#at this point i will never finish anything bc i just jump to the next idea

[evil-ontheinside]

Can I stop making up weirdly specific and totally unnecessary aus please? I do not need a byler Heidi au I am actually very well stocked with lots of other aus in my docs thank you

[ja3yun]

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.4

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: suggestive, heartache (lots of it), flirty heeseung bc i can't resist, angst, confrontations, pet names, ynjake are so obvious it hurts.

wc: 9.7k+

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. however, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

part 3 | part 5

a/n: so i was gonna stop this chapter earlier than it is here but I think having the last scene in this chapter makes sense! also I know nowt about physics so when they start talking about it just pretend it makes sense pls <3

In the guest room, Eunseo is deciding what to wear, it’s between her usual jeans and a crop top or playsuit she bought 2 years ago that she swears makes her look ‘snatched’. In your eyes, she always looks beautiful. “Why are you stressing? It’s just dinner.” 

“Um,” She looks at you like you have 12 heads, “YOU should be stressing, Heeseung and you are sat next to each other.” 

“Wait, what? We have designated seats?” You question.

Rolling her eyes she fixes her hair in the mirror, “Obviously, I mean, there are like 14 of us.” You knew that but no one came up with a breakfast seating plan so why now?

“I’m fine in this,” You look down at your midi dress and white cropped cardigan, “It’s simple and cute, and I am NOT trying to impress Hee.” You cross your arms to protest but Eunseo turns sharply and quips up, “You just called him Hee! That’s a nickname, see, destined to be.” If only she knew. In your defense, it was never that Heeseung was unattractive but Jaeyun was the only person you ever thought of, you didn’t have to think about anyone else. 

You point to the playsuit for her to choose. As she goes to get changed there is a knock at the door, “Come on in.” you say just lower than a shout and Mrs Sim walks into the room. Urgently, you stand up and brush yourself down, ironing out the creases as best you can, “Hi Mrs. Sim. What can I do you for?” 

“I’m just here to let you girls know that everyone is downstairs waiting for you.” She nods and eyes you up and down. “Tell Eunseo to hurry up please.” She smiles and goes to leave but you hold her arm to stop her.

“Why didn’t you use the money you saved up for this wedding?” You question, too impatient to wait and ask Heeseung later on. With a sigh she turns to you, cursing Heeseung’s name under her breath.

“She’s rich, I’m not, the family didn’t need my money.” Her face is screwed up, wanting to tell you more, wanting to tell you the truth, "Honestly, Y/N? We aren't thrilled with the wedding but at the end of the day it is happening. Nothing I can do."

“Mrs. Sim?” You call out to her as she is leaving, “I missed you.” 

Her shoulders slump but a smile adorns her face, “I missed you too, Y/N. More than anything.” As she finishes her sentence you rush to hug her tightly, making up for the lost years. “Shh.” Her hand strokes your back as you hold in your sobs, “You had your reasons,” Mrs. Sim pulls away and looks you deep in the eyes, “If those reasons don’t matter anymore, you should do what you think is best.” As you look at Jaeyun’s mother leave you take in her words and how she looked at you, like she was telling you a secret you didn’t know, and you’re still clueless. 

Eunseo emerges from the bathroom, dressed and ready for the night, “Ta-da!” 

You give her a thumbs up and a weak smile, “You look amazing.” She jumps happily and clasps her hands. “Then if we are both ready,” She reaches her hands to yours, “Let's go.”

Making your entrance to the dining room was weirdly calm, knowing you had Heeseung by your side set your mind at ease. Eunseo addresses everyone with a hello and bow and you follow, the whole family smiles and greets you. A single place next to Heeseung and…

Jaeyun.

“Shit” you mumble under your breath as you walk towards your seat, smiling at everyone as you pass. Heeseung’s hand strokes your hip, guiding you to your seat, “I was wondering when you were going to come down.” His smile dazzles up at you as you tuck your dress under and sit on the white satin seats. The set up for this dinner is a little fancy but this must just be how rich people did things.

“Eunseo takes forever to get dressed.” Playfully rolling your eyes you get comfy, ignoring the tempting presence to your right, but it’s harder than expected. Jaeyun is wearing beige trousers with a mint green jumper accented by a white collar, and he looks beautiful, like the sun on a cold winter day, “Hi, Jake.” 

His face frowns, not used to you calling him Jake, “Hello, Y/N.” His head tilts forward in your direction before facing forward pretending to listen to the conversation happening between his and Yeoreum’s parents. You want to reach out for his hand, tell him you missed him, tell him what a stupid mess you are, but as you stretch your hand out, Heeseung’s fingers interlock with yours. “Don’t” He whispers, pulling your body with his other hand to face him, “Focus on me, Y/N.” You nod and shift to Heeseung as he smiles, “You’re too close to the attentive members of the family, pretend I’m the one you want even for a few hours.” 

It takes all your will power but heading his advice, you focus on him. “Thank you, Hee.” 

Jaeyun hears it all, how Heeseung’s voice holds adoration, he sees how your fingers are intertwined. He is furious, his jaw clenched, and as much as he tries to remind himself he shouldn’t be possessive over you, it comes so naturally that he can’t help it. In every atom of his being, you are still his and he is still yours.

Heeseung’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand to settle your nerves. As Mr. and Mrs. Son bring out dinner, they place a vegetarian meal in front of you, and you glance at everyone else who has steak on their plate. You aren’t a vegetarian by any means but you are thankful since you hate red meat in general. But how did they know? You never told them about your distaste for red, especially bloody and rare, meat, and that's when a voice interjects your thoughts, “I told the cook you were veggie since you can’t eat any red meat that isn’t burnt to the heavens.” A chuckle follows the sentence and you turn to your side to face Jaeyun.

“Dig in!” Mrs. Son exclaims and gestures to the expansive amount of food in front of you all. You don’t know where to begin but Heeseung helps you as he picks up the bowl of marrowfat peas and scoops some onto your glistening white plate. You hold it up as he continues to pile the plate with food for you, not asking what you like because through what seemed like 20 million conversations about you with Jake, he learned enough about you. Heeseung sets the tongs and spoon down in their respective places and glances at you.

“Thank you.” your voice comes out no louder than a whisper. Just like the pepper incident earlier, Jaeyun knew you well enough to cater to your needs and it made your stomach flip. He nods courteously and faces his fiance once again, leaving you grateful but your heart is tired of pretending that his actions aren’t making you fall more in love with him. All the effort you made to try and bury your feelings deeply is unraveling with every passing moment. 

“That okay?” It was more than okay, he picked all your favourites, but you simply nodded and smiled at him in gratitude and he smiled at you briefly before eating the food in front of him.

This was abnormal for you. Your parents were loving and affectionate of course, but you never really had dinner like this, a feast upon your eyes and having the option to choose. Usually, your mum or dad would come home from work, come in, find something in the freezer, and shove it into the oven. Nothing fancy, nothing extraordinary, but enough. You were always grateful. 

“Baby, can you pass the salt?” Jaeyun says lowly and without thinking you reach out and pass him it, which he accepts gladly. You don’t notice the air shift until Heeseung’s eyes fall on you, wide and uncomfortable, and unfortunately, he isn’t the only one with that look on his face. As you scan around, half of the table, including Mr. and Mrs. Sim are looking at you incredulously, and then it dawns on you what you did. You aren’t his baby anymore. 

Jaeyun is none the wiser, pouring the problematic salt on his food before setting it down and digging into his food. Yeoreum side-eyes you both, and only you seem to notice, making you extra uncomfortable because at least if Jaeyun acknowledged it, you could both cover your asses together, but you guess this is up to you now.

“Oh um, the salt was just there, thought I would save Yeoreum the hassle.” You say not daring to look at anyone. Your voice sparks Jaeyun’s attention and all eyes shift to him, who simply looks at you with confusion, but when your eyes plead with him to say something he understands the gravitas of the situation, “Thanks, Y/N. I guess the salt was closer to you.” 

It’s innocent, the scenario that just happened, but after the whispers, the apple juice, and now this, someone could easily suspect something. You nod and go to eating your food, however, you still feel eyes on you. Yeoreum. Her gaze is too intense for you not to feel but you don’t chance a look at her.

“Come here.” Heeseung’s raspy voice flutters through your ears and you look at him, his face inches from your own and then, his lips on your forehead. They felt different, foreign compared to your ex-lovers, but pleasant. Heeseung and you had observing your surroundings as a common trait so when he saw Yeoreum eyeing you, he had to throw her for a curve.

Yeoreum’s eyes widen and fall back to normal in record time causing Jaeyun to follow her stare.

Red. He sees red as he witnesses another man’s lips on you, regardless of who it is, it should only be his. He grips his cutlery tightly and rips his gaze away before he does something crazy like grab his best friend and beat him to the last inches of his life. 

“Hee, it’s okay.” You smile and place a hand over his, “Let's eat, yeah?” Jaeyun scoffs and flicks his food across the plate, suddenly losing his appetite. Jaeyun has always been jealous, this isn’t new information to you, but it makes your brain wonder how he still gets riled up like this even though he isn’t yours anymore. 

Your hand instinctively wants to reach to Jaeyun again to reassure him, but you stop yourself, aware of how that would make the situation a million times worse but also, he wasn’t yours to comfort. 

The meal goes on and no one bats an eye at you anymore, well, the two boys beside you steal glances as you all eat, but the majority have disregarded salt-gate and you’re thankful. 

“Jake, how is the new job?” This is the first time you’ve heard about his new life outside Yeoreum as Mrs. Son asks him the dull question and it makes you remember that the Jaeyun you knew wasn’t the Jaeyun sitting next to you right now.

“It’s good. I’m still learning the ropes but the team is super nice.” He smiles and bows his head lowly when addressing his seniors, something he always did with your parents. Maybe he hasn’t changed that much at all. The answer seems to be acceptable enough as Mrs Son smiles and doesn’t press further. 

Jaeyun smiles at you and his demeanor changes to one of glee, “You remember the Jo twins that started that enterprise with aerodynamic cars?” He asks quietly and you nod, eyes getting bigger as you piece the puzzle together before he can even finish the sentence, “Well for my dissertation I did a study on aerodynamic cars and their resiliency in weather adverse conditions, focusing on autonomous vehicles, and they loved it,” His eyes sparkled just like they did all those years ago when he spoke about science stuff, “Offered me a starting position with them in assisting the theory I proposed.” 

“What’s the job?” You whisper to him but don’t look up, playing with your food just as he did earlier in the evening. 

It was in that moment of Jaeyun speaking that you realised as unorthodox as your leaving was, it was 100 percent the right decision. He had stars in his eyes that would never shine as bright if he hadn’t gone to Apollo and got this opportunity, and for the first time this week, you’re content. Seeing him achieve a dream, or at least on the way to achieving it, made you feel elated. 

“I’m so proud of you, Jaeyun.” It was a sincere statement and Jaeyun smiled widely at your words, like they were the words he had been waiting to hear his whole life. His heart is beating rapidly and you think you can hear it thumping against his ribcage, but you don’t mention it. He thanks you and that’s when Yeoreum pulls you both back to reality.

“My Jakey is so smart, aren’t you.” She caught onto your conversation halfway through his excited outburst, “I have no clue what it means but-”

“So you would propose a framework that tested all the elements to understand just how reliable self-driving cars truly are when faced with weather stress and how to adapt them to overcome the stressors?” You don’t mean to butt in but you always loved to speak about these things with Jaeyun, even if it was basic-level knowledge you had.

His focus was on you, his puppy energy radiating through and if he had a tail, it would be wagging right now, “Exactly! Fuck, the main focus these developers had on the vehicles was sensors that focused on detecting other cars and members of the public but say there is a massive hurricane coming, the sensors would trip out, I proposed a study to test the sensors in adverse weather conditions; fog, rain, wind, heat, all of them.” 

Jaeyun rambles on about his theories and you fall right back into how it used to be. You listen intently and learn about something you didn’t care about until he starts speaking about it, and he teaches you something new. It was just like old times. Almost.

“Babe, Y/N doesn’t want to hear all that.” Yeoreum laughs and strokes his arm, “Sorry, Y/N, he gets into all this complicated sciencey stuff that no one has a clue about and forgets to stop.” You notice his face turn red in embarrassment as if he’s just been caught doing something indecent. There is a silence that follows Yeoreum’s words until you speak up.

“I think it’s interesting, I would love to hear more about it.” 

He’s so in love with you and he really feels it at its purest form in this moment. It’s a simple thing to listen to his interest and he’s grateful you want to engage more in it. You’ve always been like this, supportive of his ways, never judgmental or dismissive. He’s thankful for you.

“You might be the only one.” Yeoreum and her parents laugh, but as you scan the top half of the table, you see Mr and Mrs Sim smile at you, appreciative. You give Jaeyun a look as if to tell him to continue he shakes his head. “It’s okay, it’s boring anyway.” 

Your heart breaks a little seeing the fire in his eyes extinguish as he goes back to eating his food. There isn’t any part of you that hates Yeoreum, but right now you are not her biggest fan, but you let it go. His mood changed but he tried to hide it from everyone, smiling and laughing with them. Recklessly, you place a hand on his thigh and squeeze it to reassure him just like you always used to. Usually, it was to comfort him during his friend's teasing, but now seemed as good a time as ever. His eyes drop to where your hand is situated and he smiles, his left hand weighs itself on yours and he’s calmer. “Tell me later. I want to know all about it.” You whisper to him.

“Thank you, Princess.” The nicknames he used to call you fall so easily out his mouth that he never has time to stop them, but you don’t mind. “And by the way,” He says, his voice lower than ever, “I was asking you for the salt earlier.” 

______

The next day, Mrs. Son enters you and Eunseo’s temporary room as you straighten your hair. She is dressed up casually for the first time since you arrived, even her pyjamas seem classy and elegant, so as your eyes take in her loose mom jeans, a grey old university jumper that reads ‘Boston University’ across the chest, and her hair covered with a navy baseball cap. 

You remember all the walks you and the Sim family went on, your hand glued to Jaeyun’s as you took in the sights of the city, sometimes even taking hikes of your own early in the morning to watch the sunrise. It wouldn’t be like that this time.

“Girls, we’re going for a walk, Jake’s father's idea,” she rolls her eyes at Eunseo who chuckles, continuing to apply her strawberry chapstick, “Wear something comfortable.” Her sigh indicates that she is in fact not thrilled with the choice, never mind the clothing situation. Not to stereotype but it doesn’t seem that the Son family is common enough for a simple walk. 

“Um, I think I’ll stay here, this seems like a family thing.” Your voice is a whisper as you try to get out of seeing Yeoreum take your place beside Jaeyun. This was also a good time to get out of this house and go back home before the wedding. Eunseo shakes her head and stands up. 

“Be ready in 5 minutes.” Mrs. Son says and leaves the room. It doesn’t take 5 minutes because with Eunseo it takes 23 minutes and 13 seconds according to her dad who timed her. 

“Absolutely not! You’re coming with me. I need my girl to motivate me.” Her eyes are pleading and a pout forming on her lips and you find yourself saying yes, just like you did in that cafe earlier in the week. That was the poorest decision of your life so, this couldn’t be much worse. 

We walk downstairs to see everyone waiting and Mr Son is impatient, either from Eunseo’s lack of urgency or because he wants this over and done with just like his wife. “You guys are so impatient, I had to find these cute leggings!” Eunseo scoffs and turns around and models the navy blue leggings that do wonders for her ass.

Jaeyun’s eyes roam over your body as you bend down to put on a pair of old trainers Eunseo dug out from her cupboard so you could match “It’s important to colour match, Y/N! I have a pair of shoes in here just give me a minute” she told you. His teeth find their way to his lip as he bites down, the habit he picked up throughout your relationship because he could never hold in his want for you. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to grab your hips and hold you against him because truthfully he missed your body on his. 

“Eunseo, sweetie, you’re going for a walk, not to Seoul Fashion Week.” Mr. Son laughs and starts to tie his shoes. She looks disgusted at her father's insinuation that she would ever wear this outfit to a fashion week and grunts as she sits down, putting on her trainers. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t pack any appropriate attire for this so you’re clad in Eunseo’s tight leggings and crop top. It’s exposing and not something you usually wear but it was either that or a sundress and wedges. 

Scared of getting caught ogling you, he turns to his fiance and looks down as she clings to his arm, engrossed by a conversation she is having with his mum. He grabs her face towards his and kisses the side of her mouth, aching for a distraction from you but all his mind is occupied with is you. Even as he kisses Yeoreum, he’s thinking about how your lips used to taste, how they felt, he’s starting to forget how they feel and it sinks his heart into his stomach. All these years without you causing his memory to lapse, only remembering how you used to wear cherry lip balm, or was it oil? He needed to kiss you one more time just so he never forgets. 

He feels shitty using Yeoreum as a distraction, kissing her not because he inherently wants to but because at least it keeps his mind and eyes off you.

Yeoreum’s hands glide down his arm as she kisses him back, her lips soft but not yours. He knows it’s wrong, to be thinking about someone else while his fiance is draped over him, her hands in his and giggling as she smooches his face.

You finish tying your shoes and turn round to see Jaeyun’s hand on her waist and mouth all over hers and a wave of sickness comes over you, you can’t do this, not now and not ever. Every time you think you’re okay and can control your emotions he does something that sends you spiraling. 

A broad chest blocks your vision of him and you feel two big hands land on your shoulders. Heeseung. You glance up and softly smile at him in gratitude for tearing your eyes away from the horror scene of your love’s tongue down someone else’s throat. Heeseung’s hands squeeze your shoulders and his lips on your temple. You don’t recall Heeseung being affectionate like this before but it has been 4 years since you’ve seen him, he’s probably changed a lot, just like Jaeyun.

“Just stick beside me, yeah?” His voice is gentle and sweet, and you agree to stay with him. He has become your unofficial saviour this week and nothing you do will ever be enough to thank him. 

Mr. Sim clears his throat to disrupt the couple’s PDA and starts to speak, “We have two cars to get us to the trail since it’s only,” Mr Sim starts to count heads since some of the family are staying behind,“5,6…9 of us, we should be able to fit 5 and 4. I have a bigger car so I’ll take the 5, Jaeyun can take the 4. Who wants in what car?” 

Everyone looks around like it's the first day of school and you’re being asked to partner up. Yeoreum is the first to speak, raising her hand excitedly, “I’m in the car with Jakey obviously.” Jaeyun’s bottom lip protrudes as he nods his head. Of course, it made sense, but knowing you would have to witness her in the passenger seat, his hand probably laid on her thigh, you wanted in the other car more than anything else right now.

“I’ll go with Mr. Sim,” Jaeyun’s eyes dart to yours confused but you shrug it off. Eunseo, who is the opposite of Heeseung, seems to be your worst enemy this trip pipes in, “How about all the adults go in one car and we go in the other? I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind sitting on Heeseung’s lap, yeah?” Oh, you are going to kill her. Mr. and Mrs. Sim look between each other and share a personal laugh. You’re glad someone is finding it funny.

“Great! It’s settled then. Let us go.” Mrs. Son barges past everyone to get to her seat, mumbling annoyance along the way. 

“It’s fine, I hope you got some meat on those thighs.” You say trying to lighten the mood, and it works for a second. Heeseung laughs and wraps his arm around you and guides you to the car before whispering, “My thighs can hold you just fine, Y/N.” 

“You okay with that?” Heeseung’s voice is low but filled with concern, he knew what Eunseo was doing and he wasn’t uncomfortable with the idea, but considering you would rather ride with 4 parents, 2 of whom you don’t know and the other 2 aren’t exactly pitching for your team, he guessed you didn’t want to be in Jaeyun’s car.

Heeseung’s laugh runs through your ears and you feel instantly calm. 

Jaeyun and Yeoreum get in the front and the three of you sleek into the back. It’s in this moment that confusion clouds your face. “There are enough seats in here? Why would I have to sit on Heeseung’s lap?” Your question is pointed to Eunseo but Jaeyun answers,

“Oh, we have to pick someone up on the way.” His smile was bright and wide, “She’s a diva and likes her own seat.” Tilting your head at him, Jaeyun looks down and laughs lowly as if you should know.

“You can avoid Heeseung’s lap for now until we pick her up.” Eunseo states as she slides into her side. “But after that…” She winks at you as you scoot into the middle seat. Your best friend really was something else.

You decide to focus on the interior of Jaeyun’s old but new to you car. It’s a lot less shabby than the one you knew, with black leather seats that don’t have cracks in them from years of wear and tear, and his old cassette player has been upgraded to a built-in CD system. 

“Let’s put on some music!” Yeoreum says as she trifles through a CD case but Jaeyun quickly takes it from her and laughs nervously.

“Why don’t you take the aux like always? I've said before these CD's aren't your thing.” Jaeyun puts the CDs in his glove box and continues to drive forward. It piqued your curiosity about what was in the case. Probably a surprise wedding mixtape he spent forever on with all Yeoreum’s favourite songs, just like he used to do with you. That sickness from earlier starts to bubble, but you swallow it down. 

“Fine. Y/N, what do you like to listen to? I know everyone else’s taste but yours!” Yeoreum is so sweet, and it’s killing you a little. If only she was a bitch. 

“Um, I think everything,” You say as you watch her add songs into a queue, clearly picking an eclectic mix to keep everyone happy. 

The car jerks forward as Jaeyun almost emergency brakes when Heeseung calls you angel. You’re body lunges forward a little at the jerk but Heeseung shields your body, acting as another seatbelt. “Mate, watch what you’re doing.” Heeseung scorns his best friend as he rubs your arms, “You good?” Nodding in response you get comfy again.

“Put some Monsta X on,” Heeseung’s face turns to you as he speaks. “She loves them, don’t you, angel?” 

The rest of the car is filled with Yeoreum’s hand-selected playlist and tension between the driver seat and the one behind.

Jaeyun turns into a quaint little area with a few shops and buildings about 20 minutes into the drive. “Are we here already?” you ask Heeseung but he shakes his head. “Did you forget we have a passenger princess to pick up?” You let out a silent ‘oh’ and nod. 

As the car stops in the parking lot you shift a little uncomfortable. “I’m going to stretch my legs.” Heeseung steps out of the car to let you out but you stumble out of the car, luckily, Jaeyun is there to catch you, his hands placed on your shoulders to stop you from face-planting. He doesn’t say a word but his expression is laced with concern to which you shake your head and whisper a thank you.

You brush yourself down and straighten up. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He says to you and lets his hand linger down your arm. All you can do is nod and watch him leave.

“You know her well.” Oh no. Not another ghost from 4 years past. You can’t face another stern face cursing you to oblivion for your previous actions. 

“Who are we picking up?” You stretch your right leg and look at Heeseung who laughs. 

