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thisismeracing · 1 year

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King of my heart | MS47 | part. 04

a/n: King of My Heart was supposed to be mainly a "normal" series, not much Social Media content, and though I like doing those chapters they limit my imagination at some point. So I decided to mix it, I'm going to alternate chapters, and we are gonna have the best of both worlds (or so I hope), seeing people react to Y/n and Mick's relationship but also having a privileged seat to watch their interactions and feelings unfold. This chapter is when their first interaction happened, a bit before the first chapter of the series. I hope you guys like it <3 let me know your thoughts and opinions.

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, fluff, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 2.3k

part 03 | series masterlist | part 05

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that's why, for the first time in forever, he throws cautious carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

When Mick saw Y/n for the first time, he was curious and speechless, both things that are involved in the process of blooming love. He had no idea at the time, though in his head, maybe he was just excited to be in a new environment, a place that would embrace him, teach him, and accept him for who he was, not for his father's legacy, or an expectation based on a remote reality.

When she entered the room, he knew people kept talking, working, and breathing, yet he had no idea how because for him, it was different, it was the first time he saw her, and she was suddenly the center of his attention. Big brown eyes stared around everything, nut-brown hair around her head like a halo, full lips, a round nose, and brown skin. Y/n was breathtaking, and he only noticed he was holding his when a friend touched his shoulder. Mick directed his gaze to Lewis for a split second, and he felt lucky he, too, was looking at her. Otherwise, the Mercedes driver would likely see the weird way in which his friend seemed lost. And, of course, his coworker was looking at her too. Who would not want to look at her? They had to be crazy not to. If given the opportunity, Mick would stare at that woman the whole day, and he did not even know her name. So, yes, in his mind, it could only be explained as a curiosity. Although he comprehended very well what kind of curiosity it was and that, he had never really felt that, quite the opposite, he was usually doing his own thing and minding his business, and new people were welcome. And he was friendly, but he was not the type of person to seek someone’s attention or friendship, at least not so fast, not so intently. Y/n was not only a new person, but she was the bearer of new and strange feelings in the pit of Mick’s stomach.

“Oh, she’s so sly, you see. She comes and goes around without people noticing. It scares me sometimes,” Hamilton spoke, smiling in her direction. Mick thought: how could she come and go unnoticed? The second the door opened, he could not take his eyes off her.

“It’s a matter of practice,” she replied with a small grin. The way her lips folded looked almost artistic, like the final brushstroke in a work of art, when everything seems to fit together to create the final result, the bigger picture, “Now, how’s my favorite brother doing?”

Mick did not even notice the way he finally took a breath of fresh air. She was not his friend’s girlfriend, although Mick did not know if her being his sister would make things any easier.

“I’m your only brother Y/n,” Lewis reminded, and she huffed as if he was pointing out something unnecessary.

“You can be my only and favorite brother, both things at the same time. Stop being so pokey,” she joked.

“Mick, this is Y/n, my baby sister,” he turned to Mick, who was able to recompose in seconds. He was a driver after all, he had to be fast and have good reflexes, “Y/n, this is Mick, my friend and work colleague.”

“Nice to meet you, Mick” She waved and made her grin wider, in fact, when their eyes met, her lips opened in a full big smile. It felt like watching a flower blossom, and it also felt like a gesture only for him.

“Likewise, Y/n.”

“I’ve heard you’re new around Mercedes. Welcome to the family.”

“Feels like it indeed,” he grinned, “A family, I mean.”

“It’s good to hear that. God knows this whole thing can be tough. You don’t need to have people making it worse,” she pointed, and that was all it took for Mick to know that Y/n was more than talkative, and honest. He was sure she would tell him the truth about whatever he asked, her genuine opinion, no holding backs.

Someone seemed to call Lewis, and he said something neither Y/n nor Mick could hear properly and then left. Her brown eyes were kept glued right into his ocean ones, almost daring him to deflect. He felt exposed to her, but in a good way, because for some reason, he wanted her to be capable of reading his thought through his eyes, “You’re, uh- it’s your first time in the paddock? I never saw you around before.”

She offers him a small smile, looks at someone in the back, waves, and then turns her attention to his face again, “Nah, I’m here all the time, just away from the cameras and most of the eyes.”

“Can I ask you why?”

She shrugged, “I mean, of course you can. Am I gonna answer, though? That’s a different question,” Y/n joked, and Mick could only smile brighter and roll his eyes.

“I- I’m just curious,” he seems to breathe for a second when their eyes lock again, “about you,” he finishes.

“Yeah, me too,” it’s a whisper like she is telling it to herself, acknowledging that she, too, wants to know every little detail about him. Her eyes divert to an engineer that passes them, her hands go up like the last time, and she gives a gentle wave. “I like to be myself. I mean, I like to be Y/n Y/l/n. I hope you don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my brother and our family, but in some circumstances, your name can be a blessing and a curse” Y/n’s eyes searched for his again. She was waiting for the short nod he gave. A confirmation he understood the situation too, a way of demonstrating that she could keep going because he knew there was more to come. “I didn't want people to pin my success on my brother’s name, to say I had it easier just because he made it. The media loves to do that with women, saying they only made it because of a man or trying to pin hard work and talent as luck.”

He nodded, “I get it. I used to do that when I was a bit younger, to use a different surname so people would not act differently or expect more than one hundred percent of me. It’s tiring. I can sympathize.”

“A Schumacher, huh?” Y/n tatters before adding, “My brother told me a bit of what went on. For the record, it’s their loss. I’m sorry you had to go through such heartless people, but I’m glad they let you go so you can be here now,” so we could meet, so I could feel like drowning in your blue eyes, so that my body would feel lighter, she thought.

“I’m happy to be here too. I don’t think I would change a thing,” Y/n watches as the tip of his tongue goes out to wet his pink, plush lips, the way his eyes dart quickly around her whole face.

“It gives you experience at the end of the day,” she is quick to point out, feeling a tad nervous.

Schumacher nods, and before he can ask one more question, to hear her quirk remarks one more time, someone shows up, calling him to look at something new they did in the car.

“See you around, Mick,” she gives him that same half smile from a work of art before she touches his arm when passing. He could swear he shivered with the feeling of her skin against his.

Y/n goes around, greeting some of the staff she is friends with before finally reaching Toto. He gives her a pointing look, and she rolls her eyes. The older man has always been really supportive of Y/n as well, they would always talk when she came to the paddock, and their conversations would go around about anything and everything. Yn always admired Toto’s leadership skills, and she was open about how she thought his kind of work not only asked you for the technical side but, most importantly, the human side. Toto was able to captivate Lewis, and he did just the same with Y/n. He was also one of the people who made sure her privacy and image were safe around the Mercedes garage. People respected him, so if Toto Wolff says, ‘nobody talks about the fact that Lewis has a sister and she’s here a lot’ that is precisely what happens: nobody would talk, or most of them would not. Y/n was aware her scheme of keeping this under wraps was collective work, and she was happy to be in a place where people liked her brother so much they chose to protect her too.

“You took forever to show up this year. What happened?” he asked, taking off his headphones.

“A lot is going on with work, I’m launching a new collection soon, and you know I like to be in every step of the process, right?”

“Literally,” he joked, pointing to her new shoes, which he knew were most likely from said new collection. Y/n would always use them as a test, making sure they were comfortable and safe for the customers.

She jokingly rolled her eyes before adding, “Yeah, exactly, but doing this is quite difficult sometimes, especially when you want to be attentive to the human side of those who work with you.”

“You’re doing a great job, and I’m proud of how far you’ve come since the first time you appeared here, a small kid determined to do her own name,” he held her chin high, smiling. “Let me know when this new collection drops. I’m sure Susie would love to get one of every shape and color.”

Her smile grew wider, she loved Susie Wolff, and she loved their love. They were very private, but Y/n has been around for long enough to know how big and strong their love is, and she enjoys watching it from the sidelines whenever they interact.

“I will be sure to send some exclusives for her.”

Toto gave her one of his side smiles and nodded before having to leave to attend to some problem, so Y/n made her rounds around, asking questions, interacting, and making sure to annoy her older brother every once in a while. She took some time aside and sat with some of the media crew to answer her work e-mails while they typed away creating content. It was refreshing to be in the Mercedes garage. The chaos worked perfectly well, and she always felt energized.

When work was done and, it was time to leave, Y/n bid her goodbyes and did a small search with her eyes for a blond mop of hair, which did not go unnoticed by her brother.

“He had to leave a bit earlier,” Lewis explained.

“What?” she asked, securing her laptop case and bag in one arm and starting her walk to the garage. Lewis knew it was her way of changing the subject, to shift the attention.

“You’re my sister,”

“It’s been twenty-one years. You would think this is an established fact by now,” Y/n was a fan of using humor as a coping mechanism too.

“Mick is a driver,” he adds.

“Yeah, he’s like your teammate too now, right?”

“He’s also my friend,” Lewis points.

“That’s good. He seems like a good friend to have around,” her curls bounce as she reaches his car and opens the back door to load her things there.

“You’re deflecting, Y/n.”

“And you are not stating your points with clarity, Lewis,” she let go of the door, shutting it in the sequence and opening the passenger one.

“I saw your interaction, saw your interest perhaps, you’re not aware of it, or you’re just trying to brush it off and lie to yourself, but I’m doing my job as the older brother and warning you: by dating someone famous you may have to give up some things, such as your privacy,” now they’re sitting inside the car, he’s facing her, and she’s looking ahead, a woof of air leaves her lips before she finally looks at her brother. “You know how the media is, and if they even sniff a new romance between you, a Hamilton, and Mick, a Schumacher, they won’t go easy. They will want all the details, and I trust the Mercedes people, but we don’t know everyone. There are new people always showing up. They can let it slip about you without intentions, share information without noticing.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but unlike the usual days, she doesn’t have anything ready to say.

“And don’t forget the fact that he is my coworker, Y/n. If anything goes down the wrong path, you will either have to face him daily or lose my races. You will have to face your heartbreak every day. Do you remember Jonathan from high school? How you missed a week of classes when that fucker dumped you?! And then you had to finish the year there anyways, had to sit in the same class as him.”

“And I changed schools by the end of the semester,” she adds with a small nod. She understands his point, and she even agrees to some extent. However, she wanted to add that it was a different context, that Anthony was a douche, he never really liked her, and nobody in that school really did, this being the reason she decided to leave. She was a lot of things but not a coward, though she knew that was not what her brother was saying. She felt like reminding herself.

“I’m just trying to take care of you. I would hate to watch you suffer,” his voice is soft, and so are his eyes and hands when they reach through the center console to lace their fingers.

There’s a small smile of appreciation on her lips, “I love you, and I love how careful you are with me, but I’m not a kid anymore” She tightens her grip on his hand, and they share an attentive and agreeing look for some seconds when she adds, “And Mick is not Jonathan.”

“That’s what scares me.”

***********************

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#king of my heart ms47 #f1 imagine #mick schumacher imagine #hamilton!reader #black!reader #mick schumacher x reader #black!reader x f1 #mick schumacher x black!reader #famous!reader #ms47

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cuubism · 1 year

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Okay but AFTER Dream dramatically storms into Desire's realm yelling "WTF did you do to Hob" I can't imagine Desire just...ignored that. They 100% had to go check out this human and see what is so interesting that Dream is all twisted up in knots over him. Can very much picture Desire swanning into the New Inn in their craziest Lady Gaga outfit already drinking a cosmopolitan and introducing themselves to Hob. Because Desire realises that rather than plotting Dream's downfall they can fuck with Dream INFINITELY more by bothering his immortal crush. It's the sibling instinct.

oh. they DEFINITELY will. and like. eventually dream explains his whole thought process, and the fact that desire has fucked with him in the past (hob: dear god why is your family so fucked up), and dream is basically like: DO NOT. ENGAGE WITH DESIRE. IF THEY TRY TO TALK TO YOU. just call me (he still does not have a phone so unclear how this will work) and i'll kick their ass.

critical point: dream did not in any way tell hob how to IDENTIFY DESIRE.

---

The person who struts -- it's really the only word Hob can think of -- over to the bar at the New Inn makes him uneasy, though he can't say why. Hob is not made uncomfortable easily, he's lived too long and been in too many scrapes to feel intimidated in his own pub, of all places.

But something about them makes his hackles rise. The eyes, maybe. They're too cunning.

But he's not in the habit of throwing people out on looks so he just offers a tight smile and says, "Get you something?"

He's tending bar himself, today. Gives him something to do between terms. And he finds himself strangely grateful to have the bar between him and his strange customer as they slide onto one of the bar stools.

"Cosmo, please," they say, voice like sugar halfway to caramelizing, a bit of pop and smoke in the smooth glide.

This is a bit of an odd drink selection for eleven in the morning, but Hob has, at various points in his life though thankfully no longer, done lines of cocaine before even having breakfast, so he really has no pedestal from which to judge.

"Coming right up."

The bar at the New Inn is well-stocked nowadays. Used to be, they served mainly beer and wine, nothing fancy. Then Hob made the horrible mistake of promising his students an end of term cocktail-making class if they came to all the exam review sessions -- because he does actually know how to make drinks, he's been alive for six centuries, thanks very much -- and now it's become a thing and he's stuck doing it forever.

Then Dream took to his drinks, and alcohol is no substitute for food but getting Dream to eat or drink anything is a bloody miracle, so if that anything is the bougiest mixture of alcohols Hob can come up with, well--

Actually. Actually that might be worse than nothing at all.

Makes Dream happy though, so what is Hob to do? Keep ordering luxardo cherries and elderflower liqueur until he outlives them, that's what.

He finishes shaking the drink under the heavy gaze of his guest and pours, sliding it across the table to them.

Hob feels like he's being sized up by a predator as they take a long, delicate sip. The color of the drink matches the pink of their blazer. Hob is struggling to recall if said blazer was actually pink when they arrived.

"Ah. You mix a good drink, Hob Gadling," they say, propping their head on their hand, looking a him from under their lashes, and, ah, so that's what this is.

Hob leans on the bar. "What sort of... entity are you, then?"

Their whole face brightens in what Hob thinks is delight. "Oh! So you are a perceptive one. Get a lot of entities in here, do you, Robert?"

"'Bout as many as can be expected. That's not an answer."

They pout. "Neither is yours. And can't a being just pop by the local speakeasy for a drink without being interrogated?"

"Seems a little unfair that you know my name, and I don't know yours," Hob points out. "Names have power, and so on, isn't that the thing?"

His guest studies him. "You are both far more normal and far less normal than I'd been expecting. Fascinating."

Um.

Before Hob is forced to respond to that, the door swings open to reveal Dream, shrouded in darkness and nighttime and vibrating with electrical fury. Shadows crawl up the windows. All the lights in the inn flicker out.

Oh boy.

"I," Dream says, each word a thunderclap, shining gaze fixed on Hob's guest at the bar, "Explicitly. Forbade. You. From. Interfering."

"What are you going to do, hit me?" taunts the other entity, leaning back on their stool, drink balanced in one hand.

Hob looks back and forth between them, wondering if he should fetch a weapon. He keeps a cricket bat here somewhere, surely...

"Dream, love," he says, once he's decided it's better to try to deescalate the situation rather than introducing further weaponry, "your usual?"

Dream nods, stalking over to the bar. His gaze flits briefly to Hob, softening, before snapping right back to the other being.

"I see you remain incapable of heeding a warning," he says, all ice.

"It's not really part of my nature," they say. "I see it, I like it... well, you get it."

Oh. Oh no.

Cautiously, Hob slides his drink over to Dream. Without breaking eye contact with... Desire? it must be, and thanks, Dream, for the complete lack of description, Dream picks up his drink and downs the whole thing in one long swallow.

Ooooooh boy.

"Desire," Hob says, and they perk up at his realization of their name, looking over at him, "might be better if you were going now."

Desire lets out a frustrated huff. "Ugh, of course. I certainly don't want to upset 'ole Nightmare here."

"You certainly don't want my fist in your jaw," Hob says, more audible threat in it than he intends -- but he remembers Dream's halting confession, about how often love had turned out to be manipulation, and he thinks he should be congratulated on his restraint, actually.

Desire just laughs, and-- ah, Hob is starting to see that there's no winning with this one. Even and especially when you haven't agreed to the game.

"I suppose I'll be going then, before the fists start flying." They slide out of their seat and glide towards the door, waving. "Nice meeting you, Robert! I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, soon."

I don't doubt it, Hob thinks.

They take their drink with them. Hob's not feeling particularly inclined to chase down that glass.

Dream still hasn't moved. He stares after Desire, empty glass about to crack in his grip.

"Dream?"

"I said that you should call for me," Dream says, the ghost of words.

With what means, exactly? Hob thinks. Damned enigmatic shadow of a man. "You didn't tell me who to look out for."

"Oh." Dream finally snaps out of his daze. "Yes. I apologize."

"Come sit down."

Hob fetches a glass of water and drags Dream over to their usual booth, pushing the water into his hands. "Drink that."

Dream stares down at it. "Why?"

"Because you just chugged a drink you usually sip for hours. Drink."

"I will not get drunk unless I choose to," Dream says.

"Have you tested that?" Hob asks.

Dream's brows furrow. "...No."

"Then let's not do that now. Drink. Come on."

Dream sips at the water. "I am sorry," he says, slowly, "about Desire."

"And I'm sorry I didn't actually punch them," Hob says, making Dream look up at him in surprise. "Well. Sort of. Wouldn't want to make it worse."

A smile tugs at Dream's lips. "You would... defend my honor?"

"Always," Hob vows. "I'd defend you. Don't care if the devil himself has it out for you."

"That may well happen," Dream says.

Hob stares at Dream. Dream stares back.

"Oh," Hob says, or maybe just hopes, "you're making a joke."

"No," says Dream. "Lucifer and I are on poor terms at the moment. She may seek revenge."

Hob keeps staring at him. Dream meets his gaze evenly.

Hob scrubs his hands through his hair. "Lucifer and you..."

Why was it always like this?

When he looks up again, Dream is smirking at him. "You're a menace," Hob tells him. "One day, you're going to give me the full rundown of everyone who has beef with you so I can be prepared."

"That will be a long list," Dream says.

"Of course it is," Hob sighs.

Dream takes his hand as if he can comfort Hob through all of the insane interactions he's sure to have with strange beings in the near future. The worst thing is, it works. Hob squeezes his hand and immediately remembers why he's willing to do anything for him.

