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armpirate · 8 months

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The Only One || JJK || Ch. 27

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 15 minutes

Chapter warnings: [Violence] Torture, disfigurement. [Smut] Unprotected vaginal sex, explicit talk, masturbation (male and female).

Y/n stared at the well crafted ceiling, concentrating on all the details from the lamp after her eyesight was able to focus after a few seconds. She woke up suddenly, in the middle of a deep breath, forcing her body to turn on her back as she tried to find a way to get rid of the pressure she suddenly felt on her chest. Her muscles completely relaxed when she was aware of where she was.

Sneaking her arms out of the blanket, she was finally aware of it. She only brought the pillow with her, but she had to admit she was able to sleep better thanks to being covered from the cold. She guessed Jungkook might've brought it before going back to his room, either when he went to check on her or maybe when he went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

Closing her eyes again, she took a deep breath. There was no point in worrying any longer, she was safe again.

Peace and silence got interrupted by a cracked scream as soon as she stepped out of the couch, resting her feet against something chubby. Startled, and taken by surprise by it, she lost control of her own body and fell over Jungkook's body -who got her as soon as she landed on his chest. That fall worked as a dimmer for her body, feeling the pain on every single one of her bruises at once.

Soon there was nothing to be heard, except of their gasps and whimpers by that clumsy accident.

—Are you okay? —he made sure to ask.

—Yeah —she nodded—. What are you doing here? Imagine if I had stepped on your head instead...

—Don't act like it isn't something you want to do —he scoffed.

And maybe Jungkook was right. She certainly would've stepped on him weeks ago, even being aware that he was sleeping on the ground. But, in that exact moment, after everything that happened, it didn't even cross her mind. She was feeling guilty for not checking out first, but that guilt didn't take long to disappear either. Her mind was getting filled with him, his proximity, his fresh scent invading your nostrils, the shiny ring on his pink lips...

She for sure wanted to do something, and stepping on him was the last thing on that list.

—Maybe you're right —she nodded—. But I'd want to be conscious of what I'm doing, at least. This was an accident... unfortunately —she raised her eyebrow playfully.

—I'll let you step on me as many times you want to if that makes you happy.

That sentence, mixed with the look he was giving her and the new low his voices reached, made all of the hairs in her body rise with excitement.

—Be careful of what you wish.

Still chuckling at her own comment, Y/n tried to get up from the floor, pushing the weight of her body on her arms. A sudden stitch on her elbow made her lose her balance for one brief second, getting Jungkook to sit on his knees fast to make sure she wouldn't fall again.

—Are you okay?

Still holding her elbow, Y/n nodded. She had been through worse, and her body has been in worse conditions than that. She for sure would be able to get through it with no problems. She also was able to recognize the pain in her arm. Everything that happened those weeks, and that fall a few minutes before, contributed to what she usually called "Common pain". It wasn't broken, and she doubted it was a sprain either. It wasn't something that couldn't heal by itself after some rest and ice.

—Yeah —she nodded again—. It just hurts a little bit —she admitted, holding her elbow with the opposite hand.

—Maybe I should call Joonwoo, and get you some medical tests.

—I'm okay —she cackled—. Trust me. It just needs time.

—If it keeps hurting you after a few days, I'll get your ass to the doctor's, like it or not.

Holding back her laugh, she just nodded and agreed to the deal. She wasn't missing much if she did as he said for once.

—I'll prepare some breakfast.

But before he could completely get up and attempt to walk to the kitchen, his phone was ringing on the coffee table of the living room. Changing the plans, Y/n smiled.

—I'll prepare breakfast instead.

Getting lost in the way her hips swayed with every step she took, and how small she looked on his clothes, Jungkook picked up the phone only to be dragged back to reality.

—All of them are here.

Yejun's voice was pretty recognizable, and it wasn't like he didn't expect the call at any point during the day.

—Good.

Jungkook was still half asleep, and still drunk by the brief proximity he felt with Y/n just a few seconds ago. But the mention of the men that were looking after her while she was at Sanhyuk's brought him back to reality.

—I'll deal with it later —he let him know—. For now, just keep them where they are.

—Okay, sir.

As soon as he was aware of Y/n's state, he wasted no time getting every single name that came and left from that house while she was there. Five men and one woman. All of them being carefully watched until she finger pointed at the ones that dared to lay a hand on her.

After having breakfast together, Y/n was aware of Jungkook's sudden silence and seriousness, compared to how vibrant he woke up in the morning -despite falling all over him. She wanted to know what was going through his head, or whether the call he received was the cause of that change, but she understood that maybe those were limits she wasn't supposed to cross yet -or never at all.

There was a slight change in the way he looked at her while they were eating. His expression was still serious, but he seemed concerned by the way she tried to hide some whines whenever she had to move her left arm higher than her muscle was allowing her to in that moment.

—I need you to do something for me —he caught her attention—. If I showed you a pic, could you tell me who were the ones that did all those things to you?

—You don't need to...

—Y/n —her name left his lips in a warning tone—. I need to, and I have to.

—Sanhyuk was the one who did it most of the time —she gulped, avoiding eye contact with him—. But, whenever he didn't feel like it, he sent someone else to do it instead.

—Was it only one person more?

—Two.

Nodding, Jungkook took his phone out of his pocket and tried to find the pictures Yejun sent him the past night. He scrolled over them in front of her, letting Y/n look at those faces carefully while she tried to remember who was in charge of her punishments whenever Sanhyuk felt too tired to do it.

Y/n pointed at two of the men that he showed, shiverings rising all over her body as she remembered the look on their faces whenever they were told to beat her up for any bad word or bad look she dared to give.

Dongsun and Dakho.

They were shitty hitmen with little to no future in Seoul, at least until Sanhyuk chose them to work with him. He wasn't surprised, Jungkook didn't even think those two had enough brain cells to think by themselves without receiving orders.

—I need to leave to the hotel for a few hours —he let her know—. You'll be safe here, there will be bodyguards out of the house in case...

She nodded, making sure Jungkook felt free to leave whenever he needed. She also knew he wasn't going to the hotel -or, at least, she doubted that was the reason he was leaving. Right after asking her to tell him who beated her up those weeks? She for sure didn't know him enough, but she wasn't dumb and was able to link some dots together.

—I'll be okay —she assured him.

She finally felt okay.

✸ ✸ ✸

The five men, including his source in the house, and the woman were all kneeling in front of Jungkook, with their hands tied to their backs. The six of them were beaten up as soon as they got there, and they were all going to have the same fate. The only difference was that he'd allow three of them die fast, and in the most painless way he could think of.

A quick sign from him, and the loud and impacting sound of the gun echoed in the plated walls of the place they were in. Three gunshots from the Magnum one of his men were carrying, with five seconds of difference between each shot.

He was able to see the panic on the other three that were still standing, soon begging for their lives while crying. But not only he was played by one of them, the other two found joy kicking and punching someone innocent, that had done nothing to any of them, finding joy in her pain. It was only fair to pay them the right same way.

—Who wants to be the first one? —he ironically asked.

Smiling at how pathetic they three looked, he raised his index and pointed at each one of them.

—Eeny —his finger fell on Byeongho, the same person who thought he could play him—, meeny —he walked over to Dongsun—, miny —his finger moved to Dakho—, mo.

His smile looked frightening from outside, cold and filled with all the dark thoughts that were clouding his sanity. Byeongho's lips trembled as he was aware he'd be the first one to deal with all the consequences to his actions, while desperately trying to get Jungkook back on his senses and appeal to his empathetic side.

He had none of that. At least not when it came to Y/n and everything they did to her.

—You have such a big mouth, huh? —he raised his pierced eyebrow— Or at least you like to pretend you have it —his five fingers enclosed on his cheeks tight—. Let me help you out to make it a reality.

Unlike other times, he didn't care about the state of the knife. He thought that the less sharp it was, the longest the agony would be. Motioning to the two statues that were standing behind the three people on the floor, Byeongho was being held tight so he wouldn't be able to move or avoid the knife. An anguish scream leaving his mouth as soon as the knife dented against the right corner of his mouth.

When the cut almost reached his right cheek, Jungkook stopped, giving him a fake feeling that he was done with him. But that dark smile was drawn back on his face, setting him up for what was to come.

—Now —he finally talked—, now you'll be able to go around with that big mouth and speak all the bullshit you like.

Dropping the knife to the floor with a gasp, letting both of his hands rest on his hips, he looked at the job he did, and also allowed the other two to get ready for what was to come for them -although he wasn't entirely done with Byeongho yet.

✸ ✸ ✸

His head was resting against the backrest of his car, looking at the eight missing calls from Namjoon and the several texts he sent. By the tone of them, it was pretty obvious the other six members were also aware of the deal he made to get Y/n out of there. Although he didn't really care until he read the last text.

"Or you get rid of her, or I will".

Did that mean that not only he had to protect her from the Choi family, but also from his own family?

When he entered his home, he found nothing but silence, which didn't really surprise him, but had him on a high alert state. Especially because there were no signs of Y/n.

In any other circumstance, he'd have remained calm over it. But after he messed with some of Choi's people, and after that text Namjoon sent, he felt like he wouldn't be able to calm down, not even in his place.

Taking off his shoes and throwing them somewhere in the entrance, Jungkook raced upstairs, entering her room to find nothing. But he did see a thin line of light coming from her bathroom, and a few complaints that got his attention. She was in front of the shower screen, trying to get her t-shirt off but always letting it fall back to where it was.

Maybe he should've stayed where he was, or maybe he should've left, but he stepped inside instead, finding a surprised Y/n looking at him with wide eyes.

—Let me help you out.

But she shook her head, assuring him everything was okay and she preferred to do it by herself, all that while trying to cover her torso as much as possible.

—Y/n —he used the same tone he did that morning, warning her to stop.

Her arms fell to the side, and Jungkook was finally able to help her take off the oversized t-shirt carefully. He helped her raise her right arm, getting it and her head out of the fabric, while he just had to slide the t-shirt down her injured arm.

Something inside of him twitched when he saw all the dark bruises on her ribs. He had been aware of them when he helped her change her clothes while she was still unconscious. But anger got the best of him when he took off her bra, that he didn't feel like taking off the past night, only to find scarred lineal wounds all over his initials on her chest.

His thumb traced every line, feeling the crusty surface on his fingerprint. He thought that his jaw would break at any point by the way he was clenching it.

—Who did this?

—Sanhyuk —she whispered.

He didn't know when or how, but he for sure knew, and promised, he'd kill Sanhyuk in the worst way he could think of. Everything he did that evening would be a child play compared to it.

The screams of pain she must've let out, the pain she must've gone through were all in his head while his eyes stayed on that destroyed tattoo. Jungkook doubted he'd ever be able to think straight from that moment and on. At least until something warm covered his cheek, her thumb trying to get rid of one of the several blood dots that were on his face, neck, and t-shirt.

—It's not mine —he let her know.

—I know that —she scoffed.

He took off the last piece of fabric remaining in her body, before he rolled his sleeves up his elbows and guided her inside the shower.

Something in her switched. She didn't know if it was the way he was taking care of her, the feeling of his hands on her skin as he washed her up, or the thought that all that blood belonged to the men she pointed earlier in the morning because he wanted to punish anyone who hurted her. She didn't know.

Her head just moved on its own while looking for his lips, giving them a short peck that would only trigger something else. Jungkook was trying his best to control his possessive side when he saw that wound, but he wasn't able to control himself as soon as her lips linked with his. Cupping her cheeks, he pulled her in for a deeper kiss, while Y/n's hands remained on the sides of his waist, holding onto the blue shirt before she tried to pull him closer. Soon he was in the shower as well, feeling all his clothes getting drenched, but only caring about the way her lips sucked into his with such need.

His hands were all over her: tracing the curves in her body, pressing his palm on her belly, cupping her breasts in his hands... and she was completely gone for it. She gasped when she felt the cold wall get in contact with her back, arching it as the first reaction. His lips felt warm and soft when they enclosed around her hard nipple, twirling his tongue in circles.

Not able to raise one of her arms higher, she supported herself on his biceps, pressing her fingers on the wet shirt that allowed her to see his arm filled with tattoos through it. Too concentrated on not falling to be aware of Jungkook's hand approaching her core until she felt two of his fingers digging through her wet slit.

His mouth left her as his fingers rubbed in slow circles on her clit, wanting to concentrate on her expressions. He'd die to have her lips parted the way they were while she tried her best at keeping her eyes open for him.

—Jung... —she moaned— Jungkook —her head fell back from pleasure.

—How does it feel?

—So good —her fingers tightened on the drenched fabric—. I need you.

—I got you, doll.

Right after whispering those words, she whined at the loss of his touch, just to see him getting his clothes off as fast as he was able to. He was sure he needed her as bad as she needed him. A groan made its way through his throat when her fingers wrapped around his growing bulge, pumping him slowly and stopping only to rub his tip with her thumb. She felt it getting thicker with every move she made, and her pussy throb at the feeling of his pulse against her palm whenever she tightened her grip to tease him.

Jungkook linked their lips together again, although it wasn't for long. With no previous warning, he lifted her body. Both of her legs hung on his right arm, while the left one kept her high enough by her back. He just didn't want her arm to hurt more, and he checked it to find it resting on her stomach.

Her lips on his jaw felt like hot iron, while the way her fingers played with the hairs on his nape made shiverings run all over his body. It was a dangerous combination.

He laid her carefully on her bed, finding her resting the weight of her body on one of the elbows so she'd be able to check every single one of his movements. At least until he forced her to close her eyes during a kiss that would've probably made her fall on her back if she had been standing.

At the same time she bit on his lower lip teasingly, he sinked balls deep inside of her, instantly making her part her lips with a barely audible moan. Jungkook waited for her to get used to his size, he thought that it could take her a bit since they had been away from each other for too long, but her hips moving against him were the bratty response she didn't verbalize.

He moved slowly at first, enjoying the way her walls squeezed every inch of his cock as if it had been made for it. His body was fully covering her, while his lips were everywhere on her face and neck, feeling in heaven every time a moan reached his ears from that close. Y/n wrapped her legs tight around him, while her fingers traveled the width of his back, as if she didn't want him to move any further from that.

—You're mine, doll —he reminded her—. No one will ever, ever, lay a hand on you, or will give you a bad look without a consequence following it.

Despite his words sounding harsh, and his hands grabbing her jaw to force her eyes on his, she was able to see something in his dark eyes that she hadn't seen before. One of his hands reeked of possessiveness, while the other was gentle and kept her in place. It was the way he wanted to let her know she was his, and that also meant he would always protect her.

—I'm yours —she finally said, closing her eyes when Jungkook lifted her hips a bit with his left hand.

—Am I the only one? —he wanted to know in between gasps.

—You're the only one.

The speed of his hips increased after the comment, and the moan that followed after, he started to move frantically against her as soon as he heard those magic words.

He swore he would be able to stay attached to her forever if he had to, he wanted that moment to last forever, only having to worry and focus on her pleasure.

Some loud sounds, that it took him no longer than a few seconds to identify as gunshots changed his priorities in a blink of an eye. Suddenly only caring about covering her body with his to protect her from anything that was happening, until he made them both roll on the bed and fall on the side of it that was on the opposite side from the door.

Taglist: @kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc@amy2006jones @allamericanuniverse @00frenchfries00 @massivelyfullenthusiast

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #mafia!au #The Only One #reader insert #armpirate

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rosanna-writer · 5 months

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we said hello and your eyes look like coming home (17/?)

Summary: A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches. Warnings: dubious consent, canon-typical sexual violence, canon-typical violence Rating: Explicit Chapter Word Count: ~6k

It's brief (one sentence each), but please note this chapter contains mentions of suicide and animal slaughter.

The last line of dialogue is lifted directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.

Read on AO3 or you can find the seventeenth chapter below the readmore.

The townhouse was empty when I got back. At the realization I was alone, I reached for my thigh instinctively, where my hunting knife would be if I still carried one. Perhaps I should have still carried one.

My heart leapt to my throat at the sight of a note sitting out for me, even though I recognized Rhys's handwriting now. I forced myself to breathe before my mind spiraled down a path of panic about kidnappers and attackers.

I was safe. No one could winnow in besides Rhys and Mor. No one would touch me here. I was safe.

Even so, my fingers shook as I picked up the note to read. It was still slow going, but at least this time, I recognized every word, though not always on the first try.

Feyre darling,

I'm at the library and will be back this evening.

The contraceptive tea is still where you left it, but if it gives you peace of mind, you should know that the tonic I was taking Under the Mountain won't wear off for another week.

With all my love,

Rhys

I stood there for a long moment and waited for the sensation of the bottom dropping out of my stomach to pass. Rhys could have told me all of this before he left or said it through the bond—but he'd written a note instead, even though he knew reading still wasn't easy for me.

Once my head cleared of panic, I understood. His side of the bond had been quiet, and I'd assumed there just hadn't been anything to say or any strong emotions he was feeling. But his shields were up and reinforced. Either Amarantha had forced him to take the tonic or he'd been doing it without her knowledge, and…that was something he was only telling me because it might give me some measure of reassurance. And even then, he'd only managed it because he'd insulated himself from my reaction first.

Rhys knew I wouldn't be upset and that none of this was his fault—or at least, I hoped he did—but apparently that didn't stop him from feeling ashamed anyway.

Something about the note made my fingers twitch for a pen. There wasn't one, probably because he didn't want a reply, and I assumed the paper wasn't enchanted to send one anyway. But still, I had the urge to flip the paper over and sketch something beautiful, as if that could beat back the ugliness that had necessitated the contraceptive tonic in the first place.

Even though I knew where the pens were, I didn't go find one. I wasn't entirely sure I could make something beautiful anymore.

I tugged a blanket off the sofa and pulled it around my shoulders instead. The townhouse was warm, but I'd never once felt too hot Under the Mountain. The extra layers and soft blanket against the exposed skin of my arms seemed to ground me, to remind me that I was in the Night Court and not there.

I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but I'd spent half the night on the bathroom floor, shaking like a leaf while Rhys held me. Even though it was barely mid-afternoon, once my heart stopped racing, I drifted off and didn't wake until Rhys winnowed in as the sun began to set. And somehow, even though I was worried and groggy, I found myself appreciating the way his blue-black hair shone in the golden hour light.

Cauldron, the mating bond was relentless.

Rhys didn't move from the the spot where he'd winnowed, right in the center of the living room. He was watching me carefully, and as I sat up, I glanced over him and was relieved he looked fine. Even if he wasn't getting closer to me.

After a moment, he said, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I said.

I wasn't quite sure what he wanted, so I moved to one side of the sofa and extended my arm in a wordless invitation to share the blanket. To my immense relief, he hid his wings and joined me, snaking an arm around my waist as I tucked my legs under me and curled up against him. We loosed a breath at the same time.

A talon rapped politely against my shields, and I dropped them for him. The beast he usually kept hidden, all wings and feathers and talons and elongated canines, entered the antechamber of my mind. Then it turned around once and lay down, like a dog that had come in from the cold to curl up in front of the hearth. I closed my eyes and let my head fall against his chest.

His breath tickled my ear, making me shiver as he scented me, even with the glamour still in place."You smell like safety," he murmured, "and your mind is a more peaceful place than mine has been lately."

If I hadn't felt the change in both of us just now, I would have pointed out that was a patently ridiculous thing to say when I was a human who could barely manage to sleep through the night, let alone protect myself. But maybe…I was safe to admit the worst to.

And maybe even if I had the heightened senses of a faerie, I couldn't distinguish safety from danger anyway, smell or otherwise. Tamlin had certainly exploited that.

I couldn't hold back a small noise of protest as Rhys pulled away for a moment, nearly taking the entire blanket with him, then relaxed again when I felt his fingers in my hair. My braid had come loose in my sleep. Once he'd slipped the tie off the end, Rhys started gingerly untangling the strands.

Perhaps it was reckless to dive straight into it, but we needed to talk, so I said, "Was this morning—"

"This morning was everything," he said, answering the question before I could finish asking, "but I didn't anticipate how it would feel to go straight from that to an in-depth discussion with the healer regarding how weak my wings were. I needed time. The library helped."

"And now?" I would have turned my head to look at him if that wouldn't have pulled roughly on my hair.

"I'll be fine." It wasn't harsh or unkind, but there was a distinct note of finality there. A bit more softly, he added, "And for you, was—"

"I want more mornings like that." It was all that needed to be said.

He let the lock of my hair fall from his hand, and I turned my head to kiss his cheek before he carded his fingers back through my hair again. This close, I caught sight of a bite mark I'd left, peeking out from under his collar. A mark like that, shaped like my mouth and visible to anyone who got close…it filled me with a sense of feral pride. Rhys looked good wearing it.

The beast that had been resting inside my mind stirred. And preened.

"There's no need to wait until morning if you want more," Rhys said, suddenly all dark promise.

But as much I ached to go down that road, there were questions I wouldn't get to if we did. "What did the healer say?" I asked, a little too quickly, even as I pressed myself closer.

Rhys explained—apparently, the process wouldn't be too different from when his wings had been injured during the War. The best method would be to winnow up high and drop back down slowly to the ground and do the same with repeated takeoffs, all while carrying increasingly heavy weights. Progress might be slow, but steady if he kept at it.

An idea stuck me. "How heavy of a weight would you use?"

"It depends," Rhys said slowly, suspicion creeping into his voice. He pulled away to study my face, and I clamped my hand back down on the blanket to keep it around my shoulders.

"I don't weigh very much. Might be more fun than using a sack of potatoes or whatever you were thinking of instead," I said, smiling.

He didn't smile back. "You could get hurt if I'm not careful."

"Hell will freeze over long before I ever get hurt while you're around."

I raised my brows, daring him to argue—I was right, and we both knew it. He shook his head and sighed. "You don't have to be so eager to test that theory."

"It's a certainty, not a theory," I said, pulling him close again. I took advantage of his wings being hidden, resting my chest against his broad, muscled back and my chin on his shoulder.

The wings, the flying…I knew what it meant to him. And maybe selfishly, I wanted him to hold me tight against him while we were high above the ground, just for the joy of being in the air. Cassian and Azriel might have flown me to the House of Wind, but that would never be the same.

Rhys told me about the sleeping draught next; the healer had said to halve the dose for a human if I took it, too. Apparently it was strong enough that we'd sleep through damn near anything—even each other's nightmares. It took some prodding, but we agreed to take it together or not at all, lest someone be left to face bad dreams and vomiting alone.

Over the next few days, things began to feel…a bit more settled. As much as I hated how fuzzy my head felt on mornings after taking the sleeping draught, I couldn't deny that the rest helped. And though I wasn't quite ready to see them yet, Azriel reported that my family was still safe and cared for. I went to dinner with Mor and managed to ignore the obvious stares in my direction and awed whispers behind my back. Even reading lessons had become less of a slog, full of chitchat about books as Evelyn found ones that would be an appropriate challenge—she'd even collected a few picture-filled volumes on art that I spent an afternoon flipping through.

Sex helped, too. There were far worse things I could have thrown myself into with singleminded focus than making Rhys climax, and I think he needed to hear someone tell him his pleasure mattered and insist he sit back and enjoy it. He responded in kind of course, and somehow his hands and mouth quieted the restlessness that plagued me, enough to stop feeling on the lookout for another threat, at least for a while.