Yeoreum squeals and gets out of the car, “There she is!” Your sights set on Yeoreum and follow to where she is staring and your heart leaps out of your mouth. As you cross round the car you see the familiar blonde charging her way to you.

“Layla!” You shout, a shit-eating grin plastered on your face as the dog bounds towards you, happiness evident on her face. 

In a blur, you kneel down and she jumps up to give your face sloppy licks. Layla was Jaeyun’s family dog, a precious piece of their family, and admittedly your favourite, even before Jaeyun. “Whose my good girl?” You hug her tight as she barks, her tail wagging excitedly, the feeling of missing each other is mutual. Ruffling her coat she jumps around you and barks loudly. Jaeyun smiles down at you both, and you smile back at him, however, you’re the only two smiling as Yeoreum and Eunseo have a look of bewilderment.

“I thought you said she was reserved around new people?” Eunseo asks Yeoreum who hums to confirm. 

You miss out on this as you give Layla long-awaited kisses and cuddles, whispering ‘I missed you’ and ‘good girl’ into her fur. 

“Um, Jakey? Isn’t Layla shy around people she doesn’t know? She was like that with me when I first met her.” The question from his fiance brings him back to earth and his smile wipes from his face, clearing his throat to buy him some time to think of an excuse.

“Eh, maybe she just trusts Y/N because she’s with all of us.” A pathetic reasoning but you weren’t exactly any help, too busy playing with the excited animal.

Shit.

Heeseung crouches beside you and gives Layla a pet, nudging you in the process, “Remember where you are, Y/N.” 

You look around and everyone’s eyes are on you. “She must just sense I’m a dog person. Are you a dog or cat person, Yeoreum?” If there was one thing you perfected over the years it’s how to deflect situations onto another person and that's through the art of asking them questions about themself.

“I like dogs!” She smiles, “But I do like cats.” Her pondering face is matched with her hand on her cheek, “Jakey, do you think she didn’t take to me because I like cats?”

“Yes!” Jaeyun claps and points to her excitedly, happy to have a reason for this scenario in front of him. “Must be that, Reumie.” His shoulders relax and his eyes fix on Layla. She’s clueless, just happy that you’re back.

Getting back into the car you sit on Heeseung’s lap and Layla looks at you, like if she focuses on anyone else you’ll disappear again. You pet her to reassure her and it doesn’t take long for her to lay her head on your thigh, just happy for your presence. Jaeyun’s heart flips at the scene as he watches it through the rearview mirror. 

As you’re getting comfy on Heeseung’s thighs, you hover a little to not put all the pressure of you on him, but Heeseung is Heeseung and he notices. His hands grip your waist and plonk you down until your whole weight is on him. “You won’t break me.” He chuckles and rubs circles into your hips. A slight nod of your head is all you offer him and you get comfy.

Jaeyun starts the car, reversing out the car park, one arm resting on the seat as he looks behind him, for a split second he looks your way but quickly goes back to focusing on not crashing the car, his tongue pointed out the side of his mouth in concentration. You shift in Heeseung’s lap as heat bubbles in your stomach. There is something about Jaeyun driving that always made you think out of church hour thoughts, the way the veins run up his arm, how his tongue pokes out and wets his lips, his one hand on the wheel reversing, it was all so hot. There were times on occasion you couldn’t handle it and got him to take you in the backseat, those were not the thoughts you need right now while you’re on his best friend’s lap. 

“Hey,” Heeseung rips your gaze from Jaeyun’s hand with his voice as you turn your head to him, his voice low enough only you can hear, “If you leave a wet patch on my sweatpants I will have you pay for my dry cleaning.” He huffs out a laugh as your face falls and goes bright red.

“I-I, shut up, Hee!”  You whisper and slap his chest. 

__

One hour later you arrive and see the couple’s parents waving Jaeyun over. As he parks the car you all clamber out and greet the others, Layla ping-ponging herself between you and Jaeyun. 

A tap on your shoulder has you turning to face a serious Eunseo, “How did you know her name was Layla?” The question catches you for a new one but you just spout the same excuse you have this whole trip. 

“Jake told me.” 

“You know.” She crosses her arms and taps her foot a few times before continuing, “You seem to have spoken to Jake a lot and yet, I haven’t seen you talk to him once.” The tone of her sentence is accusatory but you keep calm.

She hums, “He knew about your distaste for black pepper, you knew he was captain of his high school football team, and I heard him request a vegetarian dish for you to our cook so I presume he knows you hate red meat. All that was way before dinner.” Her stance is strong as she leans back and waits for you to explain, but you can’t.

“W-what do you mean? We spoke last night, about his job and stuff,” your hand points to her, palm faced forward, “you saw.”

“Oh Eunseo, Jaeyun is actually the love of my life, we dated for about 4 years and then I left without a word. Now he’s going to marry your sister and I want to die at the thought.” 

That is what you probably shouldn’t say, so you settle with, “Just small talk I guess.” A nervous laugh leaves you but she doesn’t let up. “Y/N-”

At the same time Eunseo is saying your name, Heeseung comes over and hugs you from behind, “You coming, ladies? Or do you want to stay here with all the screaming children?” Heeseung points over Eunseo’s shoulder to the crying toddler and their sleep-deprived parents.

“You two need to be more careful. If Eunseo finds out, she tells Yeoreum, and I don’t think you want to be the topic of that conversation right before the wedding, yeah?” 

“Coming!” You say and rush off, grabbing Heeseung’s hand and getting you both out of Eunseo’s earshot. “Thank you.”

He’s right. He always is and it exudes a heavy sigh from your lips. “I know, it’s just so easy to forget.” You admit and his silent nod is all you need before the group of you head for your walk.

It’s peaceful, every so often you throw a stick for Layla, and chatter amongst the parents is all you hear as you make it your mission to not look Jaeyun’s way. Eunseo walks alongside the happy couple and you do as Heeseung suggested and stay by his side. The scenery takes your breath away, the golden sun burning your skin, not a cloud in sight. You take some time to reflect on the past 4 years and realise the sun doesn’t come out so much in Pyeongchang. 

“Y/N?” You turn to see Yeoreum looking at you, “Can I ask you something?” Oh no. Eunseo told her, fuck, maybe Mrs. Sim did. Is she going to throw you over the cliff, is all this one big ploy to get rid of you? 

“Oh, sure.” You look away and prepare for the worst-case scenario.

“Tell us more about your ex. I can’t stop thinking about it.” Your eyes widen and look straight at Jaeyun who, despite his golden skin, is suddenly pale white. “I don’t know why you broke up with him if you were so perfect for each other.” 

Jaeyun and Heeseung look at each other in confusion. They weren’t there for the conversation when the football game was going on, so they had no idea what Yeoreum was talking about.

“Yeah!” It’s Eunseo’s turn to chime in, “Y/N is such a closed book, I still know hardly anything about her. Tell us. You said you had challenges.”

“I-”

“It’s not really our business though, it is? We don’t have to know.” Heeseung speaks up in your defense but Yeoreum just scoffs. “I know about everyone’s exes, I love hearing about them. I know all about yours,” She points to Heeseung, “I of course know all about Jake’s.” She rolls her eyes as she spits the last sentence out, clearly, Jaeyun had said some bitter things about you, but you don’t mind. You deserved it. “So tell us about yours, Y/N. Jake, you should have seen the way she spoke about him! It was true love, I know it, maybe we can give you advice and get back together?”

Jaeyun coughs and looks up to the sky, wishing a bright light would come from between the clouds and either obliterate him like in that War of the Worlds movie.

“It was just,” You stop, uncomfortable at the idea that the subject of conversation is only a meter from you. Maybe this was your chance to really explain yourself in a controlled environment where emotions had to be under control, not like that night in the kitchen. 

“I just was scared I think. I didn’t really handle the situation well. I was scared of long distance so I didn’t tell him I was going to college in Pyeongchang and just up and left.” 

“I thought it was the right call. He had dreams, and honestly? He would have given all of it up for me. His dream school, his future, just to follow me and I didn’t want to live with the guilt of it.” Your head hangs low, and Heeseung’s hand grazes yours in an attempt to comfort you. “In the moment, I thought it was the right choice.”

“Damn,” Eunseo slows down her pace and looks at you, “You mean you just, left him behind?” 

Eunseo stops completely, “Your parents…”

“Left them behind too. I didn’t want to risk him finding out where I was going. I didn’t tell anyone. Literally.” It was all clicking in Eunseo’s head and her jaw hung open.

“That’s cold, Y/N. I can’t imagine how he feels. Does he know where you are now?” Yeoreum asks the wrong questions every single time and you almost laugh at the irony.

You shrug, “I-” 

“What do you think about it now?” The Australian accent jolts you to attention and interrupts what would have been a lie. Turning your head to him you wish he wasn’t looking at you with his eyes wide, like they’re desperate for something only you can give him.

Swallowing you nod slowly, “I think- I think I made the wrong choice.” You should have stopped the sentence there but you continue, “He’s everything to me still, I would do anything to go back and change it.”

In another world, Jaeyun is tearing himself away from Yeoreum, picking you up, and kissing you because you are the only one that matters. But this isn’t a romance movie, and you’re both deep in this tangled mess.

“I think you should reach out. Then you can have what me and Jake have.” A scoff is heard behind you. Turning, you view Heeseung with disgust on his face, his jaw is clenched and his eyes don’t even give Yeoreum the time of day. “What? You don’t think she could have that?” 

“I think Y/N can have anything she wants,” He’s biting his tongue. Jaeyun’s gaze is looking pleadingly at his best man to shut the fuck up. He doesn’t, “It’s just Y/N is describing a love that sounds like once in a lifetime.”

It’s Yeoreum’s time to stop in her tracks. “And you think Jake and I don’t have that?”

“Yes.” If gagged had a visual representation next to its definition in the dictionary, it would be a still-frame picture of your face right now. “It’s not that you don’t love each other obviously,” damage control Heeseung was coming to fruition as he saw the shocked faces staring at him, “It’s just love like that isn’t easy to find.” He mumbles, cursing under his breath that he even opened his mouth. 

“Well, for your information, Heeseung I brought Jake back to life after his high school relationship. He was nothing but a hollow body until he met me. If it wasn’t a ‘once in a lifetime love’” She air quotes the phrase, “then he would still be moping around over a shitty, second string ex that never deserved him.”

“Enough.” Jaeyun’s voice is stern, not like you’ve ever heard before, “Both of you just shut up. I love Yeoreum,” He faces Heeseung almost trying to convince him, “I wouldn’t be marrying her otherwise, “and you don’t get to shit on my ex.” His attention now on his fiance, “You don’t know her, she had her reasons, and yeah she hurt me, but she deserved all the love I gave her. So keep her out of your mouth. Got it?” 

Maybe Yeoreum’s face right now should be next to gagged in the dictionary. Scratch that, just have this whole scenario play out on a projector. Jaeyun strides ahead, annoyed that anyone in their right mind would ever say anything like that about you. The silence is loud as you all continue your walk, Layla still none the wiser.

As you reach the top of the trail, Jaeyun’s emotions have settled but he doesn’t look at you or Yeoreum once, focused on the sun. Even though it’s shining bright, it’s a lot colder with the breeze from the height where he stood.

Layla is pulling at you to follow her and with her leash in hand you do. She paws at Jaeyun who looks down with a smile and pets her head. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and you take a moment to register he’s talking to you. “She shouldn’t have said that.”

Your heart beats loudly because even after all this time he’s still looking out for you, still caring about your feelings even though he would have every right to hate you and curse you just like Yeoreum had.

“Jaeyun, It’s okay. She’s not wrong. It was shitty.” You suck your teeth and then you laugh, “You’re gonna be a terrifying dad,” He doesn’t say anything but his eyebrows scrunch together, “The way you put them both in their place, I’ve never seen you get angry.”

“Ah, that’s not true.” Now it was your turn to adorn a face of confusion, “Your birthday party, with Sunghoon?” Oh. Yeah. That. You shift from one foot to another, wrapping Layla’s lead around one of your hands. “I think that was the only time though.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He laughs loudly and shakes his head. “Baby, that was like 7 years ago. I forgive you. I forgave you that night.”

“Then go forgive Yeoreum.” The statement causes Jaeyun to lean back. “You should forgive her. It wasn’t nice but she didn’t mean it like that, she was protecting you because she loves you. If you can forgive me that easy then you can do the same for her.”

He sighs and sticks his hands in his pockets. “It’s easy to forgive you.” 

“Do you?” Your voice is a whisper, your heart rapidly hitting against your chest, “Forgive me.”

Jaeyun nods his head slowly and turns to face you properly, “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Taking his hand out of his pocket he grabs yours and squeezes it. He loves you and that is never going to change. It’s just that he loves Yeoreum now. You can try to find contentment in that.

_______

For the car ride back, Yeoreum storms into the backseat without giving any warning, clearly mad at her future husband. Heeseung guides Layla into the middle seat before situating himself on the seat beside her and waiting for you to crawl onto his lap. That however does not happen. Eunseo decides to sit on Heeseung’s lap instead and he is less than impressed. “Um, Eunseo?” She turns to Heeseung as if sitting on his lap is the most obvious decision in the world. “What? I’m not sitting next to him after he shouted at my sister.” Jaeyun opens the driver seat and throws himself down onto the leather, muttering a barely heard ‘I didn’t shout’. You look at Heeseung to help you out but he shrugs and mouths a sorrowful ‘Sorry.’ which is no comfort at all. “Y/N can sit in the front.” Yeoreum huffs and you follow her instruction mindlessly. You get into the passenger side and buckle your seatbelt for the awkward 2 hours that await. 

“Let me put on some music, yeah?” Your voice is calm and quiet like you’re trying not to disrupt the tension. Heeseung is the only one to agree but you still grab the aux and plug your phone in. Unlike Yeoreum, you don’t ask what songs people want and settle for one of your playlists but just as you go to hit play, your phone says it’s at 5% and you mentally curse yourself for taking so many pictures. You have a choice; you can either play the songs right now and have your phone die in 2 minutes, or sit in silence. You sit for a while and the silence causes Jaeyun to turn to you.

“You okay?” he asks and you hum explaining about your phone, “Here.” Opening the glove box he hands you the CDs he hid from Yeoreum and she notices, crossing her arms and holding back from making a sarky comment.

Flicking through the CDs you see the mixtapes he made over the years until one stops you dead. ‘Y/N #1’. Your fingers flip through and all of them are named something similar all the way to ‘Y/N #38’. The last one has drawings of rings and keys all around it and you lightly trace your fingers over it, scared that if you touch it you’ll break it. 

To confirm your theories, you pick it out and enter it into the CD player and your heart skips at least 5 beats as the first notes play from Love is All Around by Wetter. You choke on nothing as the memories of that night come flooding back to that night. He had taken all those cassette tapes and made them into CDs. Even after you abandoned him he still took the time to transfer every single mixtape. Your chest feels heavy and you feel like you’re going to pass out until Jaeyun places a hand on your thigh to calm you down. His touch is so familiar and comforting that instantly you feel relief wash over you, your hand intertwining with his. Just like how you used to be, you’re seeking his comfort. 

Yeoreum is in too much of a sour mood to notice how his thumb rubs your skin, and how his whole body suddenly feels like it’s found the missing limb that’s been detached from him. But Heeseung doesn’t. He sees it all and he wants to cuss you both out for being so obvious. Still, instead, he’s engaging Eunseo in meaningless conversation, distracting her of any chance to see how Jaeyun has his fingers tracing hearts into your thigh.

As the song’s final chorus blares through the speakers he brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently. It’s a foolish move and Heeseung panics, looking between the sisters to see if any of them notice and somehow they don’t. He is going to have some words for you both when they all get back. 

Alan Watt’s monologue at the end of the song doesn’t help the way you’re feeling, like for the first time in years you are exactly where you should be, with the love of your life. But his hand leaves yours as the journey goes on due to worrying that Yeoreum could turn her head and see it, and you’re pulled back to reality. He isn’t yours, and he’s getting married in two days.

____

Stepping out of the car you watch as everyone walks into the house, some sullen, and some oblivious about what happened. You wish you were the latter. Jaeyun walks with his hands in his pockets, head down as he follows a pouty Yeoreum up the stairs and into their bedroom. The house’s once light atmosphere is now heavy and by this point, everyone can feel it. Mr. Sim pulls Heeseung to the side and they share a whisper. Mrs & Mr. Son kidnap Mrs. Sim and Eunseo to the kitchen to help them prepare dinner.

You don’t follow your best friend, instead, you tread up the grand staircase, ready to shower and wash off the antics of today, craving the battering of hot water against your skin. Your foot is not but a second on the first floor when you hear shouting. It’s muffled and honestly, you shouldn’t be listening but you’re nosey and you one hundred percent know who it is.

“I just don’t understand why you shouted at me like that. And in front of our friends!” Yeoreum cries out. Don’t eavesdrop your mind is telling you, but your feet are gingerly walking to their door, it lays slightly ajar.

You don’t see lots but you can see Yeoreum’s back and sometimes when she moves, you can see Jaeyun. He looks lost, guilty, and bored all at once.

“Reumie, I did not shout at you. I told you to not speak about my ex. What is your fascination with her? You bring her up whenever you get the chance.” 

Yeoreum scoffs and folds her arms, one foot pointed out to the right and her hip jutted out. “Me?! Fascination?! You have some nerve to ask me that.” Jaeyun looks at her confused, “Jake, you are so sensitive whenever I bring her up.”

“Because she’s my fucking ex, Yeoreum. It’s a sensitive fucking topic for a lot of people believe it or not. I told you talking about her makes me uncomfortable” He’s mad and he’s scared she’ll say something that will have him saying something regretful. Jaeyun’s hands are in front of him and his fingers are joined as he tries to calm down. “Look, let’s just forget it-”

“Get over it, Jake. She probably has. I am the one who got you out of your rut, I am the one who held you on those nights you’d cry over her wishing she would come back even though I, your girlfriend, was right there, and I sure as hell am the one you asked to marry you.”

Jaeyun stills at the memories of him laying on his dorm bed, willing you to come home to him, Yeoreum hugging him from behind, lulling him to calm down. He couldn’t even pretend to care about her presence when thoughts of you struck into his mind. She didn’t deserve the way he was back then and he’s surprised she stayed around.

Jaeyun opens his mouth but she cuts him off before he can even respond, her eyes are on him with a deadly stare, “Do you still love her?” It’s his turn to scoff but she doesn’t let up, “Tell me you don’t love her, and I’ll put it all behind me. I will forget this ever happened and drop it.” She knows the answer, but she wants him to lie to her.

“I- Yeoreum everyone still has feelings for their first love.”

“If she walked through that door right now, would you leave me for her?” 

A gentle hand enveloped the top of your arm, causing you to gasp and turn around panicked. Mr. Sim’s gaze meets yours. He gently leads you from the door and into your room, “I think you’ve heard enough.” Although the statement can come across as rude from anyone else, his tone is comforting. He was taking you away from the possibility of the answer you knew he was going to say. Of course not. He wouldn’t leave her if his ex walked into his life again because you did walk back in and he is still very much engaged.

Jaeyun’s dad shuts the door behind him and sighs, “Y/N, Heeseung told me what happened.” You nod.

“It wasn’t a big argument, they’ll get over it in a minute.” Looking up you see him shaking his head and waltzing towards you, guiding you both to sit on the edge of the bed.

“He told me everything.” Oh. You nod again, this time heavy and with dread, as you think about the prospect of how this conversation will go. 

The next words to leave his mouth are not in a million years what you would have guessed,  “Thank you.” Shifting your body to face him completely you stretch your neck forward to make sure you heard him correctly, eyelids invisible as your eyebrows dart up.

Mr. Sim laughs and gently shakes your leg affectionately. “I know I didn’t give you the best welcome back reaction but you have to understand.” You daren’t say a word, trying to listen carefully, “When you left, you left behind my son but you took him with you. His livelihood, his character, his heart, he lost himself and I think it’s because you accidentally packed him up with your bags.”

“I’ll be candid, we lost all respect for you,” His face is sour and all you can do is nod because he had every right to feel this way, “But after these past few days, and Heeseung telling me why you left, I realise I have to thank you.”

The guilt your heart feels is astronomical, you knew it would hurt him, but something about the way his dad is putting it is like having someone poke multiple pins in your heart and dragging them down slowly, and painfully, torturing you as you awaited death.

“Why? You should hate me, you said yourself, I destroyed him.”

“Emotionally at the time, yes. But every step you took was always with his interest at the forefront. You knew he would reject Apollo if you told him you weren’t going with him.” A chuckle leaves his lips and his hand pats your leg again, “One thing about my boy? He is stupid when it comes to mind over heart. And you are so smart, baby girl.” Mr. Sim’s eyes are just as they used to be, full of adoration for you.

“If Jaeyun had left with you, he might have started to resent you and the relationship, wondering if he made the right choice, it would cause arguments, you’d drift and it would all have been for nothing. You saw that didn’t you?”

Yes. That is exactly how you saw it. When you made the decision to not tell him, long distance was your main reason, but as you stewed with it for years you truly know the guilt of keeping him from his dream school and ultimately sabotaging his future was the main reason. You wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. “Something like that.” Is all you mutter to him, “I knew how hard he worked for all of it, Busan, Apollo, his career, I didn’t want him to jeopardise it for some girl. And he always said long-distance scared him.” Tears are ricocheting down your face and you taste the salt as the liquid slips past your lips. For the first time, your feelings and actions are being validated.

“He also got Yeoreum.” You say smiling sadly. He grabs your chin and turns your face to his delicately.

“My son was always your number one priority, even when you didn’t realise it. Now do I wish there was a better way you could have gone about this? Categorically so.” He laughs and for the first time in the whole conversation so do you, nodding your head and your eyes looking up. “But you deserve a thank you because look what he has; honours in one of the most prestigious colleges in the country, a job he loves and is so dearly passionate about, I mean really, I cannot get him to shut up about it,”

“Do you love him?” You agree without hesitation and try to focus on anything but his eyes, too painful and far too similar to his son’s. “Then let me give you some advice,” Shouting can be heard, Jaeyun and Yeoreum’s voices getting louder but you’re too busy hanging on to every word Mr. Sim is speaking to tune in, “Do what you think is best, for you and him, either together or separate. You’ll make the right choice, Y/N. I know that now.”

[allllium]

Hey, can I make a Matt x Reader request. Reader is a doctor and lives with Matt one evening Matt comes home with Spiderman who needs help. You become surrogate parents for Peter and think about adopting him since he's a son to both of you anyway.

Peter

~ Sorry this took me so long to get to. I had something written at some point but ended up scraping it 😭

~ Fluff, Maybe a little angst bc Peter is hurt at the beginning?