"I'd go to Hell for you," he says. "I'd prefer not to, though, if it's all the same."

"That is my preference as well," says Dream.

There's a lot Hob would do for Dream. It's probably unhealthy. But what's the point of living six hundred years if you're going to spend it all being healthy, anyway.

"Why do so many people have problems with you, anyway?" Hob asks.

Hob knows. Hob fucking knows why.

Dream pouts. "Matthew tells me my social skills are 'less than adequate.'"

That's one way to phrase 'you act like an arrogant dick 85% of the time.' Matthew should receive a medal for his tact.

Hob loves that arrogant dick, though, God fucking damn him.

"All the more reason to get me that list, then," Hob says. "Maybe we can prevent you from creating an interdimensional incident."

"Will you accomplish this by threatening to punch them in the face?" Dream asks, completely neutral.

"Okay, you know what? Fair," Hob admits, and Dream chuckles. "Perhaps neither of us is cut out for diplomacy. The point, though, is: of course I'd defend you. I love you."

Dream kisses the back of his hand. As if he's only just now realized what he's done to Hob's pub, the lights all flicker back on.

"Thank Christ, I thought I was going to have to replace all those bulbs."

"Do you think I would do that to you?" Dream says with a tiny smile, Hob's hand still pressed to his lips.

You've done worse than that to me, Hob thinks. Better, too. So much better.

"No, love," he says, "I know you wouldn't."

#hob just feeding dream fancy cocktails with one hand while he fights off lucifer with a bat with the other #'it's rotten work' 'YEAH IT SURE FUCKING IS'#this got so meandering this has no structure at all #in my head dream is the type of person who will only drink like. elevated stuff. like he is not just casually drinking pints at the pub #u feel me. and he never gets drunk. u will only catch him with an elaborate expensive cocktail or a fine red wine #or a glass of truly ancient scotch #dream's drink of choice at the new inn is a vieux carre not that it matters in the slightest #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #desire of the endless #the sandman #my writing #ask #merytsetesh

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makeitmingi · 4 months

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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 8]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

Yunho had a pep in his step as he came back to the restaurant on Friday morning. He was excited to come back to work so he arrived earlier. Yesterday felt weird to not go into the restaurant to work.

"(y/n)?" He poked his head in. You were alone and had your AirPods on, listening to music as you worked on whatever was in front of you. You hadn't heard him come in. Yunho blinked and stepped forward, tapping your shoulder lightly.

"Who-" You jumped back in fear, as if you were afraid of getting attacked. Yunho flinched also, surprised by your fearful reaction.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" Yunho fully bowed in apology.

"It's fine. I didn't hear you come in with my music playing." You frowned slightly, removing your AirPods and tucking them away. Yunho cleared his throat.

"Where are the others?" Yunho asked as he went to put his bag and coat in the locker room.

"I told them to sleep in a little. Sometimes, working in peace and quiet is what I need." You replied, mixing the pie batter in the bowl.

"I understand." Yunho nodded. You couldn't help but involuntarily snort at that, did he really understand what you meant? He seemed like someone who likes to surround himself with noise and other people, someone who doesn't like to be alone or for the environment to be too quiet.

"Hang on, let me make a coffee." Yunho said and went out to make himself a macchiato. At the same time, he made you an iced americano, bringing the cups into the kitchen.

"Thank you. Are you hungry?" You asked as you wiped your hands on your apron towel and took a sip before you went into the walk in.

"I guess?" Yunho blinked in confusion.

"I'll make you a sandwich." You came back out with a prep tray of items. You unwrapped the paper and there was a chunk of what looked like beef in the middle.

"What's that?" He came next to you, leaning to see as you used your knife to shave off slices of the meat.

"It's salt beef. Or corned beef. I made it yesterday for Seonghwa and got it ready this morning to give out." You explained.

"Here." You handed him a slice to try.

"Mmm! It's good." Yunho's eyes widened as he ate it. When he thought corned beef, his brain could only think of that chunk of meat that comes in a can. He didn't think that it was the processed version of this piece of meat in front of him.

"This is rye bread, Russian dressing, swiss cheese and sauerkraut. It's like a fermented, pickled cabbage." You showed him each component as you stacked the sandwich.

"Then we grill it to make a sandwich, a reuben sandwich." You pressed the sandwich onto a hot pan until the cheese melted and the bread toasted.

"It looks so good!" Yunho clapped his hands excitedly. When you took it off the pan, you sliced it down the middle.

"There you go, a reuben sandwich." You slid it to him. Yunho took his phone out to take a picture first.

He picked up the sandwich and took a big bite. The crunch of the bread with all the components, the sauerkraut cutting the creamy dressing and cheese, it was amazing.

"This is amazing." Yunho melted, leaning his elbows on the table as he savoured the taste.

As he enjoyed the sandwich, you went back to preparing the pastries and cakes for the day. You would occasionally glance over at Yunho eating his sandwich. Honestly, you had no idea why you felt so much anticipation making the sandwich for him. Maybe because you've been quite amused by his reactions to food so far.

"I'm glad you like it." You said, turning around to mix the muffin batter. Yunho smiled softly as he looked at the back of your head. It warmed his heart that this was you starting to open up to him.

"This thing... sauerkraut? How do you make it?" Yunho asked.

"It's actually really easy. You shred the cabbage and massage it with salt until the water comes out then you let it pickle with it's own natural bacteria and enzymes." You informed.

"So I'm guessing you made this?" He held up a strand of the pickled cabbage. You nodded your head.

"Well, I'm sad that this is my last bite." He pouted, staring at the small piece of sandwich that was left in his hands.

"You can always learn to make it yourself then make more." You replied.

"Speaking of, is there anything I can help you with? Since you're doing this on your own." Yunho straightened up, going to the sink to wash his hands and the plate the he used.

"The boys are coming in 30 minutes. But you can still help." You shrugged. He nodded, going to the locker room to retrieve a spare apron. After tying the string around his waist, he pulled his sleeves up and washed his hands again.

"Okay, chef! What do I do?" Yunho saluted with a big smile as he jogged over to where you were.

"We're going to make the coffee crumb cake. Measure all this into here while I make the crumb that goes in the middle and on top." You pointed on the recipe sheet and all the ingredients he needed.

"I can do that." He grinned and started measuring each component. You had taken out the ingredients earlier so he didn't need to retrieve them.

"Where is the coffee in the coffee cake?"

"There is actually no coffee in coffee cake. It's just meant to go well with a cup of coffee." You replied, mixing the crumb ingredients together with your fingers.

"That's... confusing..." He laughed. You hummed in agreement. You looked over to see how he was managing.

There was a small frown on his face as he checked the weighing scale for each ingredient, he chewed on his bottom lip, focussed on trying to get the exact weight of everything. You could tell he was frustrated when he was even 0.1g over what was needed. He would carefully add and remove each minute amount.

"Done!" He showed you the bowl. You told him which ingredients to put together, standing with him at the mixer to let him add the ingredients in.

"Once the sour cream, butter and sugar are whipped together and it looks fluffy and airy. Slowly add the eggs." You instructed. Yunho tried his best to follow your instructions. He didn't want to mess up.

"No shell." He said proudly, cracking the eggs into the small bowl and adding them in.

"Should I do the flour little by little?"

"Yes, maybe in batches of 3. Lower the speed of the mixer or it will go everywhere." You advised him. He did exactly as told, watching in amazement as he made the cake batter.

"I've never done this before. Or rather, my mum always said I made a mess so I wasn't alloewd to do much." He sighed.

"You've been keeping your area neat so far." You shrugged, continuing to mix with crumb with your hands to ensure you got the right consistency. You tasted it to make sure that the taste and texture wa right before going to wash your hands.

"That's good." You said. You took the bowl from the mixer and scraped down the sides. Then you grabbed the cake tin and layered the two components.

"Let me help." Yunho held the bowl of batter for you to guide it into the pan. After smoothing it, you put a layer of crumb.

"Ooh, like a filling?" He asked, watching you crumble the crumb evenly over the batter.

"Yes, so we cover this with the remaining batter and more crumb." You said, putting more batter on top of the middle layer of crumb. Then you put a final layer of crumb over the top.

You repeated the step for the other cake tin and put the cakes into the oven to bake.

"Morning, (y/n)." Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho came in.

"Hey." You greeted, putting the used dishes together. The 3 were surprised to see Yunho already there with an apron, standing beside you, ready to take on whatever task you assigned. From the flour stains on his apron, they guessed that you had let him help with with whatever you were doing.

"Look at you being so hardworking." Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you to squish you into a hug. You scrunched your nose lightly, body stiff but you didn't push him away.

"Did you sleep?" Seonghwa asked softly, a hand on your head. He didn't ask if you slept well, he asked if you slept at all.

"I did, Hwa. Don't worry. Your salt beef is in the fridge." You informed. Seonghwa's eyes widened in excitement.

"You didn't..."

"I did." You nodded. Seonghwa left you and immediately headed for the walk in. He came back out with the piece of salt beef that you had used earlier.

"See? You should get a meat slicer so we don't have to manually slice it anymore." Jongho chuckled.

"If you can find anymore space in my kitchen to put an industrial meat slicer, go ahead, Jong." You rolled your eyes. Wooyoung was still glued to your side, his arms around your waist as he leaned his head on your shoulder tiredly.

Yunho watched this exchange quietly. You were really so different when you were around familiar people. Not only were you more relaxed, there was a little bit more playfulness in the way you spoke.

"Okay, get to work." You said, patting Wooyoung on the hip. He went to get his apron.

"What has been done?" He asked.

"Muffins and coffee crumb cake are in the oven. Chicken & leek pie filling is done, pastry has not been rolled out and blind baked. I was getting Yunho started on the financier batter."

"Are you getting more comfortable around the kitchen?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, chewing on a slice of salt beef.

"Thanks for (y/n)!" He replied enthusiastically. You raised your eyebrows at his reply.

"Hwa, stop eating and get to work. You can make your sandwich later." You scolded. Seonghwa laughed and covered the meat back up with the paper wrapping, putting it back into the walk in. He washed his hands and was by your side immediately, assisting you with what you were doing.

"Maybe I should move out of the way." Yunho said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, it's fine. Just finishing weighing all this according to this. Woo, take over the mixing later?" You turned to the male. Wooyoung gave you a thumbs up.

"I'm making the brown butter now." He informed, swirling the pan on the stove. The brown butter gives financiers a nutty flavour.

"It smells nice in here!" San came through the door.

"Boss man is working in the kitchen?" Yeosang tilted his head, seeing Yunho working with Jongho by the mixer. Wooyoung nodded his head with a playful giggle.

"Told you guys I can bake." Yunho scoffed.

"Are you sure you didn't just eat the scraps?" Mingi scoffed, coming back into the kitchen with an iced coffee in hand.

"No, that's not true! I'm not like all of you who just samples and eats everything. I actually helped make the coffee crumb cake. Didn't I, (y/n)?" Yunho frowned with a small pout. You nodded in confirmation, stirring the icing for said cake in your bowl.

"Ice and slice." You slid the bowl of icing to Jongho. Jongho picked it up immediately, drizzling the icing over the cooled cake in a zig-zag pattern. Yunho looked on, proud that he helped make that.

"Financiers going in the oven." Wooyoung announced.

"I'll do the bacon and egg danishes." Seonghwa said. You went over to help him with that.

"We should go get the store front ready for opening. Stock the coffee bar with what we need." Yunho said to his 4 friends. The 5 of them went out, leaving the kitchen.

"Hongjoong, I moved the box of milk cartons into the walk in. They were delivered this morning." You informed.

"Okay, thanks (y/n)." Hongjoong smiled and went to the walk in with Yeosang to help him move the boxes of milk cartons out to the front.

"Can I make all of you a drink?" Mingi offered. You still had the coffee Yunho made you so only Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho gave their drink orders.

The 4 of you worked well, like usual, all falling into your own tasks and jobs without having to give too much detailed instructions. Jongho did the prep and final touches, Wooyoung was working on one pastry while Seonghwa did another. You floated between them, helping them or pulling stuff out of the oven.

"You made sure a pretty crimp, Jongho." You chuckled as you pulled out the chicken and leek pies. Yunho liked the idea of a mix of savoury and sweet baked goods to sell.

"I'm going to slice the banana cake." You said, cutting the loaves of banana cake into slices for serving.

"Ready for the counter." Seonghwa told the boys outside. They came in to help carry the completed sweets out to the front.

"Can I try a slice of the coffee cake?" Yunho asked. Jongho cut him a slice and served it on a plate for him. Yunho took a bite and you swore his eyes sparkled.

"I helped make this?!" He asked in disbelief. You nodded slowly, eyebrows raised in slight amusement.

"Oh my gosh! Guys, eat this! I helped make it!" Yunho ran out to let his friends try it. And to possibly rub in their faces that he was able to make something so delicious in the kitchen without blowing something up, unlike them.

"Did Yunho really make help make that? Cause it's actually edible." Mingi pointed to the plate. Yunho slapped the back of his head with an offended frown.

"He did. He measured out everything and did the cake mixing." You replied, wiping down the counter.

You heard Yunho open up the shop and the chatter of customers come in. The boys outside went to work at once, serving customers.

"Lunch will be reuben sandwiches." You said.

"Another of those amazing sandwiches?" Yunho beamed as he overheard your words while he walked in to retrieve more cocoa powder from the pantry.

"Mhmm." You nodded. Yunho grinned and nodded before leaving the kitchen.

"Another? You mean, you made him a reuben already?" Wooyoung asked. You nodded again.

"This morning when he came in early. I let him try the salt beef and made him a reuben. Although, I think he might like the sauerkraut a little more than the actual meat. He's never had a reuben before and was quite amazed by it." You explained with a small smile on your face, remembering his reaction to the sandwich.

"Wow. Look at you having cute moments with our boss." Jongho teased with his arms crossed. You shot him a flat look, rolling your eyes and continuing what you were doing.

"There was no moment. I made him a sandwich. I have been making all of you sandwiches for so long." You said.

"The first sandwich she made me was kimchi and peanut butter." Seonghwa remembered.

"I was 5!" You hissed.

"And so cute. You looked at me and asked me if it was delicious, I had to tell you it was the best thing I've ever eaten." He laughed, patting your head and pinching your cheek.

"You know what, make your own salt beef next time. I'm not going to be nice to you anymore." You frowned.

"Sure, you know you can't help but be nice to me." Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you, hugging you. You and Seonghwa have been taking care of each other for a long time. While you never verbally expressed yourself, you did it through acts of service.

After all the cakes and pastries were done, you all did the clean up. Wooyoung and Seonghwa did the dishes while you and Jongho made sandwiches for everyone.

"I'll start toasting the sandwiches." You stood at the stove. Jongho helped you put the sandwiches on the pan.

"Whew, it's busy out there!" San huffed as he entered, leaning against the wall tiredly.

"Want a sandwich?" Wooyoung offered. San brightened up, coming over to see what the 4 of you were eating. You gave him one of the sandwiches and he ate it.

"What? This is so good!" San chewed and looked at the sandwich that he had just taken a bit out of.

"It's called a reuben sandwich. There's beef, cheese, pickled cabbage and a dressing. And then it is toasted." Jongho said, munching on the dill pickle that he usually had alongside his reuben. It was homemade, made by Jongho himself. Wooyoung and Seonghwa preferred just crisps.

"The beef is nice. The spices is good and it's really smokey." San nodded as he took another bite.

"It tastes better when you use an actual smoker." You chuckled. There was no space in a Korean apartment for a full size smoker so you relied on a makeshift one, using wood chips in your oven.

"Hey! What are you eating without me?" Mingi came in, tired from the Friday crowd. He came over to see what San was eating.

"Woah, that looks bomb." Mingi commented, looking at the sandwich. Seonghwa slid one over to him.

"That's for you." He informed. Mingi beamed excitedly and went to wash his hands before digging into the sandwich hungrily. San looked at Mingi with a smirk.

"Isn't it one of the best things you've ever had?" San laughed.

"It's amazing! What? How can a sandwich be so good?" Mingi said in disbelief, taking another bite to convince himself. You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho shot each other looks. This was such a genuinely amazed reaction, it was amusing.

"Yunho reacted the same way as all of you." You stated.

"Wait, Yunho's already had one? When?" Mingi and San turned to you in confusion.

"This morning when he came in. I made him one for breakfast." You blinked, taking a bite of your own sandwich.

"And he didn't think to leave any for us? Or tell us about it? See, I told you he was selfish over food." Mingi scoffed at his best friend. San laughed but nodded in agreement.

"Someone is talking about me in here?" Yunho poked his head in. His eyes narrowed in on the sandwich Mingi was eating.

"Is he eating my sandwich?!" Yunho screeched.

"Relax. Yours, Yeosang's and Hongjoong's are here." You pointed to the plates on the back counter. Yunho let out a sigh of relief, no way was he going to share his sandwich, even with his best friend.

"San, if you're done. We need help." Hongjoong popped in briefly. San went to wash his hands and went back out to help manage the crowd and orders. Yunho came in, closing the kitchen door behind him. Mingi looked at him with a raised eyebrow, making Yunho frown in confusion as to why he was being stared at.

"What?"

"You had one sandwich all to yourself this morning for breakfast. Didn't think to leave any of it for us to try?" Mingi asked.

"You're having one now, aren't you? Leave me and my sandwich alone." Yunho scoffed with a pout. They all were like children, fighting over food.

"I share everything with you! You're being selfish." Mingi exclaimed.

"Sorry, Mingi ah. We're best friends but when it comes to delicious food like this, it's every man for himself." Yunho shrugged.

