, as you had said the game did not rely on luck.

It hadn’t occurred to him then that in the short two months you were with him, you were indirectly teaching him to play others as his pieces; to plan, to think outside of the box and to not rely on the thrill of a gamble. He remembered you mainly because you gave him good memories in your short stay and the lessons you imparted to him in the form of your stories.

His luck always aided him. It did when you came, it did when the Katicans invaded and the Galaxy rangers came, and it did when he wanted to get the attention of the IPC.

Mr. Boothill never really ended up liking his decision to join their ranks, and they had fought over it, but the cowboy conceded once he heard the Avgin boy’s reasoning.

He needed power and an extensive connection to help his people and to find you. The job of a Galaxy ranger would not grant him that influence, and another reason was simply because it was a somewhat.. safe outlet for his vices.

The voices of the Katicans still haunt him even though years had already passed.

Lucky boy, they’d sneer, jealous and mistrusting.

He was fine if people did not trust him; it already came with being an Avgin, being an employee of the IPC would not really change a thing. Besides, he wasn’t noble (at least he thinks he is not noble— that he is dirty, as free as he might be now), and he doesn’t think he can follow through with the strict code and creed Boothill swore himself to.

Kakavasha knew you and his sister would disapprove of the thoughts he directs to himself, but neither you or her are not here to hear anything. You’re not here to see.

“Still no leads?” He asked over on the other end of the line, his voice now taking a much deeper tone as it had been eight years since you left.

He’s an adult and a stoneheart; things he didn’t know he would become back then when he was just at the cusp of puberty and at war. He had his fair share of struggles too after that— the discrimination against his people never really stopped even after the killings did.

Some of them were still sold, were still seen as objects to be owned, an exotic prize.

He can’t gain power if he remained fully noble and good, and he can’t find you if he had no power and wealth. In order to help his people and himself, he resorts to joining the IPC.

“No, we couldn’t find any trace of the person you want to know about.” The person on the end of the line replied to him as his eyes traced over the stamps he’s put on a board in search for you.

It was as if you never truly existed in the first place.

He gave a hum of acknowledgment for the other person in the call and hung up, he doesn’t take this as a sign to stop though.

“Kid, you sure the girl you’re looking for is really out there?” Mr. Boothill asked him, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand as he too looked at the papers and red strings interconnecting them together. “Asked around a couple of friends and they haven’t seen someone like this leave on a ship—“

The cyborg’s pause made Kakavasha blink.

“You remember something?” He asked.

“Kid,” he didn’t like being called a kid now, but he lets Mr. Boothill call him that out of respect. “Mind telling me what the hell your girl was doing before the festival again? You mentioned she would go missing, right?”

“Yes, if I’m remembering it correctly, she would disappear every night when she thought I was sleeping. She’d…” Kakavasha’s brows furrowed. “Get out of the tent, then walk back in exactly six system hours after. I knew the time because I often counted how many times the hour glass would run out, and I would make a bet on how many hours it’d take before she comes back.. of course, I was always right.

“What does that have to do with this?” He asked.

“You ever thought how the hell we managed to find your planet?” Boothill scowled. “Just a feelin’… but I think your girl.. isn’t exactly a girl.” Kakavasha knew enough to believe the man, having known he had traveled many places and lived many years.

“I’m not quite sure if I follow…” Kakavasha trailed off.

“I can’t blame you, even to this day I’m not sure what the fudge terrorized our ship either.” Boothill sighed gravely with a shake of his head. “It’s just a theory, but your girl— Delia, right?”

He nodded.

“I think it might be the same thing that summoned us to your planet.” His scowl deepened. “Listen, we got points. You said she came out of nowhere, none of the Katicans knew this girl, none of your family knew this girl, she felt weird, knew stories and stuff she wasn’t supposed to know, and left for six hours every night for weeks til your birthday came in? That girl was no human.”

Your image in Kakavasha’s head warped. “A masked fool?” He asked, hesitantly.

“No no, I don’t think those shirt bags would bother to be so benevolent. And I don’t think they’d be powerful enough to scare some of my friends that they decided to go to a doctor.” Boothill inhaled and exhaled. “It’s probably something worse, I dunno.”

How could you be bad? If he’s understanding what Boothill is getting at, then you were the one who set the Avgin free from the Katicans, the one who ushered in help when the IPC did not offer his people aid.

If you were not an Avgin like him, what were you? It’s established as of now that you weren’t exactly a person— hell, Delia probably isn’t even your real name.

Then, he remembered freedom.

It was a thought that came in like a stroke of luck as he gazed upon the patterns— the one he managed to identify as freedom quilts displayed hanging on Boothill’s wall.

The cyborg followed his line of sight and snorted. “Oh, that. Given to me by a friend as a souvenir two weeks ago from a city that devoted themselves towards this new Aeon.. Libertas, I think their name was. Don’t some of your people follow that Aeon now too?”

“Yeah, they do.” He remembered some of the adults muttering prayers to this Aeon— to give them strength, to thank them for being the representation of what they wanted. They prayed in the same way they would pray to the mother goddess, there is no tribute, there is no statue, in a way some of them also thought of Libertas as Fenge Biyos herself, although Kakavasha thinks that Xipe may be a closer comparison if one were to look closely.

Libertas had been recently introduced some six years back through a dream a few of his people had, and suddenly he felt dumb.

Kakavasha laughed, exasperated at himself as Boothill looked at him strangely.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” Boothill’s nose wrinkled as Kakavasha calmed his laughter.

“Thanks for giving me a good knock to the head Mr. Boothill.” He began, smile stretching wide. “The answer to the mystery was under my nose the entire time! Goodness, I feel pranked.” He grinned, Boothill’s concern grew.

“The hell?” He muttered out.

“That cloth.” The Avgin pointed. “It’s the answer this entire time because it’s the same pattern Delia wore.” The more he gave it thought, the more it began to make sense.

Of course you’d wear the pattern of freedom on you.

Kakavasha smiled, gently and happily this time as he looked at Boothill with a sense of accomplishment. “Mr. Boothill, I guess we found the girl.”

————————————

JSHDHSHSHS Posting this utter word vomit rn, and yes this takes place in the same universe as Aeon reader, though this is sort of a POV exclusively by Aventurine— there will be interludes for other characters too in the future, but for now please enjoy.

I would also like to add that this remains to be a gender neutral reader insert, the reader taking on the form of an Avgin woman was purposeful.