~ WC: 1,536

~ Matt brings home a kid ~

Being with Matt you've learned always to expect the unexpected. Matt has a heart of gold, always doing everything he can to help those in need. It's a good thing you're the same way. You wouldn't be a doctor if you didn't have the urge to help people but sometimes Matt, in your opinion, helps people that don't help him far too often.

However, one thing you didn't expect was for your wonderful boyfriend to come home with a kid. Okay maybe not kid, he's about sixteen years old, but that's still way younger than you or Matt. And way too young to be doing what he does.

When Matt brings home the kid, the first thing you do is freeze for a second. Who is this kid? How did he get hurt? How does Matt know him? Why is he in your apartment bleeding? 

You're quickly pushed out of your thoughts when Matt helps the kid onto the couch and looks to you for help. You immediately jump in, using your doctor skills to the best of your ability. Both he and your boyfriend stay silent the whole time. Matt stays sitting in an armchair to the side, obviously stressed by whatever happened. 

It takes a while to patch up the kid, whose name you still don't know, but as soon as you're finished, he falls asleep on the couch and allows you time to discuss this strange situation with Matt. 

Why is it that he stays silent the whole time you're busy helping the kid but the second you're ready to talk he runs off to the kitchen, not exactly running off as the kitchen is right there, but still?

“Matt. Explain?” You don't know what to say or ask. A million questions are running through your head as you follow him to the kitchen. 

“His name's Peter.” He hesitates to continue. “He's spiderman, that's how he got hurt.” 

“What? He's a child!” How the hell is a teenager Spiderman? 

“Yeah, I know that's why I've been keeping an eye on him.” He says as if it's the most casual thing ever. As if he didn't just bring me a beaten-up sixteen-year-old to fix up. 

“What do you mean keeping an eye on him? Do you listen to him?” You turn back to the living room and collapse in a chair. 

“No, he lives too far away. I just mean that I call him and check up on him.” His voice is quiet, careful not to wake the sleeping kid. “I met him a few weeks ago.” 

“When you were in Queens? Is that why you left?” A couple of weeks ago, Matt spent a few days in Queens for a new client he met. He never said much about it and you never asked. You never wanted to invade his clients' privacy and you weren't sure he could tell you about it anyway. 

“Yeah actually.” He doesn't say anymore and for some reason, you don't ask. Not sure if you want to know the reasons this kid, Peter you now know, could be in danger. You know Matt can handle himself so most of the time you try not to worry yourself but this is a young kid, that you can almost guarantee doesn't have anywhere near the amount of fighting training Matt had. 

After a few hours of making sure he was okay on the couch, and convincing Matt to stay in for the night, you both decide to head to bed. 

You wake up the next morning to loud crashing noises from the kitchen. You automatically know it's not Matt because one he is a terrible cook and two he is still lying in bed with an arm over your waist. So Peter must have woken up from his injury-induced slumber and started cooking because he's hungry? 

You reluctantly throw yourself out of bed. Despite getting plenty of sleep you feel anything but well rested. As you head out of the bedroom you see Peter wearing the old clothes Matt put out for him and trying to cook something in the kitchen. From the smell of it, he's probably not the best cook either.

“Good morning.” You greet him, coming into the kitchen and leaning against the counter. He whips around to look at you in surprise, he clearly doesn't have the same super senses as Matt.

“Oh uh, good morning!” He tries his best to sound cheerful but his voice has an underlying tone of shock and awkwardness. “Sorry for waking you up. I know taking of someone you don't know so late at night isn't the best, so I thought I would make you and Matt some breakfast to try and make up for it. I'm Peter by the end.” You stay silent as he falls into an awkward ramble. 

“Hi Peter I'm y/n. And you don't have to worry about making it up to us, we were happy to help. Plus I deal with this stuff all the time.”

“Right, you're a doctor! Matt told me about that.” He puts down all the stuff he was “cooking” and leans along the counter with you. 

“Oh, he talks about me?” 

“Well, it was that or all the people we've fought as masked superheroes.” He shrugs. 

“Superhero? Aren't you a little young to be fighting like you do?” 

“Maybe but if I can help people why wouldn't I?” 

“You could always be selfish and use your powers for yourself.” You tell him out of both curiosity and the fact that if you had any kind of powers you can't guarantee you would use them to help anyone else.

“Yeah, I guess.” And just like you both stop talking. Waiting in silence for Matt to wake up before you order breakfast.

Peter stayed with you guys for a little over a week while you made sure he was fully healed from his injuries. Before long he was going back home to Queens to whoever he lives with. You know from one brief conversation that his parents are gone, he never said how or who he stays with now but that's not any of your business. 

He comes over almost every week now for dinner, one of the only nights a week you and Matt cook instead of ordering takeout. You have the feeling Matt has imprinted on Peter, kind of like a baby duck. Maybe it's because they’re so similar. They can relate to each other in a way Foggy and Karen can’t. Well, Frank can but he and Matt don’t exactly get along. 

Today is one of the days that he’s gonna be coming over for dinner. You and Matt are in the kitchen making a new pasta dish. 

“So I wanted to ask you a question?” Matt suddenly tells you, while in the middle of stirring the pasta sauce. 

“You know you don't have to ask to ask a question right?” It doesn't matter how many times you say it, Matt will always warn you before asking a question. Most likely because he's worried about bothering you.

He lets out a deep chuckle. “I know, sweetheart, but I'm worried you'll say no.”

“I doubt it. What is it?”

“You know how Peter lives with his aunt right?” He pulls the finished sauce off the stove so he can put his full attention on you.

“I knew he lived some family member, yes. Why?” You’re very curious as to where this is going. 

“Well, she’s getting older and I thought maybe he could come and stay with us for a while.” Not what you expected him to ask.

“Matt, I would say yes to that if I could see how it would work. We don't have the room.” You shrug. You would love to help Peter out but you don’t think he would like living on the couch for at least a year. 

“That’s why I'm asking you. You always know what to do with these things.” If he means the way you freak out thinking of every possible solution and pretend to know what you’re doing then yeah, you are a master at it.

“I don't know, Matty. There is about a year and a half before he goes to college, there is no way he’ll be comfortable here for that long.”

“I know. Believe me, I’ve been thinking of a way this could work. I just don’t want him to be alone.” 

“He won’t be. Even if he can’t live here he’s always welcome.” And just by saying that you come up with the perfect idea. 

A few weeks later it worked. Somehow everything magically fell into place. At the end of your previous conversation about it, you told Matt how great it would be if Peter could have his own apartment close to yours and magically one became available in the same building. Being sixteen, Peter obviously couldn't pay for the place himself but you were able to help out, having some extra money due to being a good doctor. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Matt comes up to you. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Eh, you’re rubbing off on me.” You grumble with a fake annoyance.

[yanderecrazysie]

Hiii!!! I haven’t really requested anything before so I hope I’m doing this right, but could I please request the training camp with manger reader, character of your choice bc I really couldn’t decide lmao😭😭😭

I really wasn’t sure what to do for this, so I just chose Bokuto because… well, because. XD

Title: Enamor

Pairings: Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, manager! reader

Summary: Bokuto develops a crush on the Shinzen High manager.

enamor

/verb/

be filled with a feeling of love for

Bokuto’s attention was easily won, but just as easily lost.

His attention was fleeting, bouncing from one person to another like a volleyball. Until it stopped.

On you.

Bokuto had already met Kyoko, but he had no real interest in her. She looked beautiful, sure, but she didn’t have much in the way of personality to hold his attention. You, on the other hand, were beautiful and energetic.

You were the manager of the Shinzen High Volleyball Club. You stood on the sidelines of every match and cheered your heart out for the team. Where other managers clapped or just watched silently, you jumped up and down and hollered out praise.

When each match was finished, you would fling yourself onto the group of boys- high fives if they won, hugs if they lost. Shinzen High wasn’t exactly the best team there (though they were no Karasuno), so there were quite a few losses and quite a few hugs.

Bokuto pouted every time you gave a round of hugs to them, eyes narrowing whenever you lingered a little too long. He found himself wishing he could be on the Shinzen High team, just to get a hug or high five from you.

Akaashi noticed something was wrong when Bokuto went into “emo mode” before the next match even started. His eyes surveyed the gym, surprised to notice where Bokuto’s attention was.

The broccoli-headed guy had an arm around your waist as the team talked. You didn’t seem bothered by it, merely talking casually as though it weren’t there. 

“Bokuto,” Akaashi warned, “We have to start the next match.”

“Just play without me, Akaashi,” Bokuto said dramatically, “I have a broken heart, I can’t play.”

Akaashi closed his eyes and tried to think what would cheer him up, “But, Bokuto, don’t you want to impress her with your volleyball skills?” Bokuto perked up, but only a little.

The next few matches were torture for Fukorodani. They were good at playing without Bokuto, but they needed him to get over his emo mode at least at some point in the match. Instead, he spent the entire time moping around- not trying to spike or receive and serving half-heartedly.

The coach was furious and, in the next match, he didn’t even put Bokuto in. “Deal with it or don’t play,” he had said.

Bokuto found himself walking up to you in a daze. You turned to him and gave him a polite smile, “Yes? Can I help you?”

“What’s your name?” Bokuto asked.

“Oh, it’s (Y/n),” you said, looking a little confused, “And you’re Bokuto, right?”

Bokuto’s emo mode disappeared instantly, “That’s me!” He puffed his chest out in pride.

“Why aren’t you playing?” you asked, confusedly looking over at his team.

“I wanted to talk to you!” Bokuto said, “I love you!”

You stared blankly at him, “You just learned my name, how do you love me? Or is that, like, an over exaggeration?”

Bokuto gave you a look like a kicked puppy. Didn’t you understand that he had fallen in love at first sight? That he was enamored with your very being?

Apparently you didn’t understand, because you turned back to your team, cheering as they made a point. You turned back, looking surprised that Bokuto was still there.

That was okay, he’d find a way to show you how much he loved you before training camp was over. Whether it was through bubbly praise or confronting you in the locker room, alone… he would have you.

He’d never been this enamored with anyone else before. 

[ddejavvu]

omfg imagine fairy reader getting off rubbing on Aaron’s finger or idk something bc she’s so tiny

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Damn Aaron for being so attentive. You know that's his job, he's told you before that he has to stay vigilant, that he notices little things because it could save his life one day, but all it's done today is embarrass you. You'd been trying to muffle your moans with one of his t-shirts, buried in the fabric in the drawer he'd set up for you, but it wasn't working.

"Y/N?" He calls, and your eyes blow wide open from where you're nestled in his dresser drawer, "Hey, where are you? Are you alright?"

You don't answer at first, barely breathing to keep silent. But he doesn't let up, and you can hear his footsteps trekking to the bed, "Y/N? What's going on, sweetheart? Can you hear me?"

The next time he says your name it's louder, like he'd assumed the answer to his last question was no. You feel guilty about the concern in his voice, mouth dry as you finally respond, "I'm okay, Aaron."

You hear him freeze, then he realizes you're in the drawer and he's on it in seconds. Light spills into the previously dark space, and you make sure that all he can see is your head popping out from the fabric of his shirt.

"Hi," You smile sheepishly, face on fire as the one below your belly begs for attention. You definitely look strange, wide-eyed and half-buried in a shirt, but you don't think Aaron's figured out why yet.

"Hi," He hums, a neutral frown tight on his face. He's studying you, you realize, and you try to loosen up.

"I was trying to get a nap in," You explain, "I figured your bed would be too big for me all alone."

"I see," Aaron nods, "And you were... having a nightmare?"

"What?"

"You were crying," Aaron reminds you, "Or- or whining, or groaning, or-"

"I wasn't-" You rush to stop him, and something twitches in his left eye. His mouth hangs open with the hint of his next word but it never comes, and he nods slowly, just once.

"Oh."

"Aaron, I-" You wish you could sit up, flutter over to his face and make up some scattered excuse as to what was really happening, but if you do, he'll see your very naked form, "Not, like- I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." He assures you, already making to close the drawer again, "I'll... leave you to it."

"No!" You rush to catch his hand, current state of dress forgotten, and when you catch his finger, the shirt falls off of you. There you stand- er, hover, thighs pressed together and chest on display.

"Don't go," You beg, and Aaron freezes up. He can't shut the drawer anymore, not unless he wants to squish you, and you've got a good grip on his finger.

"It's okay," He hums, worried you'll think he's judging you, "Really, everyone- uh, everyone does it. I just didn't think about it before I came in. But it's okay, I promise. I'm not upset or anything like that."

"No," You whimper, clutching tighter still at his hand, "I'm- I need, uh, help."

You're clutching so tight to Aaron's finger that you can feel it tense up.

"Help," He repeats cautiously, and you nod, nervous tears pricking at your eyes.

"I- I just," You stammer, heartbeat so loud it's in your ears, "I can't.. finish. And I don't know what to do, and I thought that if you helped me-"

"I shouldn't," Aaron hums sympathetically, "I- I don't want you to get attached to me like that. Not because I helped you."

"That's not why I want your help," You promise, wings fluttering to give you a little more air in the drawer. You hover straight onto his palm, using most of your willpower not to jump him right then and there, "I like you, Aaron. And I'd like you even if you hadn't helped me. We wouldn't have met," You realize, "But- but that's not the point! The point is, I need help, and I want it from you."

He takes a moment to consider, then his thumb curves up from where it had been flat beside the rest of his fingers to brush over your outstretched calves. Your breath hitches at the gentle touch he administers, and he keeps a close watch on your reaction.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and you've never nodded more vigorously.

"I'm sure," You scramble to your knees as Aaron curls his pointer finger in towards you. You appreciate the fact that he keeps his nails trimmed well, and he watches with a tight chest as you flip yourself onto your back. You lay with your head against his wrist, hands gripping his bent thumb for stability. It means that his pointer finger, when curled just right, brushes over your leaking slit, and you jolt in his palm.

"You okay?" He pauses, but you nod, "Yes! Yes, I'm okay, I'm- Aaron, please, keep going."

"Okay," He hums, experimentally pushing his finger against your slit. You're already slicked open from your previous activities, so he doesn't have trouble wetting the tip of his finger, but the stretch of his pointer finger is tantalizingly blissful as you writhe in his palm.

"Aaron, I need-" You pant, gripping his thumb like a lifeline, "I need more! More, please!"

"Shh," He soothes, rubbing his thumb down your side as he pushes his thumb further into your cunt, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 13

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn

cw ; none

notes ; april fools prank where i actually post a new chapter!!! (i actually just speedran finishing this one bc i couldn’t sleep. it’s 2:30 am :3)

anyway, more of these pining idiots (france edition)

previous | next | masterlist

“…fontaine?”

at this point, you’ve forgotten why you were even crying. your heart is still hammering in your ears from childe’s words towards you— recalling his exact wording almost makes you want to sob again, but your head is already thrumming with ache too much for that. childe explains further his reasons for wanting to go to fontaine but you can’t bring yourself to focus, still replaying what happened previously in your mind.

“i’ve been having these strange dreams and mood swings… i think they’re related to the abyss.”

now that gets your attention. the mere mention of the abyss seems to create a flash of everything in your mind, from the day he disappeared to the day he came back, to when you saw foul legacy for the first time, to when he told you about the abyss— it hits you so abruptly that you physically flinch.

“w-wait what..? why?” you ask meekly, pit forming in your stomach at what this could possibly entail.

“well… you remember the sword master i told you about, right? the one that taught me all i know— skirk was her name. at one point while i was learning under her, i asked her why she took me in at all.. and her answer was extremely cryptic. she something along the lines of ‘because i awakened it’ and that i was ‘connected’ to it.”

“…’it’?”

“hah, she never told me what it was, that enigmatic lady.” childe tries to laugh it off and lighten the sober mood, but you can still gauge that it’s really a vexing matter to him.

“but i’ve got a hunch— i think it’s a whale.”

the vivid image of his whale attack blinds you momentarily, like you can still feel the chilling breeze of its waving water anatomy as it launched upward and slammed down on the floors of the golden house. no wonder childe used it while in his foul legacy form.

“a whale… is that why it’s one of your moves?”

“perhaps, that was never my intention though. my hunch isn’t due to that attack specifically either— it’s more about what i see in my dreams. within them, i find myself in the deepest depths of the sea, not a trace of anything except seawater, and then… there it is, a colossally big whale.”

“and- and the mood swings, how do you feel?”

“i don’t know— lately there’s just these moments where my mood completely flips around and i just feel… bad, like there’s something pulling at my throat. and then the next second it goes away.”

almost as if childe’s own description affects you, as a pit forms in your stomach and a clawed grip pulls at the back of your throat. besides the glaring bad news of anything abyss related, you have a feeling that… something might genuinely go wrong. like this is a bad idea.

“a-and you’re sure you want to go to fontaine to investigate that?”

“yep, positive.”

all of this feels entirely off and you’re not willing to take any chances anymore. you’re not losing this idiot to the abyss again, even if it means jumping down there to pull him back up yourself.

“then i’ll come with you.”

the way childe’s face entirely lights up at that makes it seem as though it’s all he’s ever wanted to hear in his life. for a moment you even think you spot a reflection of the inazuman street lamps in his irises, making him seem utterly starry-eyed. as he’s about to exclaim something about how glad he is, he pauses pensively for a moment and hesitates.

“wait— we’d have to go through sumeru again… are you sure you’re okay with that?”

you nod with full certainty. “i’ll be okay, because this time i’ll be with you.”

the two of you simultaneously turn away from each other discreetly the rest of the way to the hotel, as both try to suppress the grins that creep onto your faces and the heat that rises to your cheeks.

—

the trip to fontaine is arduous and tiring.

by the time you’re on land again, you and childe bee-line for your new hotel. after a long night’s sleep, you finally get to take in the breathtaking architecture, the unimaginable technological advancements and the extravagant lifestyles of the hydro nation. it’s almost overwhelming how much there is to see. childe, simultaneously, furthers his investigation in how to battle the champion duelists— spars with some of them even. and the more he does, the more you’re confident he’s signing up to get his ass kicked if he’s looking to go for tougher champions.

today, you’re whiskered away and into a fancy café in an impromptu invitation by the knave before you can even think of choosing where to go next. once lead into a private conversation room in the café, you’re met by the sight of the knave herself and… three teenagers? childe doesn’t seem to be as taken aback by their presence as you are, perhaps he’s known of them prior to the meeting— either way he doesn’t even spare the three a glance, being far too busy trying to contain the tension in his posture upon seeing arlecchino.

you don’t blame him for that either, as the fourth harbinger is someone you’ve only heard poorly of. she was never much present in zapolyarny palace, in fact you can only recall hearing of her staying in snezhnaya at all for the fair lady’s funeral. other than that, it’s only snarls and shuddered comments from childe saying that he does not like her entirely.

alas, all conflict represents a failure in diplomacy. and she doesn’t seem like someone fun to fight.

“childe… and— sargeant y/n, is it? be very welcome to fontaine, i’m glad to see you’ve accepted my invitation for this chat. be assured this meeting is solely meant for cordial conversation, so, please, relax.”

the knave gestures for you both to sit on the loveseat facing hers— assorted sweets, steaming tea atop a table between them and a collected smile on her face. her eyes seem to hold more than just… cordiality in them, in fact her gaze has a predatory hint to it. you feel so utterly scrutinized under her stare that you almost forget the three teenagers still standing at a corner of the room.

“as you might’ve noticed, i’ve brought three of my children from the house of the hearth— lyney, lynette and freminet. i’ve brought them here in the spirit of… first contact, they’ve never met one of my fellow harbingers before.”

oh that’s right, the house of the hearth. for a moment you feel bad for those three kids, having to stand nearly unregarded at the corner like actual children at an awkward family gathering, merely because the orphanage that took them in happened to be associated with the fatui. you wonder if they’re well treated in the house— rather you hope they are, being under the wing of someone you’ve only heard be described as psychopathic.

arlecchino and childe engage in small talk, she asks about his recent comings and goings, family, work and such while he responds with cautious answers. you can tell childe is as on guard as he can be, before someone who is unpredictable even to him. meanwhile you only stare boredly into your teacup, tracing its intricate painted patterns with your fingers.

your eyes trail over to the three kids almost involuntarily and you see that they haven’t moved an inch since you’ve arrived, merely watching carefully with unreadable expressions. well, at least the tallest one of them does, you think you’ve seen his face in flamboyantly decorated posters around the city, perhaps for a spectacle in true fontainian fashion. same goes for the girl, who seems to be a cat hybrid, bears an even more unamused expression than yourself and she seems to be much more entertained in watching her own tail sway back and forth lazily. finally, the other boy is crouched down over a rounded device as he tinkers with it with a screwdriver in his hand, you can’t discern exactly what it is though.

finally, you notice that besides what you, childe and arlecchino have nibbled on, the rest of the food on the coffee table remains untouched. you don’t know what it is, but a small voice in your head tells you to walk over to them.

a few silent steps, unacknowledged by the two still chatting, and you’re standing in front of the three teens. their shoulders immediately tense at your looming stature and it’s then that you’re reminded that you’re fatui— much more fatui than any of these orphans will ever be.

“hey, uh, aren’t you guys hungry?” you whisper awkwardly.

the taller boy seems to be taken aback by the question and his previously guarded expression melts into relieved amusement.

“ah— don’t worry about us, sargeant, we’ve eaten.” he chuckles politely.

you nod, feeling a tinge of embarrassment creep at your fingertips at how simple and foolish your question seemed. your eyes scatter as you search for something else to bring up in conversation.

“o-oh um… this may seem silly to ask but— are you two part of any show? i think i’ve seen these posters on the streets with two people a lot like you.”

“why yes, i am known as the great magician lyney and my sister lynette is my assistant.” lyney presents proudly, giving you a humorous bow— a complete 180 of his demeanor before, while lynette remains stoic and merely nods to you.

you’re intrigued by the reveal. you’ve seen street ‘magicians’ both in snezhnaya and liyue, mere entertainers fooling the naked eye for petty change, but to be titled a great magician in a nation as grandiose as fontaine, it must say something about lyney.

“magician, huh? i’ll be sure to catch one of your shows sometime.” you grin.

the other boy, who through your supernatural investigative skills you determine is named freminet, remains unbothered and undistracted from his activity. you quietly crouch down to his level and watch with intrigue as he works on his device, either unaware of your presence or uncaring of it.

“hi,” you whisper in a gentle tone, grabbing the boy’s attention as he raises his head to show so, even if he doesn’t fully face you. “freminet, right? can i ask what is it that you’re working on?”

“a-ah uhm… i-it’s nothing too intricate, just fixing up my diving helmet.” freminet fidgets with the edge of his helmet— still not once making eye contact with you, rather his eyes scatter back and forth toward the ground, much in the same way you were before.