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browneyedjoe · 1 year

Text

so, a cheeky and honestly filthy (for me) joe blurb. very much inspired by @lovejosephquinn recent blurb re their horny christmas eve morning thoughts. but okay, seriously, let’s imagine -:

p.s. also inspired by the 5 mimosas i've had in the last hour and my thought process after seeing this video.

p.p.s. this is officially the first smut i've written and i'm stressed because i'm very particular about the smut i read so any feedback is appreciated.

merry crisis, ya'll

it’s very early morning, the sun not yet risen but the sky a light shade of midnight blue. you’re peacefully asleep, duvet wrapped around your partially naked body and your hair, splayed on your pillow as if you were a mermaid underwater. you feel a shift, physically, a gentle yet repetitive knock that undulates your body back and forth. your sleep, lightly disturbed, but you decide to ignore it, subconsciously acknowledging it was too early to be awake. it happens again; something, or albeit, someone rocking softly side to side. your eyes scrunch - alright, you’re definitely awake now. with your back facing joe, you assume he’s gotten up to get a glass of water or to use the loo. but now, with your mind wide awake, you hear it - the melodic rhythm of quiet moans that escape the full lips of your boyfriend. you couldn’t believe your luck. slowly, you turn around as if you’re rousing from a dream and not perturbed by the fact that joe is ‘discreetly’ rubbing his erection with a lazy hand, under some dreamy impression that you don’t have any idea what he’s doing. “fucking h-“ joe exhales, accompanied with a sound of slick; you picture his hand, the palm of it covered in a mix of spit and precum, jutting up and down his hard cock. you think of the shine of rubies, synonymous with the colour of the head of his dick and the red of his lips, the bottom of which is being bitten, trapping shut any harsh breaths and filthy words so desperately trying to escape. smirking with your eyes close, you wrap an arm around the lower part of his hip, pelvis thrusting, you feel the rise and fall of his gut. the air is trapped there and fucking hell, joe is really trying his hardest now to not make it obvious that he’s seconds away from coming. “thinking of that cunt, fuck-please” and you feel your own slick start to pool between your legs. could you get away with squeezing your thighs together to get some relief? maybe? god, know knows…you’ve been here before, half asleep until joe is walking next to you without a second thought that it’s 3am. he’s shaking now, breathing uneven and stilted. this is when he starts gripping the swollen head of his cock, his other hand quickly grabbing at his balls and then reaching out to touch the softness of your body. “jesus, gonna c-cum”. your hand, which was still precariously laid atop his hip, starts to squeeze the bone there, and he knows - fuck, he knows you’re awake and within an instant, he gets up onto his knees, tossing the duvet off to expose your chest and with a few more jerks, he’s spilling his load all over your breasts. his release is loud and finite, like the pop of a balloon at a birthday party. joe is squeezing your left breast, pinching at the nipple when he finishes milking his cock. you hear him chuckle, “i know your were awake as soon as you turned over”. joe flops his body back down on the bed, neck to you and lowers his hand to your covered cunt, pulling the material to the side to push his index into the wet, “did you enjoy yourself, you little creep?”. you feel his smirk against your lips as he kisses you hastily. he knows you love hearing him with himself; the voyeurist in you completely satisfied with what has transpired. joe’s cum still adorns your skin, letting it settle there whilst he dip a finger into you, then two, then three, and then he kisses you again - so fucking hard - “let’s take care of this, shall we?”.

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joe quinn smut #joseph quinn rpf #joe quinn rpf #lol it's almost 11pm here in australia #christmas is tomorrow but really #this IS my christmas present #my writing

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nhl-stories · 6 months

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Rue – Clayton Keller

Summary: Ines has a bit of a dilemma, marry her ex-boyfriend or get deported

Author’s Note: I don't even go here but an anon suggested Clayton and I ran with it and loved every moment. This is obviously a dramatized version of immigration in America, while I tried to keep aspects as authentic as possible, I also took creative liberties to fit the story.

Also his mom's name is Kelley Keller and that is just so insane to me

Word Count: 9.2k

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Don't wanna make it worse I'm gonna make it work

“What if you married Clayton?”

“You think marrying my ex-boyfriend for a green card is the answer?”

Ines doesn’t mean to raise her voice; Kat is just trying to help. But it’s been a long 24 hours and she can’t really control her emotions anymore.

“I think there should be reformed paths to citizenship. But that’s not going to happen in the immediate future, so I’m spit balling here.”

Ines flops face down on couch cushion and screams.

“I don’t hear you coming up with any better solutions,” Kat adds.

She lifts her head in shock, “You’re being serious?”

“Kat’s serious about what?” Nick comes back with drinks, his solution for comforting Ines.

“Nez should marry Kells for a green card,” Kat keeps saying it like it’s realistic.

Nick ponders the idea for a moment and shrugs, “It’s not the worst idea.”

“I’m just in a hellish nightmare, I’ll wake up and everything will be normal and everyone will be sane,” Ines rubs her temples.

Kat rubs her shoulder and nudges the drink closer to her.

Ines downs the drink and Schmaltzy passes his own drink before retreating for refills.

“I know it just happened, but have you thought at all what you’re going to do?”

“I mean, I’ve spent my whole life thinking about what I would need to do, it’s just never been so real.”

Ines feels a fresh batch of tears coming, she takes another drink to push them back. Nick comes back with a pitcher of drinks this time, clearly sensing where this night is headed.

“Didn’t one of your sisters have immigration problems?” Nick asks as he pours her a refill.

“Sort of, but it only came up because she was getting married and applying for a green card.”

Kat opens her mouth and Ines shoot hers a glare, “to the man she loves who happened to be an American citizen.”

“Yeah, well, you kind of still love Clayton,” Kat mumbles, “I mean you guys still have pretty regular sex right, Nick?”

Ines turns her boiling anger towards Schmaltzy, “Oh my god, he told you we were having sex?!”

“No, you told her,” he points towards Kat, “and she told me, Kells hasn’t said anything.”

“We don’t do it that often.”

She huffs defensively before squeezing her eyes shut, hoping to return from whatever alternative universe she stumbled into.

“I know the idea sounds insane but think about it, you have all these pictures of you two together, you never made some big breakup announcement or anything, and you still live with him.”

“I mean it would be pretty hard to prove that you aren’t together,” Nick adds.

“From what you’ve told me about this babe, marrying someone is the easiest way for you to get on the right track for citizenship without having to go back to Mexico, where you might not be allowed back.”

She knows Kat is right, that she’s making an excellent case, but that doesn’t make the idea any easier to swallow.

“There’s not enough alcohol in the world.”

Ines spends the next couple hours putting that theory to the test; she doesn’t process much, too busy preserving her brain in alcohol. She loses track of time, of what she should be feeling.

The alcohol makes her feel warm and giddy, but her brain is screaming at her to feels anxious and alert. The mix of the emotion just leaves her a sobbing mess, curled up in Kat’s arms.

Then she hears a shuffle at the door followed by Clayton’s voice.

“You told him?! Oh my god,” she buries herself further into Kat.

“We called him to take you home, we thought you’d prefer to wake up in your own bed.”

Nick is speaking to him in hushed tones and Ines is immediately suspicious.

“I don’t need you to marry me, arcilla, I’ll be fine in Mexico,” her filter is non-existent at this point but somehow, she can still talk this much through her tears and inebriation.

“What is she talking about?” Schmaltzy clearly didn’t spill the beans.

Kat sits up, cradling Ines off to the side, like she’s a child who’s not supposed to hear an adult conversation. Even one this pertinent to her.

“Someone found out she doesn’t have legal citizenship and he’s probably going to report her.”

“What the fuck,” Clayton feels every muscle in his body tense.

“And these two idiots think you should marry me so I can get a green card.”

“Oh.”

Clayton’s never been great with big emotions, and Ines’ tears mixed with her words has his brain frazzled. He came thinking he was just being the DD for Ines, not DD for Ines in distress.

“Nez, babe, why don’t we table this for tonight. Let Kells take you back to your own bed and sleep it off. We’ll start fresh tomorrow,” Kat gently moves some hair behind Ines’ hear.

Ines doesn’t respond, just stands up and follows Clayton to his car on wobbly legs.

The drive isn’t far, but Clayton still feels like he has to say something, anything. He can’t find the words; they aren’t his strong suit. So instead, he wordlessly reaches across the console and grabs Ines’ hand.

⁄⁄⁄

The sun pours through her curtains with a vengeance; telling her it’s pretty late in the morning without even needing to open her eyes. Normally, she would hate wasting most of her day away in bed, but sleeping is a nice escape; not just from reality but from the pounding headache she feels behind her eyes.

Ines flips onto her back and throws an arm over her eyes, debating whether getting up and eating something is better than sleeping more.

Clayton makes the decision for her with a knock on the door, he sheepishly pokes his head in before coming to sit at the end of the bed. Offering up a bag of food, which Ines greedily takes knowing it contains her favorite breakfast sandwich.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she moans after taking a bite, digging into the bag to grab the extra hot sauce she knows Clayton didn’t forget.

She looks up and chokes on her sandwich.

Clayton is holding open a ring box with a diamond ring.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I talked to Schmaltzy and Kat this morning and you know, I think they’re right. Getting married to me is gonna be the easiest way for you stay in the country.”

“And ruin your life.”

“How will being married to you be that much different than it is now?”

He makes a good point. They broke up before the last off-season and he had offered to let her stay in his house since he would be traveling for a big chunk of the summer. Not worry about finding a new place while she got back on her feet. That was months ago and she’s still here, cooking him meals, cleaning up around the house, having sex with him.

The only real difference is she has her own room now.

“I don’t know, legal paperwork, maybe me being detained by ICE, you being shackled to me for god knows how long, probably two years at least. What if you meet someone?”

“I’m a professional athlete, I don’t think people would be to shocked if I cheated on you.”

Ines isn’t impressed by his attempt at a joke.

“This isn’t fair to you.”

“And it’s fair that you have to move back to a country you barely remember living in?”

He has a single-mindedness that no amount argument will sway. Especially while Ines is in this hungover state.

“Okay, Mr. Machismo, where’d you get the ring?”

“I– um– got it this morning, Kat helped pick it out. You know, need some proof this is real. And before you freak, I bought it with cash so there’s no paper trail or whatever.”

“Christ, you really thought this through?”

“You always told me it could be a possibility, so you know, I thought about what I’d do, especially when we were actually together.”

The look on his face makes her want to cry. He’s so sure; certain that she’s worth the effort, was worth having an escape plan for her.

“I know it’s crazy, but I’d hate to just sit by and watch you get torn away from your life when I could do something.”

“Okay,” Ines’ voice cracks, wet through the tears she can’t hold in anymore, “If you’re sure.”

Clayton nods, plucks the ring out of the box and holds it out on his palm for her; it seems too intimate or too sacrilegious for him to slip it on for her.

“I’ll call my immigration lawyer,” she twists the ring on her finger.

⁄⁄⁄

“Hola Ines!” Sierra, her immigration lawyer squeezes her tightly.

“And this must be the famous tonelada de arcilla,” Sierra grins at Clayton and shakes his hand.

“I can’t believe she told you that,” Ines grumbles as she takes a seat.

“Soledad couldn’t keep her big mouth shut if she tried,” Sierra moves to the other side of her desk, “besides I love your mom’s inability to understand American names, like Ashton.”

“Oh yeah, tonelada de ceniza,” Ines giggles.

“You’re saying I’m not special?” Clayton smirks.

“You’re very special mi arcilla,” she bumps his knee with her own.

“So, we’re here to talk about a marriage green card?” Sierra gets to business.

“We got engaged right before this, but now some asshole is threatening to report Nez’ status to immigration. So it sounds fishy, but we just want to start the process before anything happens.”

Ines nods with a tight smile. She was expecting Clayton to be here for moral support, not for him to take the lead.

“Okay, so we don’t know if he’s reported anything or if ICE will even investigate you. But since you work for a political organization that isn’t exactly beloved in Arizona, we’ll prepare for the worst.”

Instinctively, Clayton reaches out to hold Ines’ hand, stop her from fidgeting before she even starts.

Sierra looks at her watch, “we probably don’t have time to get you married today, but definitely can get your license today. It’s probably for the best, since this is kind of rush job you’ll probably want to dress up, have some friends as witnesses, make it clear this is above the board.”

Ines squeezes Clayton’s hand. Sierra is too busy shuffling through papers to notice any nerves, or maybe she’s just used to it.

“How’s that sound? Married by tomorrow, try to finish the paperwork in the next couple weeks?”

“Um- what about signing a pre-nup?” Clayton snaps his head towards Ines, “I mean I know it’s best if we have like joint accounts to show it’s legit or that I won’t end up on welfare immediately, but most people aren’t marrying millionaires.”

“You don’t need to sign a pre-nup,” Clayton sounds almost hurt at her suggestion.

Ines slips her hand out of his, “Don’t be stupid, we’re only moving this fast because of me, I don’t want you to be at any legal risk just because I need a green card.”

“I haven’t worked with a case quite like this, but a pre-nup might help your case that this is for the right reasons and not just for a green card.”

Ines starts chewing on her thumbnail, Clayton grabs her hand to stop her.

“I’m not your agent, but we can probably draft a quick contract of sorts that will say she will sign a post-nuptial and you can sort that out after with your people.”

Sierra then goes on a spiel about what to expect, what documents they’ll need, forms they need to fill out, the medical exam Ines will need. Clayton is trying to pay attention, but his eyes are glazing over. She hooks her foot around his ankle and tries to give him her most grateful smile, she hopes it doesn’t look too much like a grimace.

They find themselves at the courthouse the next day. Kat had insists they don’t see each other before the wedding, so they go in separate cars. It makes no sense since the foursome all knows this isn’t real, it’s all an act.

Kat stops her on the steps of the courthouse,

“You have your something old with the dress,” she gestures to the huipil her abuela had made for her mother, it was the only mostly white thing she owned, though it was mostly covered in bright colored flowers.

“And your something new with that rock on your finger, so here’s your something borrowed and blue,” she digs through her purse for a box with a pair of simple sapphire earring.

“You know it’s not–“

“This may not be your dream wedding, but let’s no fuck around with good luck.”

Kat looks like she wants to say more, but that’s not something Ines wants to dissect at the moment. She pulls her into a tight embrace instead.

Clayton and Nick are already waiting inside. Ines makes a silly scrunched up face that Clayton returns.

“Don’t be gross,” Kat nudges her, it’s when Ines realizes she’s filming.

“I honestly thought you were gonna wear a Gucci t-shirt,” Ines grins when they stop in front of the guys.

“I made him put on something with a collar,” Nick gives Clayton a playful shove.

“Aww he could have been your something blue,” Kat coos as Ines fixes the collar of Clayton’s steel blue shirt.

“But I still would have needed something borrowed,” she laughs until she remembers she’s borrowing Clayton, she drops her hands to her sides like they caught on fire.

Thankfully, the clerk calls their names, saving them from dwelling too long on that truth.

The ceremony takes all of 15 minutes. Ines all too aware of her hands sweating in Clayton’s as they hold hands in front of the judge. Picture perfect.

“By the power vested in my by the state of Arizona, I know pronounce you married!”

When neither react right away the judge speaks up again and winks, “now would be a lovely time to kiss.”

An awkward giggle bubbles out of Ines, but then Clayton is cupping her face and kissing her. She kisses back, and what should probably be a more chaste kiss gets a little heated. Ines likes kissing Clayton, sue her.

They’re broken a part by the obnoxious cheers from Kat and Schmaltzy. Both are flushed when they pull away, neither quite sure if it’s from lust or embarrassment.

“Now that’s how you start off a marriage, congratulations,” the judge smiles.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines is fidgeting with everything. She’s moved a vase of flower about twenty times, though it’s only moved about 1 inch away from its original place.

Clayton grabs her arms and pins them to her sides, “relax, it’s just your family.”

“Oh yeah, my totally calm, quiet, chill family. Nothing to worry about.”

“Your family loves me, we’ll be fine,” he lets her arms go and she immediately moves the vase again.

“Where’s your ring?”

She reaches into the pocket of her dress, “My mom will notice it immediately, I’ll put it on after we tell them,” she starts to turn before wheeling back around, “that we’re engaged they don’t need to know we’re actually married, I don’t want them worrying about immigration.”

Clayton nods.

“And where’s your ring?” she instinctively grabs his hand to look.

“You just said they shouldn’t know we got married,” he laughs at her pinballing thoughts.

Ines opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off by pulling out one of his chains, the silver ring hanging off of it.

“Okay,” she lets out a sigh, “keep it in your shirt, arcilla.”

Ines moves over to straighten an already pristine tablecloth; all the deception is making her ill. She doesn’t want to tell anyone, but she knows the news will get out somehow, and her mother will never forgive her. She might not forgive her if she learned she’s already married.

“When are we gonna tell your family? We can’t just be ‘engaged’ for two years or so without them knowing.

“We can call them after probably,” he shrugs, his confidence over this decision clearly wavering a bit. Ines feels secretly happy about that, they’re on a level playing field.

The doorbell rings, the commotion of her immediate family barely muffled through the door.

“Showtime,” Ines plasters on a big smile.

The family stumbles in, a cacophony of Spanish follows as they all speak over each other to greet Ines and pass off food.

“Clayton, mi amor,” Ines’ mom cups his face and kisses him all over before pulling him into a tight embrace, “I knew you two would figure it out.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we did.”

He takes some food and follows Ines to the kitchen as she gives directions to her family in Spanish. They’ve been together long enough he recognizes some of it, but he feels bad for never trying to learn Spanish in earnest.

One of her sisters, Teresa, is pouring shots of tequila. Ines smirks at him and is about to comment when a small body rams into him.

“Clayton! Look I lost a tooth at hockey,” Ines’ niece, Marisol smiles to show off the gap.

“She didn’t lose it during a game, she lost it shooting in our driveway,” her twin brother Mateo sneers.

“You’re just mad you have all your teeth still,” she sticks her tongue out.

“You know when you get adult teeth you want to keep them all, even as a hockey player,” Ines butts in.

“Whatever tia,” the little girl rolls her eyes and gets a scoff back from her aunt.

“The new season just started, how’s the new gear?” Clayton changes the subject.

“I don’t have to wear three pairs of socks in my skates anymore, and the sticks are so nice.” Mateo’s eyes gleam with excitement.

“Maybe later we can shoot around a bit,” Clayton smiles back.

The twins cheer at the idea before running off to tell their mom.

“You bought them gear for their new season?” Ines furrows her brows.

“Yeah, I have my connections,” he tries to play it off.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, but last season they had all that hand-me-down gear, it was literally the least I could do for getting them into the sport in the first place.

Ines nods.

“Lovebirds, we’re taking shots in your honor,” Teresa calls them over to the rest of the adults and hands them cups.

“¡Arriba, abajo, al centro y pa’dentro!”

The tequila goes down smooth, relaxing her enough to rip off the band aid.

“Well, we have something else for you to cheers,” Ines leans into Clayton’s side before reaching into her pocket and putting on the ring, “we’re engaged.”

There are screams, hugs, kisses, and even some tears. Ines feels the alcohol going to her head far faster than it should. Another glass being thrust into hand and another toast.