(This is heavily unedited and written at three am by a very sleep deprived mf)

[lilacgaby]

title: mini me

pairings: boyfriend!katsuki x girlfriend!reader

katsuki thinks it's cute how you adopt his habits, calling you his mini-me.

note: this has been sitting in my drafts for foreverrr, no proofread im sleepy

everyone called katsuki a bad influence on you, he cursed, was rude, and dressed baggy.

they were right, at least about his influence, because you two now mirrored eachother to a scary point. that's what dating since high school would do to a person i guess.

your once carefully crafted reputation, not wanting to offend others and caring deeply about others opinions of you was gone, replaced with a brute force reminiscent of your boyfriend.

interviewers we're now more careful with you, you'd tell them to fuck off if they pissed you off, and you'd leave if you got annoyed. before, youd stand awkwardly and avoid the questions, now they're luck if they manage to get halfway through it.

you strive to be the best now, you expect nothing but the best from yourself. you find competition easily, choosing a rival and beating them at any costs. you don't like being told what to do anymore, it seems patronizing when compared to your boyfriend who'd bend the world to his will before he'd make you lift up a finger.

you wore skull themed t-shirts now just because they reminded you of him. jirou once asked you what your favorite song was from the group, but you honestly didn't even know it was one.

you and him thought similarly now. with less than a look you two knew what the other was thinking, even laughing at the same mental image without uttering even a breath.

katsuki had started calling you his mini-me once you cursed out a man on the street, telling him to 'die'. he felt like a proud mother as he watched you stand up for yourself, though he was always at the ready to stand in.

he called you it proudly when you got headlined for making a villain cry while fighting him, what you said? he doesn't even wanna hear it.

though, he did call you it once (deragatory) because you'd started to make the cutting hand side under your neck when you got in an argument with him.

he didn't like the taste of his own medicine, but he did like the taste of you so he kissed that expression off your face. easy win.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: married life with eiland

COMMENTS: i've been thinking so hard about marrying this man i have two lawn chairs next to my mail box and a desk for him and a chest full of sweets for when we get married im planning ahead ahead i need him so bad

reader is compared to lady luck but they're not fem aligned.

It’s not uncommon for you to wake up in the morning to see Eiland curled up in bed, his reading glasses askew and a book opened over his face. You always remove the book gently, marking his page with a bookmark you keep handy on your nightstand and he thanks you profusely for it later. It’s not even that he stays up outrageously late, you just so happen to have a husband who is so dedicated to his research he can hardly put it down!

Although he would love nothing more than to have chocolate chip waffles with whipped cream and a hearty amount of syrup for breakfast, he is unfortunately bound by the knowledge that food like that has little nutrients and will not keep his precious spouse up and running throughout the day. Soft hands cut up fruits into hearts and stars, depositing them into one of your bowls with a proud smile as seasonal fruit pancakes sizzle on your stove. He takes pride in taking care of your needs. That is, after all, what a husband does! (Ignore the copious amount of times he messed up a dish...he's trying his best.)

Whenever he comes home after a meeting with his sister, he makes sure to ask your opinion on things. If it's something the two of you don’t agree on (much to his chagrin...yes, he pouts about it later) he will still report your honest opinion to Adeline. His sister can tell immediately if you agreed or disagreed with him based on his facial expression alone.

Eiland has a tendency to say things that can be taken in a flirtatious way, but are usually innocent. He still has not learned to watch his words with you even after years of marriage, calling you over to Louis’s stall to look at the beautiful wedding outfits and yapping about how lovely you would look in them. Oh Eiland, he has no idea what he’s implying!

Due to his hobbies, he is more of a help on the farm than some may think! You’re certainly going to have to walk him through ranching if he decides he wants to feed the animals, but he’ll pick up on how to plant seeds a lot faster. He’s quick work with a shovel and can figure out a hoe in no time flat! (He thinks you’re so cool and just wants to help out his lovely spouse, please let him.)

Without a doubt, you will get wrapped up in his Dungeons and Drama campaigns. He’ll be delighted if you make food based on the campaign and will brag for weeks about it. Be prepared to be referred to as the lovebirds when you come to the Inn on Friday’s! That’s simply how Mistria works I’m afraid.

Elsie is going to have the time of her life when the two of you get married. She’ll be on cloud nine, orbiting the two of you with well wishes and the most random gifts she insists you two need for your new life. It’s very sweet of her, even if you’re not entirely sure what you’d use a fondue pot for other than satisfying your husband’s raging appetite.

Daily trips to the Western Ruins and The Narrows are a must. Eiland likes to check in on the Museum, having been contributing to its upkeep for a long time now. If you find him starting a special set of armor tucked away in the back of the main area, don’t mind him. He’s just reminiscing on old times with you.

Eiland takes very good care of his skin and hair, and if you let him he’ll pamper you every morning and night. He tends to lose his sense of personal space when he does this though...his face will be very close to you. If you lean in to steal a kiss, he’ll jump and laugh, cheeks growing warm as you smile at him.

When he spaces out, he’ll reach out for your hand and start fiddling with your wedding ring. You’d think he’d fiddle with his own, but he likes feeling your knuckles under the pads of his fingers. Eiland will slowly come back down to Mistria at some point, his eyes focusing on his fingers against your skin and your soft smile shining upon him like Lady Luck herself. Truly, he got so lucky.

[hannahssimblr]

“Jude! God, c’mere.” Michelle thrusts me into the centre of the group, where someone has propped a card against a vase on the counter. I ensure to arrange my features carefully into some sort of surprised expression. 

“Oh, what? This for me?”

“Yes,” they cry. It’s a handmade card that says ‘you’re dead to us’ on the front. “Aw, Jesus, thanks!” I say, and they laugh and watch me while I open it and start reading some messages scrawled on the inside. There are so many of them, many even squeezed into the tiniest corners, or sideways along the edge.

‘Good luck on your big adventure!’ some say. Others share a memory, wish me luck, express jealousy at my escape. I close it. 

“I’ll read this late when you’re not all gawking at me,” I tell them, which gets a good laugh despite the lack of comedy, and as I look around at their faces, their sad, sentimental smiles and I wish the night was over already, and I was already gone. I feel exposed, like a man under a spotlight without something to say. Would they like me to entertain them? To read their messages and get emotional in the middle of my kitchen?

I catch Jen’s eye. She’s behind the others, by the patio door, dressed in a very funereal black, and an expression to match. While chatter resumes around me, I jerk my head towards the garden, and without words, she understands. She slips through the door and out into the night. 

Jen and I wordlessly follow the path that winds down from the house to the pergola at the back of the garden. We sit on a bamboo settee shielded by trees from the road, where the occasional car passes. The breeze lifts pieces of her hair that frame her face. 

She is staring towards the kitchen, its yellow light pouring out into the garden when she breaks the silence. 

“What a weird party.” 

I exhale a laugh through my nose. “Honestly, I didn’t know if you’d even come.”

She purses her lips. “I’m not totally sure why I did.”

“Maybe you had something you wanted to say.”

“Maybe. Though I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear it.” She looks at me then, her brown eyes dark in the failing light as they study mine. “It surprised me to see Evie here.”

“Me too. I didn’t think she’d come.”

“On her own, too.”

I shrug. “Shane and Claire were busy. They were going to their debs.”

“Ah, the debs.” She picks lint from her black mesh top and laughs humourlessly. “Bet you’re sorry you’ll miss ours. I know how excited you were to suit up for it.”

Even the concept of wearing a suit makes me uncomfortable, as though an invisible tie is pulled too tightly at my throat. “You’re going, I presume.”

“Yeah, with Michelle. The two of us are kind of like the dateless losers in the year. Feels about right to end it all this way.”

“I didn’t think Michelle would be interested in all that stupid stuff, if I’m honest.”

“I think that’s what you assumed. If you’d asked her, she might have told you something different.”

“Hm,” I say. “More evidence of being a kind of shit boyfriend, isn’t it?”

An infinitesimal smile nudges at her lips. “I always said you were better apart. She really brought out the worst in you.”

“It felt that way, to be honest. When I was with her, I really didn’t like myself, or I wasn’t completely myself around her.”

“Well, then. Hopefully, one day you’ll find someone who lets you be yourself. It’s what everyone wants for themselves.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“I kind of thought you’d found that with Evie.”

I sigh, suddenly irritated, while she draws into herself, hands tucked under her arms. “Sorry,” she says. “I don’t know the right thing to say about her.”