We were coping. And it was strange, but not unpleasant, to find myself slipping into a life I'd ached for but hadn't really known I'd wanted until a few weeks ago.

Illyria, however, was becoming a problem. And so was the Hewn City. I hardly saw much of Cassian; Azriel took over training me so his brother could stay in Windhaven. Mor was more than capable of overseeing the Court of Nightmares herself, but it wasn't enough to completely stave off the question of why the High Lord hadn't shown his face since returning home.

And it all came to a head during the next meeting of the Inner Circle.

The six of us had gathered in a meeting room in the House of Wind. I'd trained with the Illyrians beforehand—Cassian had wanted to see my progress—and though I was still flushed and sweaty from exertion, the leathers and sword strapped to Rhys's back were the only signs he'd been sparring. Perfect and polished as always. If he weren't mine, I would have hated him for it.

But there was work to be done, so I forced myself not to stare. Cassian spoke first, and the picture he painted was bleak—not only rampant disregard of laws Rhys had put into place centuries ago, but rogue war-bands. The groups that had been loyal to Amarantha had splintered, and the situation was delicate and unpredictable.

"I won't have any opportunists in Hybern or the Continent catching us flat-footed," Rhys said, slipping into that clipped tone he only used when he was working. "Take whatever measures are necessary to bring the army back in line. You have my full support, whatever it takes."

To his credit, Cassian didn't hesitate as he said, "Does full support mean I can call you in to make an appearance if needed?" Not a challenge, but it put an unpleasant truth out in the open.

I knew what he meant, and though Azriel's grimace only lasted a moment, that was enough to tell me that he did, too. Rhys's wings were still an issue. If he arrived in Illyria unable to fly properly and word got out, he might only make more of a mess. It didn't matter why his wings were so weak—the Illyrians would see it as shameful regardless.

"It's vital to the security of the Night Court. When I said whatever it takes, I meant it," Rhys said, his voice going colder. Darkness made the faelights flicker for a moment.

The tension that had been simmering between them was back. There was a forced lightness to Mor's voice as she said, "You should make an appearance in the Hewn City first, anyway. They're under control, but it would do some good to flex your muscles before they start getting ideas."

It made sense—I'd heard Mor's updates to Rhys, her concern about Keir becoming too bold without Amarantha making him cower—and releasing the damper on Rhys's power to make a point was simple enough. Or it would be, if that didn't mean sending him straight to the place that Amarantha had modeled her court after. If it were me, I wouldn't be ready yet.

The least I could do was make sure he wouldn't be facing it alone.

"I'll go with you," I said, the words out of my mouth before I'd thought them through. "It might be easier on you with me there."

I hadn't been to the Hewn City, but I knew enough to understand what sort of role I'd have to play there. If it helped Rhys, I'd do it without hesitation. It might even feel good, just to have something to do that made me feel useful. Even though it was underground, I'd manage.

"No," Rhys said, and the word came out as something that wasn't quite an order but sounded uncomfortably close.

He'd never spoken to me like that before. I hated it.

His regret crossed the bond immediately, but that didn't matter. I knew it wasn't the same, not even close, but the harshness in his voice reminded me just a bit of how Tamlin had sounded when I'd overheard him speaking with Lucien, an inkling of how much was really being hidden to manipulate me in Spring. And that was enough to set my temper ablaze.

"What's in the Hewn City that you don't want me to see?" I snapped. Aloud, so everyone could hear.

Rhys's voice was softer, almost pained, when he spoke again. I half-expected darkness to ripple off him, but he kept the leash on his power. "There's nothing in the Hewn City that you didn't already see Under the Mountain."

"Then why not bring me?" I said, just as a horrible thought dawned on me. He'd been so angry that I'd gone Under the Mountain. Before I knew what I was doing, the words were tumbling out. "Is this about keeping me in Velaris, like you did to the rest of the Inner Circle?"

Rhys flinched. And the air in the room seemed to go very, very still.

"For what it's worth, I'm not proud of that," he said, not looking at any of us, "but I can't bring myself to regret it, either. You're alive."

Cassian ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I know it wasn't an easy call to make. You chose the least shit option out of a bunch of shit choices."

"That still doesn't mean we had to like it," Azriel muttered darkly, tucking his wings in tight.

"No, we didn't," Mor agreed, shooting a warning look at Azriel before turning to Rhys, "and it's hard not to be resentful. We were trapped. But…we all know it's not your fault for having to make that decision, and I hope you know that, too."

Rhys closed his eyes, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took in a breath and let it out. He started to say something, but Amren cut him off. "And Velaris is by far the most pleasant of all the places I've been confined. Let's move on," she said briskly.

I didn't want to think about what other places she could possibly have been imprisoned. Or how many there had been. But somehow, Amren of all people had cut through the tension in the room. Mor caught my eye, hiding a smile behind the back of her hand.

"I'd put that on tourism brochures if Velaris had any," Rhys said drily, then turned his attention back to me. "After sending Mor in my stead for so long, I'll get the point across most clearly if I go alone, Feyre. It isn't dangerous. But with the attention the Cursebreaker will draw…you'll be most effective as an ace up our sleeve for now. Is that alright with you?"

I considered that. It seemed like an honest question, not just something intended to mollify me enough to move on. And the word effective clanged in my head like a bell. It took a certain measure of confidence in someone to make a calculation like that. I felt…a little less useless.

"That's fine," I said, giving a gentle tug on the bond to indicate all was well. Rhys answered with a feather-light brush of his fingers against mine under the table.

The rest of the meeting was long, if uneventful. I followed more of it than before—while he'd been catching up on the state of the Night Court, Rhys had answered every single one of my questions about it. There were decisions to be made about resuming trade agreements that had been in place before Amarantha and intelligence to be gathered about the extent of the damage in other courts. Our agenda that day was full.

I wasn't used to sitting still for so long, and it seemed like an eternity had passed by the time Cassian finally flew me down to the street. He took off for Illyria just as Rhys winnowed next to me, shifting out of his leathers and into his usual black jacket and pants.

"Take a walk with me?" he said, offering his arm. I hesitated, not quite sure if he merely did just want to walk with me, or if this was about what had happened earlier. Catching the look on my face, he added,"It's a beautiful day, and it would be a shame to let that go to waste."

That, at least, was the truth. Though it was the middle of summer, the Night Court was too far north to get uncomfortably hot. I suspected that wasn't everything—it might also have been one of those days he needed to feel the breeze on his face, but there was no use in pointing that out.

Instead, I just nodded my agreement and took his arm. My hand felt snug and comfortable in the crook of his elbow, but I was shameless about twisting it to the side so I could feel the hard muscle of his bicep through his shirt. Rhys smirked, curling a wing around me in a gesture I was beginning to suspect looked equally as possessive as my fingers around his arm.

"You know the city best. Lead the way," I said.

We walked in companionable silence towards the Sidra. If we'd wanted to, we probably could have stayed quiet the entire evening without it feeling awkward or uncomfortable. But…I wanted to clear the air anyway. After a little while, I added, "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."

"They were valid questions that you had every right to ask," he said evenly. I couldn't quite read his face—Rhys seemed unbothered, but I didn't know how to tell if he was pretending or not.

"I could have phrased them better."

Rhys shrugged. "It's better than if you hadn't said anything at all. You should question me, call me out. And if being comfortable doing that means you're a bit harsh about it on occasion….well, it's not as if I haven't survived worse."

He pulled gently on the bond again, and I took that to mean there truly had been no harm done. It made me feel oddly reassured, as if I'd pushed on something that looked delicate and found it to be much sturdier than I'd thought.

We followed a path along the Sidra, and on a day like this, we were far from the only ones out and about. It seemed silly not to have realized it, considering he'd been High Lord for centuries, but everyone in Velaris seemed to know Rhys. People smiled warmly and nodded at him, a few even greeting him by name and taking his hand to welcome him back. Even after fifty years away, he knew them too, sounding earnest when he asked about how their families were faring.

It still came as a shock that they knew who I was, too.

The first time a faerie, one with horns and horizontal pupils like a goat's, called me Cursebreaker and thanked me for challenging Amarantha, I'd nearly blurted out then and there that anyone with a mate would have done the same thing. Instead, I stammered my way through my reply about how it was good to see Rhys home, which wasn't even a lie.

The people of Velaris were respectful, genuinely warm but never attempting to drag him into a long conversation. For me, the attention was still strange. Rhys must have been handling it since birth, but I'd spent so much of my life alone in the woods, doing my best to blend in with the trees as I hunted.

We were arm in arm, but still in my fighting leathers at his side….I don't think I seemed much like an emissary. And certainly not like a lady, either.

If anything, I looked like Rhys's knight.

But it was…nice, to just walk and be together like this. Velaris was beautiful, rows and rows of pretty, well-kept townhouses in bright colors and the flowers along the river in full bloom for the summer. Peaceful and untouched—and protected with the utmost ruthlessness.

I was so caught up in drinking it in—and in truth, watching Rhys drink it in—that it was a while before I realized we were still walking away from the townhouse. Not that I minded, but I still asked, "Are we going anywhere in particular?"

"Yes. I have something to show you," he said, violet eyes bright.

"What is it?"

"My favorite view in the city."

I'd half-expected him to answer that it was a surprise or with some other teasing, flirting response. But maybe by then he knew it was important to me that my questions didn't go unanswered.

When the sun had nearly set, we stopped at one of the benches that lined the path, facing the river. It didn't seem different from any of the other places we'd passed, save a row of low buildings right on the riverbank across from us. Rhys sat, letting his wings hang over the back of the bench, and I followed suit.

We were in public, so I left a careful few inches of distance between us. I ached to be closer, but I wasn't sure it would be welcome out here. "Can I—"

"I was just going to tell you that you were too far away."

I couldn't press myself to his side fast enough. As Rhys wrapped an arm around my waist, the bond seemed to uncoil in my chest, and I was struck again by that sense of rightness, the feeling that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I doubted I'd ever get used to it—not just the mating bond and all the instincts and urges that accompanied it, but being wanted like this.

But that was too much to talk about on what was proving to be something close to a normal evening. I just said, "Why is it your favorite?"

"You'll see in a few minutes, once night falls properly," he said softly, "but it's not just that. Before Amarantha, nearly everyone in Velaris came to watch the boat races down the Sidra on midsummer. It's been a tradition since my ancestors founded the city, and this is where the races always finished."

"Did you…row?" I wasn't entirely sure if faerie boat races were anything like human ones, though I was fairly certain the line of buildings across from us were boathouses.

"Cauldron, no. Training in Illyria was exhausting enough. This is where I came to drink and cheer on my sister."

I had no idea what to say to the mix of quiet sorrow and warm nostalgia in his voice. Telling him I was sorry seemed insufficient. But…I could practically feel the weight of whatever was on his mind pressing down on us both.

"I'll trade you a thought for a thought," I said after a long moment. "Tell me one thing on your mind, and I'll do the same for you."

I half-expected Rhys to balk, or at least, to be irritated with my prying. Perhaps I'd pushed too hard. But he played along.

"The boathouse on the end was green last time I saw it. But at some point in the last fifty years, it was repainted blue, and now I'm thinking about how strange it is to notice all the ways Velaris is different now. Everything is different now, really."

As I watched the last rays of the setting sun dance on the water, I felt Rhys's gaze slide towards me. I took a moment to consider my words. "I'm thinking about how every summer I used to hunt and hunt while the game was plentiful. If I didn't do enough then, we'd starve during the winter. And now it's summer again, and I feel like I need to find a way to hoard days like this because nothing ever stays easy."

"For what it's worth, I'm not stupid enough to think I can pacify you with pretty lies about how you have nothing to worry about ever again."

I snorted. "Have I mentioned how much I love your pragmatism?" It was true, though. His willingness to make difficult choices, no matter how unpleasant, was one reason I'd choose Rhys to be my partner in everything.

Rhys leaned in close, his nose brushing my temple. "Was that an attempt at pouring honey in my ear, Feyre darling?" he purred.

"With you? I don't need to bother."

He nipped at my earlobe, drawing a surprised laugh from me. "Cruel, beautiful thing."

The first few stars appeared in the sky, and suddenly I understood why this was Rhys's favorite view in city. Lines of lights flickered on outside the boathouses, so many that that the buildings themselves seemed to be fashioned out of stars. The sky and the city were reflected on the surface of the Sidra, and in the distance, the colorful buildings of the Rainbow glowed warm, bright, and inviting.

City of Starlight, indeed.

But the sight of it was more than just beautiful. Something about the stars and the city lights on the water brought a buried memory rushing back. I almost couldn't believe I'd forgotten.

"Rhys," I hissed, sitting up straight. My hand curled tightly around his arm.

"Feyre?" he said, suddenly all concern. "Are you—"

"I've seen this view before. In a dream. This exact view. The boathouse on the end was blue, just like it is now."

I wrenched my gaze away from the boathouses to find Rhys staring at me with naked shock. "You were dreaming of Velaris?"

"It happened the day I'd first killed a rabbit. I was eleven. We'd been starving, and the Mother knows where else we would have gotten dinner from if I hadn't done it. But I— I'd never killed something before, and even though it was an animal, I lost a piece of myself that day. I'd cried and cried, and whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was the blood from its throat leaking onto my hands. It took a long time to fall asleep that night, but when I finally did…this is the view I saw in my dreams. And I felt at peace with what I'd done."

Rhys's eyes didn't leave my face, but something in his expression shifted. I could see the wheels turning in his head. "If you were eleven," he said slowly, "then I wouldn't have known about you yet. I didn't start having dreams of you until three years ago. And if you saw the boathouse as blue…then we can be certain I didn't send that image of Velaris down the bond, even unwittingly."

"Then where did it come from?"

"You have a connection to the Night Court's magic, and it's clearly protective of you. A dream like that, on what must have been the worst day of your life….perhaps Velaris kept you from breaking, too."

If Rhys hadn't needed to protect this city and the people it, he would have killed himself Under the Mountain, probably long before I was born. He'd never said as much, but I knew. And perhaps that was the real magic of Velaris—not the wards shielding it, but the magic of art and dreams and peace. If that had sustained my mate for decade after lonely, hopeless decade, then…perhaps after one of my darkest days, Velaris had reached for me as I slept.

After all, it was called the Court of Dreams for a reason.

We watched the lights on the water for a long time, together but both lost in thought. But eventually, my inability to sit still reared its head, and we found ourselves walking through the city again, talking quietly about the places we passed.

Rhys was trying to be subtle about it, but I could tell he was attempting to nudge me towards the Rainbow. I understood; he knew what painting meant to me, and he'd had probably looked forward to showing me the artists' quarter. Last time I'd been in a gallery, though, I'd been falling for Tamlin's manipulations, and now that I knew that…I wasn't sure how I'd react next time I entered one. If I panicked or ran like a coward, I didn't want Rhys to see.

I certainly wasn't brave enough to admit that, either. Instead, I murmured something about it being time to start heading back, and when the worry didn't quite leave Rhys's face, I changed the subject. "Why is your house on the other side of the river anyway?"

But it must have been the wrong thing to say because Rhys suddenly went still. "You don't feel at home here," he said, so softly I almost didn't hear it. Even if I hadn't caught the words, the hurt in his voice would have been unmistakable.

That was ridiculous—I'd never felt such a sense of belonging in my life. "Of course I feel at home here."

"You called the townhouse mine just now. Not ours."

"It's where I live, and I'm comfortable there, but…it's still yours. I don't feel unwelcome, but there's no point in pretending you wouldn't be upset if I just started redecorating or painting all over the walls." That first morning after we'd gotten back, he'd said it was mine too, but in truth, I'd assumed that was just an empty platitude.

Rhys took a step towards me, and the intensity of the way he was looking at me was so strong I wasn't sure I was breathing. "Everything that's mine is shared with you. Because you're my"—a tug on the bond to avoid saying the word aloud where there was a chance of being overheard—"and because I love you. Even if that weren't true, the first dream I had of you was your hand painting flowers on a table. It meant more than I can say, and as far as I'm concerned, you should paint any surface in this world you wish."

"I love you, too." The only words I could manage in the face of…everything.

Then before I knew it, Rhys was kissing me in the middle of the sidewalk. For a moment, all the thoughts flew from my mind, and I looped an arm around his waist to press him against me. But before he had a chance to sweep his tongue into my mouth in front of any passersby, I stepped back to catch my breath.

"What you said before, about the townhouse being mine, too…I thought you were just being nice to spare my feelings," I said.

Rhys huffed a bitter laugh. "I've been accused of a great many things over the centuries, but mincing words to be nice isn't one of them."

I'd take it over being lied to day in and day out, I supposed.

He slid his hands into his pockets and tipped his head to the side. The wind ruffled his hair, and for a moment, that instinctive irrational jealousy struck again—I didn't even want the wind touching his hair instead of me. It nearly distracted me enough to miss the too-casual way he was studying me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

He flashed me another one of those feline smiles—the smirking, put-together High Lord was back. "I was just thinking that if I'm not mistaken, there's a set of half-opened paints in storage. Amren attempted to learn one summer, got bored, and gave up. No one will take an open can as a donation, and she's certainly not going to use them. It would be a shame to let them go to waste."

My mate knew me too well. Even though I could tell what he was doing, it was working—I'd struggle to accept a gift, but I hated waste. Just the thought of an empty canvas made my chest tighten uncomfortably, but if it meant something to Rhys, I could manage a simple, repetitive design of flowers on the edge of a table. I'd done far more dangerous, difficult things for him.

"What's your favorite flower?" I said with a sigh.

"Snowdrops," he said without having to think about it. "There isn't much else about winter in Illyria that's pretty, and the blue ones only grow in the Night Court. They're the same color as your eyes."

Elain had planted snowdrop bulbs one fall, and when I'm asked her about it, she'd said that in the language of flowers, they meant hope. I'd thought it seemed pointless then. Now, I wasn't quite sure.

Rhys said something about being back with the paints, kissed my cheek, and winnowed away. As I stood there for a moment alone, I realized…he'd called my eyes pretty. I willed myself to stop blushing so furiously by the time he got back.

Not long after that, we made it back home, and I sat on kitchen floor, mixing Amren's half-used paint while Rhys watched. He hadn't told me where he'd gone to get them, but he'd come back smelling faintly of pine.

It took a few tries to mix the blue to match the shade in the image Rhys sent down the bond, a blue flower pushing its way through a heavy snowbank, on a mountain that must have been somewhere in Illyria. And perhaps finding the right color would have gone faster if he hadn't been leaning in to kiss me so often.

When I began to form the first petal on the edge of the table, the feeling of a wound healing over was so acute that I nearly dropped the paintbrush.

I was safe in the Night Court. I was painting. A mate I loved was sitting beside me. We were clawing back, slowly but surely, the sense of security that had been ripped away when Rhys had been trapped Under the Mountain and I'd been dragged across the Wall.

I painted a few more petals and managed to finish the first flower before the tears pricking at my eyes made me stop. Rhys kissed them away gently. And that was all I needed to dip the brush back into the paint and keep going.

There was a line of flowers extending along one side of the table when something made Rhys stand up. The movement was too fast for me to follow—one moment, he'd been sitting, then the next he was halfway across the room. I turned to see what it was and found that Mor had just winnowed into the kitchen.

I'd never seen her look so grave.

"It's too late to save anyone now," she said, "but there was an attack on a temple in Cesere. Almost every priestess slain, the trove looted."

#feysand #feyre archeron #we said hello and your eyes look like coming home #this chapter was a doozy but the magic of canned soup got me through it

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jimmys-zeppelin · 5 months

Text

moonbeam

ch. vi

table of contents

two weeks later

may 25, 1998

The air around her was stagnant and cold. A slew of women, young and old, waited quietly. Each one occupied themselves with reading a magazine, watching the muted television intently, or talking to one another. Sabrina, on the other hand, bounced her leg incessantly and bit down at the edge of her nail, just wishing the whole process could be over and done with.

On the television, This Morning was half covered by the captions, rendering the segment on whether or not new moms should formula-feed their babies unwatchable. The content couldn't have been shown at a more inappropriate time.

"Sabrina Qualley?" a soft voice from across the room called. Sabrina shot up, barely able to sling her bag over her shoulder before she was headed for a near sprint to the nurse.

Sabrina clutched her cross-body bag as she followed the nurse through the twists and turns of the Planned Parenthood clinic.

"Come in here, we're going to just take your weight and blood pressure," the nurse, whose name tag read Veda, said. She tapped her bright pink pen at the door of the room Sabrina was to go into.

"Even for just a meeting with Jenna?" Sabrina asked.

The nurse shrugged at her apologetically, "Formalities, dear. Everyone's got to have their vitals taken."

Understandable.

Then the nurse flipped through her chart, "Plus it's been a bit since your last visit for your—" she squinted further at the first page of Sabrina's chart. "Procedure...so, erm. We'll have to take those vitals today," there was a beat, "How have you been since then?"

"Normal," Sabrina shrugged. She felt the grotesque pit in her stomach sprout. This would absolutely not be the normal day she had wanted to have.

Sabrina stepped onto the scale, unable to comprehend the number as the nurse moved the weights around until they balanced for a moment. She caught the number as the nurse scribbled it down: 12 stone. She had had her shoes on, though, so Sabrina discounted two pounds from the amount.

"Now's the blood pressure. Just try to relax yourself. Think good thoughts."

A field of flourishing green entered Sabrina's mind as she closed her eyes. Warm sun engulfed her and the grass coaxed her to lay down and take a nice, relaxing nap. To be thousands of miles from the gloom and doom of England would be most welcome.

She snapped back into reality when the velcro was ripped apart. The nurse—Vanessa, was it?—removed her pink stethoscope and gave Sabrina a tight-lipped smile. "Normal."

"Great," Sabrina replied, sounding not nearly as excited as she expected herself to sound.

"Now," she started, taking hold of her pen and clicking it open. "Date of your last period?"

"May 15," Sabrina replied definitively.

"No irregularities after your procedure?"

She shook her head. She was surprised when February 15 came along and her cycle was as on time as ever.

"Last thing...We have your emergency contact listed as Natalie Pemberton, is that still correct?"

"Uhm," Sabrina hesitated, "No. I'd like to change it to my brother if that's alright." There was a small pang of hurt when she said the words.

"Okay, they can take his information at the desk when you're leaving," Veda closed Sabrina's file and stood up. "Jenna will be in shortly."

After the door closed gently behind her, Sabrina was left in the eerie quiet of the examination room. The room was cold—as was standard for seemingly every medical practice ever—and she felt the goosebumps trail up her arms before a shiver ran through her.

When she had been at the facility last, things were much different. Though they'd broken up on January first, Sabrina took an additional week to move out of the apartment she and Shaun had shared. In this meantime she'd gone to get rid of the lock he had tried to keep on her with a misused condom.

Natalie had been there to pick her up afterwards and the two went back to her place in order for Sabrina to recover peacefully.

She never felt more alone than she had in the past four months.

The light knock at the door drew Sabrina away from her thoughts and triggered her falsified smile. Jenna came in sporting some new highlights that did not suit her. Sabrina said nothing, of course. Though she couldn't help but take notice.