“Felicidades mija,” Ines’ dad brings her in close.

He’s a man of few words, partially because he never really learned the language of his new country. Those two simple words and the joy in his eyes makes Ines want to weep. He turns to Clayton, placing a strong hand on his shoulder and holding his other hand out.

“Bienvenido a nuestro familia.”

“Uh, gracias Hector, soy muy um–“ he leans over to Ines “how do I say I’m very excited?”

“Está muy emocionado, papi.”

“¡Más tequila!” He shouts and the family cheers.

“He’s happy for us, right? Not trying to kill me?” Clayton ribs Ines.

“I think this might be a test, if you die you wouldn’t have fit in anyway,” she smiles back.

“So, when are you going to get pregnant, mija?”

“Jesucristo mamí,” Ines furiously blushes, “couldn’t you have at least asked that in Spanish?”

“It takes both of you, I thought he should understand too.”

Her family is a little less embarrassing the rest of the party, they genuinely seem excited for Clayton to join the family. Her niece and nephew ask if Clayton is finally their real tio while she watches them pass around a ball on the sport court in the backyard.

Her heart aches with the truth.

It’s keeping her up in her bed. Usually, after that much tequila she’d be asleep within minutes, but there’s too much going on in her brain.

Her door creaks open and Clayton creeps into the room.

“How drunk are you still?” Ines tries to suppress the smile in her voice as Clayton clumsily crawls into the bed.

He merely grunts in response and moves around to get comfy.

“And you’re in here why?”

“I think the air conditioner isn’t getting into my room,” he mumbles and drapes an arm over Ines, burrowing his head into neck.

He can’t see her epic eye roll; she knows the air conditioner is probably fine and there are two other guest rooms he could use.

“You don’t have to lie, I know you like to cuddle when you’re drunk, babe.”

She winces at her casual use of a pet name, feels Clayton freeze for a second too.

She runs a hand through his hair until he relaxes again, “since my family tried to poison you, I’ll make you a hangover-approved breakfast before practice tomorrow.”

He hums in response, breath evening out until he’s asleep.

Ines is quick to follow, the weight of his arm a grounding comfort.

⁄⁄⁄

A month into the regular season and Ines still hasn’t been to a game. Kat warned her some of the significant others were starting to talk. Rumors of her breaking up with Clayton before the off-season had been swirling around. Sure, those rumors were true, but there was no concrete reason to believe them until her recent absence.

From what Ines heard about other teams, this group wasn’t particularly cliquey or gossipy. But sometimes that meant when there was something to talk about, they were hyper-focused. And that seems to be the situation now.

So being the girlfriend/fiancée/wife/whatever the hell she is to a member of team leadership, she invited the group over for dinner and drinks to watch an away game.

In actuality, it comes at the perfect time. Ines likes planning and organizing and it’s the perfect way to keep her mind off everything else. The most pressing being that Clayton is in St. Louis and made her promise to Facetime with him and his parents after the game. Keeping up appearances when she didn’t travel for the first game with her future in-laws.

Coming in at a close second is the fact the Blues are playing in town the day before Thanksgiving, so his mom thought it was a great time to visit for the holiday. Especially since Ines couldn’t make it out to Missouri this trip.

She’s already nauseous at the thought of moving her stuff back into the master bedroom, hiding all evidence of the truth. For now, the door is locked, so no nosy and/or drunk women pop in tonight.

“Pour yourself a drink and sit the fuck down Nez, the game is about to start,” Kat warns from her spot on the couch.

Ines stops organizing the growing pile of mail and rolls her shoulders back. She grabs a new bottle wine, knowing this group has already emptied the ones on the table before the anthem is even finished. She settles in the middle of the couch and cuddles into Kat’s side.

It’s nice to be back with a group of friends. Ines always gets lonely in the summer when most of them go back home and she’s stuck here, but this summer had been especially brutal.

“Ines, what the hell is that?” Claire shouts moments after puck drop.

Ines’ eyes dart around the room, looking for a scorpion or something that made it into the house.

“The ring on your finger!” Claire is grabbing her hand; the game is quickly forgotten in favor of this.

“Clayton proposed,” she feels her mouth attempt to smile, but it feels all wrong.

“Finally!” Someone cheers from behind her and the rest of the group seems to concur.

She didn’t mean to leave the ring on, it still feels so bulky and foreign. But she’s trying to at least wear it to work, so it doesn’t seem like some secret green card relationship. Though maybe keeping it from the WAGs makes it seem like a dirty secret.

In her mind it’s easier to cut and run from work acquaintances if this all blows up in her face. Clayton is stuck with most of these people, and Ines can’t imagine hurting him when he’s being so kind.

“Look how red she’s turning, no wonder she was staying away from us, Nez hates the spotlight,” Claire laughs.

“How did it happen?”

Ines wants to melt into the couch.

“Nothing special, he just brought me my favorite hangover breakfast and proposed while I was still in bed,” she shrugs, not wanting to lie more than necessary.

“Makes it convenient if you’re already in bed,” Kat waggles her eyebrows and Ines punches her arm.

“He knows I wouldn’t have accepted anything that wasn’t lowkey.”

“Yeah, except that gorgeous diamond, good work Kells,” Claire adds, giving the ring one last look before the action onscreen grabs back their attention.

Ines is a little wine drunk by the time the ladies clear out. Her face feels flushed and warm as she tries to clean up wine glasses and plates.

There’s one bottle with a little wine left and she pours herself another glass while she waits for Clayton to call. She starts to go through the mail she tossed aside before the game. A reminder for a dentist appointment, a credit card statement, a letter asking to go paperless for billing.

Her phone starts to buzz against the kitchen island, she answers the Facetime wishing it were a phone call instead.

“Hi arcilla, you played well tonight,” she’s actually not positive he played well, she mostly drank and caught up with her friends.

She looks down to the mail again, an official looking envelope addressed to her stares back at her.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry I’m a little tipsy,” she holds up her glass of wine for him to see.

“You had fun then?”

His dimple is on full display when he smiles and it reminds her of when they used to do this all the time; a call before either went to bed just to say hello or see each other’s faces. Ines knows what every hotel wall and headboard looks like in the NHL.

She plays with the corners of the envelope, “This is great and all, but I thought this was so I could say hi to your parents.”

Clayton starts to move, “they wanted to give us some privacy first.”

“Did they think we were gonna have quick phone se-ehh,” Ines peters off when his parents appear on screen.

Clayton is trying to hold back a laugh while Ines feels her flush grow brighter, “Hi Kelley, hi Bryan.”

“Hi honey, when are we gonna get you out here?” His mom asks.

“Sorry ,work never seems to be in my favor.”

She lies, it’s easier than saying she hasn’t been on a plane in 20 years because she’s afraid she’ll get deported. She’s never seen Clayton’s family outside of Arizona or somewhere within driving distance. They haven’t seemed too bothered, but she’s always worried they’re just good at hiding their true thoughts.

“One day,” she smiles, “we’re excited to see you in a couple weeks, is there anything you want us to make special for Thanksgiving?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re coming to our house.”

“Let me be a mom and take care of it” she scoffs, “you are my first daughter.”

Ines just nods because her voice might crack if she speaks.

“We’re getting a late dinner, so we’ll let you go. But can’t wait to see you, Ines,” Bryan says and gives a wave.

“Yeah, should be fun, enjoy dinner,” she waves back.

“Bye babe, love you,” Clayton waves, his eyes go wide before the call ends.

She’d give the moment more thought if she wasn’t itching to rip open the envelope in her hands.

Notice to Appear.

December 11th.

Suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in.

⁄⁄⁄

When Clayton gets home from the road trip Ines is in the hot tub. Her muscles having felt wound tight for the last week.

“Saw you’re all moved in,” he says as he dangles his legs into the tub.

Ines doesn’t open her eyes to look at him, just nods.

“And you have your immigration hearing in December.”

She nods again, she left the letter out by the table where they put their keys. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to tell him.

“I’ll be in Buffalo that day, but I–“

Ines opens her eyes, gives him an exasperated look, “You’ll play a hockey game and I’ll be fine on my own.”

“It’s not–“

She moves closer, almost to the space between his legs, “you’re doing so much for me, please don’t fight me on this. Just go play hockey.”

“Okay,” he nearly whispers.

Ines thinks about how easy it would be to give him a blow job right now, let her mind go blank for a bit. Shut up Clayton for a bit.

Before she can actually act on those thoughts, he places a hand on her cheek, running his thumb across her cheek bone.

“And you’re doing, okay?”

She honestly doesn’t know, but she does know she doesn’t want to talk about it.

So, she grabs Clayton’s wrist and pulls him in closer. She doesn’t wait for him to catch up, smashing their lips together and pushing her tongue into his mouth before he even starts kissing back.

He’s quick to catch up to her. Pulling her flush against him, filling the space between his legs. It’s the first time they’ve done this since they got married, it feels like all the building tension is finally exploding. Ines feels molten.

Clayton unties the back her bikini top and tosses it somewhere behind him with a wet splat. His hands cover her chest and she can’t help but shiver, maybe from the cold air but probably not.

She grabs his hair and pulls him away from her, “we should take this inside.”

Without second thought he pulls her out of the hot tub and towards the house, the strings of her bottoms undone and left outside as well. Ines paws at his shirt, trying to get her own fill of skin.

He pulls it over his head in one fluid motion as he maneuvers Ines towards the bedroom. Her back hits the mattress before she realizes they’re in the master bedroom.

They haven’t done this here since the break up six months ago, like it’s too intimate, too full of the past.

Clayton is hovering over her, the chain with the wedding ring dangling. The room is filled with her belongings again and she feels like she’s in some alternate universe. A world where they never broke up, where marriage was a logical step in the future.

She tries to clear her mind again, pulling Clayton down for a kiss because she wants this.

⁄⁄⁄

An alarm starts to blare and she feels the other side of the bed move.

“Sorry, that’s mine,” Ines apologizes and turns it off.

She lays back and stares at the ceiling for a bit. It feels too familiar to wake up in here, naked in the softest sheets she’s ever felt. But nothing has actually shifted, she’ll get out of bed and everything will be as it was.

She rubs the sleep from her eyes and gets out of bed to take a shower. Clayton is getting ready for practice when she gets out of the bathroom.

“I forgot how nice that shower is, you should redo the one guest bathroom, it could have better water pressure,” she jokes, though it doesn’t really land.

She wanders into the walk-in closet where she’s haphazardly put away some of her clothes, she feels Clayton follow her in, even though he’s mostly dressed.

“My parents get in today; do you want to go to the game with them tonight?” He sounds like he’s asking out a girl for the first time.

“The twins have a music recital or play or something I said I’d go to, but they can take my car to the arena so you don’t have to worry about that.”

She drops the towel on the floor and starts getting dressed for work, stopping before she zips up her dress, reading between the lines of Clayton’s question.

“But I’ll be at the game with them on Wednesday, I mean if you can get me a ticket,” she turns to flash a smile at Clayton to find that’s he’s only a step away.

“I think I can manage that,” he turns Ines around, moving her hair out of the way and zipping up the dress for her, fingers lingering at her neck for a second too long.

Ines stops herself from shivering and turns around, “I have to leave, but see you after the game.”

She gives him a quick peck against her better judgement, “good luck.”

The casual touches don’t disappear in the following days. Ines can’t tell if they’re putting a show on for his parents or not. The touches seem too instinctive to just be a spectacle, but maybe that’s because they’re sharing a bed again and can’t seem to keep their hands off each other behind closed doors.

Though that seems to be seeping outside of the bedroom, too.

The morning after his parents arrive, Kelley is in the kitchen making coffee and gives them a knowing look when they come out of the bedroom, as if to tell them they were too loud even from the other side of the house. Ines decides to pick up breakfast on her way to work rather than sit through breakfast at home.

That night Ines is laid out on the couch not paying attention to the football game playing on TV. Clayton lifts her head up and then places her back down on his lap when he sits.

She groans as she tries to get more comfortable, “You make a terrible pillow, you’re too bony.”

“I think it’s the titanium rod in my leg,” he says back, squirming underneath her to make her more frustrated.

“You were bony before then too,” she rolls her eyes and pretends to focus on the game and ignore Clayton’s fingers brushing under her shirt.

Wednesday is a half day for Ines, she gets home to a surprisingly empty house and enjoys drinking a beer and mindlessly watching Tiktoks in peace.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting you home,” Ines jumps when Clayton comes up behind her.

“Wasn’t expecting to find an empty house,” she shrugs.

“My parents are picking up Jake from the airport,” he wraps his arms around Ines’ waist, “I was about to take my pre-game nap, but I wouldn’t say no to some company.”

He presses a couple kisses into her neck, “an afternoon nap sounds nice.”

She barely finishes the sentence before he’s walking her to the bedroom. Clayton is a little handsy as Ines crawls into the bed.

“I’m serious about an actual nap, I won’t be held responsible if you have a bad game.”

Clayton rolls away, hands up in surrender.

Ines rolls towards him wrapping an arm around his middle, “For all your suffering, I’ll give you a blow job if you win tonight.”

“A victory blow job? You didn’t even do that when we were dating,” he chuckles, the sound amplified with her ear on his chest.

“What can I say, I’m in a giving mood,” she kisses his pec and closes her eyes.

Clayton’s alarm goes off and Ines groans.

“You can sleep longer,” he runs a hand through her hair before slipping out from under her.

“Nah, I’ll just be more tired later,” she rolls over but doesn’t get out of the bed, watches Clayton go into the closet.

“You should wear the green suit from the awards, it’s a special request from Marisol.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She thinks I have a say over what you wear and she told me it’s her favorite,” she watches Clayton start to get undressed, “you did look hot in it,” she smirks when he fumbles with a hanger in response.

When he comes out dressed, he still has bedhead. Ines gets up to fix it, he jokingly bats her hands away as they leave the room.

“Just let me fix this one piece arcilla, you look like we just fucked,” she stops in her tracks at the sight of Clayton’s family, “Hi Jake, good to see you.”

Jake nods in her direction, not particularly friendly, but she can pretend it’s because of the awkward conversation they just heard.

Ines knows Clayton told his brother everything, or more than Ines would like. She’s not sure exactly what he told his parents about the break up, but they seem to have forgiven anything pretty quickly. She knows Jake is a little weary of her now, and maybe her motives.

Clayton is either oblivious or just trying to play it off and gives him a bro-hug before he heads off to the game

The awkward air between Jake and Ines remains, not that they were ever specifically close, but this feels extra icy. She tries to avoid sitting next to him, but the two get caught between the parents. And she’s not even in her usual seats near Kat to have a buffer.

The game is a bit messy, passes aren’t connecting, the power play might as well be missing, but the crowd is into it. Mullett is small enough to feel like you’re always in the game, which helps Ines because before Clayton she knew next to nothing about hockey. Being this up close means she’s 99% sure she understands the rules, except goalie interference.

The second period ends with the Blues up by one, which isn’t too bad considering how the game is looking.

“Have you two talked about any wedding plans?” Kelley turns to Ines,

On her other side she hears Jake snort on his drink, she makes a mental note to double check how much Clayton has told his brother.

“Not really, I had a quinceañera so I already had my big party and fancy-dress moment,” it’s the truth, her 15th birthday fulfilled a lot of princess dreams she may have had.

“You’re both still young, you can have long engagement to figure it out if you want.”

Ines feels the anxiety seep out of her bones.

“You two could even get married at a courthouse if that’s that you wanted.”

The tension comes back so quickly it almost gives her whiplash.

Jake shoots up and mumbles something about food. Ines would follow him, but she’s not sure a public confrontation is the best idea.

Thankfully there’s some more hockey to distract her, the Coyotes end up clawing back but lose in OT on a poorly timed line change.

There’s not a great place to wait for the boys at Mullett, so they sit in their seats for a while before meandering down.

Kat jumps on Ines the moment she sees her.

“Look who’s gracing us with her presence,” Kat kisses her cheek and slides off her back before she can accidentally knock them to the ground.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, bad WAG alert,” Ines swats her away.

She hears Jake mumble something, but can’t quite make it out. That’s when Kat actually seems to comprehend that Clayton’s family is here.

“The two lovebirds have been busy being cooped up, we haven’t seen them both in the flesh for a while,” she gives a cheeky smile and winks at the Kellers.

“We’re in the same house and they’re having a hard time keeping it in the bedroom, so consider yourself lucky,” Bryan laughs with Kat while Ines cheeks burn.

“Oooh la la Nez, loving this pre-honeymoon phase for you,” she gives Ines a meaningful pinch on the side, a warning they will be talking about this later.

“Speak of the devil,” Kelley laughs and pulls her son into hug.

“Kells show me some of this PDA everyone is talking about,” Kat is clearly not above egging this on despite the sharp look Ines gives.

Clayton pulls her in tight, ducking his head so he can whisper to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t live up to our end of the bargain. No prize for me,” he fake pouts.

“Cause I’m still in a giving mood, here’s a consolation prize for a one-point night,” Ines pulls Clayton in for a kiss, ignoring the catcall from Kat.

“That’s it?” Clayton her pulls her in tightly to his side.

“Don’t push it,” she elbows him in the side, ignores the knowing look Kat is directing her way.

Ines manages to convince everyone the brothers should ride home together, since they don’t see each other enough. Partially, to prove to Kat that there’s nothing going on; partially hoping that Clayton and Jake will talk through whatever weirdness is going on.

⁄⁄⁄

“Do you have to go golfing and leave me alone with your mom?” Ines complains before stuffing her face in the pillow

“You like my mom,” Clayton rolls back onto the bed and rubs her back.

“Yeah, but preparing Thanksgiving is like serious mother-daughter shit, I’d love some backup.”

“You could come golfing.”

“Cause I’d love to get made fun of instead.”

“Those are kind of your two options,” he kisses her shoulder.

“Fine, staying home it is,” she flips over onto her back, “can you at least make sure Jake won’t be weird when you guys come back.”

“He’s just looking out for me, doesn’t want you taking advantage of me,” Clayton absentmindedly traces up and down her arm.

“Did you tell him this was your suggestion? And that I signed a pre-nup? I won’t take advantage and steal your money if that’s what he’s worried about.”

His hand stills for a moment, “I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry about it.”

He stands up again, “have fun cooking.”

“I hope you lose!” Ines calls back.

Ines wanders into the kitchen an hour later, Kelley already deep in prep.