“I kind of wish you wouldn’t say anything to me about her, because, like…”

“It isn’t my business, and all that,” she finishes, and with a nod, she turns her face toward the bushes flanking the garden with their spiky black leaves silhouetted against the deep blue sky.

My voice trembles. “Jen, I don’t want to be angry with you right now, like, I don’t want to go off and start this new part of my life when I feel this way, but the things you said to Evie at the festival, I just… It’s like, no matter how much I think it over, I can’t come up with a reason you would say those things to her.”

She tugs the sleeve of her top between her teeth, just shaking her head. I lift my hands from my lap to look at them. They are quivering, so I clench them into fists as I continue.

“You should have been there on that second night, Jen, and seen the way she was crying. The things you said got into her head, you know what I mean? You can’t just make shit up and tell it to someone like it’s a fact. I know you love to gossip and tell stories, but this is what happens when you go too far. It has real consequences. Like, a real impact on people.”

“Yeah.”

“You told her I was staying.”

Again, she agrees, eyes still fixed on the garden. 

“Jen.”

She swallows, hard. 

“How come you said that? It’s not like I ever told you I was going to do that, is it?”

She mumbles something incoherent. 

“What? Come on, just talk to me.”

“I assumed you would.”

“You assumed? Why would you assume?”

I realise that speaking is difficult for her, as she is holding back her tears. I should feel more sympathetic towards her, but I’m righteous. With a steadiness I know is shrinking her, I stare into her face.

“Maybe it was both that I assumed and I hoped. Like, a mixture of the two.”

“Go on.”

“You seemed happy this summer, at certain moments. It was just… like,” a laboured swallow, “you’d come home late after being with her, and you were just… Happy, and talking all about her and going on and on about the funny things she said to you.”

“So?”

“So, like, I thought you’d end up going out with her in the end, and that you felt so strongly about her that you’d stay in Dublin to be with her. I don’t know, it didn’t seem that crazy an idea. You were acting like you were in love or something.” Now, she looks at me, her eyes hurt, but still searching for confirmation. Perhaps, if she were especially astute, she might have seen somewhere on my face the flash of emotion that jolted through me. I convince myself she hasn’t seen a thing and clench my jaw. 

“I think that was a fairly stupid assumption to make.”

“I don’t. You’ve always done things because pretty girls wanted you to. It’s like your life is based around chasing whatever feeling it is that you get when one of them likes you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“It’s not,” I insist. “Look at me now, huh? I’m leaving her for Germany.”

“Fine,” she whispers. “I just thought you’d stay. That’s all.”

“I won’t.”

“I know that.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Do you?”

She exhales, frustrated, and throws her hands upon her lap. “Yes, I know it. Look at me, here, at your going away party. It’d be pretty fucking mental if I didn’t know it, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’ve acknowledged it.”

“You haven’t talked to me in two weeks.”

“Before that, Jen.”

She fixes the full, passionate force of her stare at me as tears fill her eyes. “Because I don’t want you to go, do I? Because I thought if I didn’t look at it, then it’d all just go away.”

I feel a surge of emotion. My throat tightens as though clenched by a fist. “Well… It doesn’t.”

“Yeah,” as the first tears spill onto her cheeks, she wipes them away with the heel of her hand. “I just didn’t want things to end. I thought if you stayed for her, then I wouldn’t have to lose you, and nothing would change.”

“They have to, though. That’s how life goes. Everything changes and everything ends, and we all just get older and things move on.”

She whimpers. “But you’re moving on without me.”

I reach out and stroke her knee with my thumb over the loose threads of the hole in her jeans. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“I just don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You’ll just live your life, and I’ll live mine, and-”

“We’ll be apart. How can I go without seeing you all the time? You’ve always just been there, and now I’ll have to get used to you being so far away, and never seeing you, and you’re, like, one of the few friends I even have, and you-”

“No, come on. You’ll make new friends in college.”

“I don’t want new friends. I don’t want to meet new people and have to explain these little things about me, and my backstory and what I like to watch on TV and order at the takeaway, and what sorts of jokes make me laugh. You already know it all, and you’ll know them better than anyone else ever will, because you were there when I decided I liked them.”

“Jenny, we’ll still talk, and we’ll visit each other-”

“There’s no point pretending it’ll be the same, because it won’t. You’re going to say you’ll stay in touch with me and we’ll be best friends forever, but that won’t happen. You’ll find people who are better, and just forget.”

“Never.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[essjujutsu]

CHAPTER Ⅱ: MITSKI & MONDAYS

prev , next , masterlist

okay so maybe you were already nervous about the first day of your new school.

and maybe listening to your depressing playlist at 7 in the morning wasn't helping that.

but mitski can help calm your nervs to! but with yuji blasting his music in his room right across the hall, it didn't necessarily get the mood right anyways.

"yn, hurry up! we gotta go in like—two minutes!"

"im coming!!"

you reply, grabbing your backpack. you hopped through your messy floor, clothes spattered out from your unpacked suitcase.

you ran down the stairs, seeing yuji sitting on the floor next to the front door and sukuna rummaging through the upper cabinets of the kitchen.

"here, take these for the walk."

you don't have enough time to fully comprehend what your uncle's saying before a protein bar is being flowed full force at your face—though thankfully you throw your hands up and catch it in the air. you throw the second one to yuji, who instantly unwraps it and starts eating it.

"first day—tough shit. todays when you make first impressions on everyone. good luck."

"oh, uhm—thanks?"

you reply, raising a eyebrow at sukuna's comment. he was being nice—maybe? you couldn't really tell. but before you get to decide yuji announces its time to get going so you wave a quick goodbye to your uncle as you walk outside.

"don't worry, its not a long walk—only like ten minutes give or take."

yuji says, taking out an airpod so he could hear. you nod, opening your phone to make sure you have your schedule for the third time today.

yuji was right, after about 15 minutes you arrive at school. you bite the inside of your lip slightly, a nervous habit you picked up over the years.

"so, were still early, me and my friends always come a bit early 'cause we like to hang before classes and—"

yuji starts, but before he finishes his sentence someone comes rushing from behind the two of you.

"yuji, yn! hey!"

you look behind you at the girl waving. she had dyed orange hair, nobara!

"nobara! there you are!"

"sorry, i know we usually walk to school together but i woke up late—anyways, hi yn!"

nobara replys, walking up to stand in the middle of you and yuji. she smiles as she grabs both of your arms—starting to walk into school.

"its so nice to have another girl in the group, y'know. it's just me and maki, and she dosen't really like shopping so she never goes with me. sometimes panda or toge come but like barley ever 'cause their always 'busy'—"

wow, you only really met her yesterday and she was already talking to you like you were close friends. you smiled, at least meeting yuji's friends was off to a good start then.

nobara countined talking untill you three reached the bustling cafeteria, her and yuji seemed to look around for a moment—trying to find their other friends. then yuji's eyes open a little wide and he points to the back of the cafeteria.

"there they are, let's go!"

he says, practically dragging you through the crowds of tables. nobara had already ran ahead, running to go grab a chair and sit down.

once you finnaly approached the table you looked up to five sets of eyes directly on you.

your mouth starts to turn into an awkward smile as you look around the table trying to deicde what to say, but thankfully for you, yuji most of the time knows how you feel.