“woah, a diving helmet? i would’ve never been able to guess that’s what it was. it’s so cool looking… can you see well in it?” you gasp with wonder.

as soon as you ask, it’s once again as if the teen’s entire mood shifts, his posture becomes more relaxed and his eye light up as they finally meet your own. freminet visibly attempts to hold himself back from getting too excited.

“yes! i-i can’t see very well with the visor but… it’s the best i can get for a helmet meant to sustain such high levels of water pressure!”

“oh sweet— i’ve heard that fontaine’s waters have so much to explore… how deep can you go with it?”

“i’d say about thirty five meters. the maximum safe depth for humans is sixty, though.”

“that’s already so far! what do you usually encou-“

“y/n? we should get going.”

childe calls out faintly as he stands by the door, fond smile on his face. you say goodbye to the three, who return it parting smiles, even lynette flashes you the most microscopic grin though you didn’t directly speak to her. scurrying to formally say goodbye to arlecchino, you join childe outside the café. in such a hurry, you don’t even catch the intrigued stare of the knave towards you.

as the two of you return to touring the streets of the city, you notice childe chuckle and grin to himself as he looks away aimlessly, any of his attempts to hide it fail completely.

“what’s gotten you so giggly?” you ask amusedly.

childe has always reddened easily, perhaps it’s a trait of his redheadedness or a trait of his shy nature as a kid— just like then, his ears immediately give away his embarrassment and he can’t hope to evade explanation.

“ah well, it’s just…” he trails off, hand coming up to scratch his nape sheepishly. “i find rather amusing how good you are with kids.”

the answer surprises you and your step halts momentarily.

“w-what do you mean?”

“oh c’mon, y/n… look at how you were talking to those kids. they were so hostile and serious before and then when i looked again, there you were chatting with them and making them feel comfortable. i was surprised anyone could even be that comfortable in a room with that lunatic…” childe grimaces briefly.

“and it’s not the first time this happens. my siblings all adore you, especially teucer and tonia. she always asks about you in our letters.”

as if karmic, heat rises to your own cheeks— you’d say it’s due to the vulnerability that childe brings out with his words, but the back of your head focuses the mere fact that childe paid attention to that at all to the point where he’d smile at the thought and summons pesky butterflies to your stomach.

you’ve found that lately, most times you think about childe those butterflies are there again. you’re not an idiot, you’ve read fairy tale books, but now was the least appropriate time to indulge any further— your best friend has heard callings from the abyss again and it’s affected his well-being, get your head in the fucking game, y/n.

“s-sure but you know that’s not always been the case! don’t you remember when tonia was born? she always cried whenever i was around…” you retaliate in an attempt to dismiss your embarrassment.

childe opens his mouth to reply but his attention is caught by something else. following his gaze you spot a gathering of people and it seems to be rather more confrontational than merely social. looking further, you recognize one of the men as a representative of conferie of cabriere, a shady organization with even unclearer relations to the northland bank branch of fontaine city. while you haven’t bothered to visit the branch, childe has passingly spoken of his findings there about said organization.

you also spot an all too familiar head of blonde hair— the traveler and paimon. before you can ask anything, childe steps briskly ahead, though he does not disturb the conversation just yet and watches from the sideline.

“…that you won’t go running off by the end of this month? i want fifty percent. today. no— seventy percent.” you hear part of what the man says.

“huh?! you…” the woman in front of him exclaims incredulously.

“hey, hold on! before you go trying to collect payments, why don’t you settle your own debts first?” intervenes childe in a taunting tone.

“if confrerie of cabriere wants to poach clients from northland bank, that’s fine, but i’m afraid you still owe the bank a hefty sum of mora. so why don’t we work things out between us first before you get back to your little conversation here?”

the man visibly cowers slightly, chuckling nervously.

“ah, you’re from northland bank? but we said we’ll pay you everything we owe next month. why are you hounding me now?”

in the midst of that, paimon waves from where she and the traveler stand and it catches childe’s attention. he immediately saunters over to them with delighted surprise in his face, as if completely brushing his prior interaction off, and you take that as your que to join him.

“oh, traveler! paimon! didn’t think i’d run into you here in fontaine. what are the chances?”

“we’re surprised to see you too! what are you doing here in fontaine? didn’t want to stay in snezhnaya?”

this time you answer. “ah, we were actually in inazuma before this for a little… leisurely trip.”

at that, the traveler eyes you suspiciously and it’s very clear that both of you catch onto her meaning, as childe chuckles nervously and you fidget with your fingertips. as discreetly as you can, you shake your head at the traveler, who drops her glare with slight disappointment.

“haha! yeah, long story short, we’ve been in fontaine for some time now. and honestly— things here have been pretty mundane. but it seems that fate has brought our paths together today!”

childe throws you a delighted look as his chest puffs up proudly. his demeanor has completely changed from its mellower nature from before, like spotting a conflict to participate in has lightened his mood exponentially— painfully in-character for him. he shows to be as excited as a little kid on their birthday, in such a manner that it almost takes away the weight of the fact that he’s excited to beat the shit out of someone. you won’t anote that verbally though, you know very well he’s been craving a fight ever since you landed in fontainian grounds.

“not only will i have more good friends here now, but ones who always seem to find trouble. either way you look at it, it seems things are going to get a lot more interesting now.”

dear tsaritsa, you know him so well.

paimon chuckles nervously. “pretty sure we’d want to avoid anything you’d find interesting… besides, our trip here has gone pretty well so far, right traveler?”

the traveler shrugs. “i don’t mind a little excitement every once in a while.”

you almost reprimand her for encouraging childe’s tendencies, but instead the sound of someone clearing their throat is heard behind you.

“ahem, uh… hey you, northland bank boy. aren’t ya forgettin’ somethin’?”

“don’t interrupt— it’s not often we’re all reunited like this. why don’t you wait for me over there for a while?”

“hah, you kiddin’?! aren’t ya the one lookin’ for us? you really expect us to sit and twiddle our thumbs while you catch up with your friends?! listen to me, boy. if you want your mora, fine— why don’t you come and take it?”

oh well. rest in peace whoever this asshole was.

“hey! i said not to interrupt. oh! by the way, traveler, y/n i forgot to tell you this one too… the last time i took tonia and teucer ice fishing, teucer said—“

“HEY! that’s way over the line! alright boys, let’s see who has to pay up now!”

“ugh, can you at least let me finish one sentence? fine, though the bank told me not to get rough with our clients…”

you’re not exactly worried about the outcome of this fight, so you just continue the topic childe was interrupted from.

“you still take them ice fishing?” you ask him fondly, warm smile on your face.

childe is rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as prep, but he still turns his head to throw you a playful wink. “‘course i do. i’ll tell you all about it after i take care of these guys.”

“alright, want me to hold your earring?” you ask teasingly.

“hah hah..” childe feigns a laugh, rather very obviously fake than convincing.

you may fake it all you want in front of other people, but there was no point in lying to yourself and saying you didn’t feel your heart stutter at that wink, it makes you like a silly teenager. the traveler and paimon almost instinctively expect you to try and hold childe back from getting himself into trouble— but when you don’t move an inch to stop him, perhaps too distracted thinking about how heavily your heart strums against your chest, they both give you a judgemental glare.

“what happened to your common sense?” paimon deadpans and you can’t bring yourself to respond.

as expected, childe single-handedly takes down the confrerie’s gaggle of goons without even breaking a sweat. soon enough, only the leader remains standing, already panting heavily and stumbling on his steps.

“what’s your deal brat..? how are you so strong if you’re just a staffer from snezhnaya’s northland bank?! …wait, don’t tell me you’re a—“

“ohoh, now you notice— s’ a little late, don’t you think? just make sure you understand that you don’t mess with northland bank, got it?”

to finish off, childe summons his dual elemental blades… or rather he tries to.

the water swirls into the silhouette of the blades, but when it means to solidify in shape— the water vanishes. you frown in bewilderment almost immediately, did he just change his mind? no, you look towards childe’s expression and see that he’s just as taken aback as you, looking down to the hydro vision at his waist that sits inactive. his opponent takes the distraction as an opportunity to strike, but much to his dismay it takes childe only a punch to knock him out instead.

seeing that all of the men have been taken down definitively, you rush over to childe’s side— you instinctively give him a once over to check for injuries or anything off. the traveler and paimon join you soon after.

“huh, that was weird…” he mutters.

“yeah… safe to say that wasn’t intentional. you okay?”

“what happened?” adds the traveler.

“i’m not… sure. it’s as if i lost control of my hydro powers when i needed them. maybe there’s something wrong with my vision?”

“strange. how could that happen? first time paimon’s ever heard of someone losing control of their vision.”

childe shakes his head dismissively and sighs. “nevermind, it doesn’t matter. if i wanna stay sharp, i shouldn’t be relying too much on my vision anyway. besides, i always have my delusion in case i need it.”

you throw him a glare. “hey, we know better than anyone that a delusion isn’t the remedy for a vision.”

“so what’re you guys actually doing in fontaine? and don’t say it’s work for northland bank…” paimon asks, in hope of changing the subject.

“well… i guess it’s because i’ve been having these bad moods lately.”

“huh? what kinda reason is that? wait, since when do you feel down about anything?”

“haha… i dunno, maybe i still have a lot to learn about myself. but recently, there seems to be some sort of restless power stirring inside of me— and i don’t know why but every now and then, i feel like i’m a in terrible mood.”

at a realization, that familiar anxious feeling returns to your chest, claws at it. it was only just recently that you felt free from it, yet your mind replays the moment where childe’s vision failed him against your will and causes that old weight on shoulders to return.

“what if… that’s why your vision did that? because of ‘it’?” you suggest meekly and childe nods thoughtfully in consideration of the possibility.

“‘it?’” paimon questions.

childe explains his story with the abyss and his swordmaster, almost verbatim to the way he told you. perhaps partially due to deja vu, you can’t bring yourself to listen intently— your mind is far too addled with fleeting and overwhelming whispers of what could happen to childe after this new development. you instinctively start to fidget with your fingers anxiously, as your eyes stare off into nothing while you’re deep in thought. your time for relaxation was dismantled so fast… like the worried thoughts were stalking you from a distance like patient predators— waiting to pounce and overtake all of your neural functions.

there’s a light tap on your shoulder.

coming to, you realize that the traveler and paimon are no longer standing in front of you and your eyes scatter to find them already taking off into the streets, waving goodbye absentmindedly. secondly, you turn to see childe looking down at you with a somber air in his eyes.

“y/n? seems like you spaced out a bit there… you alright?”

you scoff, though the scoff feels more demeaning at yourself than childe. “your powers are malfunctioning and you’re worried about me?”

he laughs. “yeah well… guess i picked that up from someone. listen— it’s fine, maybe it was just a random hiccup, we don’t know anything yet. i was going to tell you that i’ve got to go keep my appointment with the champion duelist but… speaking of my vision, here.”

a palm opens up in front of you, sapphire-esk gem neatly sitting on it.

“…you’re giving me your vision? why?” you frown.

“heh, i know i just said it could’ve been a hiccup but… it’s still not reliable, i’d hate for it to get in the way of my duel.”

as if childe senses your wholehearted reluctancy, he holds up both of your hands, puts his vision in them and closes them beneath his own.

“besides, there’s nobody in this world i’d trust more to keep it safe for me.”

he holds both of your hands there for a moment, a moment in which you realize how warm his hands are and how cold yours are. it’d be easy to say it’s due to his gloves— but he’s always been like this. you still recall how ajax would complain about your ‘subzero temperature hands’ whenever you tried to tickle him. and the irony is even funnier, for you to have received a vision that summons powers of ice and for childe to have received a vision with control over the waters… essentially the warmer version of your powers. perhaps it’s a coincidence, or perhaps a silly little play put on by the gods.

with all the time you’ve had to ponder over all of this, you realize that the two of you are still holding hands— not a falter or pull from either of you. as you’d been looking down aimlessly once again, when you look up to face childe, your gaze is already met by his. like he’d been looking at you the entire time.

at that, your arms start to tremble, seemingly causing childe to realize the reality of the situation himself. he brings a gloved hand up to cover his cheeks, pretending as if he’s scratching something on his face.

finally, he mumbles something about wishing him luck in his duel and takes off briskly.

his vision feels heavier in your hands now that his aren’t there to hold it with you.

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

[chelseeebe]

pick a side or i’ll pick you both. (part two)

blood, guts and gore. cheating, smut.. idk what there isn’t in here.

summary: what happens when the hunter becomes the hunted? does anyone make it out of hawkins alive?

a/n: idk if i like this hehe. i’ve also not really read it through bc i detest reading anything i’ve written so excuse any mistakes. i’ve written a small epilogue for this which i’m gonna post separately soon!

taglist: @manyfandomsfanvergent @nope-thanks @secretdryrose @bibieddiesgf @val-writesstuff

part one. | part two. | epilogue.

for a memorial, things were pretty wild. suppose with the whole town still reeling from the murders, it was to be expected that people wanted to let loose.

including steve.

who was sat jabbering on about nancy and the amazing memories he held with jason. utter bullshit. but he was incredibly intoxicated so you’d let him off.

you stay away from the drink, nursing a singular beer all night. too afraid to get drunk and let go of your inhibitions. unsure of what you might let slip.

eddie was at least keeping his part of the deal, sat in the corner with jonathan. feeding him shots and occasionally disappearing to the garden to smoke. you watched on anxiously. getting sly looks from eddie every now and again.

they weren’t exactly telling you much.

he nods towards the stairs, standing up and walking away. you waited a moment before following. fobbing steve off to a member of the basketball team sat next to you.

you have to open every last door and eventually find eddie perched against the sink in the bathroom. gnawing on the skin around his fingernails.

‘finally,’ he remarks, throwing his hands up.

you lock the door behind you and stand opposite him, ‘so? what did he say?’

eddie sighs, finishing off his drink, ‘well, the bad news is that he definitely thinks you had something to do with it.’

‘what?’ you hiss, widening your eyes at how nonchalantly he just said that.

‘but,’ he pauses for dramatic effect, ‘he thinks steve’s involved.. some jealous ex thing, he wasn’t really making sense at this point.’

you exhale, so jonathan doesn’t necessarily think you killed nancy. just that you helped steve do it. which wasn’t really any better.

‘fuck,’ you sigh, rubbing your forehead. where the fuck do you go from here besides the obvious?

‘hey, maybe it’s not all that bad.. he doesn’t think it was you exactly, we could just.. convince him it was someone else?’

‘he thinks it was steve,’ you say pointedly, ‘my boyfriend? the entire reason we started this shit in the first place?’

‘yeah so.. we frame someone else. one last kill.. murder-suicide. someone you really have it in for,’ he shrugs, his calm demeanour was really irking. he should be more scared.

you ponder for a second, you didn’t really hold hate for anyone apart from nancy. well, maybe there was a few people. tommy fucking hagan for one. steve’s desperate best friend who you were sure definitely wanted to fuck your boyfriend.

but why would he murder any of these people?

maybe nancy was some weird homoerotic jealousy thing.. higgins because he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble? leaving jason, who you were sure he’d never even spoken to.

‘i don’t know,’ you shake your head, stuck on where to go from here.

killing jonathan was an option. get rid of him before he could spill anymore of his stupid theory to anybody else. he was the only person that had suspected you.

the police had partially moved on from the school. looking further into the community for answers. grilling innocent people on their whereabouts last week.

someone bangs on the door, screaming about needing the bathroom and interrupts your entire conversation.

you hadn’t thought about how you’d get out of the bathroom with eddie. how strange it looked the two of you being in here alone.

you look up at him and then the window. his eyes follow your gaze and he immediately shakes his head no.

‘no. i’m not jumping out of the fucking window, are you crazy?’

‘what else are you gonna do?’

‘why don’t you go out the window? i was in here first,’ he hushes, the desperate party goer now slamming the door.

‘i’m not going out the window,’ you look around desperately for anyway out of this, ‘get in the bath.’

‘what?’

‘bath,’ drawing back the curtain and gesturing for him to get in.

he scoffs but admits defeat as he climbs into the white tub, it was a hell of a lot better than falling thirty feet to the ground.

you pull the curtain back, hiding him behind the thin plastic. gathering yourself for a moment before opening the door.

the desperate attendee in question is jonathan. looking a pale shade of green and covering his mouth. he doesn’t even acknowledge you before pushing past, hunching over the toilet and emptying his stomach.

god bless eddie who was now guaranteed to be stuck in the bathroom for at least another hour.

it gives you a small giggle as you make your way back to steve. now stood up, wildly gesturing around and still boring the pants off of everyone in the room.

-

the party had died down in the early hours and you’d managed to get steve to bed. though, it was a struggle carrying him up the stairs. even now he was talking about nancy and jason. you’d wanted to just let him go. let him fall and then maybe he’d shut up about his dead ex.

eddie had escaped back downstairs at some point and had passed out next to robin on the couch, lying over each other in a mess of drunken limbs.

steve falls asleep sprawled over the bed, one arm draped over your waist, rambling about how good you were and that you always do so much for me.

he had no idea.

you hadn’t really been sleeping lately, far too much swirling around your brain to shut it off. horrifying nightmares of the pool of blood surrounding nancy. the gargling sound higgin’s had made as he met his end. the sheer look of terror on jason’s face as eddie had taken his life.

though you must’ve dozed off at some point. being woken by steve’s groaning.

‘hungover?’ you ask, opening one eye to peek at him.

‘you could say that, yeah,’ his voice rough, one arm extending out to pull you closer.

‘you’re lucky i bought you up here.. you’re heavy as shit,’ you chuckle, running your fingers through his messy hair.

this is why you had to do what you did. for moments like these. where it all seemed worth it.

‘mhm thank you,’ he squints at you, a small smile on his face, ‘definitely feel better waking up next to you.’

you return the smile, humming in response.

‘y’know what would make me feel even better?’ he states huskily, moving on top of you, his smile replaced with a little smirk.

‘hmm? what’s that?’ fingers intertwining in his hair, moving your legs for him to slip between.

he responds by kissing your lips. you ignore the smell of alcohol and last nights party, returning the kiss. you two hadn’t had sex since.. well, since before you’d brutally killed his ex girlfriend. not for lack of trying, though.

his hand slides up your thigh, reaching your pajama shorts while his tongue makes its way into your mouth. his fingers toy with the elastic waistband and you move your hips against him, feeling his growing erection.

your shorts are halfway down your legs when the door knocks. eliciting a deep groan from his throat, although he doesn’t pull back in hopes they’d go away.

they don’t. knuckles wrap against the wood once again.

‘what’d you want?’ he hollers, still on top of you, elbows digging into the mattress either side of your shoulders.

the door creaks open and you’re not at all shocked to see eddie stood in the doorframe, ‘we uh- we wanted to make coffee.. couldn’t figure out your machine,’ he utters and you swear you can see the slightest smirk.

steve exhales sharply, ‘seriously?’

‘yeah man.. people are dying down there,’ eddie states, as if it’s the most serious subject in the world.

steve looks back at you, ‘i’ll be two minutes,’ planting one last kiss before rolling off of you with a grumble.

you pull the duvet up, eddie’s gleaming eyes not leaving you once as steve pulls on his discarded jeans from last night.

‘lead the way, coffee man,’ eddie laughs, still looking at you.

steve pushes past him, making his way down the hallway but eddie doesn’t follow. lingering in the doorway with a smug grin on his face.

‘dickhead,’ you mouth, attempting to bore holes in his head with your eyes. he most definitely waited for the perfect moment to come and interrupt. it was kinda his thing.

‘whoops,’ he shrugs, turning to follow steve down into the kitchen.

good god you could’ve slammed his head into the damn doorframe until that stupid look was wiped right off of his face.

you give steve five minutes before huffing and getting out of bed, walking down to the full kitchen. you can vaguely hear robin and steve arguing over something stupid.

eddie clocks you first, eyeing your exposed thighs before meeting your gaze. same sly grin on his face.

you roll your eyes, ignoring his very existence and wrap your arms around steve’s waist, laying your cheek on his spine.

he jumps slightly but quickly realises who the hell is touching him and settles into the embrace, still trying to demonstrate how to use a coffee machine to robin. ignoring the feeling of a certain pair of eyes boring into your back.

-

you tumbled into the back of his van, suddenly extremely grateful that he’d decided to bring this instead of your moms car. though the risk of being seen in this death trap was much higher.

you’d gone to tommy’s house to try and end this shit tonight. luckily, his bedroom was on the ground floor, there’s be no scaling of any buildings tonight.

it hadn’t particularly gone to plan though. you’d perched on either side of his window for what felt like forever when he stumbled in, carol fucking perkins in tow. of course. shit could never go to plan, could it?

you’d had to call it off. having never tackled a double kill before, you were not going to try tonight. no, it wasn’t worth it. not when all you were doing was trying to end this shit.

you yank the mask off, lifting the black polyester gown over your head, your shirt rising up as it’s launched into the corner. of course he’s watching, desperate for any last slither of skin.

does murder make you horny? was it the fucking mask? is that what this was? a mask kink?

his bottom lip between his teeth was driving you nuts. you wouldn’t ever do this. not normally. but you move over to him on your knees, not bothering to fix your shirt.

he opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt whatever unintelligent spiel he was about to come out with, pressing your lips to his, clambering onto his lap.

his hands immediately find their place on your waist, working on fully removing your shirt. he lifts it up and over your head, resuming the passionate kiss as soon as it reached the dirty van floor.

you waste no time and reach between your bodies, grabbing at his belt buckle and undoing the metal clasp. the kiss messy, full of spit and tongues as you huff, struggling to remove his jeans.

there’s no words spoken, just a silent and slightly aggressive need to get inside of you as quickly as possible. your lacy underwear dragged down your thighs, almost in shreds at the ferocity he’d pulled them down.

your arms hung over his shoulders as he positions himself at the entrance of your throbbing cunt, lowering yourself onto him with a low moan. pausing for a moment to adjust to the fullness.

you don’t wait long before beginning to move, bouncing on top of him, only encouraged by the grunts and filthy words coming out of his mouth. picking up the pace, bare knees scraping against the rough ground of the van.

you throw your head back, whimpering as he begins to buck up into you. his hand slides up from your chest, finding place around your neck, giving it a slight squeeze.

‘holy shit,’ he breathes, your hips clashing against each other as his thrusts get harder, letting him take full control of the situation.

his hand moves down, palming your breast, his teeth almost splitting his bottom lip as he bites down on the skin. deep grunts slipping out of the small gap.

you look back at him, mouth hung open, ‘shit.. i’m gonna..’ the angle hitting perfectly, the denim of his jeans rubbing against your clit at just the right momentum.

‘yeah?’ he barks back, reaching his own climax, thrusts becoming sloppy as your walls clench around him, coming to your own high.