“Sorry, I went back to sleep. Though I’ve never cooked Thanksgiving so I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“You’re a great cook, I think you’ll be fine,” Kelley laughs before instructing her on how to finish prepping the stuffing.

Ines takes off the engagement ring and places it in the middle of the island, out of reach. She rubs the naked finger and notices there’s already a faint tan line. She flexes the fingers, like that will give her some answers. Like why taking it off doesn’t feel like unhooking an anchor that’s pulling her under anymore.

She looks up to see she’s been caught by Kelley. If she has some thoughts, she doesn’t share them with Ines.

They work mostly in quiet, the Thanksgiving Parade playing on the TV in the other room. Kelley stopping every once in a while, to watch or tell Ines about watching the parade growing up. How Clayton used to worry the balloons were going to eat the people holding them when he was a toddler.

“This is your first turkey?” Kelley says as Ines puts the bird in the oven

“Yeah, I spent most of my Thanksgivings helping my mom with housekeeping, so can’t do this but ask me to make a bed, I got you,” Ines laughs.

“This calls for a toast then,” Kelley finds some Bailey’s and pours it into their coffees, “To sharing my secrets with my new daughter.”

She clinks her mug against Ines, the sound scrambles something in Ines’ heart, “You know Clay and I broke up right?”

Kelley takes a long sip of her coffee and hums.

“He told us you needed some time apart. Because of all the uncertainty around the team and some things he didn’t really get into,” Kelley trails off.

“It’s understandable you’re both so young and had to go through some really intense things together. I think it was really mature what you two decided, but I’m really glad you worked it out, you make Clayton so happy. I think happier than hockey, if that’s possible.”

Ines lip starts to wobble, she tries to stop the tears. But how can she when even Clayton’s mom believes their lie? How can she break her heart down the line?

“Oh darling,” Kelley pulls her into a tight embrace that only a mom can give, “love is never easy, and if down the road it’s not right anymore, that will be okay too. It’s privilege to find love at all.”

That sends Ines into another wave of sobs. She buries her face into Kelley’s shoulder as she gently rubs Ines’ back and sways them side to side.

Once her cries seem to calmed down to sniffles, Kelley moves away enough to see Ines’ face. She wipes away the few stray tears, “I see the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching, I think you’ll happy together for a very long time.”

Kelley smiles, her eyes a little glossy like she might cry too. And with a shaky breath Ines tries to give her a smile back.

They hear the door open and the boys start to come into the house.

“Who won?” Kelley calls out as they come around the corner.

Ines tries to busy herself by rolling out the pie crust they had forgotten.

“Jake squeaked one out,” Bryan comes around the island and kisses Kelley, “smells great ladies, you need any help?”

“Not right now, we were gonna take a break soon,” Kelley winks at Ines.

Clayton comes and leans into Ines from behind, his hands boxing Ines in. He kisses her cheek before he notices her eyes rimmed red.

“You, okay?” He whispers, kissing below her ear.

“Yeah, whatever onions we bought were like tear gas,” she cracks a smile and leans back into him.

“We had to evacuate for a while, I think we just got it under control before you guys came home,” Kelley smiles and pulls Bryan out of the kitchen, following the sounds of a football game Jake put on.

Ines turns around, still boxed in by Clayton. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and hangs her weight on him, feeling a bit tired. He moves his hands to her hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Was it rough morning alone with my mom?”

“No, it was really nice, actually.”

She pulls back to give him a genuine smile, plays with the ends of his hair, “And did you talk to Jake?”

“Yeah, and I let him win so I think he’ll be in a good mood.”

“Wow, you did that for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smirks before dipping down to kiss her.

“Why can’t you let me win?” Ines pouts when the pull a part.

“I can’t act that well,” he’s biting back a mischievous grin, “but if you ask nicely, I can help you improve your back swing.”

He’s gently moving her hips side to side when Ines gives him a playful shove, “Keep it in your pants Keller, your family is in the other room.”

“Hasn’t stopped you much this week,” he pulls her flush against his chest, his hands wandering to her ass.

“Oh my god, there’s not gonna be that kind of giving today.”

Clayton’s about to respond, “Is it safe to come into the kitchen or are you two fondling each other?”

Ines moves Clayton’s hands off her butt and to his sides, “All clear Jake, your brother was just leaving to take a shower, a cold one,” she whispers the last part.

Jake makes a gagging sound, “you two are gross.”

“One day you’ll have someone to fondle other than yourself,” Clayton punches his brother in the arm on the way out of the kitchen.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines and Kat are sitting on the steps of the courthouse, finishing their coffees. The coffee was probably a mistake, it’s sitting acidic and heavy in her stomach.

At least the universe wasn’t cruel enough to have her hearing at the same courthouse as she got married. She doesn’t think her heart could take the irony.

Kat is jittery, her knee bouncing erratically. Caffeine doesn’t have that kind of effect on her, so Ines knows it must be something else.

“I think I’m supposed to be the nervous one.”

“I still don’t understand why you broke up with Clayton in the first place.”

Ines whips her head around like there’s someone waiting around the corner to record this kind of damning evidence.

“You said you’d explain, but you never did. And it’s clear you still have feelings for him.”

Ines scoffs.

“Fine, you don’t love him, then tell me why you broke up and why you never moved out? You had plenty of time to find a new place, Nick and I would have let you move in.”

“I was tired of holding him back.”

Ines gulps down the cold remnants of her drink.

“It was so exhausting telling him no. No, I can’t go home with you to meet your parents. No, I can’t go to the All-Star Game in Florida cause it’s not in driving distance. I can’t be your date to a wedding because I can’t get on a plane. I can’t have bye week with all our friends in the fucking country I was born in because I may not get to come home!”

She tries to take even-keeled breaths; she doesn’t want to start crying before her hearing even starts.

“And he couldn’t tell people because what if someone slipped up and I got deported, or worse they found my parents or Soledad. She has kids!”

Kat puts a gentle hand on her knee.

“And he shouldn’t have to deal with that, he could find someone less complicated and someone who could actually be there for him.”

“Did he ever tell you those things were a problem?”

“No, but I could see how frustrating all those little things were becoming; how upset he’d get with every new thing I couldn’t do.”

“Yeah, he’s upset because you couldn’t live a full life without worry. Because he loves you, Ines! He’s still in love with you.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s just nice. He would have said something by now, not just married me and suffered in silence.”

“Oh, he should have said something? Like you’re saying something because you clearly still love him, too?”

Ines just blinks at Kat, like her brain can’t possibly comprehend what her friend is saying. She doesn’t even get the chance to argue because her alarm goes off.

“You have a court hearing, but don’t think justice will stop us from talking about this later,” Kat says sternly.

In the court room, Ines sits between her lawyer and Kat. Her brain feels too fried to keep up with the basics the judge opens up with.

“Now it says the couple was wed on September 14th of this year. Just a few days before the official report was filed about Ms. Ruiz’ status. You’ll understand why this seems a little convenient.”

“Yes, your honor,” Sierra stands up holding a file, “but the couple was engaged before any officially filings were made. And you can see in the documents we have a receipt from when Mr. Keller bought the engagement ring back in March of this year. If you need to see Ms. Ruiz’ ring for confirmation she can approach the bench.”

“That won’t be necessary. Seeing as all the applications are going through the appropriate channels, I see no reason to hold Ms. Ruiz in custody while she waits for her green card interview.”

The gavel bang echoes in Ines’ head, but the judge is already moving on to the next case. Sierra and Kat help lead her out of the courtroom. They’re excitedly chattering, and Ines knows she should join in, knows this is good news, but she hasn’t quite caught up.

She sends Clayton a text: Hearing went well, won’t be going to prison, then promptly turns off her phone.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines gets two days to stew before Clayton comes home.

He picks her up and spins her around in excitement the instant he sees her. His smile falters when he sets her down and sees the borderline grim look on Ines’ face.

“You bought the ring in March?”

Clayton doesn’t know what to say, shocked by the realization.

“They brought up the receipt during the hearing, to help prove that it wasn’t just a last-minute wedding.”

Ines bites at her thumb nail, the ring catching the light. Clayton feels some relief that she hasn’t taken it off.

“You wanted to marry me before we broke up?”

“You breaking up with me kind of ruined my plans,” Clayton shrugs, not sure the direction this conversation is taking.

Ines laughs in spite herself.

“There were all those weddings you couldn’t come to and I thought you needed a chance to think without any pressure from my life, I didn’t expect it to be permanent.”

Ines audibly swallows, they’re walking around the heart of the issue, both too scared to be the first to show all their cards.

“I still got to marry you, not in the way I wanted. But I don’t regret that, no matter what you think.”

Ines moves to take off the ring, Clayton holds his breath while his heart clenches painfully.

“Ask me again.”

“What?”

Ines hands him the ring, her voice wavers a bit, “ask me again.”

He fumbles with the ring for a second before dropping down to one knee.

“I- uh don’t have anything romantic to say. But I love you Ines and I want to be with you as long as you’ll have me. So will you marry me?”

Ines lets out a small sob before covering her face, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m a girl who cries when she gets proposed to.”

“Is that a yes? Cause otherwise this is really fucking mean.”

“Shit, sorry, yes. That’s a yes,“ she clambers to get Clayton standing again and kisses him desperately.

“I love you arcilla, I’m sorry it took me a while to realize I never stopped,” she says between kisses, not wanting to stop now.

Clayton laughs and pulls away enough to put the ring back on, “it was worth the wait.”

This time Clayton pulls her into a kiss, savoring the moment he imagined for months and months.

#clayton keller #clayton keller fic #arizona coyotes #arizona coyotes fic #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fics #nhl stories #nhl fics

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ne0nwithazero · 4 months

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Well now I really want a drabble of that 'the world's fake' conversation.

It's a bit of a draft I just spent these past hours writing on my phone 💙 I wrote and am posting through my phone so apologies in advance if if the formatting gets messed up ;;

***

The silence was deafening. Mike had a tense look on his face, looking to avoid his TV friend's gaze as much as possible.

Despite having no visible eyes, he could still feel Host's gaze burrowing deep into his soul. Or maybe in his nerves, he was projecting emotions and trying to picture some form of expression in the soft static of their screen.

The cathode frowned pensively, taking their small whiteboard and erasing what they had written on it, picking up their marker as they wrote something else before flipping it to Mike.

"You don't believe me."

"N-No, not that!” Mike immediately snapped out of his trance, almost losing his balance as the phantom pain of where his limbs should be continued to linger "It's just that… It's a lot to take in…!"

Host's stern expression softened as they held the board close to their body, not actually writing anything. Their gaze continued being on Mike, who did the closest approximation to sitting down that his small incomplete body could allow.

He was still having trouble processing it all, if he told himself one month ago that he'd be living at a stranger's house because his body broke down, he'd call himself insane. He felt insane, claustrophobic, and like he was losing his mind.

But Host… Host wasn't a stranger, at least not anymore, spending all of this time together, a bond was inevitable. But he wasn't even sure if the TV also considered him a friend, or if he was just a nuisance brought by a fate that had decided that they were now bound together.

It was hard to read Host's expression, not that he could blame them. Learning that there was no way to fix their voice, left Mike with little hope that he'd be able to ever walk on his own again.

And the way Host would look at him just left him embarrassed, it was like a mix of pity, but also an anxious avoidance, like they expected him to resent them for what happened.

"I do believe ya…" Mike quietly stated "I'm just havin' trouble with understandin' the full picture…"

He saw Host hold their breath as he said this, writing down again.

"Full picture?" They wrote and Mike nodded in response.

"That none of this ain't… real…?" He hesitantly muttered, hearing a quiet wheezy gasp from Host who nodded while fidgeting with their hands.

Host knew the lightner who spoke in their mind didn't want them telling Mike about any of this, that he "wasn't like them", that he "wouldn't get it", but Host still cherished having someone listen to them. Mike just had a way of keeping their thoughts from drifting.

"And if the world isn't real… Am I…? A-Are you…?" The small microphone seemed tense as he spoke, looking up with an expression like he was both terrified of them but also knowing there was no one else he'd rather trust. "What is real?”

These last words seemed to get to Host as they began to quietly breathe. Were they real? Was everyone else fake? Nothing but projections of objects in a lightner's home? Were they even alive? Was any of this actually happening?

"S-So if we ain't real… I… My lightner… He…" Mike expectantly looked at Host, who gave him a look of mourning.

"Objects. In the light world. That's what we are." Host wrote before realizing how shaken Mike had gotten by this. Was this all there was to it?

"B-But… What is this?! Wh-What are we?" Mike called out, realizing he was getting overwhelmed and swallowing in deep "I-It just makes no sense…!"

Host looked apologetically, reaching out to Mike who allowed them to hold and hug him close while whispering a very croaky and glitchy apologies.

Focusing on the sensation, Mike closed his eyes, his tail wrapping around his friend's hands as he took deep breaths. Host remained quiet, more than usual that was, laying back on the couch they had been sitting on.

If they had a heartbeat, Mike could swear he'd be able to hear it, instead, he focused on the soft static sound of their screen and the gentle whirring of the machinery within their chest.

Mike had been denying himself the thought, but Host's company made him way too happy. He was still terrified of them, but yet, no one ever held him with such care or bothered to comfort him. How he wished he still had the arms to hold them back. How he wished to make their pain go away.

"Host… I… I dunno what bein' real is… But… You're real… to me at least…"

Host didn't respond, but Mike heard their chest whirring more intensely as he spoke, with their hands still holding him and playing with his cord. They tried to speak, but winced as they did, taking a deep breath before very slowly trying to sign something with their hands.

"You… R… E… A… L"

Mike looked up at them with bright eyes, tail curling curiously as Host looked embarrassed and grabbed their board, quickly writing something down with Mike still on their chest.

"Idk the sign for REAL yet"

They showed this and grinned as Mike began to laugh quietly before sighing.

"We can keep learnin' your signs, don't worry 'bout it…" His smile became solemn "I dunno what's really out there… But… Is it so bad in here? Where we are?"

Confused by his statement, Host looked thoughtful and then wrote again, taking about a minute to do so, getting shakier as they did.

"You can't move. I can't talk. Aren't you upset? I don't like this world. I don't like the pain. I don't like that I did this to you."

Their words became wobblier by the end as Mike looked apologetically at them, becoming thoughtful and quiet once more as he rested on their chest.

"I'm upset, but… it's not at you, y'know? He sighed "Forget 'bout me, just… I want ya to know that I… uh… n-nevermind..."

He paused, hesitating as Host glanced expectantly at him, signing a "What is it?" to which Mike grew flustered.

"N-No, it's nothing important…!" But their gaze spared him no mercy as he glanced at the sides "...It's just that… This… E-Even if it ain't real… Is still the most alive I've felt in a long time… That oughta count for somethin', I think..."

Host became flustered by this comment, clearing their throat and grabbing their board, making it so it was at an angle that covered their embarrassed face, and they held their marker in place, unsure of how to respond.

"...Host?”

They began writing again, before quickly flipping the board.

"I feel the same way."

#Jay Asks #Anonymous #Mike #Host #My writing

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year

Text

To Have and To Heal (Part 5)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Martin loves his teammates, he really does. They're his brothers in every way but blood. They'll lift him up if he hits a rough patch and keep his feet firmly on the ground when praise from the press threatens to inflate his ego. There's a few of them that are acutely tuned into his moods too, which generally he doesn't think twice about.

Today however, he'd rather be left alone than have Kieran hovering over his shoulder. The Scotsman has been in Martin's shadow all day, a constant presence that he cannot shake. Today is an individually minded training day, each boy following their own tailored regime in the weights room for the first few hours, meaning Martin expected to be able to work off his mixed emotions. But having Kieran so close is grating on his nerves, until finally he can't stand it.

"Mate, can I help you?"

Kieran pauses on his machine, brown eyes wide. "Erm, no? I mean I don't need a spot for leg presses so…" Kieran maintains his mask of innocence despite Martin's hard stare, which only further aggravates him. When Kieran flashes Martin a smile that's all teeth, Martin swears under his breath and resets his machine so he can turn to face his friend.

"Why have you been shadowing me all day? You're like a- a…" Martin searches for the English word, his brain short circuiting. "A flea on a dog's back! I'm trying to work through something here-"

Kieran snaps his fingers and leans forward, "there! That's exactly what I've been waiting for- an admission! All week you've been off mate, everyone can tell. I'm just the unlucky one that got nominated to figure out why!"

Martin rolls his eyes. His lads are busy bodies. If they could mind their own business, Martin wouldn't feel so shitty because he might actually be able to process his things properly. Instead he's ended up more frustrated, because Kieran won't give him an inch to breathe.

Yes, it's true. Martin has been quiet lately, keeping to himself more than usual. He isn't surprised that the team has picked up on it. He hasn't done anything to hide it. He's allowed Kieran to take over team talks instead of himself; anyone with half a brain would recognize his out of character behavior. That doesn't mean he's about to pour out the contents of his wilted heart to Kieran in the middle of a training session though.

"I'm fine Kieran." Martin's response is a touch too firm, causing Kieran's eyebrows to shoot up. Martin draws a deep breath and dials it back, forcing a smile, "really, I'm fine mate. It's nothing I need to discuss, I'm working through it on my own."

Of course, being Martin's best friend means Kieran can see straight through his cheesecloth lie. It also means Kieran can read Martin like a book, thus knowing when it's best to leave an issue alone. So Kieran simply nods, murmurs a soft, 'I'm here if you need me' and continues on with his day.

Once Kieran moves to another machine, the rubber band around Martin's chest eases enough for him to breathe properly. It allows him room to think and reflect. He needs to clear his head… which is part of the issue.

Martin's head is a mess because you muddle his thoughts. It's gotten to the point that he can't walk outside and see the sun without thinking about you, and that terrifies Martin.

He hasn't felt this way about anyone since the day he met Maria. She became the center of Martin's world from the moment he laid eyes on her, only shifting to make room for Atla when she was born. For three years his girls shared equal space in his heart, until fate stepped in and ripped one of them out of the picture.

It took Atla a long time to understand what happened. Martin honestly isn't positive she understands now, actually. The weeks immediately following Maria's passing were the hardest. Each night Atla would ask for her mummy to tuck her in and listen to a story that Martin would read, and each night Martin had to gently remind her that mummy wasn't there. Martin lost count of how many times he'd told her 'Mum's in the sunset now søta, she's watching over you even if you can't see her'. Through it all, Atla rarely cried, thank god- a three year old doesn't truly know how to process grief after all. If Atla had shed tears, Martin isn't sure he would have survived.