"everyone, this is yn!"

he grabs your shoulders, presenting you to the group in a way before laughing. he moves his arms to point—starting at the two at the end of the table.

"yn, this is panda and toge! them, maki, and yuta are all a year older then us. but trust me, you can't tell with these two."

he giggles, his joke resulting in the white haired boy giving your brother a small "hey!" and turning to face you.

"you don't look to much like yuji, you should've ate him in the womb honestly."

panda laughs in response to that, an you can't help but laugh aswell.

"ha-ha, sooo funny guys."

yuji responds, rolling his brown eyes. he points to the two in the chairs next to them.

"those two there are yuta and maki! my favoire girlboss and her malewife-"

"shut up yuji."

the girl with the black hair and glasses replies, standing up and slamming her hands on the table annoyed.

she did look oddly familiar though...did you know her from somewhere?

she notices your confused look at her and raises an eyebrow, as if to ask if you have something to say. nobara wasn't kidding when she said she was intimating.

"sorry, you just look awfully familiar—that's all!"

"hm, you went to the boarding school north from here right?"

you nod in response, wondering what she's getting at. maybe you went to school with her?

"you must know mai. she goes there."

oh it clicks into place, shes related to mai. you didn't know mai all that well, but you did know she was mean. they must be twins, hopefully maki isn't anything like her sister.

"don't worry, im not like her—she's an asshole."

you let out a small sigh of relief. thank god. you turn your eyes to the one person who you haven't met yet. he was sitting at the other end of the table, on his phone. nobara was next to him—she was saying something but he didn't seem to be listening. you reconized him from a couple of yuji's instagram posts, but you didn't remember his name. he looked tired and like he didn't want to be there—which made you wonder why he seemed to hang out with them.

"oh yeah, yn—this is megumi! he's in our grade."

nobara says, as yuji sits down on the table next to him. was this the other best friend yuji had mentioned before? he seemed pretty annyoed as he took off his headphones.

"uh, nice to meet you!"

you say, giving him a small smile. he didn't seem all that interested in talking.

"nice to meet you."

"sorry, he totally puts up this whole 'mysterious and nonchalant' vibe around people—he's not even-"

"shut up, yuji."

nobara was in the middle of doing something with her phone as she spoke up.

"here yn, i added you to our group chat. check it after class m'kay?"

you responded with an agreement, as the bell rang for you to head to your class.

BACKGROUND INFO: - nobara, yuji, toge, panda and maki all met in middle school, megumi later moved into town and became friends with yuji—who added him to their friendgroup - yuta moved last year, and he became friends with maki (and then the rest of the group), are him & maki dating? who knows! i don't think they know either LMFAO - there will be more of each character! i just wanted to get quick character intros

A/N: i'll try to have chapter 3 out by this weekend! again sorry if anythings ooc or if my grammer sucks ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

TAGLIST: (ask 2 be added) @1ndee @4ngelfries @jammofsammichflip @notveevee @qtnfer @love-me-satoru @satoryaa @loriisheart @starrnai if the tag dosen't work, change ur settings pls !

[sitp-recs]

i bet you've seen this one plenty of times before, but:

can you rec some drarry fics where jealousy is an important motif? it can be infidelity if they're an established couple, or just getting with someone else while the two of them are dancing around one another. would be great to see recs both where harry is jealous and where draco is jealous. i prefer a happy ending, but i'll be grateful either way.

since i'm here let me also say i admire what you do, your incredible ability to recall and sort through so many stories. this fandom is lucky to have you! <3

Hello friend! Thank you for the kind words, I really appreciate it ❤️ here are some fics centered on jealousy. I did a few other lists for this trope over the years, you can find them here, here and here.

Jealous Harry:

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6.5k)

Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (E, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Two to Lie and One to Listen by @fluxweeed (E, 84k)

It’s weird when Hermione announces that she and Ron have broken up. It’s weirder when this is followed by the revelation that she’s already moved on—and the new object of her affections is Draco Malfoy.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

Jealous Draco:

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (E, 6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (E, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.” “It’s not me though, is it?” Draco all but shouted, unable to stop himself.

The Partner, The Rival and The Very Big Case by oceaxe (E, 24k)

When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (E, 31k)

Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

[ross-hollander]

Hangar feng shui...

...is believed in almost universally. The intersection of soldiers and technology experts breeds a deep atmosphere of superstition. Any luck that can be accrued by hook or crook must be, to offset the unlimited ways that things can go wrong. For instance:

Fire runs on the sun's path, lightning runs on the magnetic poles. On Terra, for instance, that is respectively east-west and north-south. You want neither of these energies trapped in the hangar, so it's best to have either no doors that face either direction- so the hangar has to sit at an angle -or to have two doors facing each other to ensure passage through.

Good-condition 'mechs serve as talismans of abundance or prosperity. You want them in the maintenance niches closest the door. On the other hand, the scrap bin or write-off pile is a fortune sink, and should therefore be neutralized by placing it off-center, preferably in a corner.

Metallic energy strengthens 'mechs and eases the whole of the repair process. Wood saps metal, though, so avoid any wood in the hangar: chairs, crates, anything. The most keen adherents will avoid using paper (it is, after all, an incarnation of wood) in favor of digital tablets for note-taking.

Power tools should be stored disassembled, at risk of losing their will from being ready for use but not at work. They are to be, so to speak, put off-duty when their service for the day is done, and then put back together for use the next.

From the main door, if you're starting with an empty hangar, 'mechs should fill in spots starting from the left side, and only then taking niches on the right. (You solidify the usually weak side first, before you start putting any into port on the right, to achieve a balanced state.)

Fire stations (the emergency hubs with respirators, oxy tanks, hoses and extinguishers) should be spaced along the length of the hangar, right down the center. Vitally, they should be equidistant between the maintenance niches on each side. Fire, after all, is weakening to metal, and since the stations are designed to defeat fire, leaving one 'mech further than another would result in a lopsided defense.

A 'mech must never be bordered on both sides by ones of equal energy, either stellar or nebular. Thus, for instance, a brawler can be bordered on one side by a skirmisher, but should have an ambusher or juggernaut on the other. Failure to regulate this will result in obstructed energy flow, and consequently stubborn or malfuctional 'mechs.

When traversing the hangar, never move straight across from one niche to another, or your path may form an energy barrier. What you want to do is move in a diagonal, like starting from the corner of one slot that's closer to the door, and then ending at the corner of the one across from it that is farther away.

[penkura]

I don't know how to word it properly but I want to request, Penguin and y/n (who are currently not dating) go on a Wano festival date.

Dressed in yukatas, playing games, winning prizes for each other, hand feeding food/takoyaki to eachother to try, watching fireworks near a cherry tree, a petal falls on one of their heads and they brush it out flustering the other a bit ☺️💕 That classic anime/manga trope.

Omg yes, the classic anime trope with Penguin, my heart. 💚💚 This is so cute thank you for this! I can see Penguin in this situation so well!

When Penguin asked you to be his date for one of the post-battle Wano festivals, you were quick to accept with such a bright smile that he couldn’t help but return it. He didn’t think you’d actually agree at first, but when you did, he was ecstatic! He was worried you didn’t feel the same way or would just say no thanks, but even Law could see how much the two of you liked each other. It was a wonder you hadn’t gotten together yet.

He figures the two of you will just see what happens the day of your date, there’s no definite plan apart from the end of the night. There’s going to be fireworks again and Penguin fully intends on bringing you to the hill with a cherry blossom tree to watch them. He does realize there might be other couples there, but it doesn’t matter. He likes you so much, he wants to make this first date special!