"Sabrina! Glad to see you back. How've you been?"

"Much better, Jenna. Thank you."

"That's good to hear," she flipped through Sabrina's chart, "Seems like you've put on some weight. That's also good. Weight gain is healthy and normal after all that you've gone through."

"Yeah, I've been trying to save money so my diet's not the best at the moment..."

"That's okay. You can still get it back on track. Fruits, vegetables, lots of water...You know, the regulars of a healthy diet."

"Right," Sabrina answered. Jenna began jotting down a few notes and rifled through a few more pages. The sprouting pit in her stomach was a full-grown stem now. "I got a call—" she started.

"Are the new address and phone number working out for you?" Jenna spoke over her inadvertently, not hearing what she had started to say.

"Yes, very much so. Honestly the biggest problem is my mum. I still haven't told her what happened and she's desperate to get me back with my ex. She actually set up a dinner last Sunday with him to try and get us back together, but I didn't go."

"Oh, that's not good. Do you plan to tell her anytime soon?"

"Not really. She's just of that old-fashioned mindset and I really don't want her to have something else to nag me about."

"And how's your relationship with your mum?"

"It's good. I guess I seem like I harbor negative feelings about her, but I don't. Not really. She's great, I love her, but sometimes she just...knows how to get under my skin. And unfortunately there's a lot there to pick apart."

"Got it..." she jotted down a few more words. "Have you had anyone to talk to about everything that happened? Like a friend or a psychologist? Someone who you trust."

Sabrina squirmed where she sat. None of her answers aligned with what was supposed to happen in a situation like hers; what was normal. She shook her head. "Just my brother. But with him I just sort of told him what happened. He doesn't like to talk about it so much. But he looks out for me, in a sense."

"Is he older, younger?"

"Younger. He's," she paused, doing the math in her head, "Twenty-one now. Twenty-two next month. His name is Zach. Zachary."

"Sounds like a good little brother," Jenna chuckled.

"Usually," Sabrina smiled. The stem shrank a little in size. "Forced me to go to a Radiohead concert with him in March because his girlfriend couldn't go. It was actually good, though, so I can't complain."

"Music's always a good form of therapy. A lot of people don't realize that."

"It was pretty far from my norm. I usually listen to, like, Wham!, George Michael...I dabble in some Spice Girls," Sabrina laughed, looking away in embarrassment.

"Never give up on the good times, as they say," Jenna replied.

"Exactly," Sabrina said, amused. "My dad and Zach are both super into the old classics from the seventies and such—" she stopped herself. Jimmy crossed her mind then. He'd seemed to worm his way into her brain too often, creating a permanent little corner for himself in her mind. "I actually met someone—a famous musician at my job a couple months ago."

"Really?" Jenna asked, intrigued. "Who?"

"Jimmy Page. The guy from Led Zeppelin? The guitarist...He came in to get fitted for some suits recently. Very nice guy."

"Wow! I can't remember what he looks like, but I've certainly heard his name in the past. What was that like?"

"To me, it was a normal client experience because I don't know him that well, but the kid who's apprenticing under me was going absolutely mental about it," Sabrina laughed again. She tried with all her might to mask any sort of attraction she might have had to Jimmy, but just talking about him sprouted an unmoving smile on her face.

"Did you get to talk to him at all?"

"Yeah," she hesitated, "He was very flirty," her cheeks burned.

"Oh! Rock stars always seem to live in their youth, I guess. He hasn't settled down yet?"

Sabrina's bubble was briefly burst. Her smile fell.

"I'm not sure, actually. He told me he's got a daughter, but I don't....know anything about her," she picked a loose thread on her jeans.

"Ah," Jenna nodded, "Well I'm glad that's something you can, erm, hold onto. It's always fun meeting new people. But, anyway, do you have any specific questions for me?"

"Yeah, uhm. I got a call—a while back. The message said you were trying to get a follow-up on how I was doing. There's nothing more I need to…do is there?"

"Do...?"

"Like. Well, I've been doing much better since cutting off Shaun and I've slowly been detaching from all my connections to him…” Sabrina sighed, not wanting to sound insensitive, but with no way to better phrase her words. “I just want to put this all behind me.”

Jenna nodded. She seemed sympathetic. “I get it, Sabrina,” she paused for a beat and flipped through Sabrina’s chart. With a sigh, she looked back up at her. “Honestly? You seem like you’ve really progressed. Our services worked for you and everything seems to have improved significantly in terms of, you know, keeping away from the toxic environment you were in with your ex-boyfriend."

"Thank you," Sabrina said in a hushed tone, a straight smile stuck on her face.

"If you need anything else, please reach out to us. We're here to help you with whatever you may need. Are you in need of any kind of contraception? It would certainly help to avoid another situation like this."

"I will," she affirmed, “And no, I’m taking a breather from any sort of sex...for the time being.”

"I'll leave my business card and some other brochures at the front desk for you. Make sure to leave your brother's name and phone number with them as well, I see Veda scribbled something here about updating contact information."

Sabrina repeated herself and stood from the creaky examination table. "Thank you for everything, Jenna. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"Of course, Sabrina. It's what I'm here for. I hope everything goes well for you."

Sabrina left the office feeling worse than she had come in. Lonely in her own world, she had isolated herself so much that she hadn't recognized the person she became in the last six months.

After cutting off almost everyone who she had previously called a friend, Sabrina realized that she'd barely made any connections of her own at university. Stuck to Shaun's side for three of the four years, all of the people she'd made friends with were people Shaun had known for years.

In the five months since the end of the relationship, she was making new discoveries like excavators digging up Egyptian ruins did.

She needed a drink.

Even better, she needed a night out. Sabrina hadn't been to a club since ending things with Shaun. She wondered if she was getting a little too old for partying. But then again, everyone needed to party once in a while.

☽

The air on Sabrina's freshly shaven legs sent a chill of goosebumps up to her core. She shuddered as she and Conner waited outside of the club. In the past she'd frequented the place with Shaun and their friends. Now whenever she walked past it in the daytime, she grimaced in discomfort. And because Sabrina didn’t know of many other clubs in the general area that she enjoyed, she returned to Dreams for yet another night. Plus, she felt maybe she could reclaim the space for herself and create some good memories.

Conner, who was only a few inches taller than Sabrina on a good day, was level with her in her heels. The pink satin shoes took some getting used to again after being tossed into a closet for six months, and Sabrina's matching pink dress was another piece from the previous summer that squeezed her a little tighter than it had when she bought it.

A short bout of pregnancy followed by penny pinching for six months changed her body more than she'd expected. Honestly, though, Sabrina's body was the last thing on her mind in the flurry of months 1998 had become.

"Sab, come on, we're next," Conner said. Her heels clicked quickly against the pavement as she was pulled along by him. Her head spun upon entering the club, the lights, colors, and sounds were oddly foreign to her in the time she'd been away from Dreams. A mass of people were crowded on the dancefloor; bumping, grinding, and probably more. Sabrina became uneasy in an instant.

She and Conner claimed a standing table in the corner of the club, well separated from the hustle and bustle of the sweaty bodies moving along to the beat of Rhythm of the Night.

The pounding bass thumped throughout Sabrina's entire body, the slight discomfort that came with her unmoving figure was indicative of how unaccustomed she became to clubbing.

Sabrina nodded along to the song and watched the bright lights and lasers fly overhead and over the crowd. She could hardly remember the last time she was at Dreams. Probably sometime before Shaun's birthday in October....or was it on Shaun's birthday?

"Do you want a drink?" Conner shouted over the music.

Her eyes refocused on his face and she nodded idly. She felt that everyone could notice how tense she was, how much this dress was not the right size anymore, and most importantly, how her arms were starting to resemble chicken breasts exposed the way they were. Not looking in the mirror one final time before leaving her flat was beginning to give Sabrina more anxiety than she thought she had avoided.

Could everyone notice the flab of stomach poking out from her dress? Or did it just look magnified from the angle she stood at? A tightness formed at the base of Sabrina's throat and she suddenly felt the horrible need to cry.

"I want to go home," she whispered to herself in her loneliness. For a fleeting moment, her mind touched on Jimmy. She wondered if he even attended clubs. Did he still party hard? "Rock stars always seem to live in their youth" Jenna's words echoed in her mind. Maybe he did...Probably not.

Sabrina shook the thought of Jimmy from her mind. She tapped her foot against the cracked tile floor along to the end of Rhythm of the Night as a new song was crossfaded into the mix. Sabrina wasn't familiar with it, but it seemed to be good enough to jam to.

Once she had a few drinks in her, Sabrina figured, she'd be able to loosen up a bit and have some fun. She came for the alcohol, after all. Getting drunk alone in her flat was becoming more sad than it was fun.

Conner returned with their drinks, two lemon drop shots and two margaritas. Each drink was wildly different in color.

"Right," Conner started, handing Sabrina a bright yellow shot glass. "To a good night," he held up the glass to hers.

"To a good night," Sabrina repeated, clinking glasses with Conner as the two downed the shots in a matter of seconds. With a click of their tongues, the two relished in the lemony sweet taste of the shots and nodded at each other, affirming the goodness of the shots. "We'll need another one of those later on," she said.

"Agreed," he replied, and handed Sabrina her choice of margarita—a bright red one with a strawberry settled at the bottom of the glass. Conner's drink held a similar theme, though, bright green with a slice of lime at the bottom.

They both sipped their margaritas.Sabrina felt the sugar and alcohol begin to course through her system. She felt better already.

As time passed, Sabrina and Conner felt that they'd been in a vacuum, with each song playing and the alcohol in their systems increasing by the minute, the two were nearly drunk in a matter of hours.

Sabrina touched the sweat on the nape of her neck and knew she needed to sit for a while. Taking a seat at the bar, she undid the straps on her heels, the strings coming off her calves with a slow, almost painful peel.

"Sab," Conner said, approaching her smoothly, his hand touching her waist so as to capture her attention. The feeling sent a feeling she was not unfamiliar with through her body, but she dismissed it as fast as she could. "Gonna go for a smoke, I'll be back in a sec."

"Alright, no worries," She replied somewhat distantly. Reaching into her miniature purse, she pulled an equally small claw clip. The hair she'd styled so carefully was now drenched in humidity and sweat. However, she knew those were the signs of a good night.

"What can I get ya, dear?" the bartender asked, gum smacking between her teeth as she pulled a glass from a pile of ones that were on a drying rack.

"Just some water, please," Sabrina breathed, straightening out her back. She let her feet dangle on the stool, removing some of the pressure on them. She had certainly disconnected from her anxious thoughts about herself, her dress, her body, and everything in between. She was buzzed to say the least, but if she had a few more drinks, she knew she'd be able to get pissed the way she had wanted.

Sabrina gulped down the water, catching her breath and steadying her mind in the meantime. People milled about around her, squeezing beside her to ask for a martini here, a piña colada there, another round of tequila shots elsewhere. Her eyes drooped only slightly before she heard a familiar voice a few feet away.

"Oi, three Buds, please? Thanks."

The sound of the voice alone made Sabrina's stomach recoil. If she wasn't careful, all the alcohol she'd consumed that night would be all over the bar top in a matter of seconds. It was Shaun.

"Sabrina?" Another (familiar) voice exclaimed, Sabrina's eyes diverting in the direction of the voice. "Funny seeing you here, darling! How are you!" Sarah asked, approaching Sabrina around her side and hugging her with one arm around her back. As if a flip had been switched, she was suddenly aware of every atom of fat on her body and how unflattering her dress looked when seated the way she was. Sarah, of course, could never even dream of an ounce of fat on her body. Not even on her chest.

"Sarah! Yeah, I'm alright. Just came out for a dance and a drink, you know...how have you been?" she asked, doing her best at a feigned politeness.

"Good! Good. I'm with Shaun now—he’s here someplace," Sarah said, scoping out the place and locking eyes with Shaun where Sabrina had seen him. Sarah waved him over. "You here alone?"

"Shaun?" Sabrina found was the only thing she could say.

"Erm, yeah, we're—" she tried stalling the words, she was interrupted when Shaun made his way through the crowd to where she and Sarah were talking.

"Brina!" he said genteelly, grasping her shoulders forcefull the way he had always done when they were together. She hated it. "Sucks you couldn't come to dinner. 'S'alright, though, your mum said she'd reschedule for when you were available."

"Right," Sabrina nodded, "I was actually just on my way out now. Was having a glass of water before I called a taxi."

"Taxi's too expensive, B, come back with us, we'll split fares,” he said, patting Sarah on the arm. She gave him a smile that nearly resembled a grimace. Sabrina could only assume that having the three of them in a taxi was the last thing Sarah would have wanted.

"No, it's—" she stammered, her heart pounding so hard she thought the embarrassment would kill her before the heart attack could. "I'm fine, Shaun."

“I’m gonna go find Rachel,” Sarah said, a hand delicately touching Shaun’s arm as she started off. “Good to see you, Sab!” the blonde flashed a fake smile her way.

As they both watched Sarah walk off, Shaun leaned onto the bar top with a bony, pale elbow. He attempted to force some sort of eye contact between them. "I've missed you, Brina," he said, his long, thin fingers playing at hers. Sabrina pulled her hands into her lap.

"Mhm," Sabrina answered, only minding a glance back up at him. She tried her hardest to train her eyes onto her empty glass of water.

"Don't tell me you haven't missed me, too?" Shaun asked, his voice low.

"Can't say I have," she mumbled with a shake of her head. Her palms began to sweat.

Shaun chuckled humorlessly. Sabrina felt his eyes burning into the form of her dress. Before she could beg him not to say anything, he barged through anyway. "Haven't seen this one in a minute...surprised it still fits."

"Shaun—"

"Three Buds, mate," the bartender interrupted, sliding three bottles over beside Shaun.

"Alfie and Jacob are here, too, by the way," he said, collecting the bottles with a nod to the barkeep. "I know they'd love to come say hello before you go," he whispered before leaving Sabrina alone again at the bar.

Once Sabrina was sure Shaun was gone and wouldn't be returning, she peeled her shoes off her dirty feet, carrying the heels with her to the door. After a quick look around, she saw the cloud of smoke coming from beside the club.

"I'll be right back," Sabrina said to the bouncer, pointing to Conner where he stood taking drags of a cigarette.

"Five minutes, love," the bouncer answered.

Sabrina nodded, making a heady tread barefoot on the pavement. The minuscule rocks tore into her feet, but she figured it was better than walking on nearly formed blisters.

"My ex is here," Sabrina said, throwing her heels to the ground.

"What the fuck?" Conner answered, puffs of smoke following his every word. The stench of his cigarette would've ordinarily made her nose wrinkle up in disgust, but she instead chose to ignore it for the time being.

"This is fucking ridiculous. Him and his little...squad," Sabrina spat. The tip of Conner's cigarette glowed when he inhaled its toxins. The smell almost didn't seem to bother her then. "Give me that."

"You're not gonna—"

"Let me try it. See what the fucking hype is all about," Sabrina said, taking the cigarette, holding it between her fingers as if she'd been smoking forever. Monkey see, monkey do, right?

She took a drag, letting the smoke infiltrate her airways. When the itch in her throat came about, she exhaled, coughing when the stench of the tobacco hit her senses. The taste of burnt coffee blocked her airways and she continued to cough away the taste as much as she could. "God, I hate that," she frowned.

"I told you—" Conner started, though the look Sabrina threw him stopped the statement where he left it. "You wanna go home?" he asked.

Sabrina debated it, her heart rate having dropped since leaving the club. The smell of burnt hair was now replaced by the stench of cigarettes and whatever hung in the London air. She peered over at the bouncer, who met her eye and tapped at his watch. "Three minutes," he mouthed to her.

"No," she said, defiant.

"Alright. You wanna make him jealous?" Conner asked, taking a longer drag than he had taken previously.

She almost answered no to that question as well, but something willed her not to. She hadn't wanted to make Shaun jealous. She wanted to make him angry.

Sabrina and Conner had been able to have two more drinks before they spotted Shaun in the crowd again. If Sabrina spun her head too quickly, she'd be headed for the floor in the most embarrassing of moves.

"That's him isn't it?" Conner asked, his lips so close to her ear that it sent a shiver up her spine. She'd never noticed him in any particular way before, but when she pursed her lips, it was as if the alcohol was pushing her to do something her sober mind would not have thought of.

She looked to her left, spotting Sarah and Shaun together, their thin bodies pressed impossibly close against one another. They danced like no one was watching. Sabrina knew her inability to do such a thing had made Shaun all the more angry in their relationship.

Sarah held Shaun’s cheek in one hand, pulling his face to hers for a sloppy kiss. They smiled into each other, Shaun taking hold of her ass as they bopped along to the club music.

Sabrina had nearly drawn blood when she realized how hard she'd been biting her lip. "That's him..." she answered.

"Let's get closer, hm? So they notice us."

"I don't want them to come up to us," Sabrina said nervously.

"They won't," Conner assured her. "I'm gonna grab your waist, alright?"

Sabrina nodded, preparing her nerves for impact as Conner gently took her waist into his grasp. She tried to steady herself, relax herself, but she couldn't keep her eyes from watching each and every move Shaun and Sarah made.

Sorry if I'm too soft, she wanted to apologize. She couldn't stop thinking about the way she looked, the way she felt, the way other men thought of her. Did other men think of her as their type? Did Jimmy—?

"Hey," Conner interrupted her bitter monologue. His voice was as soft as the plushest blanket she'd ever felt. When her eyes met his, her nervousness melted away. He wiped the tear that had nearly fallen from her eye. "It'll be alright. Just trust me."

She nodded, taking hold of him as if it was second nature. Sabrina diverted her thoughts, allowing her and Conner's bodies to sway in joint, fluid motions, ignoring the world around them as much as they could.

Conner's hands moved up from her waist, his fingers touching at her cheek when Sabrina's eyes began to wander to her ex-boyfriend. Finally, Shaun had caught their gaze. Conner guided her cheek so she was facing him, and in one swift motion he planted his lips onto hers. The alcohol and taste of their mouths melded into one, Sabrina's lip gloss smudging in that very moment.

Lips parted, hot breaths met, and hands wandered. For once in much too long, she felt the comfortable twist in the pit of her stomach that forced her hips a hint closer to Conner's. Drunken minds took over for a brief moment, and before their tongues could meet, Sabrina could think of nothing more than Shaun's penetrating stare into their conjoined mouths and compressed bodies.

She became uncomfortable in an instant.

When they parted, Sabrina wiped at the edge of her mouth with her thumb. Her cheeks burned and Conner's hands returned to her waist where they belonged for the time being.

"Too much?" Conner asked.

"No, fine," she said with a shake of her head. "I think I'm ready to go. I got what I wanted."

She got what she wanted, yet she wondered why she felt like shit for doing it.

Sabrina and Conner were scarcely out of the club when Conner was pulled back by an anonymous hand.

"What the bleeding hell was that?" Shaun shouted, staring down Conner, then shifting his gaze to Sabrina, who was unsure of how to meet his glare.

"She's not your girlfriend anymore, mate. You missed your chance," Conner answered.

"In front of me, B? Are you fucking serious?" Shaun asked, looking past Conner once again to try and find a crack in Sabrina's exterior. Her soft shell was always easiest to get through to in a tense moment.

"Don't talk to her," Conner said. Sabrina averted her eyes, looking behind Shaun to see Sarah hurriedly approaching behind him.

"What are you, her fucking bodyguard? She can answer for herself. Right Sabrina?" Conner asked.

"Shaun, stop it!" Sarah screamed, "Leave them alone!"

Everything following then had been a blur to Sabrina. Her anxiety took over, rendering her silent for the better part of half an hour. This was particularly bad considering she was drunk, too. Conner had ushered them into a taxi once they'd left the club, figuring that after the night Sabrina had had, it would be far better than tubing back home.

☽

"Sorry I kissed you," Sabrina mumbled as she stuck her key upside down into the lock. She corrected her error, blinking away the blur from her vision in the meantime.

"Sorry?" Conner replied, not hearing her.

"Sorry for causing a scene," she said instead. She didn't want to fully apologize for the kiss. She hadn't known if it was her who had commenced it or if Conner had, and she didn't want to offend him if that was the case.

"You didn't," he said, surprised. "It's not your fault, you know?"

They trekked up the stairs, shoes echoing on the walls of the bare stairway. Sabrina got her flat key ready. Since Conner lived outside of London—a city Sabrina couldn’t remember the name of—she let him crash at her flat after leaving the club.

She didn't answer him, her mind was too muddled for her to be able to form a whole response. Instead, she let out what sounded like an irritated sigh.

"What are you thinking, Sab?" he asked.

The answer stewed in her mind for a moment longer than she would've liked. But she wanted to keep from giving Conner a disingenuous response. Her keys jingled in the key bowl beside the door and Sabrina peeled her heels off her calves for the second time, the dirt and sweat addled soles of her feet made balancing on the slippery wood floors a difficult task. With one foot on the rug in front of the sofa for leverage, Sabrina flopped onto the sofa with a sigh.

"I made him mad. But at what cost? I don't feel any better," she said, finally looking up at Conner.

He pulled his jumper off, tossing it idly onto the spot beside Sabrina on the sofa. "Well I don't think he would've hit you. Especially not in a public place."

"He could've gone after you," Sabrina said regrettably. She had wanted to get out of the sausage skin that her dress had become, but the comfort of the sofa overpowered her urge to undress.

Her eyes met his again when he didn't respond right away. There was a look in Conner's eye that Sabrina couldn't quite make out.

"Sabrina..." Conner started, "You're too good for this world," he chuckled.

"Then why does everyone keep screwing me over?" She teased with an indignant laugh.

"You're someone's dream girl, Sab," Conner trailed off, his eyes falling down to where her hand steadied her body on the brown suede sofa. His hand touched her wrist softly, the warmth was polarizing against her cool skin.

Sabrina was more than familiar with the tone in his voice, having heard it many times from others in the moments before a kiss. Inside her, something went rotten and she felt like slinking away from Conner. Her inner instincts warned her otherwise, but her thoughts said otherwise. What if he was the one she belonged with? What if this was their first night into forever? She scarcely wanted to pass on the chance.

But Sabrina quickly realized when Conner leaned in further that he wasn't her forever. Then, he was too quick for her to pull back. Conner kissed Sabrina with a more urgent force, like he had been ramping up to it all night, hungry for more after their first kiss on the dance floor.

Sabrina squeaked in shock when his tongue found its way into her mouth, but she figured Conner must have mistaken it for a sound of confidence, as he placed his hand on her cheek and pulled her in tighter to his lips. Her heart began to race. In the kiss, she found that she was lost, unsure of what to do. So she sat still, waiting for Conner to decide he'd had his fill of her.

He took in a breath, pursing his lips inward, "Was that alright?" he asked.

With a swallow, Sabrina nodded insistently. "Great," she said softly, of course a lie. She could feel his alcohol and cigarette-ridden saliva drying on her lips. She remembered there was a lip scrub in her bathroom cabinet...

"You want to keep going?" He asked, his hand gentle, yet firm on her thigh. Her body gave her mixed signals: brain saying to stop, body begging to continue. It was so long since she'd last been touched.