‘fuck,’ you whine, writhing above him, stilling your hips. pausing for a moment to come back to earth. to realise you were in the back of eddie’s old rusted van, his cock still inside of you.

you slide off, perching beside him, scrambling to find your discarded clothes and your long lost sense of dignity.

you pull the strap of your bra back up onto your shoulder, avoiding eddie’s eyes and fumbling for your shirt.

‘that’s not happening again,’ pulling your shirt over your head. it was like an immediate overwhelming feeling of guilt. every time.

‘you said that last time,’ he laughs, sitting back against the inside wall of his van, re-doing his belt.

you glare at him but don’t honour his remark with a response, gathering your things and shoving them into your small bag.

‘that one was all you, remember that,’ he adds, wiping his sweaty face with his t-shirt before pulling it on.

‘maybe if i wasn’t cockblocked, i wouldn’t be so.. frustrated,’ you sneer, crawling over to the double doors.

‘you can just say you want to fuck me.. the world isn’t going to end if you do,’ he shrugs.

‘yours might if you keep speaking like that,’ you warn, going to open the door.

eddie stops you before you can, a hand on your outstretched arm, ‘wait.’

‘what now?’

‘are we really doin’ this with tommy?’ he asks, suddenly completely stoic.

you exhale, ‘i don’t see how else we can end this,’ shrugging, ‘we have to.’

he nods slightly, avoiding your eyes, ‘okay.. as long as you’re sure.’

‘i am,’ you assure, ‘and then we go back to normal.’

-

since school had been called off for the foreseeable an array of parties had cropped up, including another at steve’s house. you think he just didn’t want to be alone. his parents were on another trip out of town and the house was so big, it’d be stupid not to gather everyone together in his house.

tommy was going to be there. you’d made sure of it with steve, asking under the guise of wanting to know all attendees just in case.

eddie was going to lure him away from the party with promises of a free joint. lucky for you, steve’s house backed onto a large, creepy forest where you’d be waiting, ready to get rid of tommy and dressing him in your murdering costume.

sneaking away from steve would be the hardest part, constantly clutching onto your hand and desperate to not get as drunk as last time in hopes he’d get lucky tonight.

eddie was waiting on your cue, you’d go out first and wait for them both in the forest. everything you needed was hidden out there before the party started.

‘i’m gonna go freshen up and get another drink, i’ll be back,’ you smile at steve, patting his arm and wriggling away from his hold.

‘i’ll come,’ he says, following you in standing up, a quickie in his bathroom would very much suffice.

‘no.. no it’s your party, stay here.. i’ll be five minutes.. ten tops,’ you nod, just praying that he wouldn’t insist.

he doesn’t. thank god. and you slip out of the house through the back door and out of the mossy garden gate, making sure the gaggle of teens in his backyard wouldn’t see you. they were too drunk to even care.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you find the tree you’d stashed everything behind, probably slightly unwise to do this all in the dark.

eddie springs into action the second you’d left, having already been chatting to tommy about the promise of weed, it doesn’t take long to get him to follow.

‘nah, let’s go to the woods.. i don’t want everyone bothering me for freebies y’know?’ eddie coax’s him out of the back garden and further into the forest where you were waiting.

a branch snaps to the left of your hiding spot and you can hear tommy’s irritating voice get louder as they get closer.

as soon as you appear from behind the tree, eddie grabs onto tommy’s arms, holding them in place behind his back.

‘woah woah, what the fuck are you doing?’ tommy scrambles, eyes wide and darting around the darkened forest.

‘oh tommy,’ you coo, walking over to the ginger and shoving the makeshift gag over his mouth, muffling his screams, ‘i wish it didn’t have to be this way.’

you throw the frayed rope to eddie and he wraps it around tommy’s wrists, tying it in what you hope is a tight knot. you’d known that realistically eddie couldn’t overpower tommy for long and as soon as the adrenaline hit, he’d be fighting back stronger.

eddie kicks the back of his knee and he falls down onto the ground, kicking his feet in the dirt, trying with all his might to get free from the ties.

eddie was hyper aware of your decision not to use the mask, the party continuing somewhere in the background, ‘we need to be quick,’ he presses, gritting his teeth as tommy thrashes around beneath him.

‘i am,’ you glare at him.

see, the plan was to frame tommy. make out that he’d dragged you into the forest. attacked you first. you’d just acted in self defence and got him before he could get you. even prepared to sustain a few injuries for good measure.

tommy shakes his head desperately, looking up at you with tearful eyes, the knife reflecting off his glossy eyes. he looked utterly pathetic and you’d wondered how many poor people he’d instilled this level of terror in.

tommy was an asshole, through and through. a real bully. and you’d detested the fact steve was still friends with him. even if it was because they’d been friends for so long as steve tried to tell you.

‘it’s not nice being on the receiving end now, is it?’ you poke him with the sharp knife, bent down to his level.

no no. he incoherently mumbles through the gag. he’d seemed to calm down slightly, maybe convincing himself that you were playing some cruel joke on him and he wasn’t actually about to die.

‘it’s a shame, really,’ you pout at him, ‘steve really likes you.. god knows why, i bet he’ll be really sad that you’re gone.. oh well.’

tommy’s breathing is laboured, sweat pouring from his forehead and you step between his legs, gripping onto the handle of the knife.

maybe that was a mistake as his legs clamp together, trapping yours in between his causing you to topple down onto him. cursing as you hit the ground, the knife falling somewhere in the dust.

‘shit,’ eddie hisses, stumbling to find the knife as tommy writhes around, trying to grip onto something, anything that’ll help him.

you get your bearings again, standing up and placing a foot on tommy’s back as he attempts to army crawl away from you.

‘you fucking idiot,’ you say through gritted teeth, eddie finds the knife amongst the leaves and hands it back to you, cussing at tommy for making him crawl around in the dirt.

you plunge the knife into his back, blood immediately soaking through his t-shirt as his arms flap around. a muted scream escapes the gag and you twist the knife slightly before removing it from the wound.

for good measure, eddie gives him a swift kick to the ribs, stopping any attempt at getting back up. you stab him again, this time in the side as if it was a desperate attempt to get him off of you in the pretend struggle.

he groans, head dropping to the floor, eyes drooping as he fights the imminent death. the blood seeps into the ground, colouring the dried autumn leaves a shade of red.

you watch as his movements get slower, weak attempts at shouting for help in his final breaths. until they stop. and he lays lifeless on the mud in front of you.

you swallow before looking at eddie who had that psychotic look on his face. it should’ve scared you, his eyes glinting with pure evil intentions. but it doesn’t. you know exactly how he felt. the euphoric feeling coursing through your veins.

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. when his eyes meet yours, that familiar feeling throbs in your stomach. were you turned on by this? or was it just a need to excrete the energy that had built up inside?

you’re quickly snapped out of whatever weird trance you’re in when the party’s music stops and calls of your name ring out in the back yard.

shit. steve was definitely wondering where the fuck you’d gone. tommy had taken slightly longer than anticipated to get rid of.

you push the knife into eddie’s hand, ‘cut me,’ offering your arms to him.

‘no, what the fuck?’

‘eddie it has to look like a fight, cut me!’ you insist, almost grabbing the knife and doing it yourself.

he hesitates, ‘shit shit shit,’ he exclaims, lifting the knife to your arm.

‘do it!’

he does, sliding the knife across your arms and slashing the skin, drawing blood instantaneously.

you bite down on your lip, humming at the searing pain but urging him to continue. gesturing to your midriff area, blood dripping from your arms.

he glances at you quickly before pulling the knife across the skin, cutting open your shirt in the process. you nod over to tommy, if he was found tied up and gagged, you’d have another problem on your hands.

eddie saws off the rope, stuffing it into his jacket pocket alongside the gag. it had been planned meticulously you see, eddie was going to hand you off to whoever you saw first in the garden, rush off to ‘call the police’ and rid himself of any evidence in his van. everybody too preoccupied with your wounds to notice him disappear.

the police would come and you’d put your sixth grade drama classes to good use, telling them that tommy had pulled you out into the woods and just went crazy, slashing and stabbing at you. but oh no he’d dropped the knife and in your desperate attempt to survive you’d picked it up and stabbed him instead.

you were sure you could improvise if it really came down to it. it wasn’t like you weren’t actually in pain, the gash on your stomach stinging as the hem of your shirt rubbed against it.

eddie throws his arm around your waist, walking back to the now quiet party, ‘so i just.. found you out here, right?’

‘right,’ you breathe, gripping onto his denim jacket and preparing for the performance of a lifetime, ‘you were getting some fresh air.. heard a scream and found me.’

you near the gate and turn to nod at eddie, pulling your best in pain face as he swings open the gate. horrified party goers turn towards you, mouths wide at your gushing wounds.

you can vaguely see steve pushing through the crowd, sprinting over to take you from eddie’s hold.

‘what- what happened? what did you do?’ steve shouts, taking ahold of your arm and slinging it over his shoulder.

‘i-i didn’t do anything.. she was just out there like that.. i don’t know,’ eddie stutters, looking at you to back him.

‘it wasn’t.. it wasn’t eddie, steve.. tommy,’ you nod, putting on your best terrified face, clinging onto steve’s shirt as he sits you down on one of the garden chairs.

‘tommy? what are you saying?’ his eyes go wide at the accusation, crouching down to your level, keeping one hand pressed to the gash on your stomach.

it wasn’t really deep enough to cause any serious problems but christ was there a lot of blood.

‘he.. told me to follow him.. that you were out there, so- so i did.. and then.. there was a knife..’ you trail off, looking down at your wounds, hands beginning to shake.

you were really selling it, god, if this shit was a movie you’d for sure be owed a few awards for this performance. it was easy to cry seeing as eddie’s knife work actually was pretty painful. burning as the blood leaked into your clothes and onto steve’s hand.

it was the longest night of your life. spending hours at the hospital patching you up and making sure there were no internal injuries. and then carted off to the police station the second the nurse had okayed you going home.

steve followed along, waiting on the uncomfortable chairs as you re-told your story for the umpteenth time. ensuring that every detail was the same as the last time you told it. occasionally letting a few tears fall but putting on your best brave face so the officers take pity on you.

they do eventually. telling you that you’re so incredibly strong and they’ll be in contact soon about how they’re proceeding with this all. it worked though. they’d bought your story and you could get back to some sort of normality.

just this time without nancy or tommy fucking hagan trying to interject themselves in your relationship. the thought of having steve to yourself, finally, was enough motivation to sell this damn story and get it done with.

-

you hadn’t really thought about the implications of being the one to finally catch and kill the ‘infamous hawkin’s killer’. turns out just about everyone in the town now worshipped you. you were practically famous.

kids at school would come to you in the hallways, giving their sorry’s and telling you just how heroic you were.

it was sort of nice. well, after pushing aside the burning guilt inside of you.

you couldn’t fester on it too much though. what was the point? even if you did come clean at this point, who would’ve believed you? it was over. no reason to live in the past. it’s not like you could bring anyone back to life, so why not enjoy the glory?

steve was very clearly also enjoying the second-hand fame, making a point to throw his arm around you in the hallway and making sure everyone knew that you two were together.

in the whirlwind of shit you’d kind of neglected everyone else. especially eddie. though, you were kinda glad that part of it was over. you didn’t need to be reminded of the shit you’d done every time you saw dark curly hair. about what you’d done together.

he bounded up to you one day at school, ‘i need to talk to you,’ his voice hushed, hand gingerly grabbing your arm.

‘i’m kinda busy right now eddie,’ you reply, grabbing your books from your locker, trying your hardest not to look at him.

‘it’s important,’ he dips his head, ‘it’s about.. you know..’

‘well then it’s not important,’ you bit back, slamming your locker shut.

‘please.. i-i don’t know what to do,’ he pressed, desperate to get you to listen.

‘find me at lunch or something.. i’ve gotta go,’ you walked off, finding steve who was waiting for you up ahead, disregarding whatever eddie was talking about immediately.

it didn’t matter now.

-

‘steve?’ you call out. if his parents car wasn’t there, which was rarely, you’d just walk in. he’d get you your own key if he could.

you’d move in if it were up to you. since everything had died down a tad, you’d been closer than ever. exactly why you’d done everything in the first place. it was perfect.

there’s no response, which is odd. his car was outside and the door was unlocked. usually he’d come bounding downstairs at the sound of the door closing. nothing.

you pull a face and swing round into the kitchen, wondering if he’d just not heard you. nope. empty.

‘steve?’ you ask again, met with the exact same silence as before.

‘if you’re playing some prank on me, i will punch you,’ you warn, beginning to climb the stairs.

still nothing.

his bedroom door was closed which was also usual if his parents weren’t home but maybe he’d fallen asleep after basketball and couldn’t hear you.

you twist the handle, slowly opening the door so that you could scare him.

you’re met with the image of steve’s limp body bundled into the corner, head hanging down to his chest. your stomach flips, not knowing if he was even still alive.

‘he’s not dead, don’t worry,’ eddie’s voice calls out, appearing from behind the en-suite door.

your eyes widen at the sight of him. what the fuck had he done?

‘eddie.. what the fuck? what have you done?’ you manage to croak out, slowly moving towards steve’s body.

‘i wouldn’t if i were you,’ he comes further out of the bathroom, knife in hand, pointing the sharp edge at you.

you stop dead, holding a hand out as if to offer peace, ‘what do you want?’ you breathe, chest heaving.

he flicks the knife at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down, ‘i’ll explain.. you should sit though.’

you oblige, sitting gingerly on the edge of the mattress, flitting between steve and eddie who was now making his way to you.

‘i-i don’t understand.. what’s going on?’ you blink, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

‘well.. as i’ve been trying to tell you for the past month, the cops found my dna on that knife you used to kill mr. hagan.. had my shit on file from some stupid drug charge last year,’ the corners of his mouth curled into a small grin.

‘wh-what?’

‘oh yeah,’ he nods, now towering above you, ‘haven’t left me alone since.. see, at the school, that shithead janitor saw two people running away from the crime scene and they’ve come to the conclusion that i must be involved. i mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it?’ his eyes are dark, menacing.

you’d never been scared of him before. not even when he’d spilled jason’s guts in front of you. but he genuinely terrifying now. as if he was possessed.

‘eddie.. i didn’t- i’m sorry, we can fix this,’ you nod, a desperate attempt to reassure him, ‘hawkin’s police are fucking stupid.. we, we can come up with some story.. i’ll help you.’

‘yeah, you will,’ he laughs and it sounds demonic, nothing like him, ‘see i’m pretty much fucked.. so i had a thought,’ the knife flings around in his hand, still aimed toward you, ‘wouldn’t it be just so killer, heh.. ya’ see what i did there, if mr. ghostface’s final kill was the queen of hawkins.. the invincible girl, no longer invincible.’

your lower lip begins to quiver, tears welling in your eyes. if you weren’t in this predicament you’d throw up. finally understand the terror you’d inflicted on so many people.

‘you don’t have to do this.. there’s still a way out.. for both of us,’ you swallow, trembling as he is mere inches away from you.

‘oh but i do,’ the cold metal of the knife meets your cheek, stinging as the tears inadvertently roll down your face, ‘it was you who dragged me into this fucking mess and just left me to catch the blame on my own.. you don’t get to live if i’m going down.’

you can’t see him clearly at this point, a blurry vision of dark hair and evil, menacing eyes.

you’re angry. angry at yourself for getting into this situation. angry for ever trusting eddie fucking munson. it’s like a fire rising from your stomach. the same rage you felt as nancy begged for her life.

‘i was gonna make him watch,’ he nods his head towards steve, ‘but i don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon,’ a roar erupts from his stomach, a psychotic laugh as the knife runs down your cheek surely drawing blood.

‘please,’ you plead, trying one last time to make him listen, just let you go and it could all be forgotten about.

‘n’aww, it’s kinda pathetic that you, of all people are begging for me to save you,’ he laughs again, moving the blade to your exposed neck.

your face scrunches in anger and the back of your forearm comes up to knock the knife out of his hand. it clatters to the floor and you take the opportunity to stand, barging past eddie and going straight for the door.

‘you bitch,’ he spits, jumping up and just about managing to grab onto your sleeve, jerking your back towards him.

his fingers dig into your arm, spinning you around to face him. a ferocity on his face that you hadn’t seen before. he wasn’t even this angry with jason.

his free hand comes up, landing a solid backhanded shot at your face. knocking the wind out of your stomach. you stumble for a moment, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in your head.

in the chaos, you trip over steve’s extended foot, landing on his carpet with a thud. eddie takes advantage of the higher ground, shoving you over fully. dropping to his knees, placing them either side of your rib cage, his full weight on top of you.

you struggle to regain your breath, balling his t-shirt in your fist, mouth wide as your lungs refuse to fill back up.

‘eddie..’ you manage to gasp out, voice hoarse. a desperate plea.

he scoffs, ‘it’s too late.. i can’t help you now,’ his hands come up to your neck, aggressively pressing down against your trachea, knocking any last air from your throat.

his hands tighten. his breathing heavy as your vision goes black from the lack of oxygen. your nails dig into his wrist in a last ditch attempt to get him off of you.

‘this could’ve all been so easy.. this is your fault,’ he frowns, staring down at you as your legs kick out beneath him, ‘i did this.. for you,’ he’s panting as if he was the one being strangled to fucking death.

the fuzzy feeling in your head started to feel good, like there was no point in fighting this anymore. it was almost calming. warm and welcoming.

your eyes close fully, surrounded by darkness and that uncertain feeling of what was to come next. this was it. this was your karma. it was deserved. you’d taken so much from other people, now it was your turn.

eddie’s body is thrown off of you, a jumble of voices invade the room but you’re too weak to even open your eyes. falling into what you assume was a certain death.

-

well, you weren’t dead. the bright white lights pretty much solidified that fact when you opened your eyes. you knew damn well that there were no pearly gates waiting for you on the other side.

you blink, unsure of what you were even looking at. the beeping sound confirms that you were in hospital, the sterile smell filling your nose as you come around.

two heads appear above you, though you can’t fully make out who the fuck it is.

‘ma’am?’ one of the heads calls out, his voice ringing in your ears.

your mouth tastes like metal. dry and gross. it makes you want to barf.

‘ma’am..’ he says, more certain this time, ‘we’d like to ask you some questions about your involvement with an edward munson?’

[formula1bby]

Fortune Favors the Brave Ch. 1

Carlos Sainz x driver!fem!oc

wc: 8216

SLOW BURN MULTIPART STORY, begins in 2019 but we will be jumping around slightly just bc I will not survive writing out every season until the current one XD Later on in the story there will be references to an oc for a different story that I will also be releasing a teaser for within the next couple of weeks but as of right now she is not relevant to Aaliyah's story.

Warnings: descriptions of a panic/anxiety attack, obnoxious reporters, lots of swearing XD

A/N: welp, it's finally here! After almost a year of me talking about this I actually finished editing chapter 1! Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be included in the tag list for this!

Formula One is a dream for many drivers, yet so few of them actually get to achieve that dream. It’s such a cruel fate that these drivers face but for those that are able to turn their dreams into reality, it’s everything. One such lucky driver was 18 year old Aaliyah Thompson. She had the fortunate opportunity to be a full time driver for Toro Rosso in 2017, straight out of winning the Formula Renault 2.0 Litre championship in 2016. She quickly showed her merit and earned eight points at her first Grand Prix (in a less than adequate car), proving those that doubted her wrong. Although, some say that Aaliyah making it into Formula One was just as cruel a fate as never achieving that dream. Being the first female driver to actually start a grand prix since Lella Lombardi in 1976 as well as the youngest driver to have ever entered a grand prix, being only 16 years old in her first season, meant people held her to a very different set of standards. Any mistake meant that her seat would be questioned immediately and the media, who were always breathing down her neck like wolves, would get that misstep they’d been waiting for and pounce.

Aaliyah would be lying if she ever said she regretted her decision to sign with Toro Rosso. Sure, it was hard and the competition she faced in F1 was much more difficult than Formula Renault, but this was her dream and she’d be damned if she let anyone or anything dampen that for her.

Walking through the parking lot, Aaliyah groaned at the horde of media surrounding the entrance to the paddock. Maggie, her PR manager and best friend, lightly smacked Aaliyah’s arm to remind her cameras were everywhere, including the Netflix camera that was going to be following them for the whole weekend.

“Play nice, please,” Maggie said. “You don’t have to answer any questions yet since your first media appearance isn’t until noon, but at least look like you’re happy to see people.”

“I know, I know,” Aaliyah agreed, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m just not ready for everyone to ask about it.”

Maggie looked sympathetically at the 18 year old as they walked into the paddock for the first race of the 2019 season. They scanned their badges and, as expected, people immediately started asking Aaliyah about her crash and shoving microphones in her face.

“Are you nervous to drive in another grand prix after your crash in Mexico last year?” one reporter tried to ask Aaliyah.

“She’s not answering any questions right now,” Maggie explained, pushing the reporter away. “She has a scheduled media appearance at noon, you can talk to her then.”

Aaliyah could feel her throat tightening as people still tried to shout questions at her and blocked their path to the AlphaTauri hospitality. Maggie tried to explain loudly to them that they weren’t taking any questions right now, but the reporters either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. Aaliyah felt her breathing shorten as she began to hyperventilate. She looked calm to the cameras but anyone that knew her could tell she was anything but. Aaliyah tapped Maggie’s bicep three times, a signal the two had come up with that would let Maggie know they needed to get out of whatever situation asap. Maggie noticed it and immediately grabbed Aaliyah’s arm and pulled her through the swarm of reporters, no regard for who she bumped into.

Once they were out of the swarm, Maggie fell back in step beside Aaliyah so she could check on her.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. Aaliyah shook her head in response, trying to hold back tears until they got to hospitality. “Do you want to stop walking?” Another head shake. “Alright, let’s get you to hospitality then.”

Aaliyah nodded and the two sped walked to hospitality and were greeted by cool air conditioning as they finally got away from all of the prying cameras, telling the Netflix camera to give them space. Some of the AlphaTauri workers tried to greet Aaliyah but were instantly silenced by the look Maggie gave them. She pulled Aaliyah into her driver’s room and set her down on the couch.

Aaliyah’s face was blank as she tried to focus on her breathing. Hot tears were falling down her face when she couldn’t calm down. She could faintly hear someone talking to her but couldn’t make out any of the words. Her vision was blurring and she started grabbing at her head and pulling at her hair, wanting this panic attack to stop. She felt her hands being gently pulled away from her head and soothing circles being rubbed into her palms. One of her hands was placed on the person’s, Aaliyah supposed it was Maggie’s, chest so that she could feel her breathing and replicate it. Aaliyah did her best to take slow, deep breaths and found herself calming down.

“Liyah?” she heard Maggie say. “If you can hear me, know that you’re safe. We’re in your driver room and there are no cameras and no media in here. It’s just me and you.”