Penguin is so nervous though when he leads you through the festival stalls, holding your hand to keep from losing you in the crowd. He was nervous before you two even took off on your own, but when he sees you in your yukata he felt the blush creep up his face as you smile at him and tell him he looks nice in his blue yukata. He stammers out a thank you and replies in kind, which makes you just as happy.

Penguin watches you stare at a stuffed animal that one of the game stalls has, it’s a cute little penguin, making him grin over it. Maybe you’re thinking about him, or maybe it’s just a cute plush to you. Either way, the way you’re looking at it tells him you want it more than other toys or prizes you’ve seen tonight. When he offers to play the game to get it, you try to tell him not to worry about it.

“I don’t want you to waste your money on it! It’s just a plush, I can—”

“No, it’s not a waste at all!” Penguin’s grin is more then enough to make you relent, as he leads you over to the stall and puts down the money for the game, receiving three balls to throw at the bottles set up in return. “Just watch, I’m great at this!”

He might have over exaggerated his skills, but Penguin gets so close the third time, the stall runner gives him a smaller stuffed penguin as a prize. He feels a little bad that he could get you the bigger plush prize, but the second he hands it to you and tries to apologize, you just give him a kiss on the cheek that makes his face redder than before as you smile.

“This is perfect, thank you, Penguin! He’s adorable!”

You both decide to get some food after that, agreeing on a takoyaki stand nearby the game, Penguin stays to wait for your order while you wander off to another stall for a moment. When you meet back up, Penguin takes your hand again and starts to lead you somewhere you can sit to eat, picking a spot near a cheery tree so you can wait for the fireworks too.

“Did you find something at the stall you went to?”

“Oh, I did!” You give him a grin while you pull a small package from your sleeve and hold it out to him, “It’s a good luck charm for you!”

“You…you didn’t need to spend money on—”

“Well you got me the plushie…it’s only fair you get something too!”

He really can’t argue with you about that, he might even need that good luck charm after tonight. He feels like all his luck is gone anyway, just because you accepted his invitation. Penguin thanks you while he takes the charm, before offering your share of the takoyaki to you. His face goes bright red when you don’t take it from his hand and just eat it right off the skewer, still in his hand, telling him it’s one of the better takoyaki you’ve had.  You laugh a bit at his embarrassed face when you offer a piece to him, which he eats in the same way.

He's so cute.

The rest of your food gets forgotten at you start talking, both glad everyone made it through the fight against Kaido and Big Mom, relieved nothing happened to Law or the other captains, or any of your friends. There so much to be done before your crew takes off, but you’re happy to have a small break, a night to relax and do whatever, especially with Penguin. Once the fireworks start, you watch them for a bit before looking back to your date, smiling as you watch him instead.

You’re beyond happy he asked you out, you had planned to do so before he got to you the day before. The fact he actually asked surprised you, after all the mutual flirting and a few close first kisses, he finally decided to ask you on a date, you went to Ikkaku squealing and non-stop smiling the rest of the day. After the last few years of having a crush on him, it’s nice to see it’s returned, you aren’t worried you’ve wasted time getting to know him better.

You surprise Penguin by brushing a few cherry blossom petals off his hat before placing a kiss on his cheek and laying your head on his shoulder. He knows his face must be redder the candy apples being sold, but he doesn’t mind, not when he puts his arm around your shoulders and kisses your forehead in return.

“This was a nice first date.”

“Yeah…?” You nod as Penguin realizes something, “Wait, ‘first’?”

“Well, yeah,” you glance up in time to see Penguin’s face is red but he’s starting to smile, “I expect we’ll have another one in a few days or something, after we leave Wano. Seems like Captain doesn’t mind it so.”

You shrug while Penguin laughs a bit, nodding.

“We’ll definitely have another date.”

[justhereforxreaders]

The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part Seven: The Rift

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: while still reeling from your first day in King’s Landing, you must come to terms with the command given during your private conversation with Princess Rhaenyra.

Warnings: angst, anxiety/panic attacks

part one: the oath

part two: tempest

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part five: precipice

part six: pieces and players

soundtrack - listening recommendations:

• triassic love song by Paris Paloma • I’d Have to Think About It by Leith Ross • putting a spin on good luck, babe! by Egg • Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan •

After making your way through the endless maze of The Red Keep, and finally finding your newly assigned chambers within the palace, you sat in the stillness trying to calm yourself. Though you’d have likely found more rest if you had continued to wander. The opulence of the vast, unfamiliar space only made you feel more isolated and out of place.

With no other anchor to cling to as you try to soothe your heartache, your mind drifts to your mother.

Six short years of life by her side gave you little insight into the kind of person she was, or the kind of person she hoped you’d be. She was likely kind, and certainly clever, but what you knew without question was that she was incomparably fierce. In your bleakest moments on your journey with Tempest, you’d holdfast to the memory of her strength, using it endure whatever challenges you faced.

Surviving life’s hardships was your way to honor her sacrifices. And though, you told yourself that she’d be proud of who you’d become, you’d always pondered what kind of life she’d have wished for you if survival hadn’t been her primary driving force. If she’d been given the opportunity to be carefree and gentle, what kind of person would that have made you. Surely she wanted more than mere survival for you, but was the life you sold yourself to what she’d have wanted for you? Were you still honoring her memory?

Which was why, as fierce as you had made yourself and as hard as you fought to prove your worth within a realm of dragonlords, you also strived to preserve some of the softness within you that she was denied. If there was hope that you’d be able to find a peaceful life, you wanted your heart to be able to receive it.

However, as you sit alone with an ache so powerful it feels as though your chest has been set alight, you begin to despise your effort to protect that tenderness. If all you were meant to do was simply become a pawn in someone else’s game, what use was there for softness? What need was there for love?

You are so consumed by your thoughts that you do not hear the soft knock at your door or the quiet footsteps that tiptoe across the room as you lie motionless on top of your bedding. When Jace whispers your name from the foot of the bed, it takes you a moment to realize it is not in your head.

“Are you alright?” he whispers slightly louder, voice laced with concern. “I returned to the godswood and you had already gone.”

You sit up slowly, avoiding his eyes, and fold your legs beneath you, keeping your gaze fixed on the fabric below. After a beat and no response from you, you hear him shuffle around to the side of the bed.

“What did my mother speak to you about?” He asks quietly and your breath hitches.

He takes notice and moves to sit at the edge of the bed. Unable to bring yourself to voice the Princess’s command, you force yourself to look up and find his gaze in the dark. His eyes widen at your disheveled state and he darts a hand out to grasp yours.

“What happened?” He asks in a frantic whisper. “What’s wrong?”

You close your eyes and take your hand from his, steadying yourself with a shaky breath before finding your voice.

“I have been instructed to keep my distance from you,” your voice cracks, hoarse from hours of silence following your onslaught of tears.

“By who?” He moves closer to your face to see you clearly, “My mother?”

You sigh deeply and nod your head, he stands from the bed suddenly and you watch as he begins to pace the floor.

“She believes the nature of our companionship could be called into question, thus, jeopardizing your prospects for alliances through marriage.” You mutter.

“I fail to see why anyone would concern themselves with such speculation. You are my friend. Where is the fault in that?” He huffs and continues to pace back and forth.