For two years, Martin has thrown all his energy into being a father. Anything he has to spare goes into being Arsenal's captain, and he thinks he's doing a pretty damn good job of balancing both. The learning curve was steep, and he still discovers new nuances about being a better parent nearly every day. The fathers on his team have been his backbone, though none of them understand the full weight he bears on his own shoulders. At the end of the day, they have partners to lean on. Martin only has himself.

The scary part is, he's beginning to wonder if he's meant to be a single parent forever. He's found himself caught between a rock and a hard place: continuing to remain a loving, loyal widow, or chasing his own potential happiness. It feels like a betrayal to even consider letting someone new occupy his heart the way Maria had, but at the same time he wonders if it's fair to Atla to allow her to grow up without a maternal figure to guide her. He's not stupid; one day Atla will have questions he can't answer himself, ones that only a woman can answer properly. No matter how much research he conducts or how much he prepares himself, he will never experience the world the same way a woman might.

Is he robbing Atla of a fundamental right, the right to grow up with a mum at her side? Everything he does is for Atla, for his daughter- is he being selfish by cutting himself off from the chance to find love?

"Oi Martin! Come on, we're headed to the pitch!"

For now, his questions will remain unanswered. He has a job to do, and he takes that job seriously. Martin quickly cleans up his mess and wipes down his machine before following the rest of his team outside for some small group drills, which is one of his favorite activities.

Martin leads a round of keep away, passing back and forth in a small circle whilst Saka tries to intercept. It takes his mind off of anything you related, which comes as a welcome realization. Martin laughs with his friends, doubling over to clutch his stomach when Saka falls flat on his back after tripping over the ball. It feels good to be his normal self again, not having to worry about anything except the task at hand.

The end of their session comes sooner than Martin expects. He showers and organizes his cubby, preferring things to be neat when tours come through. Then he makes his rounds to chat with the staff to ensure everyone knows they're an important part of the team in his eyes. Eventually he can't stall any longer and he is forced to head out to pick up Atla from school.

There is a pit in his stomach as he pulls up to the limestone building. Pick up is simultaneously the part of his day that he dreads and that he looks forward to most. On one hand, pick up means he gets the rest of the night with his family. On the other hand, he has to see you, which is both a blessing and a curse.

The gymnasium is on the opposite side of the school but he always parks out front, preferring to walk the halls and chat a bit when he can. Today he chats less, intent on seeing his daughter as soon as he can. He whistles quietly as he walks, smiling when he hears Atla clock his tune.

"Papa's here!"

Martin is already crouched when she comes barreling over to wrap her little arms around his neck to squeeze him in a bear hug. At last Martin feels the remaining bits of his troubles melt away thanks to his daughter. She is the center of his world, and being with her makes him feel at home.

"Hallo søta, did you learn lots today?" It takes everything in him to not immediately look up and meet your eyes. Martin still isn't sure how to act around you; he'd extended an olive branch in the form of chocolates and tulips and he is patiently waiting for you to reciprocate his energy. Until then, he is determined to leave you be.

"So much! I had a fun day- David tried chasing me on the playground but don't worry papa, I made sure he knew I wouldn't let him!"

"She was very adamant," you say, your sweet voice drawing Martin's attention. Your smile is the first thing he truly notices. The next is the way you fiddle with the badge hanging around your neck, and the third is the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

Martin tips his head and speaks before he can filter himself. "Those boots are new, they look nice. I feel like I've seen those in the window at Harrods, no?"

"Oh, um- yes actually, they were an early birthday treat to myself actually. I saw them and couldn't resist!"

Martin would love to unpack that, so he smiles at Atla. "Go clean up your coloring things, lille venn, okay? Go on, don't make Miss. Sunshine clean up your mess!"

Once Atla is out of earshot, Martin stands to his full height and smiles. "Happy early birthday. I suppose I'll have to get you something, seeing as you do so much for Atla."

"Oh, you really don't need to Martin! I appreciate you just wishing me a happy birthday. That's really more than enough."

Martin's heart sings when you address him by name. It amazes him how something as simple as hearing you speak his name can set a flurry of butterflies loose in his stomach.

"I'd like to get you something, if you're alright with that? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable. From one friend to another?"

There it is, another try with the olive branch. Martin silently prays you'll accept it, because in honesty he still isn't sure how he feels about this whole thing and he wants some sort of confirmation that he isn't committing a match-ending foul.

It takes you a minute, but Martin exhales when you nod. "I think that's fine, friends give each other presents all the time… friends also come to birthday parties, yeah?"

Your voice is soft as clouds and your eyes are tentative as they search his face. Martin is certain you pick up on his amazement. You must, because you've stunned him into silence. Martin isn't a man who is silent often.

"Mar?"

Oh, faen. Not that name.

It's as if you reached into his consciousness and plucked out the one surefire way to sink yourself into his heart. He hasn't allowed anyone to call him Mar since his wife had passed because it never felt right. But now? Martin finds himself smiling despite the twinge of bittersweet memories.

"Yes. I'll come if you let me know the details. Friends… friends attend birthday parties, that's a friendly thing."

Martin is falling hard. Guilt gnaws at him despite the excitement that washes over him when you grin, clearly feeling much the same as he is. Your smile quiets the war in his head temporarily, reducing the cacophony of noise to a whisper in the background.

Amazing. Absolutely amazing that you have such an effect on him. He's lived with that noise for years and in seconds, you've dulled it to nothing.

"I'll see you there." You bite your lip and tuck your hands behind your back, which is somehow the most endearing thing. "It's at that same bar you saw me at last month, this Friday. You don't have to drink or anything I promise, I know you have a match on Sunday!"

"I'll be there, I promise." It's as if Martin is seeing you for the first time. The way the sun filters through the skylight and illuminates the gentle planes of your face mesmerizes him. He notes the little curve of your lips that grows the longer he stares. Beautiful with a selfless soul- that's how he'd describe you.

"Papa, I'm all done!"

Atla shatters the moment when she tugs on Martin's sleeve. She's too adorable to be upset with, so Martin gives her a pass and offers you an apologetic smile which you accept with a wave of your hand. Martin scoops up Attie with little effort, propping her on his hip and kissing her rosy cheek.

"Say goodbye to Miss. Sunshine," Martin prompts, smiling when Atla does just that. "I'll see you tomorrow," he adds, that same smile playing on his lips.

"Tomorrow for sure, and then Friday evening."

"Wouldn't miss it, søta."

**********

"Kieran, I need you to watch Attie on Friday."

"Uhh sure mate, what for? It's pretty short notice, but you're lucky I don't have anything planned."

"Shut up mate- if you had plans you wouldn't let any of us hear the end of it."

Kieran drops his weights to the padded floor. The resulting thud rumbles through Martin's bones, "Okay, for one, that's harsh even if it is true. And second, why am I watching Attie? I mean I love her and I have no problem doing it, but what's so important that you'd leave her with me?"

Martin knows he can be honest with Kieran. He's probably the one person who won't ever judge him. Regardless, Martin wants to keep this secret for a little longer, at least until he sees how Friday goes.

"I'm just going out with some friends. You're sure you can watch Atla? I can make you up a list of what to do."

Kieran chuckles, "Mate, it's not my first time watching my goddaughter. I got this! Bedtime is eight on the weekends, no television an hour before bed, and… Friday isn't a bath night so that makes my job easy! I'll plunk her down with a set of coloring books and some blank pages and we can go wild, it'll be fun!"

"Alright yeah, that seems fair. Just don't let her have too much-"

"Sugar, yes Martin I am aware!" Kieran waves a hand flippantly, "I know what I'm doing like I've said! Just have some fun doing whatever secret mission you've got, you need to loosen up a little."

"I do not-" Martin begins to snap, but then notes Kieran's amused smile and stops himself. Martin forces himself to breathe and unwind before finishing, "I do not need to loosen up, I'm doing just fine thank you."

"Sure mate if you say so- you're just going out with 'friends' that aren't at Arsenal, nothing odd about that!"

Again with Kieran being annoyingly perceptive. Martin is beginning to think having a best mate is more trouble than it's worth. Kieran is lucky Martin loves him because in the end, having Kieran around is more beneficial than it is a nuisance.

Once a time for drop off is agreed upon, the two part ways. Martin only has two days to come up with an outfit that's acceptable for a night out but also doesn't scream 'I'm trying to show off in front of all your friends', which is a struggle. Considering his closet is filled with basic t-shirts and designer jackets with no real in-between, he'll have to head out after training and buy something.

The only issue is Martin has no clue what's what when it comes to fashion. Kieran at least has some sort of idea of what's trendy and looks good…

Martin sighs and heads back over to Kieran, "Mate, are you free tonight to help me shop?"

"Shop for what?" Kieran feigns innocence as he finishes up his set of curls. "Food? Because I'd think you pay someone to do that for you. At least that's what most of us lads do!"

"Don't make this hard for me, you know what I mean Kieran." Forcing Martin to voice things he isn't ready to is like pulling teeth. Not only is he reluctant to do so, but it's also incredibly painful and Martin would prefer to keep it to himself. And for some reason, Martin feels oddly protective over you, as if letting Kieran know it's you he's going on a pseudo-date with will allow Kieran to sweep you out from under him. For now, Martin feels safer with a cloak of mystery to protect him.

Kieran clears his throat and drags Martin into the present. "Right, sorry mate. I'm free and I'd be happy to help you shop for something to wear- you'll have to give me some details though? What sort of place you're going to, as a bare minimum. I can't have you showing up to a steakhouse in Dunks, you know?"

Martin nods. That much he is comfortable sharing. "It's just a club, so nothing fancy. I just don't normally do casual? So I only have really casual, and I don't think that's appropriate. I'd like to impress the people that are gonna be there."

Kieran nods, thinking for a minute. The grin that lights up Kieran's face has Martin's head racing with thoughts of what the Scotsman might be up to.

"I know just the place, mate. Bring your credit cards cause it's gonna be expensive!"

**********

"Babe! What did I tell you?! Don't get involved with him- and you just straight up went against everything I said!"

"I know I did Jen!" Your pacing is nearly wearing holes in the circular orange carpet in the center of her room. You've walked the perimeter of your self-imposed prison cell at least a dozen times in the past ten minutes whilst enduring a well-deserved lecture from your friend. "Look, why can't I be friends with him? There's no rule against that in the ethics handbook is there? I'm just fostering positive relationships between myself and the parents of my students!"

"Oh, that reads like a textbook. Babes, you know why you can't do that. You'll catch feelings! Hell, you caught feelings for that writer at the Starbucks down the street for your flat and you never spoke a single word to him. You think you can be friends with Martin 'I'm the best looking single dad ever' Ødegaard and not feel a thing?"

Was it a foolish decision to invite Martin to your birthday gathering? Obviously. It isn't your fault that he's too damn charming and irresistible. You hadn't expected Jen to be over the moon with your idea, but you had crossed your fingers in hopes of her supporting you.

"Okay, maybe I made a mistake-"

"You think?!"

"-but realistically what's the worst that could happen? Technically Attie isn't my student, so there's nothing that says Mar and I can't be involved."

Jen rakes a hand through her hair, her blue highlighter leaving a streak behind. "I mean technically you'd be fine, but if the other parents found out, who knows what they'd do? The entire school is filled with Mum's constantly lusting over that man- all it takes is one of them getting a touch too jealous and spreading some terrible rumor for things to go ass over tits."

You hate it when Jen is right. The fantasy you cooked up in your head is much more favorable than the reality she's just whacked you upside the head with. You deflate, finally ceasing your feet long enough to sit cross legged on the carpet.

"Look Jen, I don't even think he's interested in me like that anyway. He's got this trauma, I can see it in his eyes- he just feels… broken hearted. I think he needs a friend to lean on, someone outside of Arsenal. Like a new perspective, you know? Maybe I can be that for him."

At this point, you're grasping at straws to invent a reason why this is a semi-acceptable idea. In truth you're being selfish, wanting to see if you can sus out how Martin feels beneath that steely armor he wears. You can chalk it up to your teachers instincts; seeing people struggling silently isn't something you can sit by and tolerate without trying to help. You don't have it in you to watch Martin continue to come in and paint on a happy face for his daughter when you've noticed flashes of something much more troubled beneath the surface.

"For the record, I hate this idea."

"I know you do, Jen. But you going along with it is exactly why I love you." You hold up one finger, pleading with your eyes for her to hear you out. "One outing, that's all I ask. You'll be there the entire time to keep me in check, totally supervised and everything."

Jen shakes her head, taking her time in answering to ensure her discontent is well noted. "I'm only doing this because I love you. One outing- and I'm not letting you drink until he's gone. You get all touchy when you have tequila and I know that's what you'll wind up having."

You break into a cheek-splitting grin that is impossible to hide even if you wanted to, "that's a deal. Have I told you I love you?"

"Not nearly as often as you should, considering how much I risk for you on a daily basis. Now go home and pick out an outfit, let me grade in peace."

"Trust me, I've got just the thing in mind."

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fantasy #arsenal fc #footballer fic #footballer fanfiction #footballer fluff #footballer imagine #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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skiiyoomin · 8 months

Note

I was wondering if you could write a saiki & reader oneshot fic with a reader who has DID & C-PTSD and paranoid tendencies? I understand that that might be a bit too hard to write but just in case I got some recorces that might be handy, here is the link to DID listing from my own copy of the newest version of the DSM https://www.dropbox.com/sh/htaraej65e34tg9/AADBATmelRQFUBfTMxaJ3W6wa?dl=0 as well as this website that has a lot of good info on it https://did-research.org/ and this page I found that has a brief overview of C-PTSD https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/24881-cptsd-complex-ptsd but I also recommend quickly reading thru the different types of flashbacks (shouldn't be that hard to find info on)

The main idea is that because of the mix dissociation,switching,paranoia, different types of flashbacks etc that the readers thoughts are very fucking confusing to saiki (feel free to use this premise for any kind of plot you want just try not to make it overly angsty is all I ask, well as un-angsty as you can get with C-PTSD anyways lol) I just wanna see more y/n / reader inserts that I can actually relate to but the saiki K fandom is so small

Can be platonic or romantic

Hi!! So sorry for the late reply, I researched as much as I could so if theres anything remotely wrong or different please tell me! Ngl, im not very sure i like how it turned out, nevertheless I hope you enjoy :))

Also i totally get that its hard finding stuff for saiki k which is the reason why i write for it in the first place, they totally deserve more recognition!! Feel free to send more requests in the future!!

warnings: somewhat angsty but not really, i tried to be as vague as possible so as not to trigger anyone, reader suffers from trauma, DID, CPTSD, swearing, fluffy ending? slightly oc saiki

RULES !!

DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK PLEASE

REQUESTS: OPEN

NAVIGATION

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

summary: Saiki was used to listening to many types of thoughts, and at one point, nothing he heard surprised him. However when you came around, he was beyond confused. What sparks as a little curiosity might turn into something more.

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No matter what | Kusuo Saiki

He was used to it, or at least that's what he used to tell himself. Throughout the years he had heard all sorts of thoughts, at one point, he learned to tune them out when need be, having listened in on weird enough ideas that now don't surprise him anymore.

When you came in the picture, he was...baffled, to say the least. Confusing wasn't even close of a word to express how he felt. Your thought process was anything but simple. At times it'd be a fuzzy mess almost as if you lost part of your memory, other times, you'd think as if you were a completely different person, contradicting many of your previous thoughts. But what disturbed him most was the series of traumatic thoughts that would cross your mind. Flashbacks he realized in that moment.

In the beginning he felt annoyed, as per usual. Often times, he'd find you in class with a dazed expression, which to be frank, he had seen enough times to not give it a second thought. But then his attention would be caught when your mind would wander and you'd start thinking in a very unusual way. They were so unlike the person you presented to be, so much so that Saiki was left perplexed and in need to understand exactly what was going on.

The more it happened the more worried he'd be. There were days where you acted a certain way, and other days where you acted completely different. He could tell you weren't being fake trying to act differently for attention, after all, your thoughts lined up with the you acted and the things you said. Rather, it was the abrupt changes in your behaviour that had him thinking for far longer than he normally would.

Along the way, he also picked up how you'd flinch if you were in sudden physical contact, the way your shoulders would tense and the way your heart beat would speed up. Saiki wasn't stupid of course, he was aware that all of this was caused by some form of trauma.

He knew not to pry, yet his heart strings pulled everytime he saw you having a bad moment. So he began to follow you, in disguise of course, and even if he seemed like a stalker, he couldn't help it. Eventually he began to connect the dots, your reactions, behaviors, everything. It made sense now.

Unconciously, his words began to soften around you, his touch became gentler, he looked out for you in ways he had never done so with others. You began to notice but in no way did you mind, if anything, Saiki was someone you took great comfort in. What started of small slowly grew into something neither of you expected.

Of course, that didn't make it any less hard for either of you. Like right now. You were laying in Saikis bed, your head resting on his shoulder as you watched a movie, when suddenly a specific scene had triggered an anxiety attack. Your mind was racing through flashbacks of the many disturbing events you had gone through. Saiki was up almost immediately, having read your mind and sensed your reaction.

His touch was soft, his hands cupping your face so gently you'd think he was scared to break you, which he was. He was in no way someone who could comfort others easily. Nevertheless he tried his best. He attempted to lower your heart rate, rubbing small circles against your back as his other hand held the back of your head. No words were needed, they never were. He had, in a way, been there for you, way before you two even became a thing, so none of this was a surprise for either of you.

That didn't ease the guilt in your heart any less. You always felt bad. You knew Saiki could read you, literally. And well, it wasn't pretty. Countless times you had attempted to push him away, yet he never budged.

"'m sorry" you mumbled against his shoulder as your rested your head on it.

He cupped your face in his hands, pulling you to look at him.

`I won't let you push me away. The things you went through won't make me see you any differently, because to me you'll still be someone I cherish'

Your eyes welled up as you looked him deep in the eyes, finding nothing but love for you. Still cupping your face, he ran his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

'I love you'

"No matter what?"

`No matter what'

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songmingisthighs · 2 years

Text

Algedonic

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

<< previous | masterlist | next >>

ch. ix - T O R T U R E

soulmate!yunho × reader

fated and marked, soulmates are supposed to be your destiny. you are connected to him by his heart and him to yours. but despite the cosmic or even divine intervention, you felt that he is not wholly yours. why is destiny so cruel to you?