Aaliyah nodded, letting Maggie know that she could hear her. Closing her eyes, Aaliyah continued to focus on her breathing and Maggie’s soothing voice. It felt like an eternity before Aaliyah opened her eyes and saw Maggie, crouched in front of her, holding her hands to ground her.

“Thank you,” Aaliyah shakily said. “I d-d-don’t kn-know what ha-hap-happened.”

There was that damn stutter again. Aaliyah didn’t miss it but knew that she got like this when she was shaken up. Just another unseen side effect of her concussion from last season.

“It’s alright, Liyah,” Maggie assured, sitting down next to the girl and rubbing circles on her back. “I should have gotten you out of there sooner, that one is on me.”

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” she said, taking time to think about what she was saying to stop her stutter. “Unfortunately the media just fucking sucks.”

Maggie laughed as Aaliyah continued to calm down from her panic attack. The two friends talked about anything not related to racing or the media until Noah, Aaliyah’s trainer, knocked on the door lightly. Maggie got up and opened the door to let the British man into the room, the Netflix cameras following him.

“How’s my favorite driver doing?” he asked as he set his bag on the massage table.

“Had a panic attack already so I’m doing peachy,” she said with a laugh and a cheeky smile.

Noah looked over to Maggie to see her response to this and Maggie just smiled and shrugged her shoulders, just glad to see Aaliyah back to herself. Maggie bid Noah and Aaliyah goodbye after reminding the two to not let Aaliyah be late to the media conference with both of them telling her they would be there on time.

“Alright,” Noah said, pulling a resistance band out of his bag for Aaliyah to use. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your hair up however you’re gonna have it for the track walk later before we get started.”

Aaliyah nodded and started putting her hair in braids while chatting with Noah.

“Shit,” Aaliyah said as she got to the end of the first braid. “I don’t have any hair ties.”

Noah was immediately handing her one he kept on his wrist at all times for her. It was something he learned very quickly after becoming her trainer, that she always lost hair ties and never found them again so he had to always have one or two on him. Aaliyah and Noah talked some more about the schedule for the day as Aaliyah finished her other braid, accepting the other hair tie from Noah.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” Aaliyah responded. “I’m still nervous but if I don’t get back to it now and start strong, I might never be back to normal.”

“Makes sense,” Noah said, handing Aaliyah the resistance band. “I’m proud of you, though.”

Aaliyah smiled at Noah, who was more of a friend than just a trainer to her. She started doing exercises with the resistance band as she talked some more with Noah. He told her about how his fiancee, Bridget, was doing and showed her pictures of their son. Aaliyah checked her phone to see that her boyfriend had texted her. Smiling, she opened the message app and responded to his good luck message, ending it with an “I love you”.

“That Jake you’re messaging?” Noah asked the teen.

“Yeah,” she said, putting her phone away. “He couldn’t come to this weekend’s race. Said he had a shoot he and his team were doing and couldn’t change the date.”

Noah nodded, understanding that since Jake was a content creator he also had an incredibly busy schedule. That being said, he was a little annoyed because he knew Jake had promised Aaliyah he would be there for her first race of the season. Noah always looked out for Aaliyah, seeing her as his kid sister since he was almost 10 years older than her. When she had started dating Jake right after Abu Dhabi the previous year, he was hesitant to accept him but quickly realized how happy he made Aaliyah. That made him okay in Noah’s book.

“Do you want to go say hi to the other drivers?” Noah asked as he packed his bag back up.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” Aaliyah agreed, putting her hat and sunglasses on.

The two left the driver room and walked around the paddock, a Netflix camera following them the whole time. Aaliyah saw Daniel from a mile away, walking with Kevin, and ran up to him, jumping onto his back. He stumbled a bit before holding onto her legs to keep her from falling off, both of them laughing wildly.

“Hey, kiddo!” he greeted. “How you going?”

“Doing alright,” she responded, sliding off of Daniel’s back and giving him a proper hug. “Bit of a rough morning but I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“Media pestering you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I need to fight anyone?”

“Not yet.”

Aaliyah greeted Kevin with a hug as well, always having a soft spot for the older man. The three chatted as they walked to the media area. They were grouped together for the press conference, which Aaliyah was very excited about. Checo completed the group for the press conference and they chatted as they waited for their cue to go sit down. Checo noticed that Aaliyah’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes but told himself he would talk to her later so that he didn’t take her focus away from the task at hand. He was glad that he was in her group for the press conference, feeling like he had a duty to help protect her from the media.

“Checo?” Aaliyah asked, speaking Spanish. “You alright?”

“Just a bit nervous for the first race of the season, mija,” he said, not wanting her to know he was worried about her. “You know how it is: the media is gonna throw a lot at us today.”

Aaliyah’s face screwed up in disgust, knowing all too well the types of questions she’d be asked today. Maggie had prepped her as best as she could but everyone knew that it would still be rough on her.

“Yeah, fuck them.”

Checo let out a loud laugh, drawing Daniel and Kevin out of their conversation to look at the two with confusion and amusement. Their PR managers quickly shushed them, knowing that if they were too loud everyone inside the press room could hear them. A few minutes later, the previous group cleared out of the press room and the group of four entered. They took their seats, Aaliyah sitting between Checo and Kevin, and put their mics on, giggling to each other about a snarky comment Aaliyah had made directly before they all walked in.

“Welcome,” a reporter said after they’d all settled down. “How are you guys?” A mix of ‘good’ and ‘excited’ were said in response. “I have a question for all of you: how are you feeling going into this race, it being the first one of the season?”

“I’ll start,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I’m excited. You know, we have a good car this year and I’m looking forward to making some pretty epic moments with the team.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed, going down the line. “I think it’ll be a good season. The car felt good during testing and I’m sure there will be a learning curve for it, but I’m optimistic this year.”

“I’m excited,” Aaliyah said with a grin. “It’s gonna be a great season and I’m super stoked to be teamed up with Alex this year. He seems like a great driver and I’m counting on a lot of fun battles on track.”

“It will be a very interesting season,” Checo said. “I’m looking forward to this race and I hope to earn some good points this weekend.”

The next five minutes were filled with questions for the four drivers. Aaliyah was both relieved and surprised that there had been no questions about her Mexico crash. Her relief was short-lived, however, when a particularly invasive reporter asked a question.

“I have a question for Aaliyah,” he started. “How are you feeling starting a new season so soon after your crash in Mexico? Don’t you think it’s too early for your mental state to handle the stress? Have you questioned your place and ability in this sport since your crash and the comments that everyone made about you?”

Checo was about to speak up to defend Aaliyah when she lightly touched his leg with a finger under the table, telling him it was okay.

“I don’t know, because that was definitely more than one question,” Aaliyah started, pointing out his lack of press conference etiquette. “How do you feel about trying to make someone relive trauma for your story?”

“So you’re not gonna give me an answer?” the reporter asked.

“Hell no,” Aaliyah responded with an incredulous chuckle. “If you can’t be respectful when you interview someone that recently went through something incredibly traumatic then you don’t deserve answers to your questions.”

“I’m just trying to get answers to questions we’re all wondering.”

“Stay wondering then.”

Checo gave Aaliyah a look, silently asking if she was okay. She subtly nodded back, taking a deep breath as the next reporter asked a question. Kevin kept looking over at Aaliyah throughout the rest of the media conference, making sure she was fine.

“We have time for one last question,” the facilitator told everyone.

“My question is for Aaliyah,” a female reporter spoke up. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about your crash and how you’re feeling, it was obviously traumatic for you, but I was just wondering if you would be willing to tell us a bit about how you got back on your feet afterwards. It was truly inspirational seeing you come back to the track as soon as possible last season and I would love for you to share with us what motivated you in your quick recovery.”

Aaliyah smiled softly at the woman. Finally, someone that treats me like a person. She thought.

“I appreciate you asking that in such a respectful way,” Aaliyah started, giving a pointed glare to the reporter that had been so rude to her before. “Yeah, honestly it has been a super long healing process for me. Physically, I was completely healed before Abu Dhabi. Mentally,” a pause. “Mentally I’m still healing. Like I’ve said, and been very open about, it was incredibly traumatic. Thankfully I’ve had an awesome support system with my friends, family, my team, and my boyfriend. It’s really because of them that I was able to get back in the car so soon after my crash. Plus, I’ve always said that part of the reason I’m here is to show girls that they can do whatever they want and that nothing can keep them down for long. So long answer short: I had lots of support from friends and family and wanted to make sure I’m a good role model for other girls and women.”

“Thank you,” the reporter responded. “I wish you all the best as you continue to recover.”

Aaliyah nodded in thanks as the facilitator ended the press conference. The four drivers took their mics off and walked out of the room, meeting their PR managers outside. Maggie gave Aaliyah a hug, sorry she couldn’t stop the first reporter from asking about her crash.

“Liyah,” Kevin started, getting the young driver’s attention. “You okay?”

“Honestly,” Aaliyah said, side-hugging Maggie. “Not really. But I’ll get over it. It’s not too different from any other season where reporters don’t respect me.”

“That’s not something you should get used to,” Kevin noted.

“I know,” she said, resting her head against Maggie’s shoulder. The blonde wrapped an arm around her friend for comfort. “But if I don’t get used to it, I’ll continue to be affected by it. And I’m sick of crying after every press conference and interview.”

The three drivers looked at her with a tinge of pity. Even though they knew that media duties were always rough for the 18 year old, they were unaware of the extent of the toll it took on her. Maggie glanced at her watch and pulled Aaliyah away from the uncomfortable situation by saying that she had to do her track walk soon and needed to meet up with her team. Aaliyah gave them all a hug in parting and said she’d talk to them later that evening.

“I’m gonna get that reporter fired,” Maggie said, referring to the rude reporter. Aaliyah laughed as Maggie continued her incredibly unprofessional rant. “Seriously! Who does he think he is? Talking to you like that. I’ll shave my head before I let anyone disrespect you like that.”

Aaliyah laughed loudly as the two friends walked back to the AlphaTauri hospitality. The two made it back and Alex was sitting in the lounge area, eating some of the snacks available to them. Aaliyah smiled as she parted ways with Maggie, who was likely off to plan something for Aaliyah to do, to sit down across from her rookie teammate.

“Hey, Alex!” she greeted as she sat down. “How are you?”

“Oh hey, Liyah!” he said around a mouthful of crisps. “I’m doing alright, less nervous today than I thought I would be, but I’m sure I’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

Aaliyah laughed a bit at his response. It was odd, she was the younger one on the team but was the more experienced driver. Alex looked up to her to follow her lead. Not literally of course, Aaliyah was much too short for that to be a possibility.

“It’s honestly not that bad once you’re in the car,” Aaliyah assured, sitting back on the couch and crossing her legs. “Yes, the cars are different from other Formula series’ but it’s racing just like you’ve done your whole life. You’ll do grand, I’m sure.”

“I appreciate that, thank you,” Alex said honestly. “How was your press conference, by the way?”

“Long answer or short answer?” Aaliyah asked, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve got time.”

Aaliyah laughed at Alex’s response before telling him about the press conference, going into great detail (per his request) about the rude reporter she had called out. Alex was just as appalled as Maggie and was ready to get up and punch the reporter for his treatment of Aaliyah.

“He really said that to you?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” she responded. “I was kind of expecting questions about it, but definitely nothing like that. It kind of shook me up a bit.”

“Understandable.” A pause. “I’m gonna fight him.”

“I think you’ll have to get in line,” Aaliyah joked. “Checo, Dan, and Maggie have first dibs. Maggie said something about getting him fired and shaving her head before she let someone talk to me like that.” Alex laughed at this, easily seeing the fiery blonde saying that. “It was all very unprofessional but sweet nonetheless so I’m not gonna snitch on her.”

Maggie, of course, chose that moment to walk back into the lounge area. Aaliyah laughed at the timing as her PR manager raised an eyebrow at her and went to stand behind Aaliyah on the couch. She rested her hands on her shoulders, gripping them lightly, before speaking.

“What’s this I hear about you snitching on me?” she asked.

“No, I said I wasn’t snitching on you,” Aaliyah clarified with a chuckle.

Maggie released Aaliyah from her grasp before immediately jumping back to business. Alex laughed at the interaction between the two, clearly seeing how close they were. Maggie finished telling Aaliyah her schedule for the rest of the day and stayed to chat for a few minutes longer.

“How long have you guys known each other?” Alex asked.

“I think we met my second to last year of karting?” Aaliyah asked Maggie to clarify.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed. “It was one of the races where you beat my brother. He was not happy about it but I remember thinking I wanted to be friends with you.”

“And now she won’t leave me alone,” she joked to Alex.

Maggie smacked Aaliyah on the back of the head, rolling her eyes. Aaliyah let out an undignified noise at the contact and rubbed the back of her head where it had been hit, protesting that she recently had a concussion. Alex let out a loud laugh at the two’s interaction. Maggie gave Aaliyah a light tap on top of her head and said goodbye, saying she was leaving to get lunch for her and Aaliyah.

“Were you nervous before your first race weekend in F1?” Alex quietly asked the younger girl once Maggie had left.

Aaliyah smiled at Alex softly. She knew the nerves and the media were likely getting to him much more than he had been letting on.

“I was terrified,” Aaliyah said with a chuckle. “I was paired up with a more experienced and older driver, I was driving for the junior team of a team that had recently been champions for four consecutive years, and I was gonna be surrounded by a bunch of guys I didn’t know. Obviously my experience is different from yours, but if I ended up doing well, you’ll do just fine. You’re more experienced than I was when I joined.”

“Thanks, Liyah,” he said sincerely.

“Of course, Alex,” she responded.

“Is Jake going to be here at all this weekend?” Alex asked as he shoved more crisps into his mouth.

“No,” Aaliyah said, tired smile on her face. “He said he had a shoot he was doing for a big video and they couldn’t change the shoot date so close to it.”

“Didn’t you say he promised he’d be here for your first race of the season?”

“I did say that, yes. Apparently money is more important than supporting me and attending our first race weekend as a couple.”

“That’s messed up.”

Aaliyah nodded, clearly annoyed by her boyfriend’s decisions. As Alex looked at her, his eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. He had met Jake a few times during pre-season events and each time made him wonder what on earth Aaliyah saw in him. She was so much more mature, successful, and overall pleasant to be around than the guy she chose to date. They seemed happy, so Alex didn’t say anything. He really wanted to though. Aaliyah already felt like his sister and even though he knew she didn’t need him to protect her, he felt like he had an obligation to look out for her.

At that moment, Aaliyah’s phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that Max was calling her. Sighing, she put the phone to her ear.

“What do you need?” she asked.

“How come you think I need something every time I call you? Can’t I just want to talk to my best friend?” the Dutch man asked.

“You can but you never do,” Aaliyah responded with a laugh.

“I’m coming over and we’re talking about it.”

The smile fell off of Aaliyah’s face after hearing that. She knew Max knew her better than almost everyone, besides her family and Lance, and he knew how much she was really affected by the media that day.

“Okay.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

Aaliyah sighed and ended the call. Alex looked at her, worried.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Max being an annoyingly good best friend,” she responded.

That was an unexpected twist for Alex, but he decided to leave whatever the two friends were going to talk about between them. Aaliyah and Alex made small talk in the lounge area until Max barged into the AlphaTauri hospitality and made eye contact with Aaliyah. Alex laughed as Aaliyah hung her head and followed Max to her driver’s room as he scolded her for not telling him what happened in the press conference and how he had to find out from Daniel. He closed the door to her room and crossed his arms as he looked at her. She took her hat off and set it down as she turned to look at Max, more accurately to avoid his gaze by looking anywhere but him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I was going to tell you,” Aaliyah started. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Aaliyah,” he sighed.

“I know! Okay?! I know!” she snapped. “You told me to tell you if something like this happened and you told me to not be snarky. But I couldn’t help it! He was being an ass!”

Max waited for Aaliyah to calm down from her outburst, knowing she needed it and wouldn’t do this in front of anyone else aside from Lance, Checo, and maybe Pierre. Aaliyah looked at him and Max saw how vulnerable she really felt. He said her name softly and pulled her into a tight hug. She let her tears fall, completely overwhelmed by the day already. Max held his friend until he knew she was okay and she started pulling away. He watched as she wiped her face free of tears and turned to look in the mirror in her driver room to wipe away any mascara that had smudged.

“You feel better now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing her water bottle and taking a sip. “Thanks for always being there for me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Max said, giving the younger girl another hug. “You’re stuck with me.”

“There’s worse people to be stuck with,” she joked. “Can you even imagine if I was stuck with Robert?”

Max laughed out loud at this. It’s not that either of them disliked Kubica, but he definitely would not be at the top of Aaliyah’s list of people she’d go to when she needed someone. The two friends waited in Aaliyah’s driver room until she was completely composed and no longer looked like she had just been crying. Aaliyah led Max to the front door of the hospitality and gave him a hug before sending him on his merry way. Turning back around, Alex was scrolling on social media on the couch and gave Aaliyah a smile as she walked back over to the sitting area. She followed his lead and pulled out her phone to scroll through various media feeds, eventually settling on watching videos on YouTube.

At some point Maggie and Alex’s PR manager brought food back for lunch and the four of them ate together in the lounge area. When they were done, they cleaned up and Aaliyah went to her driver room to grab her hat and came back out to see her team ready to go to the track for their track walk. Aaliyah put her hat on and grabbed a water bottle from Maggie’s hand. Putting on her sunglasses, Aaliyah told her team she was ready and they all bid their goodbyes to those present in the hospitality and made their way to the track.

Walking through the paddock was rough. Aaliyah was the hot topic of the season start despite the season’s three rookies, the dramatic end of her Mexico Grand Prix the prior season not losing any of its headlining ability yet, causing reporters to flock to her in the hopes they could glean a bit of that popularity for themselves. Aaliyah did her best to ignore the media as her team formed a sort of barricade around her to protect her from prying eyes and loud, invasive questions. When they finally got to the track, her team allowed Aaliyah to walk onto it first to escape the reporters. They quickly followed her lead and began their track walk.

Aaliyah couldn’t help but let her mind wander a bit on the track. She always ended up making her team do multiple laps on track so that she could get a good feel for it, something that the media had lovingly dubbed “fortune telling” (the term going hand-in-hand with the nickname “Miss Fortune” that they had also given her) since she almost always had a more accurate reading of the track than her competitors.

“What do you think, Liyah?” Jacques asked his driver, his British accent a familiar voice to her ears.

Aaliyah was snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at her race engineer with wide eyes. She smiled sheepishly and Jacques laughed, knowing she didn’t have a clue what they had been talking about.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“It’s alright,” Jacques said with a smile. “I was asking what you thought about this turn and how you think you’ll be able to go with it?”

Aaliyah stood still and examined the entrance, apex, and exit of the turn with careful eyes. It was a sight to see, the girl becoming incredibly serious very quickly, a sight that her team tried to never take for granted. They enjoyed watching her process, especially because she always gave them great insight about the practicalities of the track and how she could realistically drive it. Crouching down, Aaliyah placed a hand on the track lightly. She wasn’t a superstitious person, but she was a little stitious. She didn’t think the track could literally talk to her, but she could almost feel how the track felt on those days. It didn’t make sense to any of the other drivers or the engineers, some of them regularly teasing her for it, but ultimately they accepted that her readings were pretty accurate more often than not. Aaliyah studied the track with scrutiny, hoping to glean any information that she could from it.

“How does it feel?” Jacques asked the girl.

“Not sure yet,” Aaliyah responded. “Not bad, not good, just… nothing right now. May need to do a few more laps before I can really tell.”

Jacques nodded, accepting her answer. She would always tell him what the track felt like to her so that he could change strategies accordingly. Her strategists also made sure to take her readings into account, knowing all too well what could happen if they didn’t. On good weekends, Aaliyah described the track as warm, not like warm weather, more like the fuzzy feeling you get when surrounded by the people you love. An inviting feeling, for sure. Those were the weekends that everyone could expect her to do extraordinarily well and she normally delivered the expected or better results. Naturally, those were Aaliyah’s favorites. Some weekends, the track didn’t feel warm, but it also didn’t feel like the cold that filled her when the track felt bad. Those weekends were a toss-up about what would happen. When the track felt bad, it was a cold that washed over Aaliyah as if she was in primary school and about to give a speech. It made her nervous, but she wasn’t filled with dread. Those races, more often than not, she didn’t deliver the results that were expected of her.

The worst of the feelings, Aaliyah had only experienced a handful of times in her entire racing career, but it was an unforgettable feeling. It was the cold dread that didn’t just wash over her, it poured down on her continually the entire weekend. Imagine standing on the edge of an unstable cliff with no safety gear ensuring your safe return home and certain doom if you were to fall. That was the worst feeling Aaliyah had ever experienced. She felt it at Mexico the year prior and back in Formula Renault once or twice. Every time, she had a bad crash and didn’t finish the race.

Aaliyah was jumpscared out of her reverie by Daniel Ricciardo biking past her with a loud “Whooop!” Placing a hand on her chest to calm down, Aaliyah flipped Daniel off as he sped away. He glanced back at the girl and his grin somehow got bigger as he laughed loudly at her reaction.

“I hope you fall!” Aaliyah yelled after him, not really meaning it. “Aussies, am I right?”

Her team laughed with the British girl before getting on with the rest of the track walk. They walked around the track twice so that they could get better bearings on the track conditions. Deciding they got all the information they needed, Aaliyah’s team told her they were going to head back to the garage to come up with a plan for practice and to let them know when she got a better read on the track herself. Noah stayed behind with her to chat as the rest of their team left.

“You get a good reading yet?” Noah asked his friend.

“It’s weird,” Aaliyah started, looking at Noah. “For a second there I thought it felt pretty good but now? Now I just feel nothing. Not good or bad.”

“We’ll let the strategy guys know then,” he said with a smile. “I’m always amazed by your readings, have I ever told you that?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she responded with a chuckle. “I could stand to hear it more often. Too many people say it’s weird.”

“Fuck them, then,” Noah grimaced. “It’s incredible because you’re almost always more accurate than the others.”

“You’re too good to me, Noah,” Aaliyah said with a smile.

“Nah,” he disagreed, pulling the girl into his side in a hug. “I’m not good enough to you. Even if you’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“There it is,” she laughed, knowing he could never be sentimental for too long.

The two laughed as they made their way off the track and into the garage to greet the engineers. Aaliyah said hello to both sides of the AlphaTauri garage before heading back to the hospitality to do some of the social media duties Maggie had told her about prior to the track walk. She waved to some fans and took pictures with some people that were in the paddock before finally reaching the refuge that was the hospitality.

Noah let her walk in first to escape the mass of people and cameras that were trying to follow her. Alex was no longer in the sitting area of the hospitality but Maggie was there to greet Aaliyah and Noah. The three went to Aaliyah’s driver room to get Aaliyah ready for the social media videos. Aaliyah sat down on the couch and took off her hat and sunglasses, setting them on a small table next to her.