“Jacaerys,” you say softly, “look at us. The closeness of our friendship is no secret to anyone, but what if you were to be discovered here? Alone in my chambers in the dead of night?” He stops in his tracks, as if this is the first he’s considered this, “Accusations and assumptions would not be difficult to form.”

“Why should it matter what they say, if it isn’t true?” He mumbles, staring intently at the floor.

“It doesn’t matter what they say or what they think,” You stand, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to contain the sorrow building within, “but I cannot allow them to turn me into a weapon to be used against you.”

His head snaps up in your direction, the confusion plain on his face as you continue.

“Look at why we’ve travel all this way in the first place. There are always going to be those looking to undermine and discredit someone in your position. Whether you admit it or not, you know our friendship could harm you and your standing. I will not risk being complicit in your pain.”

“And what of the pain that your absence would inflict? Why must we be forced to choose between happiness and duty?” He pleads and steps toward you.

“Your mother tried to have both, did she not?” You say plainly and he finds your eyes before placing his hands on your arms.

“Yes but this is different, there has to be a way,” there is a desperation in his voice that you have not heard before that breaks your heart even further, “Why must her mistakes determine our future? We can find our own path.”

You step closer and unfold your arms, taking hold of his hands as he makes to pull them away.

“The moment I took my oath, I knew I was giving up my right to my own path, Jace. For a time, it was easy to forget the larger roles we would be called to play. It felt like we could have both…” your voice trails off as you absentmindedly run your thumbs across the backs of his hands, “But the pieces are moving. And we must take our place.” Your voice wavers, if there were any tears left in your body they would be flowing freely.

He looks down at your clasped hands, gripping them tighter.

“But I can’t lose you.” He utters before returning his gaze back to yours, tears beginning to form in his deep brown eyes, “If I am to walk this horrid path then I only wish to do it with you by my side.”

You both stand quietly in the darkness, searching each other’s eyes, letting his words hang in the air around the two of you.

A hushed gasp leaves his lips and he takes a step back. Eyes wide and hands trembling as they leave yours. You cross your arms over your chest, taking a ragged breath which causes Jacaerys to take half step forward. Raising a palm in protest, you step away.

“Please go,” you sob softly.

He opens his mouth slightly, a question forming on his lips.

“Please, Jace,” you interrupt as sternly as you can manage, “I can’t.”

He closes his mouth and stares at you for a moment, unmoving, eyes locked on your face. Involuntarily, he begins to walk towards the door, still watching you intently, conflict and confusion becoming clearer upon his face with every step away from you. You nod silently once he reaches the door and with one last pained glance he exits your chambers, once again leaving you in solitude.

You retreat back to the bed and collapse into the fabric, curling up on your side as the tearless sobs begin to rack your body once more. Cursing the tenderness you have allowed to blossom there. As you desperately will the pain into numbness, you are at last given some relief as you are mercifully pulled into a dreamless sleep.

You awake with the dawn in a daze, taking a moment to remember where you are as you look about your unfamiliar surroundings. Once your mind is fully pulled from the fog of sleep, you stand from the bed and make your way across the room, trying to stretch your tired muscles as you pull fresh clothes from your bag.

As you rummage through your belongings, the red cloak you were gifted when you were sworn into service comes to the surface. You look upon it quietly for a moment before retrieving your other items of clothing and rushing back to the bed to dress yourself, doing your best to stomp out the sparks of anguish that its appearance brings forth.

Dressing yourself slowly and deliberately, you keep your mind focused on each step, trying to avoid inciting any further emotional responses. However, the red of the cloak makes that task all the more difficult as it lingers in the periphery of your vision. After fully dressing you dart back to the bag, intent on burying the cloak deep within, but a knock on the door stays your hand for the moment.

A handmaiden enters and offers you a bow.

“The Lady Baela,” she announces and backs out through the door as Baela steps forward.

“Good morrow, y/n,” she says with a bright smile.

“Good morrow, my Lady,” you bow stiffly, “how can I be of service?”

She walks forward, looking over your chambers until she spies a small table then turns back to you.

“I thought we might break fast together before we make our way to the throne room for the petitions,” she grimaces slightly at the mention of today’s events, “I imagined my cousins would be occupied with other affairs and didn’t want you to be left behind.”

The thought of the Princes causes a twisting pain in your chest but you do your best to smile politely.

“Thank you,” you mutter, “that’s very kind of you.”

She makes her way across the floor to stand next to you, a mischievous glimmer in her eye.

“I wondered if you might tell me about your travels as well,” she quirks a brow inquisitively, “Rhaena has already told me so much but I’d love to hear them from you if you’re willing to share?”

“Rhaena has told you about me?” Your brow furrows as you register her words.

“She has,” she chuckles lightly at your expression, “in letters and through most of the night, in fact.”

“That is surprising,” you say, taken aback by this revelation, “I thought she despised me.”

“She may,” she shrugs, rolling her eyes at her twin,“but more than anything she hates what she was denied. When we lived in Pentos, we had heard rumors of the wild sea dragon that lurked in the waters. For a time, Rhaena had plans to find it and claim it for herself before our mother died.”

You reel back in disbelief.

“I was unaware I had such a reputation,” you breath a laugh, a genuine smile growing at the corner of your lips.

Baela smirks and nods her head.

“You and your dragon have made quite a name for yourselves,” she takes you by the crook of the arm, “I look forward to testing mine and Moondancer’s mettle against yours one day.”

“I look forward to that as well, my Lady,” you nod in agreement.

Another knock rings out and more servants enter with platters of warm food.

“Shall we?” She asks and gestures towards the table where the meal has been placed.

“Yes please,” you say with a grateful sigh.

Conversation with Baela flowed effortlessly, bringing an ease to your soul as the two of you swapped stories over the meal. The relief was much too short lived however, as once the servants had cleared the table, Baela’s handmaiden steps forward.

“It’s time, my Lady,” she informs the two of you and you freeze in place.

Baela sees the change in your demeanor and thanks her handmaiden before she stands and moves to offer her hand to pull you from your seat.

“We’ll be along shortly.” She calls with a nod before returning her attention to you.

Her eyes soften and she sighs quietly.

“My mother used to say that The Red Keep was poisonous, but that poison could not harm a dragon.”

You take her hand and she pulls you to your feet.

“You may not be the blood of the dragon. But you certainly have the heart of one,” she smiles softly meeting your eyes to ensure you understand, “Don’t let them take that from you.”

You take a deep breath and stand at attention.

“Are you ready?” She asks calmly.

“Yes,” you pause, looking back to your belongings, “just give me one moment.”

You step over to your bag pull the cloak free, swinging it over your shoulders in one swift motion before affixing it with a black dragon clasp. Returning to Baela’s side, she beams proudly and links her arm through yours.

“Onwards, Dragon Rider.”

• @freefallthoughts @eywas-heir

[moodymelanist]

Step Back, Doors Closing

happy day 4 of @nessianweek everyone! AU day is one of my favorites and I hope you enjoy yet another hyperspecific nessian in DC fic haha.

Summary: Nesta has had it up to here with the guy who doesn’t understand City Rules™.

Word Count: 3.3k

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Nesta 

It was the second week of her highly coveted summer job, and Nesta was going to be late.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she muttered under her breath as her train took its time shuttling into Metro Center. She had another train to catch, and while normally she arrived at her station with more than enough time to catch her second train to McPherson Square, she’d overslept by just enough time to throw everything out of whack.