"Sure," Sabrina replied with a nod, ignoring her brain for the time being. It had been so long since she had gotten this sort of attention. From anyone. She didn’t want to say no.

Conner's palm on her thigh was clammy, and she could feel her skin dampening in his touch. Sabrina ignored all this, relishing in the feeling of being given positive reinforcement. Now her heart beat faster, but she began to feel more comfortable with Conner. The damp of his hands was starting to become more of a desirable feeling.

It was then that Sabrina knew she'd jumped off the deep end.

☽

The late May air was colder than she had anticipated it to be the next morning. Despite having gone out the night before, the air felt different. Sabrina felt different.

She rubbed her tired, bare face and regretted it in an instant. Sabrina had touched all manner of dirty railings and doors on the tube ride over to Notting Hill Gate. She groaned and made the right turn into Boots.

The smell of Conner's cologne was stuck on her cardigan. He wound up sleeping on the sofa, his head resting on her cardigan which had lay haphazardly on the sofa’s arm. She didn't know whether to wash it or chuck the sweater in the garbage. Any thought that deferred her mind from the previous night was welcome. While Sabrina stopped Conner before they’d wind up having any sort of intimacy past kissing on her sofa, the less she thought about it, the better.

Over the course of the train ride to Boots, she had repeated her shopping list over and over in her mind. She knew she had forgotten something, since she'd left her shopping list in her flat, but acetone, shaving cream, and razors were a must for this trip. Sabrina was content enough with that.

This Boots branch was one Sabrina already memorized like the back of her hand, and she grabbed the green acetone bottle from the nail polish section before making a beeline for the hair removal section.

Sabrina looked closely at the razor options before her. Why did there need to be so many options, she asked herself. She reached for a pack of Venus razors, fifteen three-blade razors went for £5. Surely there was a better option. Sabrina searched for a five-blade.

Finally, tucked in the back of a pile of three-blades, Sabrina pulled the package of ten five-blade razors. There was no price, of course, so she knew she'd be surprised at the till when she was ready to pay. She shook the thought away, reaching for the distinct pink can of Skintimate shaving cream she'd been buying for the last ten years, and cutting through the back-end of the store to avoid any extra foot traffic.

Sabrina was usually this quick at Boots, leaving a minute or two for her to speculate what it was from her list that she had been missing. She stood in the middle of the store as people walked around her, oblivious to her presence.

In a move of hesitance, she took a step towards Hair Care. There were only two people in the makeshift aisle. One man dressed head to toe in black, the other, an elderly woman. She paid little mind to either of them as she perused the shampoos.

Pantene, Garnier, Herbal Essences....she wasn't sure which one looked best. She plucked the Pantene off the shelf and took a whiff of the Peachy scent. It was certainly undeniable. Sabrina took one off the shelf and tossed it into her basket. Shampoo and conditioner weren't exactly what she had been looking for, but—

"Sabrina?" a gentle voice asked; nasally. The black clothed man.

Sabrina turned, losing grip of the conditioner bottle in shock when she saw who had just identified her. "Jimmy." It was like his name was a button she could press in order to kick-start her heart. Her cheeks flushed and her ears grew fiery hot.

A smile spread across his face, the dimples in his cheeks turning into a multilayered smile. He leant over, reaching for the conditioner on the floor and placed it into Sabrina's basket. Then a whiff of something good and intoxicating lingered in her nose. "Don't look so happy to see me," he teased with a smirk. The five o'clock shadow on his chin made her draw in an extra breath of stability. Fuck he smelled delicious.

"I—" Sabrina stammered. Her brain was empty. "How are you? How was America?"

His curls were tousled, cheeks and eyes puffy, indicative of a good night's rest. It was as if he tumbled out of bed and still managed to look entirely put together. Unlike Sabrina. Try as she might, the one back strand of her hair was still frizzed out beyond belief, there was a stain on her sweater she hadn't known the origin of, and her socks were mismatched.

"I've been—It was good, great. Heat was miserable. Erm," Jimmy surveyed her face and body language, "Everything alright? You look..." he couldn't find the words.

"Not really, no. Long night. Strange night." Sabrina couldn't help but be honest. The elderly woman beside them took notice of Jimmy in the moment. Sabrina had seen her walk over and take a peek. Jimmy was none the wiser.

He nodded in understanding, "Happens to the best of us," he paused, "Listen, uh, sorry about calling you." Sabrina furrowed her eyebrows. "About two weeks ago," he continued.

"Oh! Gosh, I nearly forgot," her heart sank to her stomach, "I figured it was a mistake or something. That you didn't mean to call..."

"Erm, no. Not really. But it's fine, I got everything settled."

Sabrina took a half step back. Cardiac arrest was around the corner but she played it off expertly. "Oh?"

"Just a little accident with one of the suits. A stitch caught on my nail and—pshh, it's so stupid. I'm sorry for bothering you on a Friday night."

“Did you manage to get it fixed?” Sabrina asked earnestly. She began to mentally arrange plans for him to take the suit back to the store so she could manage a quick fix for him, but he stopped her just as she began to imagine them back in the fitting area, close as could be. She nearly shuddered at the thought. Good or bad, she couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, I found an emergency sewing kit and, uh, I patched it up myself.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I had mishaps all the time back in the Led Zeppelin days. I didn’t think, I just called before even rationalizing…Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m sorry!” Sabrina insisted, “I was having dinner with my family in Brent Cross, so I was just really…” she sighed, watching the way the look in his eye changed, “I don’t know. It would've been a welcome distraction.”

“Right,” Jimmy chuckled, his cheeks widening with his smile. All Sabrina could think about was grabbing his cheeks like her gran always pinched hers as a child. Disgusted, she shook the thought from her mind. “Well, even if you did answer, I don’t think you could’ve helped me all the way in Brent Cross.”

“Yeah, unfortunately not. But for your next fashion emergency, I hope I won’t be too far away.”

“I’ll just have to hire you to take care of my clothing mishaps, then. Have you on-call 24/7,” Jimmy teased. Sabrina’s heart beat a little faster in her chest.

“Double my pay at Clarence’s or nothing,” she teased back with a giggle. A giggle? She was only slightly mortified at her response.

“Done.”

She could no longer tell whether or not he was joking. Another customer walked past the two, eyeing Jimmy wildly like he’d just seen the Queen or something. Jimmy took no notice, but Sabrina saw the way the man watched her; predatory, almost jealous that she—a lowly woman was talking to thee Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin fame. The second her eyes met his, the man averted his gaze, paying much closer attention to the purple box dye beside him than to Jimmy and Sabrina. Or so she hoped.

“What?” she blurted out.

“I’d hire you to come work for me. Triple pay," he nearly shrugged.

“Now you’re pulling my leg,” Sabrina rolled her eyes.

“I’ve got the money, Sab. Don’t doubt how serious I can be,” Jimmy smirked. It was the sort of shit-eating smirk he gave when he knew he could win her over; when he hoped his far reaches would be taken as something more. Sabrina’s palms began to sweat. “Plus, I could take you on tour with me. I bet you’d be fun on tour.”

“Yeah, alright. Talk to my boss about it, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have his best employee whisked off by a rock star.” She hoped she sounded like she had been deterring him rather than egging him on.

A third man shuffled by. His quick glance up at Jimmy stopped him in his tracks. Sabrina could tell the man was starstruck. Jesus, how recognizable is he? she wondered to herself. Again, Jimmy took no notice. He seemed to only have eyes for her. Now her mouth felt like someone had stuffed ten cotton balls into it. While she wanted to stay stuck bantering with Jimmy, she felt a bigger urge to run away from the Boots’ customers' prying eyes.

“Excuse me,” the third man interjected. “Jimmy?”

Snapped out of his and Sabrina’s playful trance, Jimmy blinked and the joyful demeanor was replaced by a false one, “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Aw man. Been a huge fan since I was a kid. Would you mind signing something for me?”

Uncomfortable watching the interaction take place, Sabrina made brief eye contact with Jimmy once again, telling him through her expression that she’d be going. Without waiting for a nod or response of disagreement, she rushed to the till.

The sweat on her palms transferred onto the shampoo and conditioner bottles that she hadn’t planned on picking up. She took in a deep breath, Jimmy’s cologne remaining in her nostrils for one final inhale, distracting from the heady smell left on her cardigan from the night before. She was glad to have stopped to pick out some extra hair products.

a special thank you to @jonesyjonesyjonesy for beta reading this (esp while she's on vacation!!)

masterlist | playlist

taglist: @knotnatural @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @rosyfingereddawnn @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx @blackberryblossom @jimmypages @foreverandadaydarling @lzep @n0quart3r @verrbena-in-the-air @groovyysav @mystify1222 if you want to be added to the list let me know!

#IT'S HERE!!!#SHE'S BACK!!!#happy birthday jimmy #part of the birthday celebrations include a new chapter #because you all deserve it #and thank you for being so patient with me #also hope this chapter wasn't too much of a downer #now yall know why I love sab so much #because I wanna grab her and hug the fuck out of her #ISN'T SHAUN THE BIGGEST PIECE OF SHIT?#I hate him #jimmy page #led zeppelin #fanfic #fanfiction #tw abortion #discussed #tw annoying ex #moonbeam

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imogenleewriter · 1 year

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I have opened up to reading WIPS because of your fics (I love all of them, by the way!!!!!!!). Do you have any others to reccomend? 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Honestly, I hate that WIPs get such a bad wrap. I get it because I hate waiting too, but it's also so exciting to get the email, you know? Like I'd rather get it piece by piece than not at all. I'm not going to make this a pretty post because they won't stay WIPs, but here are some of my favourites! I'm only posting ones that have been uploaded to within the last month, but most have been uploaded to within the last week. I Don't Wanna Face The Music - hereforh / @hereforh Current WC: 24k 3/10 - Weekly uploads. Summary: Louis likes to think he's a pretty normal, typical lad. He likes spending nights at the pub with his mates, he loves football and is very close to his family. So when he moves to London for uni, he doesn’t think much will be different. Until he makes these new friends who are nothing like his mates back home and change his life for the better - and this one boy who messes with his head from the get-go and makes him question everything he has ever thought about himself.

Anything But Awkward - The_Dizzy_Pixie / @dizzy-pixie17 Current WC:91k Ch: 17/? Summary: Harry looked down at the signed album in his hands before flipping it over. He blinked at the sight of the cramped and rather messy handwriting scribbled on the back of the vinyl jacket. When you’re less tongue-tied, maybe give me a call, babes. xx :) +44 280913 7777 Harry groaned when he walked right into the side of a bus shelter. Louis Tomlinson had given Harry his number. OR The one where Louis's a rockstar, and Harry's his biggest fan. When he meets him at a signing, he's awkward and forgets everything he wants to say to him but Louis thinks he's cute and gives Harry his number.

Babes In Boyland - bananaheathen/@bananaheathen Current WC: 37k Ch: 4/? Summary: The genderqueer parenthood sequel to Of Mates and Men ❤️ In which, Harry and Louis decide to start a family. Or, the one where they all grow up.

The Pros and Cons of Breathing - HelloLovers13/@hellolovers13 Current WC: 50k Ch: 12/19 Summary: Omega Harry has always known he'd be married off someday, so when he's betrothed to Prince Louis, he's anxious about having to leave his life behind, but hopeful for a happy marriage. The hope doesn't last long, with his husband avoiding him at all costs and Harry being left to fend for himself. Can he find happiness even in a broken marriage? everything to lose - stylinsoncity / @stylinsoncity Current WC: 80k Ch: 14/15 Summary: harry is a global popstar who's convinced the world he has it all -- a happy marriage to a devoted alpha, two beautiful children, two grammy awards, three platinum albums, and a budding film career. but some aspects of his image aren't as true as they seem. like the fact he's been separated for over a year, uses meaningless flings to cope and occasionally forgets responsibilities or commitments to his family. he and louis once commanded stages together. they tackled any challenges to their future. and no matter how hard things got, they always returned to one another. harry would always return to louis. until one day, he finds he can't.

Bike Strike - thinlines / @thinlinez Current WC: 62k Ch: 13/14 Summary: What would you do if you saw someone riding your bike, which had been stolen weeks before, across campus? Omega Harry chose to show no mercy. He didn't know it would all lead him to his own demise. The Habit That I Cant Break - Cyantific / @cyantific Current WC:5k Ch:2/10 Summary: While searching for a healthy alternative to fill the void that one habit left, Louis gets hooked on something and someone totally different. This new experience pushes him way out of his comfort zone, making Louis realize he’s capable of so much more than he could’ve ever imagined. Or… The one where Louis quits smoking and tries to get healthy, and Harry is the fitness instructor who helps him achieve those goals while making him sweat in and out of the gym. In which Harry and Louis still meet at bootcamp, just not the one you’re thinking of. Featuring Lottie as the supportive sister that drags her brother to bootcamp class, Louis as the grumpy ex-smoker, Harry as the instructor with exhausting amounts of enthusiasm and one obnoxious pair of yellow trainers.

Addictive Heart - Alwaysinlove /@always-in-love-x Current WC: 91k Ch: 41/? Summary: Louis prefers to be single. He's seen too many relationships crumble around him to want a boyfriend in his life. As a successful singer on tour, his schedule doesn't exactly allow for a relationship anyway. So he has Harry. Beautiful, handsome Harry, who always turns up whenever Louis is lonely or horny. Because Harry is in love with him. Sadly, Louis doesn't do love. Until one day, Harry stops replying to Louis' messages and he goes on a mission to find out why... Two Hearts In One Home - enchantedlandcoffee / @enchantedlandcoffee Current WC: 14k Ch: 3/? Summary: Best friends Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been living together for almost 3 years. With Louis' YouTube videos mainly featuring challenges, vlogs, and tutorials, his best friend is unknowingly a common topic on his channel (with his identity hidden) leading his viewers to believe that they are dating. What happens when Harry's childhood friend, Niall Horan, returns from Ireland and turns out to be one of his biggest fans and sends a tweet that turns his life upside down?

On The Horizon - FitzAndLarry / @fitzandlarry Current WC: 169k Ch: 16/? Summary: “Let’s enjoy each others’ company. You’re fit; you’re young; you’re a bloody doctor. You’ve got everything going for you.” There’s a moment of hesitation before Louis plants a gentle kiss atop Harry’s head. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be as long as we’re having fun, yeah?” Drunk, loose, and excited on the first night of his two-week-long cruise, Doctor Harry Styles finds himself with a little extra company on what has turned out to be a lonely experience. Louis, the pilot who helped fly him across the Atlantic, is the object of his fling. Thus begins an adventure filled with laughter, sun, and trauma rearing its ugly head. Deadline on their companionship, the pair commit to enjoying their time - and Harry, the screw-up he is, can't help but lose himself in the fantasy.

#my fic recs #wip fic recs

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softlysilverfountainsfall · 10 months

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Savil's death was the most devastating one in the entire Herald Mage Trilogy and I will die on this hill.

"I [Vanyel] can take care of it tomorrow. It's not that urgent...It can wait until morning. He watched the fire through half-closed eyes, listening to Stef breathe, and waited for sleep to take him. Then the peace of the evening shattered.

:VANYEL!:

He was out of bed and grabbing his clothes before Stef woke.

:VAN—:

Savil's cry was cut off, abruptly, and Vanyel doubled up and fell to the floor—Pain—knives of fire [...] Then, nothing—" (Ch 15, Magic's Price)

You can hear her screaming through the all-caps mindspeech. You can hear her desperately calling out to Vanyel, her beloved nephew and protégée for help, the strongest herald-mage in Valdemar and now the last.

You know exactly when she dies because her cry for help is brutally cut off in the middle of Vanyel's name.

"Savil's door was locked; Vanyel kicked it open. His aunt lay in the center of a circle of destruction; furniture overturned, lamps knocked over, papers scattered. Blood everywhere. [...] Claw and teeth marks on Savil's throat and torso showed that she'd put up a fight. A trail of greenish ichor and a broken-bladed knife told that her enemy had not escaped unscathed.

"Not that it mattered to him. The damage was already done, and this time Vanyel's hard-won detachment failed entirely. While the others checked the locks, and looked for clues or any sign of what had attacked her, he sank down to his knees beside the body, and took one limp hand in his—and wept.

Oh, gods—Savil, you were right, and I didn't listen to you. Now you're gone, and it's all my fault. . . ."

"'She was afraid she was going to be next; she asked me to help her, and I just thought she was being hysterical. I promised to strengthen her wards, and I didn't; I forgot. This is all my fault—'"

You are devastated by Vanyel's heartbreak as he curses himself for not listening to her, for putting it off when she said someone was targeting the herald mages and asked him to help her.

"She's never going to sit there in her chair and expound at me again. I can't ever ask her for advice. She'll never take on Father for me—she was my mother in everything but flesh, and I failed her, I failed her, when I'd promised to help her. He hung his head, and closed his eyes, choking down the sob that rose and cut off his breathing" (emphasis mine).

Savil was a rock for Vanyel and thus for the reader throughout the trilogy (and her death is near the end of the last book & the catalyst for the end). She was very human and fallible but steady, devoted, and talented mentor and mage.

But what about Tylendel?, you say. Yes, Tylendel's death was awful, but it doesn't get nearly the lengthy treatment that Savil's does, and...there was a lot of other stuff going on. But what about Vanyel?, you say. Well, there is a reason that I put off reading the last part of Magic's Price, and it's because Vanyel's death is horribly devastating, but also victorious, and he gets his happy afterlife.

"Savil, Savil, I'm so sorry—and sorry isn't enough. Sorry won't bring you back. Tears escaped from under his closed eyelids, and etched their way down his cheeks. He couldn't swallow; he could hardly breathe." (Ch 15, Magic's Price)

She called for him. The last thing Savil ever did was call Vanyel for help. He was down the hall from her and much, much too far away.

#savil's cut-off cry for :VAN—: has haunted me ever since I read this book years ago #it's so awful because it is so good at conveying her desperation and pain #ahhhh #vanyel ashkevron #savil ashkevron #tylendel frelennye #heralds of valdemar #the last herald mage #magic's price #cw blood #cw death #softlysilver

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 14

of the wwx emperor au that’s now more like the terrible horrible time the Lan Sect is having ugh

It does not take long to leave the noise of the disciples and their game behind them.

The path around the mountain is wide, and appears to have been well tended throughout the warmer months. Still, the evidence of the recent autumn storms is everywhere, frequently forcing them to detour around fallen branches and uprooted brush.

The first time Nie MingJue offers him a hand in assistance, XiChen nearly trips over nothing but his own feet. Although they hardly come upon any obstacles that require such attention, XiChen accepts each time, and each time the anticipation of the next seems to grow.

XiChen’s hands are not soft by any means. His calluses are not only present on the areas so frequently affected by sword practice, but years of playing the guqin have hardened his fingers as well. They are not hands that must be treated with care, yet Nie MingJue does, his grip light and gentle. Each time, the warmth of his palm inevitably travels to XiChen’s face, and XiChen very much hopes that the color in his cheeks can be ascribed the cold mountain breeze instead.

“How do you like the Peach Blossom Pavilion?” Nie MingJue says, and XiChen finds himself surprised by the question.

For all the insinuations the Royal Companion had made about Madam Yu being attentive to their accommodations, at no point has anyone actually inquired after their comfort. XiChen is fairly certain that most of the guests are unaware of the Lan Sect’s current residence in the Immortal Mountain City.

It is logical, that the General of the Emperor’s army would keep a close track of everyone’s accommodations, and express some interest in the matter. Still, XiChen so rarely considers his own comfort, that it takes him a few moments to formulate a response.

“It is peaceful,” he says finally, “I like it very much.”

It is far removed from the palaces usually occupied by distinguished guests. It is also small, and does not require a sea of servants to maintain. These are all welcome things to the Lan Sect, who do not want to be in close proximity to the others, and place great value in peace and silence. However, XiChen does not know how to voice any of those benefits without making them sound like grievances.

“It is one of the oldest structures in the Immortal Mountain City,” Nie MingJue says, “do you know the story behind the name?”

“Only that the Empress Immortal had settled there upon first arriving to the Immortal Mountain.”

Nie MingJue nods, and helps XiChen navigate two crude stone steps, worn down by centuries of wind and rain. The path evens out again, but the incline is now noticeable. The air is so rich here, that XiChen can almost taste the coolness of it on his tongue.

“At the time, the Empress Immortal was only a rogue cultivator,” Nie MingJue says, “A capable one, but not yet renown enough to form an Empire. It is said that she could feel the inherent power of the Immortal Mountain, and had chosen to settle here precisely for this reason. I, however, am more inclined to think that she was simply searching for some peace and silence.”

The words are followed by a small smile in XiChen’s direction, and XiChen cannot help but smile back.

“The Peach Blossom Pavilion is named for the peach tree that grew in its place. The legend states that the Empress Immortal spent her first night underneath this tree, and that the tree bore fruit the next morning to provide her with nourishment.”

This part of the story is unfamiliar to XiChen, and he listens attentively, wondering where it could possibly lead.

“She built her first home next to that same peach tree, and when the autumn storms took it down, her second and her third. Although she still traveled far and wide, the Immortal Mountain became a place she considered her own, a shelter from the rest of the world.”

Ahead, a small pile of rocks obstructs their way. Larger boulders had dislodged at one point, but the majority of them had rolled past the path itself, crumbling into the fissure below. Still, when Nie MingJue offers his hand, XiChen takes it.

“Eventually, the peach tree died. Most commonly it is said that the Immortal Empress was gone too long, and found it already withered on her return. Some prefer to think that a storm had uprooted the tree, a lesson on the inconsistency of all living things when faced with the might of Heavens. Others say that enemies of the Immortal Empress destroyed it on purpose. The details vary from one region to another.”

At one point, Nie MingJue’s fingers had tightened around his own, and now, XiChen cannot seem to shake the tingling sensation that envelops his hand from fingertips to his wrist.

“The story is always clear on the aftermath, however. The Empress Immortal was still young, and already extremely advanced in cultivation. She had not yet learned that spiritual power has its limits, and that the natural progression of life cannot be altered without consequences.”

The path is steadily rising now, curving more sharply around the mountain face, the trees growing scarce.

“She was determined to have her peach tree. In order to accomplish this, she sunk all of her power into the mountain soil. She exerted herself to such an extent that her death should have been the outcome. And although she lived, nearly half a century would pass before her spiritual power recovered.”

The next curve stops XiChen in his tracks.

The mountain face is steep here, but not so steep that it cannot support growth. A field of grass and wildflowers stretches in front of his eyes, waving in the mountain wind. And in the middle of this field, dozens of peach trees stand tall, each one in full bloom.

They are beautiful. The color of their blossoms is so vivid, it seems painted on with a heavy hand, the innermost flowers so dark, that they resemble droplets of blood. The breeze easily snatches their petals, carpeting the field in an ocean of pink and white.

They are lovely, and yet, the longer XiChen watches them, the more unsettled he feels. It takes him a few moments to pinpoint the source of his unease, and then it is so obvious that he feels foolish.

It is late autumn. No peach trees bloom in autumn.

“They bloom all year long,” Nie MingJue says, “They never age, and they never bear fruit.”

“Oh,” XiChen says, more of a breath than a word, and easily lost in the wind.

They are not real.