“Drink water,” Maggie told Aaliyah, handing her a water bottle. “You look pale.”

“Thanks, mum,” Aaliyah said with a light smirk.

She didn’t actually argue with Maggie and drank the water given to her. Noah and Aaliyah chatted as Maggie finalized a few things on her phone and let in one of the team photographers to take some natural pictures to start off the weekend. Maggie finally finished whatever it was she had been doing and turned to Aaliyah.

“Okay, Liyah,” she started. “You have one more social media video to make showing off your helmet for the year and then you’ll be free for the rest of the day.”

“Free as in I get to leave or free as in I have to stay in case something comes up?” she asked with a cheeky smile.

“Free as in you get to leave, brat,” Maggie said, lightly smacking Aaliyah’s head with her folder. “Your helmet is in the bag on the table. Also make sure you bring a new sharpie tomorrow, you’ll have to sign some things before and after practice.”

Aaliyah nodded as she got up and grabbed her helmet for the 2019 season. It was her favorite helmet that she’d had so far, with swirling reds and yellows adorning the majority of the surface area. Her six-year-old brother, Leo, had helped her design it with input from their ten-year-old brother, Hunter. She sat back down on the couch and held the helmet in her hands to show it off to the camera that was about to be recording her. Maggie gave her a thumbs up, telling her it had started and Aaliyah began talking.

“Hello, everyone, Liyah here!” Aaliyah started with a grin. “I hope you’re all as excited as me for the start of the new season and I wanted to share with you guys my helmet for the 2019 season.” She lifted it up higher to better show the camera what it looked like. “It was actually designed by my two younger brothers and refined by my sister and myself. My youngest brother really clung to the Red Bull colors of yellow and red and did some sweeping waves for the beach town we grew up in in England and my other brother included a paw print of the family dog that he somehow coerced her to cooperate for.” She turned the helmet so the visor was facing her and pointed out the paw print with the dog’s name underneath to the camera. “This helmet doesn’t have some huge symbolism or anything, it’s mostly a testament to my family and how much they mean to me. It’s really a way for me to stay close to them while I’m on track, which is something I started last year after Mexico when I put a picture of them in my helmet.” She let the helmet go lower in frame as she finished the video off. “Anyways, thank you guys for your support and I can’t wait to see you all this season! Liyah out.”

She gave a two finger salute and Maggie ended the recording.

“Nicely done, Liyah,” she said, turning the camera off to put it away. “Alright, I want to head back to the hotel so that I can edit this and get it up right away on your channels and send it to Mike for the AlphaTauri channels. Once you’re packed up, we’ll head out, okay?”

Aaliyah nodded and got up to pack her stuff up. It was a quick process since most of it was still in her bag. Putting her helmet away and zipping up her bag, Aaliyah was ready and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Noah and Maggie both stood up and the three walked out together, saying goodbye to those that were in the common area of the hospitality. They walked out to the carpark, completely ignoring any reporters that were being obnoxious and yelling questions at Aaliyah. She did, however, stop for photos with some fans and signed some things when asked. They finally made it out to the carpark and Maggie and Aaliyah said goodbye to Noah, knowing they probably wouldn’t see him again before the next morning.

“You cool if I drive?” Aaliyah asked Maggie, knowing that sometimes Maggie couldn’t handle someone else driving her.

“I appreciate the concern,” Maggie said. “But I never mind you driving me. Noah on the other hand…”

Maggie trailed off and the two girls laughed as they put their bags in the boot of the car and got in. It was a relatively short drive back to the hotel and the music that Maggie played made it seem that much shorter. Once they got to the hotel and parked, they grabbed their bags out of the car and walked in together. Their rooms were on the same floor so they accompanied each other in the elevator and separated to go down the hallways that held their respective rooms.

“Thank god,” Aaliyah said quietly as she unlocked her hotel room and walked inside.

She immediately dumped her bag on the chair in the living room and went straight back to the bedroom so that she could get ready for either a bath or shower, she hadn’t decided which one she wanted yet. She had taken off her shoes and belt and was about to take off her shirt when there was a knock at her door. Quietly groaning, Aaliyah walked to her front door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Carlos standing at her door.

The two were pretty good friends, having been teammates during Aaliyah’s rookie season with Toro Rosso, and often checked up with each other at least once every race weekend. There were some exceptions of course, but generally they would make a point to see each other outside of the paddock every race weekend.

Aaliyah sighed a bit and opened the door to her friend.

“Do you do this often, Sainz?” she asked teasingly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“Knock on women’s hotel doors immediately after they get back,” Aaliyah chuckled.

Carlos’ eyes widened a bit, worried he was intruding now, and he started to turn to leave while talking.

“Sorry,” he started. “I didn’t realize you had only just got back from the circuit. I can leave you for the night?”

Aaliyah laughed and grabbed his arm, stopping him from actually leaving.

“I’m kidding, Carlos,” she said in Spanish. “You are more than welcome to keep me company for a while tonight.”

Carlos smiled as Aaliyah gestured for him to go into her hotel room. He walked in and gawked at the size.

“Your room is this big?” he asked incredulously. “Mine looks like a closet compared.”

“It’s the Red Bull money,” Aaliyah laughed as the door closed behind her. “That and the brand new sponsor.”

Carlos let out a hum of agreement as Aaliyah went to her bedroom and grabbed clothes to change into, announcing to her friend that she would be out shortly. She closed the door of the bedroom and quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and tossed one of Jake’s hoodies over her shirt, the piece of clothing dwarfing her given the height difference between her and her boyfriend. Aaliyah pulled her hair out of the braids and into a ponytail before walking back out to Carlos.

“Is that Jake’s?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah,” Aaliyah said in Spanish. “He gave it to me before I left for Australia.”

“Didn’t he say at dinner last month that he would join you this weekend?” he asked, confused as to why she was alone for the race weekend.

“He did,” she responded, clearly upset by the fact that he wasn’t there as she plopped onto the couch and set her feet in his lap at the other end. “But he said that they had a video shoot that they couldn’t change the date for and apparently it’s a huge one.”

“But still,” Carlos started, his face screwing up in distaste for Jake’s actions. “That’s not right to cancel on you like that, especially since it would be your first race after announcing your relationship.” Aaliyah nodded with a tired smile but Carlos wasn’t done with his rant yet. “Not to mention all of the times that you didn’t go to parties and events because you were going to one of his video shoots. He needs to do the same for you.”

“You’re preaching to the choir right now, Carlos,” Aaliyah said with a dry laugh. “But there’s nothing I can do about it right now and I want to have that conversation when neither of us have some big event happening.”

Carlos hummed in agreement with Aaliyah’s plan and the two fell into a comfortable silence. They sat like that, Aaliyah’s feet still in Carlos’ lap and his arm resting on her calves, for a few minutes before Aaliyah started to reach for the remote to turn the tv on. As she grabbed it, Carlos began to speak again.

“If I’m being honest,” he started, making Aaliyah pause her action. “This wasn’t just a social call.” She looked at him, confused, as she set the remote back down. “I heard what happened today at your press conference. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Aaliyah shook her head as she let it rest against the back of the couch.

“Is everyone talking about that or something?” she asked, switching back to English and clearly annoyed by the interaction being the gossip of the day. “Who did you even hear about it from?”

“Well,” Carlos started, hesitating to say how he heard of it. With a pointed look from Aaliyah his resolve crumbled and he spoke. “I heard it from Lando who said he heard it from George who said he heard it from Alex.”

“Of course it was the rookies,” Aaliyah said.

There was more silence before Carlos broke the silence. He knew that he shouldn’t have brought it up but he also knew that he needed to talk to Aaliyah about it.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Liyah,” he said. “I know how that kind of stuff affects you. We were teammates after all.”

“I know, Carlos,” Aaliyah said, smiling softly at him. “I do appreciate it, despite what it sounds like.” There was a pause as Aaliyah thought about her response. “I’m doing as well as I can,” she settled on. “It sucks for sure, but I’m alright. I held it together and got through the rest of the conference, which is what matters.”

“What matters is you and your mental health,” Carlos interjected, upset that she was so nonchalant about it. “You say you’re fine, but you don’t even know how bad it’s affecting you. You accept it as an inevitable event that you’ll be disrespected and that shouldn’t be the case.”

Carlos was getting so heated about this that he switched back to Spanish to get his point across. At his comment, Aaliyah stood up and looked down at Carlos.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t stop it if I could?!” she exclaimed. “I would love it if I didn’t have to deal with this every single day of my fucking life. Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of power because nobody fucking respects me! Of course I shouldn’t accept it as inevitable, but until others also stand up for me it will be! It will always be something I have to deal with just because of my gender and choice of profession. I know that, I accept that. You need to get over your self righteous self and accept it too if you’re not going to try to help make a change.” Aaliyah was out of breath at the end of the rant but she wasn’t done yet. “I understand that you don’t get it, but if you really want things to change, you have to actually be a part of it instead of just telling me how things should be.”

Carlos was left in a stunned silence. He hadn’t expected Aaliyah to react in that way when he brought it up and he wholly regretted asking her about it in that moment. He was about to say something when Aaliyah cut him off.

“I think you need to leave, Carlos,” she said, not in a cold way, just a frustrated one. “It’s been a long day for both of us. We should get some rest before practice tomorrow.”

Carlos got up and left in a flurry of hushed “I’m sorry”. Aaliyah sighed as the door clicked behind him and plopped back down on the couch. It didn’t help that she had already had to deal with Max about the press conference that day as well as the slight twinge of betrayal from finding out Alex was one of the ones that spread the gossip. It wasn’t like she expected for nobody to learn about it, it was televised after all. She had just hoped that it wouldn’t be the source of paddock gossip, she’d already been the center of that too many times.

Aaliyah got up, realizing she still hadn’t showered, and walked to the bathroom to clean off from the day. The Australian sun and heat didn’t do her many favors, leaving her a sweating mess after the day at the track. She showered off, finally being able to relax from the stressful day she had. Setting an alarm, Aaliyah got into bed, hoping to get some rest before getting into the car the following morning.

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

A/N: If you made it all the way down here, thank you for reading! I appreciate you! Let me know what you thought of this chapter and let me know if you would like to be put on the taglist! This is a story I have been thinking about and writing for a hot minute now so it seems kinda weird to be sharing this story with everyone else now XD Anywho, I hope you enjoyed <3 See you all later!

Cazza out (^▽^)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

for you wip Wednesday posts, do you just post as you write? like are the parts all continuous or is there parts between that you don’t post? (sorry if this is dumb, I’m just curious how you do yours:))

okay so (get ready for a long winded explanation of how my writing works sorry in advance)

for wipw, i have sort of a basic outline for plot points and stuff. i know roughly how each of the stories go and how they end. that being said, i have two docs (or more) per au. one with the outline and the other is the draft i'm posting for you guys. like here's the actual docs in my bookmarks (ignore my joke titles okay)

(ID: a screenshot of my Firefox, with a folder of bookmarks showing.)

cutting here because sweet lord this got long

as you can see i've got all my wipw docs in a bookmark folder so i can find them easily. DIH, BB, OG, 🦊, and 🦊WIPW are all writing folders. DIH is a long fic for another fandom. BB stands for 'big bang' and is for all my 'cosmic lost and found' stuff. OG is my ocs stuff :). Fox is anything aftg-related that isn't for wipw. and finally wipw is... wipw.

ALSO 'strips and tags' is the doc where i keep my little 'headings' for wipw posts as well as the tags so i don't have to type that shit everytime! (ex: 'WIP Wednesday (10/25) | Guardian Angel Neil (Part --)'

anyway! i write on them and cut them into chunks for wipw. the size of the 'chunk' each ask gets depends on how well the story flows and if it's a good stopping point. so sometimes it's just a couple paragraphs and sometimes it's almost a full fucking page because i couldn't decide where to chop it?

also usually i like to work a bit ahead so i'm not starting with nothing the next week. so when i don't and i get a lot for a certain au it stresses me out bc i don't know where we're going and i have to come up with it on the fly so i can answer asks??

this is also why i write in order and i could never write bits and pieces here and there all over the timeline like Ash does. it would Stress Me Out sooo bad lol

to answer the actual question: yeah.

for the most part, it's mostly how the final draft will be. but in the final i'll probably flesh out certain bits to make it make sense. like we just Jump into the scene a lot in wipw posts and it makes sense for wipw posts. but it wouldn't in an actual longfic on ao3? you know?

also in angel neil, some of the events are out of order. i never expected people to care about it so much so originally it was gonna be a lotttt shorter so andrew talks to betsy about it right away. i think in the Finished Fic (whenever that will be) he won't mention neil to betsy for a while?? but idk for sure we still have a long ass way to go.

thanks for asking this i'm sorry if you didn't want to read my life story but i don't have anyone to talk about writing with really and also i'm insane and can't just say yes/no i have to EXPLAIN

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ march 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 13 235

projects worked on: technically i only wrote for Andromeda Rogue but i did rotate my other side wips rather violently in my head. like this is not a gentle rotisserie chicken rotating, this is a full-on centrifuge machine

proudest accomplishment: this is the month i've written the most all year ????? also i reached over 50K on AR draft 2!!!

books read: Hell Bent by Leigh Bardugo; Artificial Condition (Murderbot Diaries #2) by Martha Wells; and i've also just started A Rival Most Vial by writeblr's very own @ashen-crest!

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

at what degree of sparse activity do i have to concede defeat call it a hiatus. i'm doing fine, i've just been really busy with work and haven't had time to devote to writeblr that much 😔

remember when i said i was gonna intro my Third, Secret WIP this month? yeah, that didn't happen. i'm trying to crack down on AR bc i have this goal of finishing this draft by my birthday in mid-May (although i don't think that's gonna happen at this rate...) so i don't think i'll be talking too much about my other wips here until then. but i'm definitely still playing with them every once in a while lol

uhh not much else to say as far as general writing comments go. have some reading comments: Hell Bent was good but felt a bit messier than the first book imo, 4 stars. Artificial condition absolutely fucked, 5 stars. and i'm not very far in A Rival Most Vial but i love love love it so far.

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2)

so yes this draft is coming along nicely.

right now i'm in the weird bit between the drama of the midpoint and the drama of the climax where things sort of slow down a bit... i'm trying to figure out if i need to add stuff to keep it from dragging but i'm stumped as to what.

i can't tell at what point i need to fix things now or leave things for Future Me. like i can't avoid my problems forever lmao i do have to become Future Me at some point...

there's also a few bits where i don't know if it's actually bad and needs to be fixed or if i'm just overthinking things lol. i've already bothered my rubber duckie (you know who you are <3) too many times for things that i thought were problems that in the end only needed the simplest of solutions... so maybe i need to just leave it be and see what my beta readers think?

speaking of betas... i'm a little *insert gif of me vibrating at the speed of sound* at the thought of people actually Reading My Writing... it feels like that might be happening soon... but i'm probably getting a bit ahead of myself 😅

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

i can never remember what i've posted for AR yet and what i haven't but i did change this scene a bit from the first draft. so without further ado, have some Azami being badass and standing up to a space pirate who had kidnapped her. warnings for weapons i guess, lmk if there's anything else i should warn for

With a smirk, Song let go of Azami’s wrist, and that was there he made the grave mistake of turning his back to her.

Petra caught Azami’s eyes flick down to his belt a split second before she pounced. Hands still tied, she gripped the handle of his plasma wand, yanked it out of its holster, and jabbed it at the back of Song’s head.

“Answer the question, asshole!” she shrieked.

Song stopped walking, but didn’t flinch. His smirk merely widened as he slowly turned around to face her. “Do you even know how to use that, sweetheart?”

Azami pointed the wand between his legs and squeezed a button. A flash of light filled the room as a blue laser shot out of the rusty handle. It flew just shy of Song’s crotch, singeing the fabric of his pants, before hitting the floor with a loud crack and a flurry of sparks. Petra yelped and jumped back. Song sucked in a sharp breath, finally dropping his cool demeanour.

“That was a warning. I’ll blast your balls clean off next time,” Azami promised, aiming the wand a bit higher.

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepenss @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda rogue taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa @outpost51

[ashtraythief]

That post you just reblogged made me sob, wtf was that. Anyway I can’t stand Mary in the later seasons. She is super uncaring and callous towards the boys, which is just so hard to imagine because that is not how I pictured her at all. Ooof, I always thought she’d love the shit out of them. I mean, who wouldn’t? Your kids gave up everything up to avenge you, literal years of their lives. That just breaks my heart. Honestly, I just pretend Mary coming back never happened. Jody was a better parent figure? What is up with that?

Omg yeah, so good. Hurts in the best way.

I think my thoughts on this matter deviate from yours here, and I'll put my ramblings under a cut. 

I wasn't a fan of them bringing Mary back. I don't understand what the point was except that J2 wanted more time off and the writers/Show runners were too uncreative to go beyond which dead character can we bring back??? 

That being said, I really like the idea expressed in ameliacareful's post. I don't remember how callous I found Mary bc I've only seen S12 onward once or twice because they really lost me in S12 and I only finished to watch it all. I do kind of get it though. I mean Mary had a toddler and a baby, a husband and bam she's dead, bam she's back and her little children are grown men, living a life she never wanted for them and her husband is dead. Not to mention the time jump. I mean that alone is enough to fuck anyone up I'd think. As for loving Sam and Dean, they're not her Sam and Dean. They're grown men. She needs to get to know them first. Knowing someone wanted to avenge you is not a sufficient basis for love I think, because you love someone because of all their bits not just one thing. And Mary never wanted them to go on the revenge hunting train to begin with so she was probably more horrified than anything. I would have been. My beloved tiny babies growing up into giant hardened hunters? Ouch. Also when Mary was a parent before she died, she tucked her kids into bed, made them sandwiches, changed Sam's diapers and put bandaids on Dean's scratches and read them stories. She can't do any of that with Sam and Dean. She thought she'd spend her next 20 years watching her boys grow up, making them food, helping them/herding them with their homework, driving him to little league games, comforting them when they cry, etc. I mean a parent's relationship with a young child is so different from an adult child, I don't blame Mary for not knowing how to behave with them. Also, Mary is more than just a mom. She's a whole person and reducing her to just their mom makes her a really one dimensional character. The problem was that the expectation of course was there for her to be a mom, from the boys too and the show didn't do the best job to show Mary's struggle. They tried. But then there was the whole men of letters thing. And I kind of get that maybe Mary is so confused and displaced that she goes back to something that is familiar and unconnected like hunting but again, the writing was so weak. The subject of a resurrected woman confronting her grown children is so complex and they just… didn't do it justice. And don't even get me started on her and Ketch and the brainwashing. And then they killed her again for drama. that whole story just didn't work form me at all. 

As for Jody, I didn't really see her as a parent or mother figure. She's a mother hen type, sure, but I didn't see a parental relationship there. I do like her and her relationship with the boys, I just didn't see her that way. Sometimes, you just have a friend who does that caretaking, planning, worrying, mother henning thing, but it's not necessarily parental. At least that's my impression of that relationship. 

[prouvaireafterdark]

do you have any tips for new fanfic writers. the iwtv bug has gripped me and iim planning to dip my toes in but ive no idea no how to start. thanks and love your work xxx

Ahh, thank you! :)

And, well, I don't really think there's like perfect or universal advice on how to write because everyone likes different things and has a different process that works for them, but I'll do my best to list some things that help/have helped me!

Know your source material. Whether you're writing a canon compliant fic or something wildly AU, rewatching the show can help you get the character voices down and might make you feel less nervous about figuring out how you want your dialogue to sound or how the characters would behave in the situation you're putting them in.

Make yourself some tea. Idk what it is about a warm, caffeinated drink, but when I'm sitting at my desk with one it really helps me stay focused.

Start small if you're worried about finishing something big. There's no rule that says in order to be a fic writer you have to write 100k word masterpieces. In fact, my attention span is so fucked I usually don't write anything longer than 5k word one shots and I'm perfectly content with that. If all you want to do is try to get your feet wet with a 500 word ficlet to see how it goes, do it! Short fics are fun to read and much less pressure to finish.

Make an outline. No need to go crazy with it, but I usually sketch out the rough plan I've got with a few bullet points just to organize my thoughts and make sure I don't forget something.

Don't be afraid to write scenes out of order. There's also no rule that you have to begin at the beginning. I usually end up jumping around and making the parts I've written meet in the middle. If you vaguely know how you want your fic to start, but have a really concrete idea of how you want a specific part to go, just start there and work your way backward/forward.

If you get stuck, write the gist of what happens next in brackets and then move on to the next part. This goes with #5. I cannot even tell you how often I end up doing this and it helps maintain my writing flow so much bc instead of sitting there like "fuck, how do I wanna say this?" I can just be like "well, that's future Lynne's problem" and keep going with what I do have the words to write lol. You can also like just write a skeleton of dialogue and then go back and fill in the descriptions/their internal thoughts and reactions later if you don't know how you want to go about it yet, I do that a lot too.

Write what you want to read. Everyone likes different things and it's not really helpful to get caught up in trying to find an idea you think other people will like. Like I bet there are people who opened my fics, went "nope," and then backed out, but the thing is, I didn't write those fics for them, I wrote them for myself and whoever else ends up enjoying them. It also sucks trying to write something that doesn't inspire you, so if an idea isn't working for you, just... move on to something that does. You can always come back to it later (she says, avoiding eye contact with the WIPs in her folder).

Write. Even if you don't end up posting it, just giving it a go and seeing what happens is the only real way to start. You can always worry about editing later (either by yourself or with the help of a beta reader) or even scrap the whole thing and start over if you're not happy with it. I literally have docs that are basically just graveyards of whole paragraphs I deleted from WIPs but wanted to save just in case. The main thing to remember is that you're never gonna finish your story if you don't actually sit down and write it, so try to take the pressure off of yourself to make it perfect and just see what you come up with.

[welcometogrouchland]

for the character ask, Willow and Amity!!!