Nesta had just finished her second year of law school, and her firm hadn’t wasted any time in getting her started. She’d worked her ass off all year to land this position, and she wasn’t going to fuck it up so early in the summer by strolling in late like some of the other summer associates. She didn’t have a rich father or so many connections that going to law school was almost a formality; she’d put in the work to earn her spot, and she wasn’t going to let something as simple as missing her connecting train stop her from clawing her way to the top of her summer class.

Thankfully, the Red Line’s doors opened relatively quickly, and Nesta nearly ran a few unsuspecting people over as she raced through the station toward the escalators to catch whatever train was coming next. It didn’t matter if she caught a Blue, Orange, or Silver; she just needed to be on the next train, for God’s sakes.

“Excuse me!” Nesta called out as she took to the stairs at a run, her irritation already flaring at the people who just didn’t seem to understand the rules of living in a city. She loved the District, but she didn’t love just how many tourists and those unfamiliar with the Metro seemed to flock to the train during the summer. How hard was it to remember to stand on the right and leave the left clear?

Everyone seemed to get with the program except for one massive guy who was standing on the left side of the escalator without recognizing the dirty looks being thrown at him from behind. Nesta didn’t have time to wait for him to get with the program, though, so she yelled even louder, “Hey! Hi! Excuse me!” 

“Huh?” The guy turned and looked over one of his very muscular shoulders, his hazel eyes widening slightly at the look on Nesta’s face. He had just enough of a drawl to suggest he wasn’t from around here, but Nesta was far too worried about missing her train to take in just how good-looking he was or how much she liked the accent on his lips. “Sorry, ma’am. Let me get out of your way.” 

“Thanks,” Nesta told him as he moved his frankly massive body to the right, finally giving her the opening she needed to sprint down the rest of the escalator. She had to shove her foot into the door to stop it from closing on her, but by the grace of whatever god was listening she managed to make it inside the train just before it left.

“Fucking idiot tourists,” Nesta muttered under her breath, practically collapsing into her seat as she caught her breath. She absolutely hated running for the train, especially around those who didn’t know any better. Hopefully she wouldn’t run into the guy again.

Besides, did she really look that old to be called ma’am? What a dick.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

The rest of Nesta’s week was thankfully uneventful commute-wise, and she was very grateful that she didn’t have to sprint through Metro Center looking like an idiot at eight thirty in the morning again. 

Nesta’s luck didn’t hold forever, though. Nearly two weeks later, she’d stayed out later than usual the night before because of a networking dinner, and pressing snooze one too many times on her alarm led to her jumping out of bed with a series of curses so vulgar her mother was probably rolling in her grave at how unladylike all of it was. 

Nesta rushed through the fastest shower of her life, somehow managing to make herself presentable in twenty minutes before she hauled ass out the door to get to Cleveland Park. She thankfully had enough time to drink a cup of coffee and take another to go before she left her apartment, but all the coffee in the world couldn’t prepare her for how the rest of her morning was going to play out.

“Excuse me! Excuse me! Jesus fucking Christ, excuse me!” Nesta snapped, already out of patience with it all as she maneuvered her way off her first train and downstairs to the other half of the station. To add insult to injury, one of the escalators was apparently having some kind of issue, so instead of the two going down and one going up, there was only one of each.

Of course this was happening on what was already a very shitty morning. At the sound of a train approaching on the lower level, Nesta tightened her grip on her coffee and hauled ass to make it to the working escalator, ready to make that train come hell or high water. She would’ve made it too, if not for the giant wall of muscle that was once a-fucking-gain taking up a truly ridiculous amount of room on the escalator. Despite her increasingly loud calls of excuse me, the man didn’t move out of her way until just in time for the doors to shut right in front of Nesta’s quickly reddening face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Nesta practically snarled under her breath, her chest heaving from her now-pointless sprint. Before she could stop herself, she whirled around to face the man responsible, clutching her thermos so tightly it was a miracle the material didn’t crumple under her hand. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry?” he replied after a second. Today he had on a pale blue polo tucked into a pair of darker navy slacks, and she hated how good he looked in the outfit when all she wanted to do was rip his head off. 

“You made me miss my fucking train,” she continued, really working up steam now, “because you’re apparently incapable of remembering what side of the escalator to stand on. So I ask again: what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m not from around here,” the man responded after a moment, at least having the decency to look a little sheepish as he stared down at Nesta. He had a badge clipped through one of his belt loops that said Cassian. “We don’t have public transit like this back home. I’m used to driving everywhere.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you have back home,” she snapped. The next train was coming in three minutes, so she had plenty of time to tell this Cassian about himself before she made it into the office. “You’re not in fucking Kansas anymore. Get with the goddamn program.”

“It’s Texas, actually,” Cassian answered, apparently completely unruffled by her outburst. It only made her want to lash out at him more, but judging by the amusement twinkling in his eye, she wasn’t totally sure that would be a problem for him.

“It’s an expression,” Nesta hissed. God, she needed more coffee; the stuff she had clearly wasn’t strong enough to deal with this idiot, but it didn’t stop her from taking a healthy swallow from her thermos. “Surely they have those back home.”

“We have plenty of things back home,” he replied cheerfully, though she suspected it probably fell into that faux-Southern kindness she’d heard about before. “Including manners. And politeness.”

“If you want that so bad, then maybe you should fuck back off to Texas,” she retorted. She looked down to her feet and was incredibly thankful that the lights on the edge of the platform had started flashing, signaling the next train was about a minute away. “We do things a little differently on the East Coast.”

“Yep,” Cassian told her, the amusement fading from his eyes. She felt a vicious burst of satisfaction as a hint of annoyance began to creep into his voice. “I’m beginning to see that.”

“So you are capable of learning,” Nesta said just as her train pulled into the station. She turned over her shoulder to give him one last icy look before she boarded her train, adding, “Keep up the good work.”

✵✵✵✵✵✵

By the time Nesta made it back to Metro Center after work, she was more than ready to complete her commute in peace. Her feet hurt, she was nursing a low-grade headache, and all she wanted was to change into her most comfortable pajamas and maybe throw on a face mask while she caught up on Interview With the Vampire. Maybe the universe would be kind for once and actually let her.

It seemed the universe was hell-bent on ruining her day, though, because there weren’t any seats available on the train back to Shady Grove. Nesta sighed heavily, trying to convince herself she was completely fine with standing the entire way back to Cleveland Park; her shoes were killing her, and she’d forgotten to charge her AirPods before she’d left work for the day, but it was fine. Totally, completely, and one hundred percent fine.

“You want to sit down?”

Nesta looked up from where she’d been reading something on her phone, unable to come up with a coherent response as she realized it was the guy from earlier – Cassian, who was still looking way too good in his blue outfit. 

“What?” Nesta replied, her brain not completely firing on all cylinders after the day she’d had.

“I said, did you want to sit down?” Cassian repeated. He was sitting nearly directly across from her in one of the seats right by the doors, and he’d already started to pick up his backpack like he fully intended to get up.

Of course he was offering her his seat out of some misguided sense of chivalry. At any other time, Nesta would’ve rolled her eyes and told him to fuck off, that she could stand up just fine; after the last few weeks, though, the worst part wasn’t even that he’d offered. 

It was that she was considering taking it. 

“Just—” Cassian began, looking more and more exasperated the longer Nesta stared at him like he had two heads. “Just let me do this. Okay?”