It didn't come as a surprise when you saw Yunho in your apartment. When you opened your door and walked inside your apartment, you felt a headache coming as you saw his shoes tucked neatly under the slightly elevated floor of your apartment that bordered the inside and the entryway.

You let out a long sigh as you took your shoes off, mentally preparing yourself to deal with Yunho. To be truthful, you're slightly pissed at him for being such a... guy. You asked for time just for yourself and the first thing he did was to barge in, trying to save things. Where was this response before?

Hearing the soft pitter-patter of your feet, Yunho looked up from the dining table he had been glaring at for the past hour. A small smile bloomed on his face when he saw you coming into view. But it faded as quickly as it appeared when you completely ignored his presence and went straight to the fridge.

"Hi baby," Yunho called, hoping that you'd acknowledged him. Your shoulder tensed slightly at his voice. You kept ignoring him, reaching for your favourite mug before moving to reach for the fridge door's handle and pulling it open to pour yourself some cold water.

At your complete silence, Yunho furrowed his eyebrows, "are you still ignoring me?" he asked. Though he cringed slightly at his own stupid question.

No answer.

Yunho groaned lowly in frustration. Rather than at you, he was more frustrated at himself. "Come on (y/n), please talk to me," he exhaled sharply, "How can we overcome this issue when we can't even communicate properly?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

Almost cutting him off, you slammed your mug down so hard that it surprised you that the mug hadn't broken. Your body turned to face him and you glared at him with so much mixed emotion that it actually scared Yunho. Never had he been given such a look by anyone and he never expected that he'd got it from the one person that was always smiling.

"For fuck's sake Yunho, you disregard my request to have some time for myself, coming here demanding an answer, the least you can fucking do is let me drink some water in peace before losing my sanity once again," you spat at him.

From the way you looked at him and at that exact moment, he felt chills run down his spine. You were never one to be angry and for him to succeed in making you blow up within the first 5 minutes of interaction is a whole new accomplishment. When your words were being processed in his brain, he finally realized how fucked up his actions has been.

Pouring yourself another glass of water, you were simultaneously trying to calm yourself down no matter how hard it was. It actually hurt your head to be angry and you could've sworn that your heart felt like it clenched. You had to grip your mug a little tighter to ground yourself because for a moment, you really do felt like you were not who you are.

Even in a state of anger, you still feel guilty for blowing up at Yunho. Not that he didn't deserve it and more. After pouring the water and placing the water bottle back into the fridge, you sneakily reach for your soulmate mark and held onto it. The moment you touched it, you could feel Yunho's heart beating rapidly, a feeling like something was bubbling up in your stomach that was a mirror of his feelings, and you felt his confusion. He was anxious.

Knowing how you made him feel made you guilty for a second.

Just a second.

Then your thoughts travelled to the fact that he had probably never once checked up on how YOU are when he was ditching you for Somi. Or when he let her post pictures of them together like as if they were the couple and you're the third person. You believe- no, you KNOW that he never thought to check in on you when he "bragged" about how much time he spent on Somi. That did it, that completely absolved you from any and all guilt from blowing up on him.

You soon turn and head for the chair right across Yunho.

Once you settled in your seat, Yunho visibly straightened up. You recognized this as Business Yunho, the Yunho you usually only see during the odd times he had to receive a call outside the office. This is serious Yunho, the Yunho who want something.

Learning from his mistake, he waited for you to start first. You had to acknowledge his quick adaptation skills for that. But you took your time. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and stared at him with a blank expression.

You'd think that he'd be nervous or even scared. Heck, you could feel that he's nervous and scared. But he didn't let it show on his expression. It would appear that the years he spent working in corporate allowed him to perfect his poker face.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity (literally 3 minutes), you opened your mouth. "What do you want?" You asked him.

Yunho's shoulders dropped slightly, showing that he was glad that he could finally talk. "You, baby. I don't understand what you meant by needing time," he said. You shrugged at him, "It literally means as is. I need time for myself to think things," you said almost casually. Both of Yunho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What things exactly? Us? You really think soulmates are that easily breakable?" He asked. This time, your eyebrows showed reaction as one of them rose challengingly, "You really think soulmates are the endgame?" you almost scoffed at him in disbelief.

"Of course, we are the endgame, (y/n). Fate wants us together because they've seen us together, they know WAY more than us," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. God, you almost cracked from how he looked like a kicked up puppy. But thankfully, you had better self-control. The corner of your nose twitched slightly in annoyance when he brought up fate, "And what does fate know, Yunho? If fate knows EVERYTHING, then why did it pair me with someone who is still hung up on his ex?" you retorted.

It wasn't intentional, but Yunho let out a loud grunt, showing complete disagreement with your accusation. "I am NOT hung up on Somi, (y/n), you HAVE to believe me!" he said in an exasperated tone as if he was tired from having to defend himself. You squinted your eyes at him, "Just like how I HAVE to stay with you just because we're soulmates?" you pettily ask him.

At that, Yunho felt like he had been punched in the gut. "What?" He asked, voice slightly quivering. "So you're really thinking of cutting our soulmate bond? You're really thinking of severing and then acting like our relationship never exist in the first place?"

In all honesty, you never meant to be so harsh with him. Despite thinking about the nerve he has for sounding so hurt, you made a mental note to calm yourself down even more.

"Come on, Yunho," you sighed before continuing, "There was barely any relationship between us other than being soulmates. You were doing your duty because you thought you had to and I get it." "No? Who said that? I really love you, (y/n)," Yunho defended, his body pressed close to the table as if to get closer to you.

"I never said you didn't love me, Yunho. I believe you do. You're... you," you chuckled albeit rather bitterly. Yunho furrowed his eyebrows again, "And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked. "Well," you paused to rest your arms on the table, "You wear your heart on your sleeves, you care about people, and you love things so easy. That's you and that's the qualities that I love so much about you."

Yunho almost smiled at that, not realizing that you weren't done with your words.

"But," you sighed out, almost like it pained you to say. "That's also your downfall Yunho, you can't let go of the things that you're already attached to and I get it, okay? I get it so much. I get that you care so much about things and other people to the point that you're willing to sacrifice yourself. But why did you have to sacrifice me too?" Your voice lowered with each word.

Despite being softly spoken, the last sentence was like a harsh slap combined with a sucker punch to his face. He never thought that you felt like he was sacrificing you. He never thought that he had neglected you so much in favour of someone else that you thought he was still romantically attached to the girl he formerly fell for.

All of his romantic love has been directed to you, he swore. Never had he felt more connected with someone as much as when he is with you. You are the person who knows him best and he felt safe with you. You are the love of his life despite what it might seem. Had he been showing his love for you THAT badly?

The lack of response from Yunho wasn't interpreted badly by you. You see how his pupils shook slightly and if you focus hard enough, you can see the wheels turning in his head.

Figuring that Yunho might need time to process his own thoughts, you took it as your cue to end the discussion. "You should go home, Yunho. Sleep this off. I need the rest too and God forbid this discussion to implode even more and one of us said something we don't really mean," you sighed as you stood up.

Panic struck Yunho when he saw you walking to your room. He can't let you sleep thinking that you're not worth much to him. "I- I- I'm really gonna fight for us," he blurted out.

Your steps halted at his sudden declaration.

Seeing you stopped your tracks, Yunho took this as his cue to continue. "I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?" he said. All he wanted to do at that moment was to run to you and hug you, kiss you, shower you with all the emotion he has. But he realized that it would be selfish to do what he want to you when things are as such.

"I'm gonna be better, I promise," Yunho said with much confidence.

You wanted to applaud him for that. No one has as much confidence as Yunho. Well, in a romantic and proving oneself aspect. Beomgyu and his friend, Yeonjun are actually the two people who you believe have the most confidence compared to any other people in the world.

Not really confident in him, you sighed and shook your head slightly as if to shake the ridiculousness off.

"Don't make promises so lightly Yunho. You're giving me hope and it's going to crush me, even more, when you fail."

As you retreated into your room, Yunho sat in silence alone. His mind kept replaying the fact that you said 'when' and not 'if'.

Though, he can't really blame you for having so little trust in him. After all, it was he who tore pieces of your trust slowly with his bare hands.

taglist :

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heartstopper-writes · 8 months

Text

Main: @goldenretriever-nicknelson

Note: um so hi! I’ve never wrote for heartstopper before but I can’t seem to get it or Nick and Charlie out of my head so I thought I’d give it a go! Please be gentle with me I haven’t wrote anything in so long. I’m sorry if it’s terrible haha.

Word count: 1.5k

Pairing: Nick and Charlie

(also ft Tao, Elle, Tara, Darcy, Imogen, Tori and Issac)

Summary: Nick and Charlie with their first child in the future, that’s all. Fluff ensues. Imogen is their surrogate bc why not.

••••••••••••

“Nick, we are not naming our child after a marvel character!”

“What? Why not?”

The famous Nelson puppy dog eyes stared at Charlie who sighed with an amused smile. Nick’s face inched closer to his husbands, his head flopping onto Charlie’s shoulder.

“Because,” Charlie sighed, running his fingers through Nick’s hair and kissing his head. “I don’t want to name our child Stark. That’s not fair to anyone.”

Nick laughed, the smile lingering on his lips as he looked at Charlie scroll through yet another baby name website.

Our child.

It was surreal to Nick that he was going to be a father. Even after 8 and a half months of expecting it.

Last year after babysitting Tara and Darcy’s 1 year old, Charlie and Nick had mutually fallen in love with the idea of children of their own, many pictures of the other holding the baby and playing with him saved on their phone.

They had decided to go through the surrogacy route, wanting to be a part of every step of the process but it turned out a lot harder than they had expected. Every person that came along didn’t seem quite right and there was one woman who was even passively aggressively homophobic. Needless to say she was told where to go.

“What if I did it? What if I was yours and Charlie’s surrogate?”

Nick looked up at one of his long time friends from school, sitting across from him in the coffee shop where he had been going on about his problems. A smile lifted onto his lips before promptly falling.

“Imogen that’s- it’s a big ask to take on. Are you sure you’d be okay with it?”

Imogen took a sip of her frappe and smiled widely, coming to sit next to Nick on the booth seat.

“Nicolas! Of course I would! I would be honored. I am an ally after all.” She gave a wink before Nick wrapped her up in a tight hug, a laugh mixed with amusement and relief escaping him.

“I’ll have to talk to Char but thank you! You’re amazing!”

Nick felt his eyes well up with tears out of pure happiness, this could finally be it.

And it was.

Charlie was fully on board, thanking Imogen with a bouquet of flowers as Nick triple checked she was definitely okay with it.

She nodded and so their journey began.

Sometimes Charlie and Nick felt guilty because pregnancy had taken its toll on Imogen and most people around her but she assured them she was fine and that it was all going to be worth it.

Imogen had never been more right.

Nick woke up to his phone ringing at 2 o’clock in the morning. He knew the sound was different to his alarm but he attempted to press snooze anyway. He must have pressed the green button because a small, panicked voice came out of the speaker.

“Nick?!”

“Mhm?” Nick mumbled, still half asleep and jealous of the way his husband was still snoring on his chest.

“It’s happening.”

“Wha-?” His brain quickly caught on to what was happening and realized it was Imogen on the phone. “You mean-?!”

“Yes you idiot! The baby’s coming!” Imogen’s shouting was followed by a large groan of pain.

“We’re on our way!”

Nick shook Charlie awake, the panic and excitement starting to set in. “Char!”

“5 more minutes.” Charlie mumbled, burying his head into Nick who insisted on getting up which he never usually did. “Wha’s happening?”

“We’re gonna be dads!” Nick untangled himself as he got up and started putting his clothes on hurriedly.

Charlie’s heart pounded as he realized what was going on. He sprung out of bed and started getting dressed, in an even more panicked state than Nick was.

Before they got in the car Nick wrapped his arms around a stressed Charlie and kissed his cheek. They both instantly felt more calm. “Char, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna meet our baby today.”

Nick’s smile and touch calmed Charlie’s nervous rambles, taking a moment to breathe and cherish his husband before getting in the car and driving to the hospital where they had arranged to meet Imogen.

The next few hours passed by in a blur of nurses, doctors, screaming and Charlie nervously pacing and rambling. Nick however felt strangely calm like this is what he had been waiting for all of his life. Similar to how he had felt on their wedding day.

They were in there whilst Imogen gave birth, she almost ended up knocking Charlie out on accident and squeezed Nick’s hand so hard that he was sure his wedding ring had somehow pierced through his finger.

And then there she was. Their perfect little baby, crying at the top of her lungs and being wrapped in a small blanket once she was all clean. Imogen flopped back onto the hospital bed and sighed, a tired smile on her face as the doctor handed the baby to Charlie.

“Oh,” Charlie almost looked shocked that he was the first one to hold her but as soon as his eyes saw her there was nothing but pure love and adoration. “Hi.”

Nick wrapped his arms around Charlie and looked down at his daughter. His heart soared as he saw her, tiny and perfect.

“Hi.”

They couldn’t take their eyes off of her or each other. Their perfect little family. Nick wiped away Charlie’s tears, letting his own fall down his cheeks onto Charlie’s shoulder before he was passed their daughter by his husband.

“I think someone wants to say hi to her dada.” And at that moment she opened her eyes, staring straight at Nick who gasped at the sight of her.

“You’re beautiful. I think she’s going to have your hair.” Nick smiled, laughing with his husband as Charlie shook his head.

Even though they had mixed their sperm together so neither could be sure who was the biological father, Nick hoped it was Charlie.

“You’re just saying that because you like my hair.”

Nick laughed and nodded, gently placing a kiss on the tiny baby’s forehead. “I love her already.”

Charlie stroked her cheek with his finger and nodded in agreement. “Me too. I love our family.”

Nick was the first to fall asleep with the baby in his arms on the hospital armchair as Charlie took a quick picture on his phone. He admired his husband and his daughter, thinking of how amazing his life was now and never wanting this moment or feeling to fade away.

He kissed Nick’s head before hearing a tiny knock on the door. Tao peeked in quietly with a large assortment of balloons and behind him Charlie could see Elle, Issac and Tori trying to edge their way in to have a look at the new arrival.

“Can we come in?”

Charlie nodded with a finger against his lips, urging them to be as quiet as they can. Tao nodded and tiptoed his way in before bumping loudly into one of the chairs, waking Nick and the baby up.

Elle smacked Tao on the arm and apologised to Charlie and Nick before coming closer to get a look at the baby.

“Oh my gosh! She’s gorgeous!”

Nick smiled sleepily, greeting the rest of his friends as he gently rocked the baby in his arms.

No matter what he tried she wouldn’t calm down, the chatter in the room of visitors talking to Imogen and the new parents didn’t help. Elle offered to take her and Nick nodded, smiling gratefully.

In an instant the baby had calmed down in Elle’s arms. Nick looked at her bewildered.

“Okay you have to teach me how to do that.”

Elle laughed and smiled, patting Nick on the shoulder before going to show her expert baby skills to Tao.

“So has this little one got a name?” Issac asked after having his turn of holding the baby in his arms. She was now with Charlie who was attempting to feed her with Nick at his side. They shared a look of agreement and smiled.

“Alice Tori Nelson-Spring.”

Tori looked up from her coffee she had grabbed from the cafe and stared at her brother and husband. They both smiled at her, letting her know that it was indeed what she was thinking.

“You’ve always been there for me, Tori. I wanted Alice to know that her auntie would always be there for her too and without you I don’t know if I’d be here.” Charlie cleared his throat as his eyes welled up with tears before Tori could cross the room and hug him, something she rarely did to anyone besides Charlie.

She nodded in thank you and smiled to both of them before everyone else cooed at the sweet moment.

“Oh shut it.” Tori turned and glared at the others in the room but the pink on her cheeks and emotion in her eyes let them know she wasn’t all that serious.

“And of course her amazing aunts and uncles.” Nick smiled to the rest of the group who all smiled back and piled in for a group hug, careful of Alice in between them. Even Tori joined in.

It would be a busy time what with visitors including Tara and Darcy and grandparents to meet so Nick and Charlie cherished this moment with their friends who had been with them through it all.

They smiled at each other after the hug ended and shared a kiss, surrounded by the rest of their perfect family.

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it and would like more of my writing!

#heartstopper fanfic #narlie fanfic #nick x charlie #heartstopper #fanfic #Nick Nelson #Charlie spring #Tao xu #elle argent #heartstopper fanfiction #Nick and Charlie fanfiction

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manonamora-if · 1 year

Text

Post-comp-mortem

I was debating on whether to publish this post before or after the voting ended. I was wondering if it would influence the player's opinion of the game too much/at all. Even after seeing a few popping up on the Forum, I still felt a bit weird about releasing mine. I was also hoping to get a few more reviews/comments as well :P

If you haven't checked the IF Comp entries this year, I really recommend it!

This post will be hella long too. I am not kidding here, don't click Keep Reading/scroll further if you don't have a drink and are seated, it is almost a novella below. Also, it is a mix of very dry summary/emotional reaction. Like my entry, it might look like a mess. There is a TLDR on the Forum.

Table of Content:

1- Some Points about creation and process 2- So, did I manage to do what I wanted? 3- And what was the verdict? _ _ a. The Reviews _ _ b. Result and Further comments 4- What's the future for TTTT? 5- Some fun tit bits... 6- In Conclusion,

For people who don't follow me here (or only started following me recently), I've only been in the IF Community for about a year and a half by now, with my first game (Meeting the Parents) published in early June 2021. I have only created things with Twine (and mainly on SugarCube) and had not had any coding knowledge before starting my own project.

I- Some points about creation and process.

The Thick Table Tavern was actually conceptualised back in 2021, when I wanted to dip my toes into a bigger competition after completing Exquisite Cadaver. Since I had created MtP and EC (and the first part of CRWL) pretty quickly, I thought the two months ahead of me would be plenty enough to create a whole new game and submit it.

I've always loved Fantasy settings and RPGs, but often wondered why there were very little games centred around less heroic occupations or what would be the life of an NPC, like a bartender in a tavern (probably because it might be pretty boring). I also have very fond memories of those Flash games where you would build meals/drinks (RIP Flash).