Willow!

favorite thing about them: I love a lot of things about her! But for now I'll be a bit general and say her arc of continuing to get back up and prove people wrong. I wanna call it perseverance or strength, but it's more like stubbornness lmao. In the early episodes she's prone to defeatism and that's such a far cry from who she is now. She gained hope and belief in herself and leant into the righteous anger she felt watching people she loves be treated like dirt! AUGH I love her

least favorite thing about them: ooh not sure. Maybe that early episode defeatism? Both in an encouraging way where I want her to get back up but also in the sense of "GIRL THIS ISN'T YOUR FAULT NOR THE END OF THE WORLD. TALK TO SOMEONE ABT THINGS!!!" You can see it a bit in for the future too where she interprets hunters ambiguous response ("I don't know") as negative. It's the warped self perception for me /j

favorite line: GRRR THAT'S HARD!! I'm not in encyclopedia mode rn but rn I'm thinking of some lines from Understanding Willow ("you said I was hurting Willow? I was just finishing what you started!" And "it's...a start"). uhh there's also "not if I never look down!" and "it'll be 52 weeks before Caleb's next day off"

brOTP: JUST ONE??? SHE HAS SO MANY GOOD FRIENDSHIPS MAN!!! But either her and Luz or her and Gus

OTP: sigh. Huntlow (I am predictable)

nOTP: her and Boscha. I wasn't in the fandom much during season 1 but I really never got it even back then. That is not a girl who's mean bc she likes you that is a highschool war criminal

random headcanon: OUGH I'VE HAD SO MANY OVER TIME AND NOW I'M BLANKING! Uhh would like magical girl anime (cardcaptor sakura and sailor moon specifically I think). Likes hyperpop and riot grrrl bc it releases her repressed rage and scratches her brain

Unpopular opinion: OKAY I get it. I also want willow to go apeshit, to have her catharsis and maim and kill. But some people characterize Willow as a lot more bitter than she is to compensate for this and I personally don't care for it, lol. It's Awful or anything it's just Not My Girl. She would not fucking say that

song i associate with them: CRIES. SO MANY!! Mona Lisa my mxmtoon

favorite picture of them:

^ this Dana pic!! There's more but I don't wanna make this any longer

Amity!

favorite thing about them: probably how far she's come from being a lonely, image obsessed girl who lashed out at others to a pretty silly but ultimately very emotionally mature person. She takes care of people more often now, while still having learned her lesson about respect and boundaries from labyrinth runners. Also her design/aesthetic

least favorite thing about them: bit wishy washy but a lot of the early season 1 scenes of her bullying Willow, Luz and Co are like. Hard for me to watch sometimes lol. Same with her and Willow in labyrinth runners. Mean girls just hit too close to home sometimes lol.

favorite line: ECLIPSE LAKE SPEECH HANDS DOWN!!! "There are people out there who won't make you feel worthless" SO PROUD OF HER. CRYING RN

brOTP: probably her and Willow since they have the most developed platonic relationship! But also her moments with Matt in for the future lmao (also Gus and Raine. In my head)

OTP: sigh. Lumity (I am predictable. Again)

nOTP: ooh I'm not sure I really have one! At least one that's based in personal squicks/opinions and not stuff like. Shipping her with men. If that's the case though, Amity/Hunter. Gag

random headcanon: she used to play piano as a kid! Was decent at it too even if she only got to play classical. But when she committed to abominations her mom cut her off of her lessons and pushed her away from it since there was no "practical use" for it anymore, not like Amity was going into the bard track. She gets back into it post-canon though :] would also like to jump off that starting point and play bass

unpopular opinion: hhh okay. While I think they could've made things more explicit/dwelled upon/whatever in order to communicate more clearly to the audience, I'm overall fine with the direction they took in Amity's "redemption arc". Bc like. She's just a highschool bully who's already being punished by her family when the audience can't see her. The solution to this would not be to punish her more. Maybe she should've gotten to talk things out more, somebody once pointed out that, in the main big redemption arcs in TOH, nobody really says sorry (ON SCREEN. Apologies are very much implied), just makes a gesture and does better, which I understand but also I like apologies they give closure. But overall I prefer them just giving her the chance to follow through on her promises.

song i associate with them: Babyface by fresh maybe?

favorite picture of them: I DONT HAVE IT RN BUT THE FACE SHE MAKES WHEN BOSCHA GETS DOWN ON ONE KNEE IN FOR THE FUTURE AND SHE GOES "heh????" IT'S SO FUNNY

[charmmycolour]

Hallo chrammy Colours (sorry if I got your name wrong) i have a question,

I recently got into your fanficana normal life. And because some of the chapters were postet for from another this made me wonder:

How do you keep track of your story? Do you right every chapter out in concept before you start writing? And did it ever happen to you, that you got an idea while writing a chapter, which you really liked and wanted to implement into the story? Would you change future, already planned chapters for it (under the condition it's not a massive plot change).

I was wondering bc your 12th chapter was my favorite one despite being posted later then the others. There's no shift in writing style either so I'm just curious. How do you manage that?

I'm looking forward to an answer.

greetings from Québec's Sweethearts.

I hope you have a great day.

My my this is such an interesting question. Thank you!

About my writing process, I have my own steps system (note this doesn't apply to fics I co-wrote with other authors, where I use a different one, only those I wrote entirely myself). For me writing a fic usually goes like this:

Idea: I have an idea for a concept I find interesting or a scene that would be cool to do. Sometimes these ideas don't tie to anything, they're just small fun scenarios I make up for fun, but if I like them a lot, I will develop them into the next step.

Outline: Now I have a core concept or situation I want to write, so it's time to decide how the rest plays out. I think of a beginning, an ending, and a general line of events that happen in the middle. It's a written draft and not set in stone, but has the general feeling (romance, comedy, angst, etc.)

First Draft: I will start writing whatever scenes I'm more excited to do. I usually work on the first chapter too so it's easier to set the tone later. The big events should be set in the draft, mostly, but can still change if needed; all the small things can wait. If I don't know how to write a part I jump to another.

Second Draft: Now we have a bunch of little stories! It's time to tie them together with the boring parts. It's not as exciting to go over exposition, or have the characters move around, but it's necessary. It's also the step where I make sure everthing is coherent and it's not contradicting other parts of the story.

Usually at this point is when I will clean the first chapter and start posting. I usually haven't finished the fic when the first chapter is up, but roughly half of it if not more will be written or planned. Note the first chapter will first go through step 6 and 7 first.

Final Draft: I rewrite everything correctly, polish the details, cut the filler and in general focus on making the flow dynamic and interesting. At this point it's possible I had a better idea for a future scene and I change it, but once something is published that detail is FINAL and will stay until the end.

Beta: I ask someone (usually my boyfriend) to revise and correct the chapter, fix the grammar and tell me if something is confusing or they have noticed a mistake in the timeline. This is important because I'm NOT English so I make a lot of mistakes lol

When I posted chapter 1 of ANL, up to chapter 9 I think? Were already in first draft at the very least. Some scenes from the ending had been the first I wrote, but as I developed the story and had new ideas, they have been heavily altered from the first idea.

Currently ANL is written to second draft completely, and the only reason I'm not faster uploading is because I'm lazy making the proper rewrites and drawing the illustrations that come with it (sorry!). The ending of the story went through several changes but I think I'm happy with the current one - nonetheless I never discard the idea of implementing changes if needed.

To keep the tone and writing consistent, I read the chapters together with the prior one (from the same character) together to make sure the narration flows the same way. Even if I learned a way to do it better, I try not to make it too different - I think keeping the flow is more important.

Often I will go back and correct things on prior chapters, but only grammar or oddly-written sentences, never events.

I hope this answers all your questions! Please don't hesitate to send more if you have them, and a big big thank you for reading my story! It makes me so very happy.

Have a wonderful day!

[raybyanothername]

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of  how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the  title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or  tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Ok as your greatest enabler, I have two requests! One - Which of these WIPs are bc of me? Two - If you repeated this with only things I've enabled how many would be gone?

Also - I am intrigued by HoG! Whats that one about?

Much to my shock (and I double checked because it was that shocking) none of them are your enabling projects. XD Just slid by, because the next like four after them are all your fault. ^^'

HoG = House of Gordon, which is my primary original writing project right now. I'm at just under 38k right now and nowhere near the end. You may recall me complaining about how I need to get through the political drama part so I can introduce my dragons? That was this one. And yeah... still in the thick of the political drama part.

It essentially revolves around the prodigal son of a magical aristocratic family coming home after his father and grandfather were murdered. Lots of magic, lots of drama, just about everyone is queer. Eventually I will get to the smutty part, but that is after dragons. So... I do be suffering here in a plot point of my own making. XD

Most of what I've written is up on my patreon and will eventually get posted on Ao3 probably, but, here's the first bit:

House of Gordon

There were strobing lights and a thumping bass when Lethe entered the club, but Salim’s eyes still locked on him the moment he stepped inside. Lethe swallowed around the lump forming in his throat as he met the gaze. He walked forward, slipping across the dance floor till he was standing beside the stage. Salim’s eyes tracked him the whole way, his sticks never missing a beat on the drums.

In the few years since Lethe had seen Salim, the man had managed to grow both taller and wider, filling out his once scrawny frame. His arms were muscular, lithe as they moved rapidly. The tshirt stretched across his chest was tight and Lethe didn’t need to use his imagination as he found a spot against the wall to wait.

Long fingers spun his drumsticks in the air as the set finished. Lethe was not at all prepared to watch the flourish. Or to see Salim’s lips twist into a smirk the second he was off the stage. He made a beeline straight for him and Lethe straightened unconsciously.

Up front, Salim was just as beautiful, maybe even more so. Sweat glistened over tan skin. Bleached hair stuck to his forehead. Full lips pulled wide as he spoke, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Le?” Salim’s head ducked, long lashes fluttering as he made a show of looking Lethe up and down, slowly, “And it is still very much a pleasure…”

“I’m here to take you home,” Lethe forced the words out, throat bobbing. Salim’s eyes jumped back to his face.

“My grandfather made it very clear –”

“He’s dead,” Lethe pursed his lips. Salim straightened. His shoulders tensed.

Lethe was not surprised to see his eyes narrow or hear the force in his voice, “Why are you here?” He felt the tickle in the back of his throat, the sudden tightness in his lung. Lethe knew a command when he received it, when he felt it.

Wrinkling his nose, Lethe’s answer tumbled out before he could think the words, “To bring the new lord back to Gordon.”

The color in Salim’s face drained away. A greenish tinge replaced the yellow under tones in his skin. The colorful lights dancing above them didn’t help. If anything, they made the shock blooming across his face more obvious.

“Sal?” his band mates noticed as well and they caught Salim as he stumbled backwards. Lethe’s nails dug into his palm as he reminded himself not to reach for Salim. His nostrils flared as he watched the lead singer run his hands over Salim’s back. They all had questions.

“What’s happening?” “Are you okay?”

Salim didn’t answer them. He blinked slowly, head shaking as he tried to form words. That had always been Lethe’s job, the talking bits. So he slips into Salim’s mind as he had so often before. All of his secrets opened up before him, letting him in as if no time had passed.

“There’s been a…” Lethe paused, eyes meeting Salim’s as he processed how very little his band mates really knew about the man, “…an accident. Sal’s family needs him at home.”

There’s disbelief, and suspicion, written on their faces, but they sent Salim off with only kind words.

“You didn’t even tell them your real name…” Lethe cleared his throat, eyes flicking to Salim as he stopped himself from asking the questions he wanted to. It was all irrelevant now. And Lethe didn’t have a right to ask anymore. Even if Salim didn’t bother to block Lethe from his mind.

They were alone on the sidewalk. The street was empty, the music from the club growing more distant with every step they took. A bar near Lethe’s car was noisy with sports fans, all of them groaning and swearing as the game was interrupted by a news report.

“That’s not an accident…” Salim caught sight of the report out of the corner of his eye. He turned to watch the television in the bar through their window.

Lethe followed his gaze. Even the sports fans were staring open-mouthed at the video playing across the screen. A camera panned around an aerial view of the decimated Rigby Estate. The old stone walls and stately towers nothing but rubble. Smoke was rising from the flames still licking at the edges of the perimeter.

Only the estate was targeted. Not the river. Not the village nearby. Nothing beyond the unmarked perimeter of their family’s land.

“What happened, Lethe?” Salim turned back around, leaning over the top of Lethe’s car. His eyes narrowed, lips pressing firmly together, “Was… was my father there? My grandfather?” Lethe nodded. “Why?”

“They were negotiating with Eldrin and Lord Rigby when the house was attacked. Aurora sent me to find you immediately, before the flames were under control even. I don’t know the details.” Lethe laid out what he knew, face scrunching up as he realized how little it was. “We need to get you out of the city, out of the country. If Gaul finds out you’re here, it’ll be almost impossible to cross the border.”

“My apartment isn’t far. I don’t need much,” Salim nodded and ducked into the car. They weren’t driving a minute before he suddenly shifted in his seat, “What were they negotiating. Eldrin is married to Aurora, why would –.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Lethe was quick to cut him off, “That’s what they were negotiating.” He risked a quick glance at Salim, hands tight on the steering wheel, “Eldrin wanted it annulled. My aunt says he was threatening to renounce his vows – invalidating all the agreements.”

“That’s…” Salim’s eyes fluttered, mouth dropping open.

“Idiotic.” Lethe supplied, head tilting to the side, “Stupid. Cruel. Insensitive.”

Salim nodded along to each adjective. Lips twitching up into a smile. They were all accurate. Lethe had never heard of someone trying to annul a marriage after nearly 20 years. Let alone one with children. Let alone to someone like Aurora.

“You saw the damage firsthand?” Salim guessed, brow quirking up. Lethe nodded. Salim clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “What do you think? He revoke?”

“I can’t think of another way that someone penetrates the wards. Hundreds of years of Rigby witches placed protection spells and defensive wards. Nothing should’ve gotten through.”

Lethe pulled up outside Salim’s apartment. The convenience store on the bottom floor had a television by the register. It too was showing the newly created ruins. Smoke drifting up from the once grand estate. Even the manicured gardens had been turned to ash. But at least the fire was out.

They crossed the border into Torren just before the radio announced that Lord Gaelen Gordon and his only son Garrick were dead.

“There’s been no word from the House of Gordon or the Torren Royal Family about what happened at the Rigby Estate. A statement from the surviving Rigby family – those who were not at the estate at the time – have said that investigations are underway. They’ve requested privacy and respect for the investigative process.”

With a snort, Salim leaned forward to turn the radio off, “They know it wasn’t an accident either. And they don’t want anyone knowing their wards failed.”

“Of course not,” Lethe hummed, “They have two other houses near the northern borders. They’ll be scrambling to repair the wards now, if they even can.”

“So…” Salim shifted, arms stretching behind his head.

Lethe glanced his way, eyes flicking over his languid body as he leaned back in the passenger seat. Salim caught him looking, his lips quirking up.

“Like what you see, Le?” Salim shifted, voice lowering to a husky whisper as he leaned closer. His fingers ghosted over his shoulder. The touch never came. Lethe let out a breath, swallowed.

“We have more important things to worry about right now, Salim.” Lethe chanced another look. Salim was leaning against the window now, eyes focused on the scenery passing by the window.

It was a long drive up from Gaul’s border to Gordon Hall. But, Salim smiled softly at the forest when it rose up alongside them, it wasn’t long enough. The lush green plains gave way to rolling hills and rocky mountains.

Dawn was threatening the horizon as the gates of Gordon Hall swung open to allow them entry. Unlike the Rigby Estate, which had been a sprawling castle with numerous gardens, Gordon Hall was a simpler manor. A stout structure with stone on the bottom floor and wood that took it higher. The wrought-iron fence that wrapped around it encompassed only the top of the hill.

In this small valley, Gordon Hall sat alone on the only high ground for miles. From even it’s bottom floor, one could see all the way to the city a few miles off. It was built to keep the family safe. And still, the family inside its walls could see any threat that might try to sneak up on them out their kitchen window.

[seaofolives]

behind the scenes of fic writing—answered by me!

list of questions right here!

answers down below!

What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

it was rpf for a band AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them?

I do! I've made a vow to hold back tho as of this year and I'll likely do the same for the next year bc they could really burn you out. but mostly I like the challenges! I like discovering what kind of story I can tell that is restricted by the theme or prompts, I like fitting as much prompts as I can in a single work, and I like working through the pressure with my writer friends! there's a point where the grind and the panic is fun and really brings out some surprising stories, but it can only happen too often before it starts to get toxic on you, you know? XDDD

Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

start to finish. i never learned to do otherwise bc that's the only way i know to do build-ups, pacings, and i like peppering inside jokes? and call backs into my fics where possible and that sort of stuff, i don't plan for in my outlines

Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

I do, yes! I didn't used to and I used to feel so powerful that way but writing stories, I'm always scared about losing my ideas mid-way and I writer in peace more if I have them noted down somewhere so it really helps me. normally I only do this for long fics or zine fics (just so I have a fall back for the first check-in XD) and in both instances, let's say...i stray from my outlines by p much 30% to 60%? highly subjective measurement. the longer the fic, the more I stray from it XDDD

What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

I just need some place quiet. since I'm comfortable with writing on my phone, I just need somewhere I can hear my thoughts 🥰

If you’re really concentrating, how many words can you write in a day?

average of 1k words in 2h. I know I've been able to write like 3k+ a day but that's for special circumstances and if I can help it, I don't want to do that XDDD

Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

surprisingly these days? the lack of pressure XD since I've stopped writing for events for now, it's taken me longer to warm up with the writing mood bc I'm not chasing anything anymore. one day, I'd like to get back to the habit of maintaining a healthy schedule based solely on my list of fics I'd like to do but I guess the context switch is taking its time XD

Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

I used tooooo!! but I'm a boring gramma now who can only write in silence 😭 music still serves as a huge inspiration for me tho. I love song fics, I think there's smth very special and genius?? about weaving an entire world within another world. it's like amvs and fanmixes, but another format XD

Do you prefer to write AUs, canon divergence, or canon-compliant fic?

always prefer canon over everything else. I'm one of the few who runs a shelter for the canon that everyone seems to reject on principle but like. while others dismiss canon as smth seemingly unnecessary and inferior? i like to treat canon with a little more respect and honor bc fan-fiction wouldn't be here if the canon never existed, anyway. if I wanted to throw it out the window for whatever reason, you can bet I'd be writing more original stuff by now

next to that, tho I prefer aus! but the aus I like to write still tend to have a healthy touch of canon influence on them. I just really like playing only within the boundaries of the canon sandbox, like it's easy to bake a banger cake if you have an entire grocery store at your disposal, but what if you only have 5 ingredients? that's smth i enjoy.

Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

dialogue! my exposition and plot also tend to happen by dialogue I think XDDD

If you could only write angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your life, which would it be?

angst, easily

Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

i could probably write more relationships of convenience stuff 🤭

Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

amnesia, I guess? mostly bc I think I've seen enough of those stories from our telenovelas when I was younger XD;;; so it's likely going to be the last trope i have in mind

If you were stuck on a desert island with only two characters, which would you pick?

on the context of writing fics? gladio and ignis

A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

tough question!! but it would probably be a fic with traveling and nice locations?? so one of my altissia fics for ffxv, or even "last rites", maybe "5 kilometers" for joche. things like that

What is your most underrated fic?

judging by the number of hits and kudos, the amount of time it's been up and my emotional labor? rn it's looking to be "the house at the end of thommels glade" which was the first ever zine piece I've done!

What fic are you most proud of?

i love all my fics equally lmao hehehehe and i don't really have favorites depending on how it was received by readers? so for obvious reasons, I think pick one of the many 100k+ word fics I've written 😂

What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

off the top of my head, it's this one in recent memory from "hand and shield" xii:

—

Noctis nodded at Talcott when the little boy asked to be excused so he could help Iris and Ignis set down the plates of fresh grill on the table. That left him no distractions, then, to notice Gladio watching him.

“What is it?” There was impatience in his tone when he asked.

Half a king but still completely a dick. Gladio snorted, smirking in bemusement. “Just never thought Iʼd see you play the cool uncle one day,” he lied.

“Hey,” Noctis suddenly snapped in attention, eying Gladio with what was pretty much a threatened look, “Iʼm still too young to be an uncle!”

“Prince Noctis just turned to Uncle Noctis!” Prompto laughed.

“Idiot, weʼre all uncles to Talcott,” Gladio snickered, putting his temple on his fist. “I remember being in the hospital when that kid was born.”

“Thatʼs you. Iʼm more like,” Noctis tossed his shoulders up, trying to act suave, “the cool brother.”

—

and I remember being sad I couldn't explain it very well but prompto's line up there is a pun in the japanese language and since I played the game in Japanese, that's how I came up with it XD to explain, 'prince' and 'uncle' in japanese are homonyms so that's what I was hearing in my head. 'prince noctis' would be noctis-ouji while 'uncle noctis' would be noctis-oji XDDD obviously, i still think about that to this day

Who is the easiest/hardest character for you to write about? Why?

easiest character is gladio bc I've written him a lot XDDD hardest at this point? keith goodman which is also the reason why I'm taking ages with my taibani fic lmao. like he has a defining characteristic yes but idk who he is to me underneath that, you know?? so that's still what I'm finding out! hell jin sakai is a bit easier!

What’s your favorite minor character you’ve written?

oka :D i think i do a nice oka!

What is the one fic that got away?

LORD a lot of them but "love is a universal language" for sure (planned at 60k words, ended up in 140k)

Have you cried while writing a fic?

like a narcissistic idiot yeah. once during noct's death, another while i was projecting my melancholy for my gramma on gladio.

If you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

let's just say i have a planned sequel for "his beauty does not touch me" and i have Several fics in filipino i have to translate into english

How did you come up with title for [x fic]?

with pain. it doesn't matter what fic it is, more than half the time, coming up with the title is the worst experience of birthing that fic.

Which idea came to you first in [x fic]?

normally for most of my fics, especially the longer ones, I come up with scenes in the middle and further down the stories. and then I build bridges to connect them which are the plot lol

Which part of [x fic] was the hardest to write?

for explicit scenes, i actually have a really difficult time with the smut 🤣

If you were ever to do a sequel to [x fic], what do you think might happen in it?

kojiro and kaoru get married in the sequel of "his beauty does not touch me"

In [x fic], what is a happy, post-fic headcanon you have about [pairing]?

i like to think that sometime after "day and night", ravus and noct really become good friends and allies

Send me a word. If it’s in your WIPs, include the sentence and a short summary of the fic.

There is something simply legendary about Professor Gladiolus Amicitia. An alumnus of Lucis Royal University, he graduated with a bachelorʼs degree in modern Lucian literature, sailed to Accordo where he took up a second degree in world history and a masteral in cosmological history, went back to the university for a certificate in royal Lucian history and a third degree in premodern world literature…

I still want to expand on that prof gladnis in college au so this totally counts ok? the word I used is "art" from wordgamewednesday by ficwip 2-3 weeks ago

—

And now, he was teaching a course on Henruit, basic history, imperial romantic literature and subbed for Gilgameshian martial arts on the side. A typical overachieving brainiac as some might call him.

Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

gladio is a future CEO of a company his father owns and ignis is the gay window cleaner who was assigned to clean his windows. aranea is ignis' ex wife who still doesn't know she's ace. she chases after ravus' ass bc he's a wealthy guy and she likes money but the problem is that ravus isn't just ace himself, he's a grouchy one too. and uhhh smth smth tragedy at childhood binds both gladio and ignis to each other