There are so many wondrous things one can accomplish with spiritual power, but no amount of skill or strength is capable of creation. Spiritual power cannot turn back death, and it cannot give birth to new life.

XiChen remembers this lesson so clearly, that for an instant, he is back in the Library Pavilion at Cloud Recesses, hearing his uncle’s calm voice, smelling the gardenias growing by the pavilion windows.

All things are born, and all things must die. Even the greatest cultivators in the world, those who reach immortality, will one day be nothing but bones and dust in the earth, their last purpose to nourish new life. He had committed the lesson to memory then, but he does not think that he fully understood it until this very moment, faced with a dozen blooming peach trees in the late autumn.

Frozen in a moment, forever unchanging. Beautiful to see, but lacking everything that makes them truly alive.

A deep, inexplicable sorrow envelops him, and he feels his breath stutter in his chest.

“I have upset you,” Nie MingJue says, voice heavy with concern, “Forgive me. That was not my intention.”

“No, I--“

XiChen does not know how to explain himself. His happiness or melancholy are so rarely addressed in words, that he does not possess the vocabulary necessary to speak of them.

“I am not upset, I am only-- sad for them, I suppose.”

He cannot meet Nie MingJue’s eyes. He feels silly, and wonders if the man thinks him ridiculous.

“You must think me foolish.”

“I do not,” Nie MingJue says.

He sounds upset at the implication, but whatever other words he may have to say never come.

There is an unexpected noise behind them, a sound of many boots traveling the same path. XiChen turns to find a dozen men in the uniforms of the Imperial Guard.

The man leading them, a tall youth XiChen does not remember meeting before, bows to Nie MingJue and addresses him directly.

“General Nie, forgive me. I have been ordered to take Young Master Lan into custody, and escort him to the Jade Sword Palace.”

XiChen feels every part of his body turn numb at the words.

“Into custody?” Nie MingJue says, “For what reason?”

“For the attempted murder of the HeJian Fan Sect Leader.”

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logicheartsoul · 2 years

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how to deal with poor fic reception? i have an ocxcanon series that i put a LOT of my heart/soul into. i just started posting the first few chs. bc it’s oc/canon + a smol fandom, i have no delusions abt how much attention it will get. it has gotten a nice number of kudos so far….but no comments. i’m trying to tell myself it’s OK but it’s kinda hard to feel OK…i’m not sure how to deal with this so i can still keep writing the whole series since i do love the story very very much

I guess it depends on the definition on what you mean by 'poor fic reception' because depending on the fandom and depending on how many fans are in it and how active it is, something that may have low numbers in a bigger, more active fandom, may actually be doing pretty well. I've been in a variety of very rare, small, niche fandoms and some extremely big, active ones. Something like 15 kudos in a small af fandom is pretty significant, coz the smaller the pool of people, the more likely most of the fans have seen it, you know? Even in a big fandom, 15 isn't bad either -- in all the content they had to choose from, those 15 decided to look at your work? That's pretty damn good I feel.

Just by the general nature of things, any fics that are primarily only oc/canon fic is gonna be harder to get more reception than if a fic has canon/canon only ship or if it's a fic with canon/canon and oc/canon. I could probably get into it, and there's lot of meta essays discussing the why's about it, but the fact is, it's just naturally harder to get more readers into it. Since you've mentioned about having no delusions about the attention, I'm sure you know the reasons that I do too.

It's good you got a lot of kudos so far! I dunno if you've seen the Meaning of Kudos post (which is a survey done by readers of ao3 on what they actually mean when they kudos a fic) but all those kudos do mean something, and it's all positive.

I totally understand though, wanting to hear what people think about the work and effort you've put into a story, and how it may seem like silence. A good thing to keep in mind is that [x] amount of people read your work and liked it. Sometimes it's hard to lose sight of it because it's numbers on a screen, but a good trick I've learned from someone is picture being in a room. Imagine the number of people you got for those kudos or hits. If it's 26, holy shit, that's 26 people, that's almost the start of a big party! If it's 100 or more, that's the size of a big college lecture class.

Another thing I know from reading fic for a long time and writing fic and being friends with fic writers for years, is that many people might enjoy the premise/idea of an on-going story but will wait for it to be completed before reading it. Some of them they got burned by amazing WIPs and then the authors abandoned the stories or it doesn't update for years or they have limited time to read fic and wanna read it all in one go. And even if people are reading your on-going fic, they sometimes don't comment for the same reason -- they want to save all their thoughts and opinions til the very end.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with asking in the author's notes about leaving a comment. Of course, not in a rude way, but something like 'oh I spent a lot of time working on this chapter this week because...[insert reason], I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments!' or something along those lines. Sometimes readers just need some nice encouragement to leave a comment, even if it's just an emoji reaction.

If the story is one you love writing, I hope you keep going at it! I hope these things might help make it easier, coz it can really get tough. But I hope it won't discourage you to keep going.

Now, if you want to potentially get more eyes to look at your work -- and therefore increase the chances of a reader who does comment to show up -- there are ways to do that. They're not all guaranteed, of course, and I've known MANY an amazing fic writer whose works can get overlooked for lots of reasons and the most popular work can be someone who's just managing to be striking it hot while the timing is right with the most popularly sought out tropes with decent enough execution on the ideas. Popularity does not equal skill and does NOT indicate people who are not popular enough are bad writers.

This response is getting kinda lengthy, so I'll leave it under the cut.

Some of that is of course making sure you're not posting in the AO3 dead zone hours (which I recently found out is a thing, wtf) (check this post out for more info ) so that it allows your chapter updates to show up on the front page of your pairing's tag and a better chance at new readers to see it.

There's also promoting the fic on a tumblr account (either a personal tumblr, a writing only tumblr, or a fandom only tumblr, whatever you want to choose) and using the right tags to get eyes on it (first 5 for it to show up on tagged pages and first 10 for in search results). Please don't use tags that have nothing to do with the fic --characters or pairings that aren't relevant -- because the fans of those tags will most likely just block you, but also it's easier to maintain tagging to relevant stuff as well. Also, it just makes fans of those characters or pairings annoyed, to the point of possibly writing posts about that very thing. And annoyed/mad fans will spread the knowledge of who is doing that kind of thing if they're mean/petty enough. Just better for everyone around to stick with fandoms, characters, and pairing tags that are relevant.

And don't be afraid to reblog your own work to promote it -- people have busy lives and also live in different timezones and countries and so whoever might be seeing might be like, 'oh! This fic updated!'

Another good tip is to regularly update but not post like 5 chapters at once. Max 2 chapters in one go is ok, but space out the chapter updates if you aren't already doing so. That allows people time to read each part through. The only exception I can think of for more than 2 chapters if it's like... the very end of the story, then people can be like 'oh this 20 chaptered fic is complete! I can start reading it now!'

Also, people love following authors they like on other platforms, so if you're comfortable with it, you can also leave in the author's notes the tumblr account you'd want them to interact with.

There's too making friends in the fandom you're in -- people who can understand and share your enthusiasm for why you wanna write this. Sometimes what we're searching for when wanting comments for our fics, other than validation, is just someone to connect to and seeing how what we created connected with them. Sometimes just getting a friend's comment can be better than a random person's.

And, while not all fandoms do this, some do, and that's to find a person or a fandom blog that helps promote other writers for their works and getting someone's eyes on it. Like a pairing/reading library or someone who routinely recs works and encourages others to send their fics in so they can check it out. That could also help! Of course, that's no guarantee the person or people running it WILL read it but sometimes you just gotta put yourself out there. You won't always strike but you never know.

Anyways, I hope all of this was helpful, anon! I do hope you get more good feedback on your fic, that someone will comment, and that you continue enjoying writing this story you love.

And of course, if none of this helps, sometimes it IS ok to step back and take a break. Take a break from the writing or in fandom, whether that's a day or a week or longer. No comments is not an indicator of your worth as a person or as a writer. Sometimes, stepping back to distract ourselves or to not think about it for awhile helps refocus it all.

#ask #anon #answers #a-chan talks writing stuff #feedback #i hope some or all or any of this helps you anon or anyone reading this #one of my better pieces of writing on ao3 that i still love has like... maybe 1 comment but i also know that's not an indicator on me as a #writer coz i know it's a gen fic and gen fics get less engagement but also for a smaller fandom for a more supporting character so i knew #that going in but i have had friends say they love my work and enjoy it and i try to keep those words going in my head #anyhow just know you should be proud of what you accomplished comment or no comment! you wrote a story with chapters! you made a thing!#that's freaking hard! and i have to remind myself all the time when I write and i've been at this a LONG time so

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angel-riki · 3 years

Text

Dazed & Dreaming {Ch. 3 }

summary: Y/N's life was always quite normal, some may even consider it boring. However, Y/N enjoyed her simple life and the little pleasures it brought. Unfortunately, that all changed the day she found out her best friend's biggest secret. Her discovery leads her down a rabbit hole of a new and confusing world she never knew existed. She must now navigate this new life filled with love, fear, and the supernatural. What awaits her down this path?

pairing: enhypen x reader (vampire au)

warnings: light swearing

word count: 1,658

chapters: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.4]

~~~~~~~~~~

God, the weekend can't come soon enough. You sighed as you strolled through the hall to go grab the books for your next class. As you approached your locker, you noticed Heeseung was there waiting for you. He was hard to miss since he towered over all of the lockers. Has he always been this tall? Your heart fluttered and you couldn't keep from smiling. He waved at you as you got closer.

"Hey, Y/N!" he said cheerfully.

"Hello," you replied, "What are you doing here? Not that I mind or anything!" You tried not to sound rude, you were just confused. Your schedules were completely different and his locker was in an entirely different wing than yours. Usually, you only saw each other at lunch.

"I just thought I'd come see you...I missed you," he admitted.

You were not ready for that answer. It was like he was trying to make you fall in love with him. Your face was burning up, you probably looked ridiculous.

"Oh, that's really sweet. I missed you too," you returned his kindness with a giggle.

Now, it was his turn to blush. He looked away from you, trying to contain his smile. It seemed like you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

Heeseung ended up walking you to your next class, chatting on the way. You were sad you only got to talk for a few minutes, but you'd see him soon since lunch was right after.

You set your stuff down at your desk and pulled out your books. As everyone settled into class, your teacher announced that today was going to be a work day. You were relieved because you had a couple of assignments you desperately needed to catch up on. You cracked your knuckles before getting to work. You managed to focus surprisingly well, considering Heeseung was taking up 90% of your thoughts. You ended up getting completely caught up with all of your assignments before the bell rang. Feeling accomplished, you packed up your books and headed to the cafeteria.

*****

You looked around for Jake and Heeseung like usual, tray in hand. You spotted them sitting with three other boys that you didn't recognize. Two of them were blonde and the other had black hair. Maybe they're those other boys that Jake and Heeseung talked about, you thought while heading to their table. Jake looked up from their conversation and noticed you approaching them.

"Hey, Y/N!" He smiled wide while motioning for you to sit next to him. The rest of the boys looked up and noticed you as well. You waved at them all, a bit intimidated. As you joined them, Jake introduced you all. "Everyone, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki," he explained. You smiled at the new faces,

"Hello, nice to meet you all," you said with a gentle smile. Wow, they're all so cute, you thought. Were all of Jakes friends this good looking? The three boys stared back at you in awe.

"Wow, you're Y/N? Jake has told us so much about you!" Sunoo chimed in excitedly. He really reminded you of a puppy.

"Yeah, he talks about you a lot," Niki admitted.

"It's nice to finally meet you!" Jungwon added with kind eyes.

You became less tense as you heard their words. You were touched, Jake really talks about me that much? You looked over at him and you noticed his cheeks were dusted pink. Why does he seem embarrassed? You decided not to think into it too much as the boys carried on their conversation.

"Where's Sunghoon? Shouldn't he be here by now?" Niki asked, confused.

"He had lunch detention so he'll probably get here pretty late, if at all," Jake said. They all chuckled. None of them looked surprised, a few even rolled their eyes. This seemed to be a common occurrence.

Everyone continued on talking and eating for a few minutes before the boys suddenly perked up and began waving at someone. You turned around to see who they were waving at.

Oh no.

It was that strange boy you had run into in the hall last week. The universe just loved making you uncomfortable, apparently.

"Sunghoon, you're here!" Sunoo exclaimed happily.

"How did you get out of detention?" Jungwon asked.

"I got up and left." Sunghoon said like it was obvious.

"Didn't the teacher try to stop you?" Heeseung joined in.

"No, she went to the bathroom."

The boys laughed and shook their heads. Sunghoon sat down at the table as Jake began to introduce you once again,

"Sunghoon, this is Y/N-"

"Oh, we've met." Sunghoon cut him off, grinning as his eyes went to you. The rest of the boys looked slightly confused.

"Uh yeah, we're in the same english class. I didn't know he was a friend of yours," you chuckled nervously as you tried to explain yourself. You didn't want anyone to get any weird ideas since Sunghoon seemed like he was trying to imply something else.

"Ah, that makes sense," Heeseung said. They all nodded, understanding now.

"So, how did you get detention this time?" Niki asked, changing the subject.

"I didn't do my homework." Sunghoon answered.

"What class was it for?" Jungwon questioned.

"English."

Jake perked up at his answer. "Oh, you should have Y/N help you! She's great at english and you're both in the same class, it's perfect!'" He explained. You shot Jake a look for volunteering you.

"What a good idea, Jake." Sunghoon turned to you, smirking with his tongue in his cheek. "Whaddaya say, Y/N?"

"Uh, yeah sure," You laughed awkwardly and accepted his request, not wanting to appear rude. Although you really did not want to.

"Great, I'll see you after school," he said, pleased with the way things were playing out. You weren't expecting to start today, but you weren't about to argue with him.

*****

The end of the day finally came as you checked the time and sighed. Time to go meet up with Sunghoon. You grumbled as you headed to the library. How did I let myself get roped into this?

You entered the library and looked around for the dark-haired boy. You noticed him sitting far off in a corner by himself. As you walked over to him, you realized he didn't have any of his books or work with him.

"Where are your books?" You asked, confused.

"Eh, I didn't feel like bringing them," he said, uninterested.

"Why would you ask for my help if you clearly don't want to do the work?" He was starting to get on your nerves.

"Because I wanted to see you, obviously," he said smugly.

You scoffed before sitting down next to him and pulling out your books for him to use. You weren't going to let him off this easy.

"Well lucky for you, I have my books with me. So let's get started," you retorted. He rolled his eyes at you. "Hey, you wanted this, not me." You said, holding your hands up defensively. He sighed and accepted defeat as you opened the book and began going over the assignment.

You had only been working for about 15 minutes but you were already over it. Tutoring him was like pulling teeth. You would put in the effort to thoroughly explain something to him, just for him to write down the most half-assed answer ever. And what made things even more frustrating was that you could tell he understood everything perfectly, he wasn't dumb. He was actually quite smart, he just didn't care and didn't want to care. You quickly realized he didn't actually even need your help. Your patience was wearing thin as he began tapping his pencil against the table rather loudly.

"Can you please stop that?" you asked, unamused.

"Anything for you, princess." The nickname dripped off of his tongue so naturally. Too naturally. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your book. Yet, your heart was beating faster than you'd like to admit.

You continued working, but after a while he stopped listening and just began staring at you. You didn't want to give in. You carried on while trying to ignore him. Sadly, you failed. You turned to face him, visibly uncomfortable.

"Are you even paying attention?" You asked.

"Not to the work, just to you." He answered honestly.

Why were your cheeks getting hot?

"Why do you keep doing that?" you questioned, irritated.

"Doing what?" He said with a teasing grin.

"Saying weird things," you said, "Do you like making me uncomfortable or something?"

"Yeah, I do. It's fun. Plus, you look really cute when your flustered." He stated simply.

You hated to admit it, but he did have an affect on you. You convinced yourself that it was just because of his good looks. There was no way you actually liked him, right? Right? Either way, you were not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had such an effect on you. You stood up and gathered your things, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. You were frustrated in more ways than one.

"Aw, leaving so soon, princess?" he asked.

"Yes. You're driving me crazy." You replied, already heading towards the library doors.

"Yeah, in a good way." He said, satisfied with himself.

You pretended not to hear his last remark as you left.

After exiting the building, you finally felt like you could breathe again. God, Sunghoon was suffocating to be around. Jake, why did you have to befriend such a jackass?

~~~~~~~~~~

Hello! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I tried to pick up the pace and add some more ~romance~ hehehe. I also finally introduced all of the boys except Jay (don't worry he'll come into the picture very soon). Until next time!

~Elle <3

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charmspoint · 2 years

Note

I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THINGS LIKE THIS TO SUBMIT TO YOU YASSS

3 12 15 19 23 (cautiously avoids 18)

I love reading the Lucy Rambles™ ok?

jk do 18 too (pls ily)

Frappe loves reading my rambles >:3 I love rambling >:3 win win situation <3<3<3<3

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year?

The hardest at the beginning yas. I have such a terrible memory for lines and stuff hgvhh uhhh first thing that comes to mind is one I didn't post yet from Satoru's prequel that is impossible to explain without giving away like...the plot...just know it's sad and I like Toji in it, that's it.

More concretely I really liked writing the fluff scene in Cannibalization of the Apex ch 6, where Satoru puts so much effort into changing into something more palatable and then Suguru slowly leads him back from it, leads him back to the form that's most natural to him because he is his Satoru and he loves him just the way he is. The boys really deserved a break and it was nice to write something that was just unapologetically soft and fluffy for a fic that up until that moment had been nothing but pain.

12. favorite character to write about this year?

Should come as no surprise at all

Been brain worming about this mans whole fucking year and I'm not nearly done, please send help.

15. something you learned this year?

I FEEL LIKE I LEARNED A LOT THIS YEAR

I'd gotten comfy with outlining, I became able to write LONG STUFF (Rip), I've gotten good tips on fight scenes and general grammar stuff from my beta, I've even gotten some good tips on sex scenes lol. I've figured out how to edit my work better, how to recognize when a scene needs to be cut or reworded instead of stubbornly trying to make it work, just a lot of little things that I think will make my writing smoother in long term. Before last year I've been struggling with writing quite a bit and then by the end of it I've gotten to writing regularly once again. And a lot of my work then felt very...clumsy and unpolished and just...just gurgling out the trash you know? N I feel like this year has been me getting back to pace, flexing and stretching and figuring out all the ways in which I can move now. I'm really excited for the next year, I hope with all the things I learned this year my quality gets even better >:3

18. current number of wips?

The joke is on you because like yesterday I went and cleared out my wip folder and put everything I don't intend to work on any time soon in my hiatus folder (where my bnha fics went to rot) so as of now I have only 5 wips uwu

Recently I finished up some event stuff so that got sorted out and talentless nana readers should be happy to know assigned lesbian is still in wip folder i just...need to get kicked or something...im so sorry talentless nana fandom...

This of course doesn't count all the gang au fics gathering ideas or your request which is in a pickle jar in the back of my brain but yes uwu i got organized and cleaned everything up so I can prioritize better, new year new me.

19. any new fics to start next year?

Well today I'll be posting the fic I did for jjk exchange so there's that :3. But it's not like a pairing I usually write for so hjbjhvhj.

Next year should take a while to get started, currently I'm most intensely working on my stsg winter exchange piece (reveal early february) and then Satoru's gang au prequel which is nearing end but will take a LOT of editing so it's hard to predict when it will be out. BUT when I'm done with my exchange piece I'm planning to finally slot in dad Gojo for writing and while with Gang au I'm going to wait till I have everything written and edited (and illustrated ;3) to post, dad gojo will follow the same schedule as curse au aka 'a chapter is out as soon as it's done' so either that or my exchange piece is coming out first,

You know, unless I get inspo for a random one shot before that which is always possible.

I feel like 2022 will be a year of long term things >.< I hope the extra wait will be worth it!

23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t?

Opens my hiatus folder

I think my circus AU and 7 days are the most prominent ones I thought of this year but didn't have the time for, but I think I tend to be pretty realistic about when I'll get something out so I've always expected those to take a bit longer and stretch out of this year.

7 days double especially for this because while for circus au I had a concept but knew I wouldn't get to it, I've actually started writing 7 days and I just...mmmm I think I could do better with it so I'm saving my strength for it. I think it could be really good if I give it the right attention so...no rushin.

I might use it when stsg big bang rolls around who knows >:3

Thank you for the ask ily v much <3<3<3<3

End of the year ask game

#ask game #evaizelsilence #me and frappe just be enabling each others rants

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spencers-dria · 3 years

Text

Do You Trust Me?

Someone To Stay Ch. 6

Spencer x fem reader

Y/N POV:

*whack*

You smack your alarm as it goes off for the third time this morning. You look at the clock: 7:15AM. Was it later than you get to sleep in for work? Sure. Did you want to get up this early on your day off? Nope. Between JJ being the planner and Penelope's excitement for the weekend, they had convinced the the group that it would be best to get an early start. It was a several hour drive the to the lake, and they wanted to make the most of our time there.

You roll out of bed and look in the mirror. Sweats and a spaghetti strap tank...this will have to do. You leave your hair in the messy bun that you slept in. Half asleep, you fumble around for some socks and slip on some sandals. A horrific choice you know, but we're going for comfort here, not fashion. It'll be fine. You're not trying to impress anyone, and you'll fix yourself up once you get to the lake. You fully intend to nap part of the way there. You don't even bother to grab breakfast. Instead, you grab your bags you packed the night before and head downstairs. Spencer is probably waiting on you already.

You see him pulling the car up, right on time, as you make your way down the stairs. You slide into the passenger side, setting your bag down in the back seat. Reaching into a road trip bag in your lap, you pull out a blanket and pillow and curl up in your seat.

"Good morning sleepyhead" he chuckles. "Not a morning person, huh?"

You grin. "What gave it away?"

He hands you a paper bag and a coffee cup.

"Don't worry, it's green tea and honey" he reassures you, sensing your hesitation.

"I also got you a bagel."

"I don't know who's been giving you trade secrets but food is really the number one way to win me over." You glance over to see a slight smirk on his face. "How are you so awake? You had time to get ready, grab food, drive to my apartment, and you still seem more awake than I do."

"I'm kind of used to not getting much sleep." He shrugs this off as if it's nothing. You sense he doesn't intend on explaining any further, so you decide not to push him.

"I brought some snacks too. You're welcome to anything you'd like." You pull out a some goldfish, fruit gummies, and Capri suns.

He responds with a laugh.

"Ok you have the appetite of a ten year old."

You feel embarrassed for a moment until you see the smile he's giving you.

"It's cute though."

You find yourself blushing, not used to compliments. "Yeah I guess sometimes I just like to let loose, let my inner child out. Not everything has to be so serious all the time, ya know? What we do, both of us...it's stressful stuff. Sometimes eating whatever the heck I feel like helps with that. If that means chocolate milk and cocoa crispies cereal for dinner then so be it!"

Spencer gives you another smile before holding his hand out. "Alright, you won me over. I'll take a Capri sun."

You can't help but laugh as you watch him try to insert the straw with one hand and drive with the other. After awhile you decide to help him out.

"Here, let me see that." You fix the straw and hand him back the drink. "Goober" you laugh as you rolls your eyes at him.