“Why?” Nesta asked, suspicious. 

“I know I fucked up this morning,” he answered. God, that drawl shouldn’t be as attractive as it was; Nesta cursed her tired brain for liking the sound of his voice even more than usual. “And a lot of other mornings, if we’re being honest. Can this be a minor peace offering?”

Nesta weighed her options as the train began slowing down. On the one hand, sitting down would be amazing, but on the other, she didn’t know if she wanted to let this weird thing she had with Cassian go just quite yet. Still, her feet were hurting, so she just sighed and told herself it didn’t have to mean a single, goddamned thing, even though she knew the truth.

“Fine,” Nesta finally agreed. Cassian hopped up so she could sit down just as the train came to a stop at Farragut North, and she absolutely didn’t notice the way his arm muscles flexed as he reached up to grab the railing above him. “I still don’t like you, though.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Cassian responded. A satisfied little smile appeared on his lips, and she had to focus somewhere else before she did something stupid like think about totally dropping her grudge because of how good-looking he was. “I hope you weren’t too late for whatever you were rushing off to.”

“My summer associate position is more than just ‘whatever I was rushing off to,’” she replied, too tired from her long day to do more than roll her eyes at him. 

“Summer associate, huh?” he fired back. He seemed appropriately impressed, so maybe he knew some lawyers. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did; this was DC, after all. “What law school are you at?”

“Georgetown,” she answered. She wasn’t totally sure why she was telling him this, but hopefully it wouldn’t come back to bite her in the ass somehow later. She wouldn’t mind if he came back to bite her in the ass, but she viciously shoved that thought out of her mind; now was so not the time. “I’m starting my last year of law school in the fall.”

“That’s nice,” he told her, somehow managing to pack the words with a ridiculous amount of… something. He waited for the train to stop and keep going onto the next stop before adding, “Real nice. I’m on the Hill this summer.”

“You and half the city,” she retorted. If you lived in the District for longer than thirty seconds, you’d meet someone who worked on the Hill. “I hope you don’t think that makes you special.”

“If you think I’m special, then I’ll take it.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can just tell what you’re thinking.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Nesta said, thoroughly ignoring the grin on Cassian’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re working for that piece of shit Ted Cruz.”

“What do you take me for?” Cassian said back with a roll of his pretty eyes. “Not everybody from Texas is a bigot, sweetheart. I’m working for someone with sense, thank you very much.”

“I don’t think you want to know what I take you for,” she replied dryly. 

He just laughed, the sound somehow making her feel a little less frazzled after a shitty day. “I’d ask you, but I don’t want a situation on the Metro.”

“And what kind of situation would that be?” she asked, raising one of her eyebrows. 

“The kind you don’t talk about in polite company,” he responded. His gaze turned just heated enough to make her force herself not to squirm; she was incredibly thankful that most of the people getting on and off the train had headphones in. 

“You think I’m polite now?” she questioned, not quite willing to cede control of the conversation. 

“Nah,” he replied with a teasing grin. “You’re something else, ma’am.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as the train finally started slowing down at Cleveland Park, gathering her belongings as she prepared to get off the train. “My name is Nesta. Not ma’am.”

“What’s wrong with someone calling you ma’am?” Cassian asked. “You don’t like a respectful man?”

“I’ll let you figure that out, Cassian,” she told him just before she got off the train, making a point of using his first name. Maybe he’d be encouraged to do the same. “Don’t make me miss my train again.”

If Cassian had a reply, Nesta didn’t hear it before the doors shut and the train continued onward. As she walked back to her apartment, she half wondered where he lived; she hadn’t seen him on her way home until today, and half of her hoped it wouldn’t become a habit. 

The other half of her almost hoped he would.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Nesta went another few days without seeing Cassian, and then on a fateful Wednesday morning, she spied him standing in the middle of the lower platform with his head on a swivel. She was suddenly and immensely thankful that she hadn’t had to run for the train at all today because of how handsome he looked this morning. He had on a white collared shirt tucked into a pair of dark gray slacks, and she of course noticed the way his muscles were straining against the fabric even with the short sleeves. 

Remember how bad he is at taking public transportation, she told herself as she stepped off the escalator.  God, she wished she’d brought more coffee with her to keep her head in the goddamned game. Remember how he made you miss your train. It doesn’t matter how hot he is. 

All of that went out the window the second Cassian opened his mouth, but Nesta wasn’t as upset about it as she probably should’ve been. He really was hot.

“Hey, Nes,” Cassian said. Nesta realized he was holding a large cup of what was probably coffee, packaged nicely in a dark blue thermos. “I, uh… got you this.”

“What is… this?” Nesta questioned. They had another few minutes before their respective trains came into the station, so she supposed she might as well entertain him a little. It had absolutely nothing to do with how hopefully he was smiling at her.

“Coffee,” he answered, taking a step closer. His cologne smelled way too good and she had to actively stop herself from face planting into the side of his neck to take a deeper whiff. She should’ve never taken that goddamn seat; she was folding faster than a house of cards. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just got something with caramel in it. Hope you got a sweet tooth.”

“Why would I accept coffee from a stranger?” She asked, mostly to watch him squirm. She didn’t know how he’d guessed about her sweet tooth — or how he’d managed to pick the one morning she’d run out of coffee and hadn’t been able to make her usual two cups — but once she was done needling him, she was going to chug the entire thing. 

“Because it’s good coffee?” he replied. “And I think we’re beyond being strangers, sweetheart.”

“Right,” she responded slowly, making sure he could feel how incredulous she found the entire situation. “How do I know you didn’t poison it?” 

Cassian made a big show of twisting off the lid and taking a sip, somehow managing to do that all and swallow without breaking eye contact. It was unfairly hot and he definitely knew it, judging by the little smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. “Better?”

“Fine,” Nesta grumbled, reaching out her hand and wiggling her fingers expectantly. “Let’s see how good this really is.”

Cassian snapped the top back on and handed the thermos over without comment, the cup warm in her hand as he passed it over. Once she got the top open she performed the same trick he had, very much enjoying the way his eyes went a little wide as she brought the thermos to her lips and swallowed. The coffee was good, maybe not as sweet as she may have preferred, but still good all the same. 

“Well?” Cassian asked expectantly. “What do you think?”

“It’s fine,” Nesta answered, taking another sip. “Could be sweeter.”

“Knew you had a sweet tooth, Nes,” he replied smugly. “Just something about you.”

“I just like sugar,” she told him with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“About you being sweet?” he retorted with a knowing grin. “Never that. I like my ladies meaner than a two-headed snake.”

“…Right,” she said, not totally sure what to say back to that. Was that some kind of compliment? Judging by the way he was looking at her, maybe it was supposed to be. “Is that a Texas thing?”

“Nah,” he said back, still grinning. It was really ridiculous how nice of a smile he had. “Just a Cassian thing.”

“I take back what I said before,” she responded with a huff of laughter. She didn’t think she’d ever been hit on in this way before, and it was certainly memorable. “You are special. Definitely something wrong up there.”

“As long as you know what you’re getting into, sweetheart,” he retorted. 

“And what would that be?” Nesta questioned, raising her voice as both of their trains began approaching the station. 

“Let me take you out for a proper dinner and you can find out,” Cassian fired back without missing a beat.

Nesta studied him for a few seconds, finding nothing but earnestness in those hazel eyes she liked so much, and decided to take a chance. “Fine, but only if we drive.”

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