"So what all are you planning on doing at the lake this weekend?" He asks.

"The question is...what am I NOT going to do?"

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes and laughs. "No fair. You're athletic, coordinated. You can actually do all the fun stuff."

You turn to face him with an incredulous look on your face, jaw dropped. "You're kidding me right? Me? Athletic? That's funny!" You laugh shaking your head. "Nahh I'd say we're on a level playing field. I'm not coordinated at all! I just like go have fun, try adventurous things. Like kayaking, I'm just mediocre but I still love doing it. The only sport I ever did was swimming."

"Ha! You were a swimmer, we're going to a lake, and you think we're on a level playing field?"

"Ok fair enough" you concede. "Will you at least try something new this weekend? Please?" You bat your big brown eyes at him, a technique that rarely failed you.

He feigns a look of annoyance, before a smile finally starts teasing at the corner of his lips. "Alright, alright." He throws his hands up in surrender. "But only if you help me with whatever it is we do. A swimmer and a nurse, you're practically our lifeguard for the weekend. Don't let me drown, ok?" He teases.

"Well since you asked so nicely." You give him a playful punch in the arm as you both laugh.

After a brief moment of silence you hear Spencer speak up. "Did you know that Michael Phelps is the most decorated Olympian of all time, winning 28 medals in total, 23 of those being gold medals? He swam in his first Olympic Games at only 15 years old, and won his first gold medal at 19. And you...already knew this didn't you?" He stops when he sees your eyebrows raised, giving him a slight smirk.

"Yeah Spencer" you smile, shaking your head at him. "I don't mind though. I like hearing all the cool stuff you know."

You spend awhile listening to Spencer talk about everything from Olympic swimming facts to CPR statistics and the origin of the different swimming strokes. A lot of it you don't know already, and you enjoy learning all of this stuff from him. After awhile, you unintentionally drift off to sleep.

He looks over and smiles, he doesn't mind. This happens to him quite often, and the fact that you encouraged him to share his knowledge gives him comfort. He reaches over and pulls the blanket over your shoulders. Hoping to drown out the sound of the highway, he puts on some classical music at a low volume.

You wake up a couple hours later as you hear the loud sound of gravel under the tires.

"Morning sunshine" he grins at you.

"Oh I'm sorry! I wasn't going to make you drive the whole way."

"It's ok, you got your rest. Better you be rested up and have fun today than stay awake just to drive."

"Thanks Spencer." You smile to yourself. He really was very sweet. Good friends are hard to come by, especially ones you can trust that will stick around. You secretly hope that Spencer doesn't plan on dropping you as a friend anytime soon.

You climb out of the car and take a look around. You've arrived at a modest log cabin, sitting right on the edge of the lake. It's surrounded by y'all trees, so thick that you can't see any buildings anywhere else, if there are any. You stand there for a moment taking it all. You lean your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the sounds and smells of nature. It felt like home. You grab your bag out of the backseat and make your way along a dirt path toward the cabin. You stick yourself hand out by your side, brushing the leaves on the trees as you walk by.

"You really are in your element here, huh?" you hear Spencer call out from behind you.

"Oh you have no idea. Just wait till I get in the water" you shout back over your shoulder.

The two of you make your way into what appears to be the common living room. The cabin appears to be completely wooden everywhere, floors, ceilings, walls, beams. There's rustic decor and lots of plaid, but it's done tastefully. It feels so cozy, and you love it.

"Y/N! You made it! We're in here!" You see Penelope's head pop out of a doorway. You enter a room to find two sets of bunk beds. Penelope and Alex have taken bottom bunks. JJ has her stuff placed on the top bunk above Alex. You set your suitcase in an empty corner and throw your pillow on the bed above Penelope. You feel her sneak up and pull you into a tight hug. "Hey bunk buddy! This weekend is going to be so fun!"

"I'm surprised Penny, the outdoors don't seem like your type of weekend."

"Oh don't worry honey! I brought a float with coasters and a tray for the lake! I'll be sipping on wine and tanning all weekend."

"Just make sure to wear sunscreen okay." You give her a nudge and a smile.

"Okay Nurse Y/L/N." She rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Don't worry! I brought enough sunscreen for everyone."

"Haha, of course you did Aunt JJ."

You look over to see her unpacking her suitcase and organizing her things in the drawers and closets. You decide to do the same, that way it will be easier to find all your things later. After you've all finished unpacking, Alex says she's going to take a quick nap. After getting ready in your swim wear and coverups, you, Penelope, and JJ wander over to the guys room to see what they're up to.

You peek in to see Spencer reading on the bunk above Hotch, who appears to be on a FaceTime call with his son, Jack. Rossi isn't in the room. He's probably already started organizing things in the kitchen. Derek looks like he's ready for the lake, already in swim trunks and rubbing on sun tan lotion.

"You need any help with that, hot rod?" Penelope jests.

"You know it mama."

At this response, Penelope runs quickly across to room and helps Derek to finish rubbing in the suntan lotion on his back. She looks to be enjoying it a little too much.

You and JJ stay leaning in the doorway, laughing.

You finally speak up. "I don't know about y'all, but I've been stuck in a car all day! So if you need me, I'll be out at the lake!"

"I'm right behind, ya." JJ turns to follow you.

At this, Spencer finally pops up from behind his book. "Oh umm, we're going outside now? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet Spencer, come with us and we'll figure it out."

You wait on him while he changes into some swim trunks and a t shirt. He stands in the doorway a bit awkwardly, hesitant to leave the cabin.

"Come on!" You grab his hand pulling him out onto the porch and down toward the lake, following behind JJ, Penelope, and Derek.

When you get to the waters edge, you see the group has already spotted a rope swing. Derek appears to be climbing into a position to jump from. JJ stops him, to test the integrity of the rope first.

Penelope watches as Derek effortlessly climbs up the rocks. "My monkey man" she smirks.

Once JJ seems satisfied that the rope won't break, Derek swings out over the water, doing a back flip before making a splash in the water that sprays everyone watching from the shore. A chorus of groans rings out, half from annoyance at the show off, half from not wanting to get splashed.

You remove your shoes and your coverup as you prepare to get in the water. You can tell Spencer is making a conscious effort to avert his gaze. You blush, suddenly remembering the girls' previous comments about how good you looked in the slick back two piece.

You quickly make your way up the rocks and grab onto the rope as it swings back towards you. Spencer gives you a concerned look.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You could get hurt!" He shouts up at you.

Instead of answering you give him a quick smirk. You back up and get a running start for momentum, holding onto the rope as you swing out over the water. You let the momentum push you out as far as it will take you, as you angle your arms and body to dive deep into the water, just like you used to off the starting block in swimming. As you feel your body dive down into the water, you angle back up and do a quick, few dolphin kicks, propelling yourself much further from the shore. When you finally surface, you're about 20 or so meters from the shore. You see the group staring at where you dove into the water, confused and concerned.

"Over here guys!" You shout at the group to get their attention. They look up to see you much further away than they expected.

"Hey, you weren't kidding!" Spencer laughed.

"We might have to have ourselves a little competition little miss mermaid!" You laugh at Derek's new nickname for you.

You do a few strokes to bring you back to shore as you climb out of the water. You slick your hair back out of your eyes as you wring your hair out.

"Alright Spencer! Your turn!"

You giggle as you grab his hand and drag him towards the rocks.

"Umm yeah this is definitely not a good idea. You clearly know what you're doing, but I will definitely hurt myself. Did you know that drownings are the third leading cause of unintentional deaths?"

"Stop being such a party pooper! Loosen up a bit. Now climb." You cross your arms giving him a look that lets him know you mean business.

"If you fall, your knight in shining armor, Y/N will catch you!" Derek shouts from his spot where he's swimming in the lake. JJ and Penelope are watching from a float shaped like a giant unicorn. Typical Penny.

"Shut up, Derek!" Spencer shouts back at him.

You can tell that he's actually nervous, and not just unwilling to participate, so you decide to climb up after him.

"How about we go together?" You smile at him.

"Can we do that?" He asks, clearly not believing you.

"Yeah! See how there's a plank of wood on the bottom here? There's room for both of us to stand. And then we just hold onto the rope. We'll back up to get some momentum, then right when we get to the edge, we'll hop on the rope ok. But make sure to let go before it swings back towards the rocks."

The look he's giving you says he still doesn't think this will work.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a quick squeeze. "Do you trust me?"

You see the anxiety wash away as he's overcome by comfort. "Yeah, I do actually" he smiles, squeezing your hand back.

"On three okay? One...two...three!"

Before you know it, the two of you are landing in the water. You both come up for air as he starts a splash fight with you. You're both giggling and splashing like little kids, but having the time of your life. You feel water peg you in the back of the head. You turn around to see Hotch and Rossi armed with oversized water guns, peeking out from behind the trees on the shore.

"Hey that's not fair! We're unarmed!" You shout at the two men.

"Come join our team!" Rossi yells back. You and Spencer look at each other confused. You look up to see Alex carrying four water guns out to the water toward Derek, JJ, and Penny.

You and Spencer turn to each other, each with a huge grin. "Oh it's on!" You say.

"It's so on!" he replies before you both make your way onto shore as quickly as possible. Hotch and Rossi hand you each a weapon and the war commences.

After a long fight, the team in the lake finally surrenders. Your team is the clear winner.

"Winner's get dinner first!" Rossi shouts before the four of you make a mad dash for the cabin. You grab your towel, guessing that Alex had laid it out for you, as you see the other ladies' towels laid out as well well. Rossi had the dinner on warmers, so it's all ready for you. As the four of you take your plates full of food to the dining table outside, you pass your opponents. A series of snickers and goofy faces ensues as your team teases them endlessly.

You felt so comfortable around all of them. For people with such serious jobs, they sure do know how to let loose and have fun.

A/N:

I hope everyone is still enjoying it! I know it's a slow burn but it's so cute right 🥰I plan on picking up right where we left off! Please reblog or comment if you liked this chapter! I love hearing feedback!

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chaletnz · 3 years

Text

Tohoku Region: Sendai Castle & Yamagata

I woke up around 6am since I was unable to use my JR pass until after 10am (the ticket collection office only opened at 10am), so I needed to find alternative activities to cross off until then! I walked up a very steep hill to the Sendai Castle Ruins which was mostly just a few statues and a great view over the city. It seemed to be a popular jogging route as there were many people out early to get their exercise in but it was still very peaceful and quiet at the top. I went back for a shower and a sit down before preparing my day bag and then going for my first coffee in Sendai at Sendai Coffee Stand (maybe now it is also called Burger Lover). Annoyingly the first train to Yamagata was at 10.08 but I didn't think I'd have time to get the pass and get on the train within 8 minutes so I opted to sit in and enjoy my coffee and wait for the 11.18 train instead. The owner, Shinsuke, proudly made a latte and introduced himself. I gave him a stamp card I had in my wallet for Niseko Mountain Kiosk. He had a wall covered in stickers and business cards from cafes all over the world and he placed the one I'd given him up there too, and gave me one of his business cards in return. I walked to Sendai Station and collected my 5 day JR Tohoku Pass and hopped on the Senzan Line to Yamagata with some more reading material. My plan for the day was set, Yamadera (the mountain top temple) and then a nice looking trek around Omoshiroyama Kogen Gorge and then we'll see what time it is! Unfortunately while the shinkansen trains are frequent enough, all of these local lines only run about once an hour and some destinations I want to visit also require a bus to get to them so actually it will take more careful planning and very early mornings in order to get the main sights checked!

After riding through the noisiest tunnel with the tracks screeching, we emerged within the mountains and actually the train almost made it to Yamadera on schedule but I still needed to race to make up the time. I went as fast as I could and puffed myself up the 1000 steps to the temple. The first 400 felt like nothing but then it was tiring and by 700 it was really tough. I managed to reach the temple in only about 10 or 15 minutes and take some photos before racing back down to make the train back at 13.16. I rode one stop back and then was on track to do the 90 minute trek around the gorge. Once I arrived at the station I followed a sign and a track that promised a waterfall. It was a short walk of about 10 minutes, I sat on a rock by the water and ate my pizza bun for lunch then walked back up, unable to see another track this way without crossing the river. I stepped my full shoe into a mud puddle so then had to plunge it into the river to clean it, and completely soak it in the process. I followed some signs towards pictures of waterfalls that didn't really make sense which wasted my time to where I only had an hour left before the train would come. I found a track and followed it, although I could see that I probably wouldn't get very far as I would have to turn around after about 30 minutes. I gave it about 20 minutes and quickly realised that I wouldn't see too much from way up here, so I headed back down and climbed up an abandoned ski lift tower that was conveniently on this track too! The train station vending machine was completely out of all decent drinks including water so I had to settle for a Coke Zero - at least it has 0 calories... The slow screechy train took me back to Sendai with some annoying teenagers opposite me taking photos out the windows the entire journey on their iPads. I booked myself a seat on the earliest bullet train to Aomori tomorrow and then had a bit of a wander around Sendai, buying a few things at Uniqlo and a bag of pick and mix cookies from Aunt Stella that smelled so good I couldn't resist! I walked back through the arcades to my capsule hotel stopping only for a Family Mart spicy fried chicken (Fami Chiki) and a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream as dinner and dessert. The next two hours were spent planning my day in great detail down to the minute with all train transfers sorted out, as that had been my downfall today.

#Japan #Sendai #Yamagata

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everwitch-magiks · 4 years

Text

dance with somebody (ch. 15)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 14

Whiskey can't quite keep his hands from shaking as he types out the message. He reads through it once, changes a couple of words and then briefly considers adding some sort of emoji. He doesn’t. Instead, he makes himself hit send before he has the time to lose his nerve.

I'll be driving to Boston on Sunday to take care of a couple things, wanna come with? Figured I might as well make a day out of it.

Within a minute, he gets the notification for a reply.

sounds like fun. do I get to choose the music?

Sure. Pick you up around eight?

Whiskey doesn't let himself reread that message until after he's sent it. God, it almost sounds like he’s making plans for a date. No, actually – it sounds exactly like plans for a date. So much for the whole charade of pretending that some mundane errand is his main reason for their outing.

ugh, so early? I'll be requiring a cappuccino, Annie's or bust.

When Miguel lets himself into the passenger seat of the truck Sunday morning, greeting Whiskey with nothing but a yawn and tired smile, Whiskey merely nods towards him as he silently hands him an Annie's take away cup.

"Oh, thank God." Miguel takes a sip, closing his eyes briefly. "Don’t you sleep in, like, ever?"

"Not really," Whiskey admits. He starts the truck and puts it in reverse. "I was at the gym this morning."

"Of course you were," Miguel mutters. "Man, if I was half as serious as you about anything, I'd… Oh."

Whiskey glances towards him. Miguel has opened his eyes again, and for some reason he seems to have zeroed in on Whiskey's hands.

"What?"

"Nothing." Miguel looks away abruptly. "Never mind me. Eyes on the road.”

Whiskey does look back ahead, but raises both eyebrows curiously. Miguel clears his throat lightly. He digs his phone out of his pocket.

“I’m loving the retro chick vibe of this truck, but I’m guessing bluetooth’s out of the question? Is there an aux cord?”

“Retro chic,” Whiskey parrots back, amused enough to let whatever just happened slide. “Yeah, you can plug in right there.”

“It’s all about the aesthetic, man.” Miguel grins, tapping merrily on his phone. “Okay. I’ve got no idea what you usually listen to, but this playlist’s got lots of different genres.”

After the first three songs have all been Panic! At The Disco, Whiskey feels the need to make a couple of chirps on the definition of the word different, but then the next three tracks are Billy Joel and Robyn and Blackpink, respectively. It turns out they’re both big fans of The Script and have actually both seen them live on the No Sound Without Silence tour, albeit not at the exact same concert. Miguel waves his hands in excitement as goes off on various tangents about which songs he loves the most and exactly why, almost spilling coffee all over himself at one point, and there’s more than one moment where Whiskey laments the fact that he really must keep his eyes on the road.

By the time Whiskey hits the turn signal for their exit, he’s almost starting to relax a little. So far, so good.

“Hey, I almost forgot,” Miguel says. “You never said where we’re actually going?”

“Boston,” Whiskey supplies ambiguously.

“Ha, ha. Where in Boston?”

“A presently undisclosed location.” Whiskey glances briefly at Miguel. “It’s a surprise.”

He catches Miguel’s soft smile before he has to look back ahead.

“A surprise, huh?”

“Yeah.” Whiskey tries to keep his tone somewhat neutral. “I wanted to… Yeah.”

“I thought you had stuff to do?”

“I mean, surprising you isn’t not doing stuff,” Whiskey argues, even though he knows that’s only a backwards way of admitting that Miguel’s got it right. “It’s just… Other stuff.”

For the first time all morning, he’s glad he doesn’t need to meet Miguel’s eyes.

“Depends on the surprise, doesn’t it?” Miguel teases. He sounds pleased. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll just have to figure it all out, anyway.”

“Get ready to figure out the first part.” Whiskey pulls into a parking lot. “Here we are.”

“There’s a second part? You know, I’m almost starting to think… Oh my God. Pancakes!”

Whiskey grins. Miguel actually sounds pretty excited.

“How did you know that I haven’t had breakfast?” Miguel questions eagerly.

“You rolled out of bed with less than a minute to spare and put on the first thing you saw in your closet,” Whiskey says matter of factly. He turns off the ignition. “You’ve literally told me that’s your normal routine.”

“I mean, kind of.” Miguel smiles playfully. “But hey, at least you still get to enjoy these effortlessly good looks. Not everyone can look this cute without even really trying, you know.”

“Well,” Whiskey says quietly. Finally, he gets to look over and meet Miguel’s eyes properly. “Fair point.”

Miguel bites his lower lip. Suddenly, his gaze is intent on Whiskey.

“Is this… Too public? Or can we, um. Y’know.”

Whiskey throws a quick glance outside the truck. The parking lot is empty, thank God – quickly, he leans over. It’s a brief kiss, over almost before it’s begun, but Whiskey still feels Miguel’s soft lips smile against his own.

“Come on,” Whiskey mumbles. There’s two more steps to his carefully crafted plan, and he intends to see them both through. “Pancakes. On me.”

The menu at iHOP is ridiculous, but not more ridiculous than the smile on Miguel’s face when the waiter presents him with his mountain of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and bacon. Unsurprisingly, it’s completely adorable.

The drive over to their second destination is brief. They’re still several blocks away when, suddenly, Miguel goes very quiet.

“Almost there,” Whiskey says, in an attempt to fill out the silence. And just like that, he’s nervous all over again. “You, uh. You good?”

“Are you kidding?” Miguel says incredulously – a good kind of incredulous, if his tone is any indication. “I don’t believe you. Is this really where we’re going?”

“I thought you might like it,” Whiskey says carefully. “They’ve got this new exhibit that’s just opened, it’s the Indo-pacific-”

“Coral reef,” Miguel interrupts eagerly. “Yes, I know, I’ve literally got their tweets on alerts. It sounds amazing. And they’ve got this big ocean tank that’s four storys high, you can walk all around it and see every part from a different angle, plus they do absolutely incredible work with their sea turtle rescue program.” He grins widely. “I love the New England Aquarium.”

“Oh. Well, good.” There’s plenty of available parking space, still, since the aquarium has only just opened. Whiskey gets them a spot close to the entrance. “I’ve actually never been.”

“Then you’re in for a treat.” Miguel is already undoing his seatbelt. “Come on! I can’t wait to show you everything.”

When Miguel said everything, he wasn’t kidding. They spend over half an hour at the first exhibit, since Miguel apparently needs to explain in exact detail why the Amazon rainforest is actually one of the most diverse habitats in the world, and then a whole hour goes by as they watch a pair of sea lions swimming and playing with absolutely stunning control and flexibility. By the time they get to the big ocean tank, Whiskey feels like he’s learned more about marine creatures in a couple of hours than he thought he might in his entire life.

It’s surprisingly interesting. And listening to Miguel ramble about it, his eyes shining with unfiltered excitement, is unsurprisingly captivating.

They sit down on a bench on the third floor, where they have a good view of the tank just below the surface. There’s not a lot of other guests around, probably because of the feeding that’s happening over at the tank with the baby sharks. Whiskey glances to his side just as a surprisingly huge sea turtle swims by them at a leisurely pace, watches Miguel’s lips soften into a perfectly gentle, content smile.

If Whiskey could have orchestrated every detail of his ideal moment to proceed with the third and final step of his plan, it would’ve looked a lot like this.

He clears his throat lightly.

Miguel looks over towards him, a little expectantly.

Whiskey hesitates.

God, he must do this. He must. Even if this is where he fucks it all up, his future self deserves to remember this as a moment in his life when he faced all of his fears head on in pursuit of real happiness. He needs to let himself try, to allow himself this one moment of mortifying vulnerability.

“Do you-”

“Can I-”

Whiskey falls silent abruptly. Miguel blinks, looking equally startled.

They both smile.

“You, first,” Miguel says gently.

“Okay.” Whiskey takes a steadying breath. “I was hoping we could talk about, um. About this. About us?”

He makes an awkward gesture between them that’s probably not at all necessary for Miguel to understand his meaning.

“Sure,” Miguel agrees. He’s still smiling, albeit not quite as softly as before, and there’s an undertone of apprehension as he continues. “Based on the past few hours, I’m guessing I’m not actually about to have my heart broken, here?”

“No. I hope not.” God, Whiskey wishes that he could dare to get his hopes up at those words. Of course, he can’t. He already knows perfectly well that Miguel isn’t indifferent to him, per say. That’s not what he’s been so afraid of finding out. “Miguel, I like you so much. I like being with you, just like this, so much. You’re kind of always on my mind, lately, and it’s all really just so… So great. You’re really, really great.”

“Okay,” Miguel says slowly. His tone is all apprehension, now. “I’m sensing a but, here. You’re not looking to date right now, is that it? Or are you just not looking for a boyfriend at all? Or-”

“No,” Whiskey interrupts hurriedly. “Fuck, no, not at all. Miguel, if you wanted to be my boyfriend, I’d be so happy.”

“Oh.” Miguel blinks. “You… Really?”

“Yes.” Whiskey swallows. “I… Yes. Really.”

“Huh.” Slowly, Miguel’s lips curl into another smile. “Wow. That’s... Okay.”

Whiskey allows himself a moment to smile back. God, what he wouldn’t give for things to actually be that simple.

“Okay,” he says, trying to get back on track. “So, the thing is-”

“Ah, I knew it,” Miguel cuts in, almost playfully. “There is a but, isn’t there?”

Whiskey grimaces.

“I mean. Sort of?”

“Right.” Miguel’s smile dims again. “Sorry, sorry. I’m listening.”

“It’s not too bad,” Whiskey says, even though it honestly absolutely is. “I, um. You see.”

Miguel watches him expectantly.

“I guess I don’t want to come on too strong, here, and start talking about our lives several years from now,” Whiskey begins, testing the waters a bit.

Miguel raises his eyebrows slightly, but looks otherwise unruffled. So, like, that’s not a terrible reaction.

Whiskey takes the plunge.

“I just need you to know that I’m not sure if I’ll ever actually come out, publicly. Right now, I honestly don’t think so.”

“Ah,” Miguel says. “You mean… Ah. Okay.”

Whiskey waits. Miguel’s expression is infuriatingly unreadable.

“Good to know,” Miguel finally settles on. “That’s not a deal breaker for me, exactly. I’m just not sure if I’d want to keep something like this from absolutely everyone. I honestly don’t think I could.”

“I couldn’t do that, either,” Whiskey says, surprising himself a little bit. Still, it’s the truth. “I’d want to tell my two best friends.”

“You would?” Miguel asks, almost smiling. “Have I met them?”

“Yes, actually. Tango and Ford.”

“So you’re out, to them?”

“Not yet,” Whiskey admits. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and I… I’d want them to know about us.”

“Okay,” Miguel says. He sounds hopeful. “I’d want my best friend to know, too. I’ve known him all my life, so I trust him completely. And I want to tell my closest family.”

“Okay,” Whiskey agrees. It surprises him a little, that the mere thought doesn’t make him panic. “I don’t mind that.”

“I’ll be very clear that they can’t tell anyone else,” Miguel adds gently. “I’m sure they can handle that.”

“If you trust them, I trust you,” Whiskey reassures him. “Actually, it’s sweet. That you’d want them to know.”

“Of course I would.” Miguel smiles briefly. “Are you, uh. Are you close with your family?”

“Not… Not exactly.” It’s not a question Whiskey was expecting. “They’re very, um. Very traditional. I guess I usually go home for holidays and so on, but we don’t really talk a lot in between. I certainly don’t have plans to come out to them. One of my cousins knows, though. Beth. And actually, she’d kind of murder me if I didn’t tell her about you.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Miguel tilts his head a little. “Are you out to anyone else?”

“A couple of people,” Whiskey admits. “Dex, our team captain, probably knows the most. He even knows about you. It’s actually his truck that I borrowed, today.”

“Yeah?” Miguel says. He sounds oddly pleased. “That’s cool. Anyone else?”

“This guy that I, um. That I hooked up with a few times last semester.” Whiskey clears his throat awkwardly. “And Bitty, our captain last year, although he found out accidentally. Oh, and you. Although I guess that’s completely obvious.”

“I’d say I’m aware, yeah,” Miguel agrees cheerfully. “You know, I actually ended up googling that former captain guy, Bitty, after the hockey party. His fiance is kind of a really big deal in hockey, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Whiskey agrees. “He’s the first openly gay male NHL hockey player, and a Stanley Cup champion.”

Miguel hums. “There’s really no one else, in the NHL?”

“Not yet, no.” Whiskey takes a breath. “And I’m honestly not too inclined to be the second.”

“Right,” Miguel says. He sounds less startled than Whiskey expected him to. “You know, that thought actually crossed my mind when you first told me about wanting to go pro. Even though you weren’t actually out to me then. I’ve heard some really questionable things about locker rooms in hockey.”

“I’ve heard my fair share of questionable things in those locker rooms.” Whiskey sighs. “It’s part of why I have so much respect for Bitty and Zimmermann. They’re really important to a lot of queer hockey people out there, and they’ve done so much to make things better. If Zimmermann wasn’t the only out player in the league, that would really change things for both of them. But I’m, I just… I want to play hockey. There’s nothing else I care about as much. But that doesn’t mean that I could do what they do, or that I’m prepared to go through everything they’ve overcome. Maybe that makes me selfish, but it’s just how I feel.”

Miguel hums.

“I get that,” he says. There’s a weight to his words that feels significant, somehow. “If I’m honest, I don’t know if I could do that, either. It’s actually a relief, in a way, that you’re not asking me if I’d be prepared to face that alongside you.”

Whiskey turns to look at Miguel properly. He wasn’t expecting that.

“I’ve never thought of it that way,” he admits. “I was too busy worrying that you’d be against the idea of not being completely open about… About us.”

Miguel meets his eyes steadily.

“It’s really okay, Whiskey. I don’t need to kiss you for all the world to see, so long as I know where we stand.”

“Yeah?” Whiskey asks. And for the first time since they’ve sat down, he finds himself smiling. “That’s, uh. That’s really great. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Miguel says gently. “So. I guess this means it’s my turn, now?”

Whiskey blinks. Right. Miguel had been trying to say something, too.

“Sure, yeah,” he agrees. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t worry, okay? It’s genuinely nothing bad.”

“Alright.”

Miguel takes a breath. Apparently, whatever the not-bad thing is, he’s still nervous to say it. Which isn’t at all alarming.

“So, you know how I’ve been hoping to get a room at the water polo frat?” Miguel begins tentatively. “I’ve kind of changed my mind about that, a little bit. I love my team, but I already see them all the time, and the reason I want to move out of the dorms is so that I can have a space that’s more my own. Somehow, I don't think I'd feel that way with all my idiot teammates around.”

“Good instincts,” Whiskey interjects. “I could tell you stories.”

Miguel smiles.

“I’ve actually found a small apartment just off campus that’s surprisingly affordable. I think it might be because the layout of the kitchen area is, like, so impractical that it’s got to be on purpose, but I could definitely make it work.”

“Well. Sounds like a good option.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna take it,” Miguel says carefully. “It’s, um. It’s actually no more than a ten minute walk from your hockey house. And it’d be, you know. Something a little more private.”

“Oh,” Whiskey says. He frowns slightly. “You really don’t have to do that, for me.”

“I’m not only doing it for you,” Miguel reminds him firmly. “Like I said, I want something that’s more my own place. This seems like my best option.”

“Well,” Whiskey says, considering. “If you’re sure. It, uh. It does actually sound really nice. I think I might visit you quite a lot.”

“You’d be more than welcome to,” Miguel says. He grins. “Hey. Can I say something?”

Whiskey blinks.

“You just did, I think?”

“Yeah, well.” Miguel grins a little wider. “See, I don’t want to come on too strong, here, and start talking about our lives several years from now. Sounds familiar?”

“... Oh.” Whiskey feels startled in the best way possible. “I guess?”

“It’s just… If I had a wishlist, eventual cohabitation would probably be somewhere near the top.” Miguel tilts his head a little. “Just thought I’d put that out there.”

“Yeah?” Whiskey manages, a bit unsteadily. “I, uh. I’d definitely be open to having that conversation. At some point.”

“Okay. Cool.” Miguel averts his gaze for a second, looking back at the ocean tank before them. His smile, Whiskey thinks, is perfectly lovely. “So. Do you... Should we head back?”

Whiskey frowns. He’s more than aware of the fact that there’s several exhibits they haven’t even gone anywhere near, yet. Miguel must know that, too.

“Isn’t there stuff left to see?” he wonders, a little unsurely.

“We can come back,” Miguel says quickly. He turns back towards Whiskey, and there’s a look in his eyes that immediately earns him Whiskey’s full attention. “Right now, I’d rather just be somewhere a bit more... Somewhere we can be alone. And my roommate’s actually gone for the weekend, so. I was thinking…”

Oh.

Whiskey gets to his feet.

They don’t waste any time making their way back to the truck. Whiskey starts the ignition, his mind occupied with calculating how long the drive might take. As he puts the truck in reverse and starts backing up, Miguel makes some sort of noise next to him.

Whiskey glances over, surprised to find that Miguel’s expression is… Tense. Or something.

“Never mind me,” Miguel mutters through his teeth. “Just, um. Just drive.”

It reminds Whiskey of what Miguel had said to him that same morning, after he’d gone oddly quiet and… Stared at Whiskey’s hand on the gearshift. Huh.

Whiskey pauses after backing up. He raises both eyebrows in question.

“Oh, fuck you,” Miguel says, his weak tone a definite contrast to his choice of words. “Look, it’s really stupid. You’re gonna think I’m an idiot.”

“I mean, maybe,” Whiskey allows. He still doesn’t keep driving. “Does it help if I promise not to take the piss?”

“Persistent, aren’t we?” Miguel mutters. He sighs. “Ugh. Fine. It’s just… You drive stick.”

Whiskey blinks.

“Is that, like… A whole thing for you?”

“Oh, shut it,” Miguel grumbles. “This is hardly my fault, okay, I really can’t be blamed for being stupidly attracted to you.”

Whiskey probably shouldn’t smile as widely as he does – he literally just promised Miguel that he wouldn’t make fun of him. “Stupidly, huh.”

“Well, yes!” Miguel exclaims. And suddenly, it’s like a pair of proverbial floodgates have opened. "Did you know that every time you open your ridiculously hot mouth in class and something highly intelligent spills out, I die a little bit?”

Whiskey blinks. Fuck. If there’s one thing in this world that he didn’t know, it’s definitely that.

Miguel continues before he has the chance to respond.

“And God, you couldn’t warn a guy before making me watch you dominate that hockey game like you single-handedly invented skating? Believe me, I am sincerely, stupidly into you – you with your ridiculous face, and that brain, and those muscles, Jesus. You are quite literally the whole package and it's honestly so completely infuriating.”

Whiskey swallows. He can’t seem to look away from Miguel, who is actually glaring at him, now, and that shouldn’t be the best thing that’s happened to Whiskey all day. And it kind of isn’t better than their pivotal conversation earlier, if Whiskey thinks about it logically and rationally, which he would absolutely do if Miguel wasn’t looking at him like that.

“Right,” Whiskey finally manages in response. “Gotcha.”

Miguel narrows his eyes.

“Listen,” he says. His voice is low, and raw, and determined. Whiskey’s breath hitches. “You’re going to drive us back to campus, and I’m going to take you up to my room, and, if you'll let me, I’m going to spread you out on my bed and make you feel every deliciously bittersweet moment of frustration that I've suffered on your account. God knows you've deserved it."

“Um.” Whiskey swallows, twice, and then attempts a deep breath. His brain might have short-circuited a little bit. “Is this a good time to mention that you talking like that is kind of really doing it for me?”

“No,” Miguel says evenly, despite the fact that Whiskey can see the clearly pleased smile tugging at his lips. “Just, for God’s sake, Whiskey. Drive. Now.”

Whiskey forces himself to look back ahead. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Miguel follow the movements of his hand as he carefully changes gears.

Boston, Whiskey thinks dizzily, is entirely too far away from Samwell.

(ch. 16)

#check please #omgcheckplease #connor whisk #whiskey #whiskey x oc #OC: miguel #my babies #you guys #look at them #dance with somebody #evie writes #fanfiction

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hey, lovely!! Do you have any Johnlock or Mystrade fics with one of the them having a disability? I'd also appreciate any genderswap fics that you may have, regardless of their topic. I find the lack of femlock disturbing :)

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Hi! I have been in the mood for some good whump fics lately. Would you happen to know of any that include sherlock getting a life changing disability (paralysis, amputation, blindness, deafness, loss of speech, etc…) Thx

Hi Lovely and Nonny!!

Ahh, I’m so sorry, I don’t have a LOT of fics, and the ones I do have are only Johnlock (don’t really care for Mystrade so I don’t read it), and I haven’t read any femlock so sadly I don’t have personal recs, though you can check out my blog tag to see what I do have on my blog. SO SORRY!

And Nonny, your ask came just in time for this post, so I’m attaching your ask to this one, because this whole list is any of the disabled fics I have, and I’m also linking you to the recs I have for Deaf/Mute/Blindness since you asked for them, though I believe I’ve added them all to this list… In case I didn’t, you can check out those lists too

DISABILITIES or MEDICAL CONDITIONS (Apr. 2020)

See also:

Deafness

Deaf/Mute/Blind Sherlock/John (Dec 2019)

New World, Old Words by thedeafwriter (G, 641 w., 1 Ch. || Deaf Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Always John) – It was disconcerting to experience. One second, he was laying on the table, breathing in the gas that would make him sleep, the next, he was dragging his eyes open to look around the bright room, trying to wake up.

Angel by MrsNoggin (T, 1,513 w., 1 Ch. || Winglock, Friendship, Chromoesthesia, Drugging) – John is an angel. That can be the only explanation. A response to the challenging request for a realistic wingfic one-shot.

One in Ten Thousand by Blind Author (K+, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TGG, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Discussions of Violence, Worried then Curious Sherlock, Scars/John’s Bullet Wound, Medical Anomolies) – John seems to have unusual mobility for a shoulder wound…

Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil by PipMer (T, 1,895 w., 1 Ch. || Deaf John, Mute Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Fluff and Angst, Character Study, Morse Code, Love Confessions) – John is deaf. Sherlock is mute. There are no two people more suited for each other.

Those Days by StillWaters1 (T, 2,663 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD / Sensory Attacks, Caring Sherlock) – If Sherlock had danger nights, then these were John’s danger days.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomolies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John’s chest, right at his heart, and shot.’ Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w., 3 Ch. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn’t always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation, Diabetes) – John “Five Oceans” Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Autistic Sherlock, Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say:Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w., 34 Ch. || Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis/Disabilities, Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Drug Use, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it’s a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

On Pins And Needles Series by 7PercentSolution, J_Baillier (E, 598,184 w. across 15 works || Sick Fic/Medical Realism, Guillain-Barré syndrome, Autism Spectrum, Medical Procedures, Whump, Romance, Slow Burn, Big Brother Mycroft, Mental Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama, Friends to Lovers, See Story for Additional Tags) – His immune system is decimating his nervous system - a civil war raging inside of him. Is there a reaction he’s supposed to be having to this news, now? Something normal: cry, scream, pound the wall? Shake his fist at the uncaring universe? John can’t stop this. An uncomfortable bed at some hospital ward isn’t going to stop this. They keep telling him that this will most likely pass, but no one is answering the most important question: how will he be able to endure the uncertainty and the long wait? (TO READ)

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #disabilities #my fic recs #hgranger414 #medfics #sick fics

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miraculouscontent · 4 years

Note

Pokemon anon again! I'd like to hear anything you have strong opinions on (either your personal ships, ones you dislike, etc). I just really like reading your thoughts, so whatever you feel like sharing is fine.

Welcome back, Pokénon!

And sure, I can do that!

Alright, so in terms of ships I dislike (I’m going to go with the English names just so I’m not constantly using both names)...

I guess I should get the obvious ones out of the way, because I’m not really a fan of either “Ash ship” extreme:

Poke//Shipping (Ash X Misty) and Amour//Shipping (Ash X Serena)

I don’t like either of them.

For Poke//Shipping, I have never liked aggressive tsundere characters and Misty is basically a textbook example of that. It’s not that I have a problem with strong/tomboy-ish (though honestly I don’t consider Misty a tomboy anyway) female characters, which I know it sounds like that when I have a distaste for characters like Alix too, but when they’re brash and angry and just so generically “TOMBOY GIRL POWER,” it grates on my nerves.

The idea of having an aggressive character - y’know - be aggressive to their love interest and then cue the sad music when the love interest argues with them or makes any sort of hurtful implication just... no.

Like, I want you to imagine the most sarcastic Clarity possible and then picture me as a little girl watching the scene where Misty is officially leaving the group, because that was literally just me like, “oh noooo, she’s goooone.”

It’s the same reason I don’t do Rocket//Shipping (James X Jessie). One character is too aggressive and the other character doesn’t even come close to balancing it out.

There’s also the fact that nothing comes out of Poke//Shipping. Misty is canonically crushing on Ash (*flashbacks to the friggin’ second movie where they shove it in your face*) but it’s just... there, not to mention that scene where Misty is talking casually to Ash like, “you and I will be married too someday,” which came completely out of left field and - whether for a joke or not - made little kid me very uncomfortable.

Like I said, it’s just there and doesn’t go anywhere, and Ash is already so oblivious that of course he wouldn’t get that Misty is in love with him. It’s basically a long-running gag of Misty pulling a surprised Pikachu face whenever Ash doesn’t understand that she likes him/wants to stay with him/literally wants anything specific from him.

As for Amour//Shipping, I did admittedly like it at first, but just--ugh, oh boy.

First, it’s shipping fanservice, kinda like Pokemon 2000 throwing a bone to the shippers except now it’s the whole two seasons. My followers know how I feel about fanservice just for fanservice and that’s basically all that Amour//Shipping is. That’s why Serena was already made to have met Ash when they were children; so the writers could get a “headstart” on all the blushy fanservice they could squeeze in on Serena’s end.

I fell off the ship sometime around Wulfric, particularly with the scene where Serena comforts Ash. Just that whole, “this isn’t like you,” and then trying to compare her contest losses to Ash’s battles as if Ash hasn’t been at this for seasons upon seasons and battles aren’t a completely different category because they involve actually watching one’s Pokemon get physically hurt (Pokemon battles are a sport, yes, but it doesn’t change anything; Ash also has a special Greninja so of course he’s going to be upset that having all this experience still isn’t enough to just sweep). Like, to relate to someone, yes, it helps to have something you can use as a mental comparison, but that comparison is (usually) supposed to stay mental.

Anyway, after Ash shouts at her because she doesn’t know how he feels at all (because she doesn’t) and he just wanted to be left alone (because he did), Serena throws snowballs at his face and that apparently helps make Ash feel better because Serena can do no wrong here and that just so happened to be exactly what he needed.

(I mean, that whole gym battle and what follows is already pretty trash but that solidified it for me. Basically everything XY&Z added were things I just didn’t care about.)

Oh, and Serena is also implied to steal a kiss from Ash at the very end of the season and you guys know how I feel about that. It’s mostly the fact that she’s so non-apologetic about it, just smiling and blushy and all happy whereas here’s me like, “Wait, I’m pretty sure we just missed a crucial step here??? Since when were you sure that Ash had a thing for you???”

So yeah, I’m not a fan of either ship. I have vague opinions about basically all other ships (The ship between Ash and Iris aka ”You’re such a kid” girl can rot), but Poke//Shipping and Amour//Shipping are the ones I have the strongest negative feelings for.

Brock being shipped with basically anyone is a no no for me. The guy flirts with anything that moves and I have never found it funny or charming. The closest thing young me ever came to a ship with him was Luck//Shipping (Brock X Pike Queen Lucy) but that’s basically it, and it honestly could’ve just been me thinking the idea that Ash and Brock both getting together with Battle Frontier people (I was for Ability//Shipping - Ash X Sailor Maiden Anabel - at the time) was a neat idea and both episodes that featured the respective ships had BLUSH FUEL.

I recall being into Advance//Shipping (Ash X May) when I was young (I was a multishipper back then, you see) but I avoided thinking about it too much because I wasn’t a huge fan of Max (aka “Iris before Iris existed”) and Norman’s game counterpart infuriates me even to this day so I just didn’t want to imagine Ash having to deal with those sorts of things. Plus, looking back on it, he and May were little too similar (then again, maybe that’s why I liked it?).

I expected to enjoy Aurelia//Shipping (Ash X Lillie) when I was getting into the Sun&Moon seasons but it didn’t really do anything for me. I guess maybe I was so burnt out after Amour//Shipping that I wasn’t in a shippy mood anymore? Though, it could also be that their relationship isn’t as “balanced” as I would’ve liked.

Anyway though, as for the ships I actually really like instead of just being indifferent towards or outright disliking, the big one really is just Pearl//Shipping. I suppose it makes sense given that I’m not a multishipper, don’t like Brock enough to ship him with anyone, and most other travel companions are ones I either hadn’t gotten attached to or that I’d paired with Ash long enough that, once I got older, I couldn’t really picture them with other people because my memory of their moments wasn’t strong enough.

Yeah though, PEARL//SHIPPING, I ADORE IT. Like, I’ll try to explain it as best as I can without rambling, but basically:

Dawn doesn’t make excuses when she wants to go with Ash. No “my bike," no meandering, just really casual.

THEY SING THE JAPANESE OPENING TOGETHER AND IT’S RAD. “High Touch” is like, my favorite opening theme???? And they do a duet for it??? I just???? Yes???????

It’s the little things. High-fives are like, their thing. They traded Pokemon with each other which is like, really rare for the series and it made total sense. They both have a Pokemon they keep out of their Pokeball who doesn’t want to evolve (Piplup was the Eevee partner from Let’s Go before it was cool) and no, Misty’s Togepi doesn’t count because it was Gold and Silver’s posterchild. Ash and Dawn also both gave up a speedy physical Pokemon (Primeape and Ambipom respectively) so they could participate in some sort of Pokemon sport that doesn’t exist in the games while I scream in the background because I really like said Pokemon.

DAWN IS ASH’S CHEERLEADER. SHE LITERALLY CHEERS FOR HIM DURING GYM MATCHES. THAT’S PRECIOUS.

They help and get ideas off of each other, which I think is really cool. Them trading Pokemon just furthers that sort of dynamic.

Them just supporting each other in general. There’s a moment where Dawn takes a pretty harsh loss and Ash can be seen sulking like he really gets how she’s feeling.

It also helps that Diamond and Pearl were one of the better seasons of the anime. Paul is a solid rival, I really like the creative battle techniques like spinning and countershield, and just Chimchar in general honestly. I remember the baking episode “Cooking Up a Sweet Story!” vividly and all the feels it gave me.

Yeah though. It’s not any sort of OTP pairing or anything, but out of all of the anime Pokemon ships, Pearl//Shipping is probably my favorite. I’d probably ship them a lot more if they were a little older (like, on par with the protagonists of the Black & White games, who are closer to 14/15; it’s just easier to get a gauge on personality that way).

#non ml talk #other: ask and answer #((The Gen 4 seasons do have a few weird episodes obviously but basically all the seasons do.))#((I guess I don't think as much when I watch them (though I could roast XY&Z for DAYS) because the main media of the series is the games.))#((I liked Gen 5 the best in that case by the way.))#((Black and White and their sequels are my favorites.))

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silviasutton1989 · 5 years

Text

T.T.K. Chapter 22 “Say Cheese/You?!”

oA/N: Wow it’s been a while huh? Well in about 4 minutes it will officially be my birthday. Goodness! I remember last year being so determined to finish this be my birthday (insert face palm emoji here lol) Just one quick thing about this chapter the reason it has 2 titles is because I put a bit of an insert from chapter 23 Again hank you all for your support and if you are reading The Guest I should have Ch. 9 up before Monday I also plan to update my Masterlist soon.

Rating: Mature Audience only please

Word Count: 2700+ It’s a read...get comfy lol

Summary: With Mick captured what answers will Olivia and Liam get can they live with what the find out?/ Has Olivia finally found Boss?

The king's sleep were chancy these days. Since his father's murder the word "betrayal" never meant so much. Now it was like a bad taste in his mouth: static and tormenting. It wasn't until Liam followed his guards into Olivia's dungeon that his nightmares finally became reality. The sight alone knocked him back a step. There lying on a slab in a dark room was a large man riddled in small cuts from shoulder to ankle. It was the man from the photo, one of the men from the attack and if Bastien's theory was right, the man she hired to kill him. Could Olivia really do this? Could she be this dark? Would it be him on this table next? Then one question he'd been asking himself every night before sleep eventually took him, could she hate him this much?

"Why is he still restrained?"

"We were waiting for you, Your Majesty." Bastien states "He is the Duchess' henchman after all."

"Ha! I'm what now?" Mick wanted to cackle but he thought better to play this right.

"Are you willing to testify that Duchess Nevarkis hired you to assassinate me?"

"Red? Oh...oh yeah! That bi-- Boss hired me. Just look at what she did to me after fouling up the job. Just let me go, please and I'll tell you all the things she paid me to do to you."

"Your Majesty what are you doing?" Bastien cautions watching as his king struggles to unleash the hit man.

"If you all won't release him I will."

Mick tried his best to hide the grin growing. He was never one to leave a job unfinished and mere breaths away, freeing him no less, was one of his biggest yet unfinished jobs to date.

"Can I touch your belly?" Hana asks her hand already hovering over Riley's stomach .

"Sure but we won't feel her kick till a couple more weeks."

"Her?!!! It's a girl?!!!!!!!!" Hana squeals.

"We don't know that." Drake sits next to them at the breakfast table handing his wife a small fruit plate."Riley here is just wishful thinking, and also setting herself up for disappointment when she finds out my son is in there."

"Oh so who's wishful thinking now?" Maxwell chuckles sitting next to him "So how far along are you?"

"About 15 weeks. We have a doctor's appointment in 2 weeks to put this debate to rest."

"Well that's just in time for my soiree."

The friends at the table all turn to see Neville standing before them shifting from one foot to the other."I just---I wanted to invite you...all of you to my estate for my year end event."

"Ummm...." someone mutters as the gang all look to each other in confusion.

"Ril--I mean Duke and Duchess Walker. I would like to formally and personally invite you." He hands black envelopes sealed with boar sigil stamp. "You could come and announce whether Cordonia's 1st member of our next generation of royals will be a duke or duchess."

"You want to throw us a gender reveal?" Riley shakes her head in disbelief "What with the whole duel and--"

"Water under the bridge. Please come. I would like to make amends for how I've treated you...all of you." looking to them with humble eyes.

"Sure. We'll be there." averting from the seething look of her husband Riley focuses on the beaming smile of Neville as he heads to the next table.

"Sure?! Riley we are not going to that party. For as long as I've known that man he's never allowed me anywhere near Cormery Isle much less that party. It's probably a death trap."

"Drake's right." Maxwell chimes in.

"Thank you... Max." Drake's eyebrow raise in surprise.

"Yeah he's going to bore us to death!" Maxwell states opening the invitation to read it while Drake face palms "We'd have more fun spending New Year's in a broom closet. Neville usually only invites 1 st born royals you know those who are next in line to their family's title. He has NEVER invited me. Once I went thinking Bertrand's invitation was for me. BIGGEST mistake of my life. There wasn't even fireworks!"

"Look I hate to say this but Neville's right. This baby, boy or girl, will be the 1st of the next generation of royals and maybe that's why he's extending this olive branch. We can't be outcasts anymore Drake. We have to mingle with these people. We can't spend the rest of out lives cooped up in Valtoria."

Before Drake could argue Olivia was hovering before them her voice loud enough to command the attention of everyone in the room. Although everything about her outwardly looked in place her eyes seemed to say something entirely different as if her mind was worlds away.

"Good morning I know you all enjoyed the brunch. Look. I want to take a group photo so if you all would just-"

"Seriously Olivia, you could have allowed us to prepare." Madeline takes out her compact mirror checking the bags under her eyes, Tariq who's sitting next to her does the exact same thing.

"This isn't a cover shoot. I don't have time for ....just...." Olivia lets out a huff "Everyone get up and head over here...please." This was the courteous she could be given the fact she's spent the entire night carving Mick up like a chicken only to get useless information on Boss. Finally it occurred to her Mick was well aware of what Boss looked like so she came up with the idea of getting a photo of all the royals.

Everyone follows the duchess to a nearby staircase and slowly begin to get in place, Olivia moving those who would be hidden.

"Neville you have to come down at least 5 steps."

"But there's only women down there." He mutters

"I don't care I cant see you. Get Down!"

He reluctantly does, cringing with every snicker he hears deciding to leave the staircase entirely choosing instead to stand near the banister.

"Well since you are all here--except for King Liam, are we going to wait for him?"

"No his guards said he was indisposed. All right everyone get ready!"

Neville ignoring Olivia steps out to face the royals "I would like to invite you all to my soiree for New Yea--"

"Let me stop you right there. I'm sure I speak with everyone when I say hard pass Neville. I'd have more fun in a broom closet then at Cormery Isle."

"Hey I said that too!" Maxwell chuckles.

"Well-- well this will also be for our new Duke or Duchess of Voltaria it will be a...a..."

"A gender reveal." Riley aides.

"Yeah that." Neville looks off in frustration.

"The kid doesn't even have a gender yet and already you're making poor parenting choices." Olivia bites her bottom lip, vexed. It should not be this damn difficult to get a handful of people to stand still for 2 minutes. "I'll see if I can make it. Now quit moving...

"Wait don't forget to tel us when to say "cheese" so we will know to smile." Hana chides

"I don't care if you smile Just-"

"Well what kind of photo will that look like." Maxwell continues.

"1.2.3. Cheese . " Olivia quickly snaps the camera taking a quick look she sees that several men were not facing straight.

"Look. I'm only going to take this shot one more time. EVERYONE. Look this way or so help me I will gouge your eyes out with my stiletto, Got it?"

"Cheese!" everyone quickly responds.

The photo in her hand felt powerful, like an end to everything that has happened this year. Torturing Mick was cathartic in a since, Olivia had spent months being preoccupied with her mother's history and her own with the men in her life. Giving pain to someone helped release some of her own.

She's practically running through the large doors of the dungeon straight to the table where Mick was---gone.

Mick was gone. The table where he once lay stood there cold and empty. Olivia is frozen deciding that if she blinked hard enough he would still be there.

"Shit he got away!"

"No..he didn't" She jumps at the sight of Liam emerging from a dark corner of the room. "Olivia... we need to talk."

"Where is Mick? Where is he?" Olivia, hysteric and embarrassed, knew she should have came to Liam with Mick and the truth of what was going on but more than anything she wanted to figure it all out herself. To hand Boss to her king on a silver platter. To prove that neither of therm were their parents, or at least they didn't have to be. "He has to tell me who Boss is. Take me to him right now!"

"I can't do that." Liam turned away from her "I'm so sorry Liv. I'm so sorry I believed it was you behind all the attacks.

"Yeah...yeah I get it. My mom tried to kill your dad, your dad actually killed my mom. You'd be an idiot not to suspect me. But can we pause the apologies for just a moment someone in this photo is the actual Boss and Mick is the only person that can pick him out. So please wherever you have him just bring him back."

Liam didn't speak for a moment only staring away at the dark corner he entered from.

"He's dead Olivia." the kings words slow but powerful, so much so Olivia didn't believe she heard him correctly. Liam went on explaining what happened but nothing registered, her eyes glued to her photo.

"Your Majesty I think you should consider letting the guardsman handle this."

"I think you should mind you own damn business."Mick fires at Bastien then quickly going back to his best performance of a pained man "Come on, Your Honor, let me go. I will tell you everything you didn't know about Red."

Liam's hand stayed on the latch of the restraint. He took a moment to actually look at the man laying below him.

"I'm such an idiot." Liam chuckles " You think I don't know Liv?"

Mick nervously chuckles with the king shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah but she has a dark side...as you can see. The Bitch is crazy!"

"Never in a million years would Liv hire you. Even if she did want to kill me, the second you'd call her "Red" would be the second you would have been fired." Liam lets go of the restraint his smile wide and full of joy.

It was Mick's turn to laugh and he did it with ease, as if he wasn't still restrained to the table in a room filled with armed guards. "You know it took Red 2 seconds to look at me and know exactly what I was up to that night. You know she's the reason I didn't get to kill you when I had the chance. Didn't even get to make back into the room because Miss. Spitfire wouldn't settle down. I knocked her ass unconscious at least 3 times that night."

Mick laughed on as Liam took a step back hanging onto every word breathing them in like knowledgeable fresh air.

"Now I see why people want you dead. You're a horrible King! Just some some pathetic rich kid who gets to have other men--real men-- do your dirty work. The only person with some balls around here is Red. If your going to have them kill me get it over with I'm sick of looking at you!"

Mick became frantic, the longer the men watched him in silence the more fear crept in. But they don't move, the guards stand their ground all waiting for their king to command them.

"Oh sir rest assured these men wont harm you unless I order them to. And I have no intention on doing that" Liam states rolling up his sleeves scaling through the torture devices Olivia had left behind."I always knew Olivia had a dark side...I wonder just how dark I can be."

"...one thing lead to another..he... he told me about he did to you...and I..." Liam raised both his hands to show Olivia "I just wanted him to shut up. I...I didn't even realize what I had done until he stopped squirming in my hands eventually Bastien pulled me off of him. The guards took him away a while ago. I’ve been waiting here for you ever since.”

Olivia takes a long breath "I was going to solve this."

They grew quite again sitting in the dark room, but soon Liam starts to laugh.

"Is it crazy that I can't be upset by this? I mean yes we still don't know who's out to get me but..." He smiles brightly at the Duchess "I know who it isn't. And that means more to me than anything."

"Finding out I'm not the one behind the attacks is better to you than actually finding the scum?"

Liam nods his head yes as Olivia raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah that's crazy."

Liam chortles pulling her into his arms not wasting a second to crash his lips onto hers. She could feel the kiss growing and took a step back to catch her breath.

"One of these people are actually out to kill you." She shakes the photo in his face trying her best to look serious knowing she was blushing. He takes a second to look at but then tosses it onto the barren table, cupping her face in his hands looking deep within a eyes.

" Yes but it wasn't you. I don't give a damn what miserable person has this vendetta out against me. Probably someone who has been unhappy for a long time and will be unhappy long after me because they have nothing. But I have you.

Liam held her in his arms once more and she let him breath her in. This Liam, this happy person she hadn't seen in months, or ever.

Happy.

Someone who is unhappy.

She looked to the photo next to her. This time actually looking at it. There in the photo were all the faces she had known pretty much her entire life. All of them looking towards the camera, all of them smiling saying "cheese"...all of them but one.

Neville.

"Oh my God! We are fucking idiots! I know who Boss is!"

"What? Who?"

"Are you going to Neville's New Year's Party?"

"No one goes to that...you'd have more fun in a broom closet."

"Yeah but this year I think Neville is planning something more than just fireworks."

2 and a half weeks later

He was watching her.

she hadn't thought about that fact until she was already deep within Neville's mansion The faint music from his from his party a noticeable reminder that she is no where near safety. But she follows on making sure to stay a good distance from the masked man.

He was watching her.

She hasn't thought to question how long. How long has he been in the dark corner staring at her. Her only thought when seeing that mask, when their eyes finally did meet was that this man was Boss, it had to be.

As he turns down towards another wing of the home Olivia braces herself realizing the man knew she was fallowing him.

She could turn back around, run and get the guards..

No. 2 weeks of trying to convince Bastien Neville is Boss was enough. She needed proof and if it wasn't Neville, Boss sure as hell was at this party and tonight would be the very last night she'd call this coward behind a mask that name. Olivia was getting damn sick of that name.

The man quickly turns a corner and before the duchess trails behind she freezes. This is it. Once turning this corner she would face him. Breathing in deep her feet move before her mind. She edges around the corner taking in the full sight of him standing, waiting at the end of the hallway looking directly at her.

Hiding her gasp with a gulp she walks toward him forcing down ever fear that dared to creep upon her. "Who are you?" She asks.

Without hesitation he removes his mask and at the sight her heart stops.

"You?!" is all she can muster as if his face knocked the wind out of her.

His words the final nail into her makeshift coffin. "Hey, Cherry.".

Tagging: I tag randomly so if you would like to say tagged let me know if you never want to be tagged again let me know.

@walkerismychoice@darley1101@speedyoperarascalparty@mfackenthal@jadedpixiescribbles@boneandfur @andy-loves-corgis @blackcatkita@missevabean@snyggflicka@stopforamoment@agent-bossypants@endlessly-searching-for-you@indiacater@tmarie82@umccall71@hopefulmoonobject@choices97@blubutterflyy@fluffy-marshmallow-heart@itsmychoicebih@kinkykingliam@blznbaby@viktoriapetit@alicars@butindeed@greyeyedsmile14@gingerjane15@barbaravalentino@mymandrake@choicesbyjade@drakesfianceee@confessionsofabrokegirl@drakelover78@drakewalkerrosenberg@grumpycommoner@drakewalkerfics@choicesteamdrake@choicesfanficlibrary@alesana45@thequeenchoices @pug-bitch@drakewalkerwhipped@drakewalker8@gardeningourmet@jovialyouthmusic@walkerduchess @the-whiskeywife @sirbeepsalot @debramcg1106

#the true kings #the royal romance #olivia x liam #drake x mc #choices fanfiction #playchoices #fanfiction #trr fanfic

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elytrafemme · 2 years

Note

hi mare :D hope you're doin well!

i haven't done one of these in a while, life has been absolutely insane and i just couldn't find the time to be active on social media much or keep up with fics and stuff. now that things have kinda evened out i'm back for a little chapter review thing on every chapter that's come out (as of right now) since chapter 18. this is gonna be a VERY long ask, i already know now lmao sorry in advance but also buckle up, we're gonna be here for a while.

ch 19:

i loved the way you presented all the information in the beginning of the chapter, that was such a cool way to do that and the perspective and formality of it was really interesting and very different than how you've presented information before so i really enjoyed that!!

“You’re my brother, Tubbo. And I won’t let them take you away.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH THEYER HTLIUTERALY BROTHERS NADNJGALHLHAFJ FUCCKKKKK

clingyduo :( they mean so much to me oh my god, also just the way you write their whole friendship and the way that tubbo thinks about it and the way he thinks about tommy is just so accurate and subsequently devastating when he's sort of frantically trying to gather his thoughts and come up with what to say and how to say it and everything and its just kinda heartbreaking man

also the underlying tension between ranboo and tommy in this chapter is very well done. its enough to be stressful and to remind you that its entirely unresolved while showing that tubbo really doesn't know about it at all

“I’ll be anywhere you need me to be.”

i am going to cry real tears fuck you fuck you fuck you he cares so much and he loves so much and hes trying without being asked cause he just wants his friend to be okay, fuck you /lh

by the way there is a song called i exist i exist i exist by flatsound (its on the cs!beeduo playlist i made) that reminds me of them so much. it just occurred to me again and i wanted to mention it here cause of what happened with schlatt and everything. anyway these are the lyrics that i'm thinking of right at this moment:

Baby please, it's the way you speak

Forming words so easily

And I think of the way you think

It keeps me from falling asleep

In that grave I call a bed

Until you called me up and said:

"I haven't stopped crying

My father's been drinking

I need a place to stay

I don't want to be here

He's saying the words that

He promised he would never say

That liquid he consumes

Makes him speak the truth"

that part reminds me of the chapter ( i think its 15?) where tubbo goes home home and its bad and then ranboo comes and picks him up and tubbo has a breakdown and everything. anyway i'm just thinking about that right now and i needed you to know

anyway! reading tubbo's thoughts in this chapter was so goddamn sad, like the uncertain certainty (if that makes sense)?? and also seeing the whole "i'm definitely not gonna be here soon" and "but what if i get to stay?" ideas frantically switching back and forth i was just like :((

i'm worried for my boy

ch 20:

"Ranboo wishes he could take her pain from her. She deserves to be happy, and… and it’s payment, really, for Niki taking him in. He wishes he could do that for her, for Tubbo, for everyone."

ranboo again being the one of the most compassionate and supportive characters i've ever seen. hes got issues and is flawed but i'd be gravely wrong if i ever said he didn't care about everyone he loves with every fiber of his being

i loved the phone call scene, the whole talking about baking stuff and different types of cakes and stuff was sweet. i bake a lot and apprenticed under a chef in a professional kitchen for a year and a half so it was kinda fun to see that stuff talked about :) also ranboo has some based takes on baking, cupcakes are indeed the fucking worst pastry to make and angel food cake is better than sponge

WOAHDF WAIT I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE BAKING BIT AND THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN:

“You’d make a good husband.”

you caught me off guard there with that queer shit (i love them)

also:

“I… I hear spring is a nice time of year,” Ranboo says softly, half to himself.

In turn, Tubbo’s voice gets a little quieter, too. “Yeah?” and his voice is really nice, Ranboo realizes for the hundredth time. He wonders how Tubbo can even stand Ranboo’s voice, much less like it, especially in comparison. “I usually get allergies, but I’ll take your word for it, Boo. Spring wedding it is.”

“Spring wedding it is.”

i feel unwell i am going to die i am crumbling into dust and floating away in the wind as i write this oh my god they mean so much to me

idk what it is about finding out that ranboo can braid hair from that one bit about him braiding niki's hair before the funeral but it makes me happy

ranboo gender identity crisis, we love a relatable king

both quackity's and tubbo's speeches at the funeral :(

also the couple quackity is sitting next to might be karl and sapnap perhaps cause of the way the one person was comforting him? idk, im just speculating. also i dont remember if they've been mentioned before

"'We will all miss J Schlatt dearly,' the preacher projects"

im sorry but this is such a fucking funny sentence to me, its one of those that makes me think about the idea of really serious stuff being written about people with ridiculous names, probably because this is exactly that. anyway, serious moment but that bit was funny

FUNDY???

also i would love to know how you came up with ranboo's dead name, my guess is that it was a play on the heterochromia thing (editing this before i send it and i realized you actually sort of answered this in the chapter notes but i will leave it in here anyway)

the imagery and metaphors in that part where ranboo has a bit of a breakdown/trauma response/panic was fucking incredible, like holy shit. also it was very realistic, i genuinely think you wrote that bit absolutely perfectly.

"Ranboo knows one thing. The sea can’t take it away from him; no storm can change the tides of the universe."

this was my favorite line from this chapter i think. no storm can change the tides of the universe. that's quite devastatingly beautiful, isn't it?

"(The sea of memories is crueler than the river of Lethe but he reserves as much will as he can to wade through both.)"

this is a close second favorite, i just really love how its written

"God isn’t here, but Ranboo prays to It so he is spared from begging the universe, a much less merciful entity. It’s all an act of survival that Ranboo is miserable at, but he has to play because it’s him and it’s the universe and it’s God and it’s no other players, no allies."

DAMN.

"Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls starts playing, and the sound of a broken scream tears through the rain."

FUUUUUUUUCCCKKKKK. FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. OH MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING GOD.

yeah after the end of that chapter i feel closer to death than ive ever felt before. it was fantastically written and undoubtedly my favorite chapter so far. holy shit. also what the fuck. i feel like im fighting for my goddamn life. i feel ill. i feel insane. what the fuck. i am so fine i am totally okay and i am going to happily read the next chapter now knowing that everything is okay actually!

ch 21

"When Tubbo’s shaken awake by Tommy at ass o’clock in the morning, he already knows that today is going to be the worst day of his entire life ever, probably."

off to a good start i see! how promising!

"your boy" :((( yeah.

oh man, tensions addressed, resulted in even more tension. this is not looking good

also good to see that the not telling each other stuff is as frustrating as ever lmao, they both need therapy and also to just talk to each other i reckon. i know it wont happen (yet?) but still

"He knows that Quackity probably likes himself more when he’s overly energetic and loud."

Man :(

i do not know what to say about that phone call but i will very much be thinking about it for a while

the way that you address the whole they're still kids but never really got to be kids thing thats happened with everyone is so sad but i really like the way you did it. like the way that you write them thinking about it and the way that the adults around them talk about it. its a super important aspect of who they are and why they are the way that they are. thats not a super good way to express that thought but i cant find the right words right now so i'm just gonna hope you understand what i'm saying

dream mention, i do not think this is going to go well at ALL

it went better than i thought honestly but still terrified for what is yet to come!

also god, the tommy lore. if you ever decide to write a thing about c!tommy in the future i will be your #1 supporter however i do not think that i will ever recover from it

"Tubbo wonders if he’s ever truly been enough to save anybody."

fuck man :((

i think you handled the miscommunication between tommy and tubbo really well, and i just wanted to mention that. i dont have much else to say about it cause i don't know how to say it but honestly it was realistic and i totally understand why they said what they said and everything. well done.

well! now im caught up and everything so that's fun :)

these last few chapters were absolutely fucking phenomenal. i'm super excited for the next chapter :D hope you have the loveliest of days/nights/whenever you get around to reading this <3

HIIIII LIV HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI <33333

SUPER happy you liked how i handled the start of chapter 19, i knew a lot of people might have gotten confused because of the unreliable narration and also my own writing flaws so i thought have a refresher that also sort of served as a good chapter opener would be best! so happy people liked it :]

clingyduo and alliumduo have been difficult to write for this fic because what a lot of it comes down to is the fact that i have to be cognizant of the timeframe that both parties have known each other, take into account the general spats that happen in some longterm relationships, and sort of factor into how realistically all this pressure weighs down.

i told myself i wouldn't ramble for long but i do find this interesting: what i try to put myself in the mentality of writing cs!clingy is a lot of what you see in canon, but also the way that really longterm friendships can sometimes have these long festering periods of strain rather than a single one-and-done conflict, whereas a newer relationship like cs!allium can break a lot easier. it's something i've experienced and something i try to consider with the fic and have to sort of balance out-- you see a LOT of what you could consider highschool friendship problems in cs!allium (albeit at higher stakes) but you see a lot more of people growing apart (NOT SAYING THEY ARE NECESSARILY BUT JUST COMPARATIVELY) in cs!clingy.

I SHOULD RELISTEN TO THAT SONG BC I SEE UR VISION ABSOLUTELY i think that fits them i think it does :]

your boy will be okay <3 not any time soon or anything but at some point in the future maybe. jk jk unless...

CEDAR WITH THE STEEL CHAIR I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD BAKING EXPERIENCE THAT'S SO COOL!!!!! im so glad my takes were based i just bullshitted through that so im really happy to hear it! if u ever want YOUR baking takes expressed just like dm me and i'll throw them in somehow somewhere bc i feel like i may need those

they are so beloved to me and us all <3

DING DING DING!!! yep those are karl and sapnap :] CS was planned before i realized c!sapnap was a comfort character of mine so they dont get super involved but you'll see them again, whether you like it or not :>

I KEPT FORGETTING THAT I JUST MADE HIS FIRST NAME J HELP ME FDJHHJDF

there were so many different things that went into the naming tbh but you hit on one i dont think a ton of people mentioned so nice job :DDDD

im so so happy you liked all those quotes and writing btw i feel like im replying to this so disorganizedly but genuinely appreciate you so fucking much <333

i totally get you yeah, the whole concept of adulthood is one that i've tried to sort of throw in there but admittedly do think i could have built up better; regardless, i think there's a lot of angles to it but what i try to go for is like. when you are undergoing trauma the shittiest thing you hear so often is about your age, right? you're so mature you're like an adult you're acting like a kid you're too young to handle this ETC. i think cs!ranboo holds a lot of resentment towards the fact that people point out his age (something that i've thought about even after the events of cough syrup as a conflicting point between him and other characters but in general just kind of important to his worldview), while cs!tubbo is a lot more just... confused and a little annoyed at the sentiment. similar but kind of different, y'know?

i do have a few c!tommy-centered wips actually but he's a character im still kind of dipping my toes in the shallow side of the pool with

liv i would sell my soul for u i think

#long post #long post.#nightmare.ask #nightmare.cough-syrup #cough syrup spoilers #nightmare.fave #liv tag <3

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