I knew from the get-go that two components where going to be central to the game: the drink mixing aspect and your interactions with the NPCs. Instead of having random customers dropping in, I thought of 5 fleshed-out NPCs which would come, talk a bit with you about their story and order drinks. You might have been able to influence them a bit. But that would be it. Above all, I wanted a chill and light vibe, with Trope-y characters (ex: a coward but flirty bard, a pirate always in trouble, etc). I wanted people to relax and have some light fun, and enjoy themselves.

I worked on the project for about 2 weeks, having submitted my intent, started testing some code for the bartending side and written the introduction of the game and 2 characters (give or take 3k words).

Then I kind of... burned out.

Fast forward this summer, and I am back working on the project. Granted, I was not fully into the game at that point, since I was working on the re-writes of EC at the same time too. But I had sketched out the UI and was thinking about the code during writing EC. And I was talking my friends ears off about it too. What I knew for sure, is that the Bartending experience would be the core gameplay/interactivity of the game, with the story wrapped around it (giving you a reason to mix drinks).

Here are some pictures of my very pretty handwriting about the UI and how the story/bartending should be formatted/coded.

Throughout July, I would take breaks from writing EC to set up the UI for this game (or create a SugarCube template because I have not self-control), learn more about grids, flex boxes and class hierarchy. [No joke, I learned A LOT about CSS/HTML with this game!]

August came around and my other projects were put on hold so I could focus on TTTT (I still did other stuffs, because again, no self-control). I probably didn't start writing until the last third of August, as I researched drinks recipe (I still have a form for future drinks addition, you can add your favourite), made lil' bottles and set the bar. Even then, the amount written was pretty marginal compared to September.

September was wild. I wrote about 45k words total during that month, averaging 2.5k/days by the latter half of the month. Not all that I wrote ended up being included in the entry, as I had to cut some NPCs since I didn't feel they were ready (which included a travelling salesman monk). Being oh so lucky, I caught Covid just as the last week of the comp started. And since I hate following my/sound advice, I kept writing and coding through that and insomnia until the last hours of the deadline. This was obviously reeeeaaaaallly dumb, it made me super exhausted after the whole thing, but I still pushed myself and even with the whole hazy brain I managed to submit the game with... a bunch of bugs (and a lot more typos). In retrospect, that should have been my sign to pause the project and submit next year.

All and all, I don't think I spent more than 3 months on the game, during which half of that time was being shared with other projects (old and new ones). Still, my goal was to submit a working game... and to rank in the top-half of the ranking overall.

II- So, did I manage to do what I wanted?

Short answer: definitely not. But I gave it my best shot...

Long answer: I managed to do more than I thought I would, especially as the deadline crept closer. My plan from the beginning (of this year's try, not the original beginning) was to build the game in 3 stages:

The basic create/serve drinks with no interaction with customers.

The NPCs you only meet once and appear randomly, with choices that have little repercussion on that NPC and story overall.

The Big NPCs who come back multiple times (4/5 times, depending on their story) with choices that impact both the player and the NPC. And you build a bit of relationship with those.

The first stage took a while mainly because I had to create a whole bar from scratch. I could have chosen to stick with a simple design/asset for the bottles (like the one you could see in my first attempts of the bar), but damn, this is the IF Comp, not some basic Jam... Go big or go home! While I didn't struggle too much with the mixing part, it was the serving/check the ingredients and optimisation of the code that gave me a few headaches. {And still does...}

The second step was thwarted almost as soon as I started, when I realised TTTT needed a lot more fluff parts to link each game block (morning, between drinks, end of day) to make the experience smoother. Like the randomness of the drinks I didn't want players becoming bored with starting/ending each days. So there's a lot there that took priority for a while. __Still, I managed to include some NPCs. Out of the 11-ish NPC ideas I had, one was fully included (the oldie couple), one was a re-hash of the last year's version of the Adventurer (Dylan), and one was added last minute out of frustration (the 4th Wall break). The Fortune Teller doesn't really count in my book, as she was always part of the Introduction (and written almost completely last year).

And the last one... *throw hands in the air*

I knew it was going to be very hard to include this one, especially since it required a bit more planning for the day (and work around the randomisation) and having to take into account the different variations. Not being able to include this one ended up not bothering me as much as I thought it would be. I get to keep it for an after-comp update... :D

What I manage to include which was not planned was, like I mentioned, the random linking bits and the long-form Endings. None of them were really interactive (nor had much choice aside from knocking the sign or setting the tip jar), and may have thrown the player off when everything gets randomised by Day 2. There is only the Setting Up/Cleaning the Tavern where you can get the same/similar enough text.

Ezabell and Brom were also not planned at all. In last's year's version, out of the tavern's employees, you'd only interact with your Boss (and Filessandro as one of the recurrent NPCs). I was really happy with Ez especially, and how much colour she brought to the tavern (and writing banter with her was so fun!). She was probably one of my favourite character to write (along with the Oldies).

There were also a lot more things I had to cut for time, whether it was writing or coding. This is a non-exhaustive list: the Tip Jar getting stolen event, The Watcher coming half-way through the game to check on your progress, having more options/choices when talking to people (patrons and employees), having an Ending Recap for the NPCs, having a choice at the End on whether to buy/pursue your original background choice...

So at the end, the agency stayed quite low (where most consequences happen when you create drinks). After the first day, there is very little new choices.

There were many things with the final version that made me frustrated, among others:

Misusing my time, forcing me to cut back on what I wanted to include, just because something new and shiny took over my brain (it's not new, I can have the attention of a toddler sometimes).

Definitely not realising early how much I was trying to include from the get go, in terms of words and code, and how much time I would need to manage it all (lol at me thinking the summer would be enough for this chunky of a game).

The Watcher and Fortune Teller's spiel heavily relied on the player having choices with consequences talking to the recurrent patrons (Step 3) and proposing activities/giving advice to the one-time NPCs (Step 2). Since 3 was scraped, and 2 was not finished... I ended up setting some mystery for pretty much nothing...

Not having a more rigorous proofreading period. A lot of what was written was done so very late into the process, and while I did use some proofreading programs, I should have taken more time to re-read my text, edit it more and correct it all. It is obvious where I put more effort/love... (yes, it's the Oldies)

Have beta testers a bit earlier to catch all the bugs I corrected on Day 1/2 of the voting period (that's related to the time management points above).

Not being able to have more NPC's during the day (adding 3-4 one-timers to the game more would have been great!)

Not having time to include music :(

Getting Covid... (not that I could do much about that :P)

I could have chosen to fix a lot of those issues/add more content half-way through the Comp, but it felt a bit like cheating... And honestly, I was too tired after that.

Still, there are many things I am very proud of achieving:

Actually submit an entry to the Comp (even with the bugs/typos still there...) !

I created a completely new UI all by myself from scratch, which has completely different designs depending on which passage the player is in (Title page, Main Story, Bar, The Notebook/Frenzy List).

Have I talked everyone's ears off about the Bar yet? Definitely not. Because it is hella cool. I spend a lot (maybe too much time) on it, editing each bottle/box so they would feel distinct enough from each other. My first attempt last year was... a whole mess with list points... ew...

I started dabbling more with CSS animations (the menu button in the Main Story, the text shaking, the starting page, etc...), all of which required A LOT of tweaking to get right (and including an accessible option too).

Creating more complicated widgets and learning how to optimise my code (I managed to remove over 500 lines of TwineScript code at once...) which was a fun puzzle to be honest.

Adding very last-minute addition with the Arcade Mode and the Restocking (which taught me about messing with CSS classes at random), which I think was a pretty good addition.

Adding as much accessibility tools as I could (key binding, toggles for animation, text formatting, etc...).

Look at this Passage Map! There's a lot of text/code in those...

Finally... Not submitting the game with only the Bar mixing as the whole game. The mixing mechanic without any text would probably not have gone over well.

Overall, a lot of frustration but also a lot of pride (I definitely felt that last one mixed with anxiety when I pressed the Upload button the first time). I was really impressed with myself for being able to do this much in such short amount of time (considering everything).

Would the game have benefitted from a bit more time, attention and love? Definitely (especially, the writing). Do I regret submitting it like this? Not even one bit! There were a lot of new things I hadn't done before or even came across with my other projects until now. I've gone even deeper into Sugarcube, CSS and even some JavaScript (my nemesis)!

III- And what was the verdict?

Before going into the reviews/comments I got publicly/privately or the ranking/votes (apart from 3B, I wrote this post before the results), I won in the eyes of some important people (to me). Of course the ranking/votes matter to a certain extent, but I feel like I already had a little victory even before the reveal of the ranking. My biggest offline supporters, some of whom never played any IF before (nor knew it existed), absolutely adored the game, especially the bartending bits. My folks were so amazed about what I done (especially as their view of the gaming world was pretty... narrow/negative to say the least). And I was so happy they tried something they never done before too! I'm glad I got to introduce IF to new peeps :P

There was even a small contest with my family on who could get the most drinks done in the Timed Arcade Mode (the 38 cocktail highscore has yet to be broken)! Also, bless my sister for spamming her friends to play the games... They even sent her messages back about what they played and how cool IF is :)

A- The Reviews

[Again, this was written before the results] According to the Review Spreadsheet, I have gotten 13 reviews on the Forum/IFDB: 7 on the Forum (?), 5 on IFDB (9 ratings). This is about the average amount of reviews games got this year. I received a few more messages through Tumblr and Discord about my entry as well. (Note: one review disappeared from IFDB during the voting period)

First of all, I want to thank again every one of you who not only tried the game, left a vote, and for some of you even a review. Everyone who took their time to share what they thought of my little bartender simulation and to answer some question when they stumbled upon some bugs too.

Here are some cute titles of reviews I got: Innovative Bartending Simulator, A lengthy and somewhat heartwarming game about running a tavern, Bar game of my dreams, Lots to like with this one, Beautiful Gameplay, Fun Mixing Minigames...

A few reviewers "played the game" and included drink puns in their reviews, which I absolutely adored. One was really nice and pushed through their first impression of the game to give it a fair shot (I put a nauseating gif in the starting screen, which couldn't be turned off until the next passage...), when they didn't have to.

I should probably mention the elephant in the room before getting into the comments: out of the reviewers on the Forum, only one or two did not run into what we called the Groundhog Day bug (the Brom event repeating itself for no reason), while on Tumblr, only one person ran into it (and even then it was with only one of their playthrough) AS FAR AS I KNOW since I didn't get more reports. Sooo... that really sucked so see :/ Fun fact: Covid was kicking my ass while I was writing that event. Maybe it was a sign...

That bug was something I could not recreate for the life of me, nor did it appear on any savefile I was able to get my hands on (thank you again!). Unluckily for me too, this looked like it was a cache bug: yay for the code not being the culprit (Thanks Twine Discord), booo because this was something that could not really be fixed because it was not browser/extension specific (emptying the cache helped). This obviously/probably affected more people's rating of the game to no fault of my own nor theirs. Just bad luck. The only common denominator here seem to be the IFComp website. Maybe it was the source of the issue? But at the same time I didn't get anymore reports after that... I can't say for sure until I upload the game on itch and more people raise the same issue. Also it worked meh on tablets, my mom showed me... Impossible to click on the garnishes...

SO! I rounded all the comments I got from everywhere (save for the offline one, because they are more than bias and just said I was the best; they swore they were fair in the ratings tho) on a spreadsheet and made two columns: what worked and what didn't. I wanted to address the comments in a Post-Mortem rather than answering them on the Forum too much, partly to avoid writing in an emotional state. I will be paraphrasing below, since quite a few aspects were shared by multiple people. Overall, the reviews were quite positive, ranging from very neutral to overly positive.

The Bartending Mini-Game

Let's start with the Bartending Mixing-bit. From the reviews, it was a bit of a coin flipper. Some REALLY enjoyed the mixing aspect, and how relaxing and fun it felt; others found it too grind-y and monotonous. This is not surprising, game mechanics are very much a personal preference. Though having a randomiser during Frenzy giving you up to 9 drinks meant that someone could end up with making 20 drinks during one day... which is a lot considering the size of story.

The difficulty settings were not as challenging as it appeared, nor did it give any sense of progression in skills. While the latter was partly explained in the story (you've been a bartender for a while, you should know your stuff), it was mainly because I did not think about that at all (or how to implement it). Similarly with the Difficulty Settings, I thought the differences would be large/annoying enough between each of them, but it wasn't really [I did get some interesting ideas from the reviews tho!].

When it came to combining ingredients and serving drinks, some thought it was great fun, other felt some responses were missing. The random colours appearing can be confusing (it's just because it's fantasy ~magic~). And outside of serving drinks to named NPCs, you do not know whether you've done well when serving the drink until the end of the day (that'll be easily fixed with some notifications).

There was a little hitch with the UI, with the longer recipes requiring a bit of scrolling to find the last ingredients (I knew about that, and thought it would still be ok to be left as is, turns out not really :/ ) and some notifications not appearing (known issue with the macro used when clicking too much in a short span). Still the overall visual was really well received, and people really liked the names of drinks and how diverse they were (there were 29 when I submitted). I also forgot cherries were not berries... I should rename the pot Red Fruits instead later...

Shoutout to the Arcade Mode being a bit of an MVP here, making people compete for highscores! (And people sending me good points to make it more fun)

The Writing

This was where I lost a lot of peeps (and for fair reasons). The biggest gripe people had was related to the writing needed a lot more proofreading/edits, as it made reading distracting at best, confusing and boring at worst. This is not new to me, I've had comments about typos on other projects too (there's even a special section to report typos in my usual bug forms...), but it was worse here because of the time constraint (inflicted on myself, having written most of the game in September). Blaming it on English being my second language is not even fair, I could have asked other people to take a look at the text {Some users in the Forum do that!}. Honestly, compared to when I started or where I was even at the start of this year... I've progressed a lot (ahem... current version of MtP still online being a whole mess and a half). I still have a lot to learn and grow in my style, but I'm getting there!

Quite a few reviews advised to cut 25% of text in each passage, as the prose was either awkward, too long, threw the pacing off, or was unnecessary. Again, not really news to me. I am a very descriptive writer, I like to go on and on about small details. [Look at this review...] Still, while I will definitely edit the text (since it is necessary), I don't think the amount of text will be cut this drastically (I like my descriptions, thank you very much :P).

On the plus side, people enjoyed the snarky and humorous tone of the story, making for a fun experience overall. Yay for keeping a consistent funny tone :D

I've had lovely compliments about the dialogue, which is amazing, because it's a thing I struggle with the most (aside from proofreading, lol). It's so hard to be sure to have distinct voices between characters (and keep that up), have a good pace/back and forth between them, etc... I think working on the EC re-writes just before (which is 95% dialogue) helped me a lot there.

The Story

I've also had positive return on the story itself, as it was playful and chill. Some even found the story immersive with cute and fun storylets. Honestly, I tried to have fun while writing. Each tit bit was framed to bring a laugh or a smile in mind. This was the tone I wanted throughout the whole game anyway, and I am glad people vibed with it. Some also found the worldbuilding intriguing (I got quite a handful of asks about it after the release).

On the other hand, some found the story having nothing to say, with a lot of missed opportunity in the theme and concepts introduced leading to nothing or being brushed off quickly. A large part of it has to do with me cutting a lot of the story to make the deadline, removing a lot of choices (because variations would require more writing and time). The rest of it being just... life. The game's story is essentially a slice-of-life. Life doesn't always make sense and is often just random. There's not point to it.

Still the replayability of the game was noted, with the amount of randomisation of the fluff text. I made sure there was enough variation for players who needed the full 14 days to complete the game (sooo much writing 😭).

Another issue related to the pacing, was with the introductions. Because I did not just do one, I made two of them. It made sense in my head, since I was probably thinking wayyyy to ahead (with all the planned aspects of the game included) and thought it would be the best way to introduce, well, everything. But it made the first day needing more than 30min to complete (which is already 1/4 of the allocated voting play per game). The first intro felt very long and required a lot of clicking (or space-bar pressing with the keybinds). Both were very disjointed with the other. And fair... after the first day, it's pretty much thought of being a bad dream (even when you meet the 4th wall character).

With how the story was written, it left very little choice for the players to have (if you disregard choosing to serve a good drink or not), with most having little consequences on the story as a whole. The only thing driving your end result was either running into a bug (fixed) or getting the required amount of gold. This was not always noted positively. Again, understandable, I had to cut a lot more than planed to make the deadline, turning the MC's agency into a very minimal state. Still, some reviewers did not mind or realised how little choice you actually have (thank you Mixing section and Characters for the distraction!).

The Characters

My pride and joy. And also more positive comments there. Almost everyone had something nice to say about the characters, whether it was finding them overall quite fun or well-constructed. There were so many lovely adjectives used about the NPCs, I was so so so so happy people liked them as much as I did.

From the storylets, the Oldie Adventurers seemed to be everyone's favourite (they were mine as well) and the 4th Wall Character got a good laugh (yay for self-deprecating humour). Getting this kind of response was SO validating.

Aside from it, the tavern's employees/boss were also well received, even if they were quite the stereotypical kinds. Hey... If it works, it works!

Some found the camaraderie between the tavern peeps touching (which works even more if you get a "good" ending). A few notes were given on the confusing appearance of Brom, which is fair because depending on the randomisation of the text you'd get introduced to him as the cook or you'd just think he'd be a weirdo doing strange things in the tavern. Similarly, the characterisation of the boss felt confusing for some, going from incompetent hardass to loving "uncle" for no reason.

At least one point in this section should be taken for the character of the Watcher. A character you only see at the start and end of the story, does not have any impact on the game aside from introducing you and asking you how you liked your run. Understandably, it was a let down. I used the character a bit as an introduction of the character (I had more MC characterisation choices in mind), with the plan of commenting more on your choices in the ending... which doesn't really happen because there are very few choices to talk about. Still, I stand by my choice of keeping the Watcher. It gives it a bit of a mystical air you'd have in a fantasy setting :P My first idea with the Watcher was to make it a Dungeon Master and the player is a TTRPG character... but after writing it it felt way too weird, so I scrapped it.

The Interface

I don't think I've had anything but compliments about the UI and visuals of the games. From the Bar and its bottles, to the different pages, it was praised for the polish and care I gave the game. Considering I spent a lot of time on it, it was nice to hear about this. People found the interface welcoming and colourful. The UI was consistent throughout the game, and little was left to be desired. Someone even said it was the prettiest Twine game they had ever seen, while another found it having the most accomplished visual designed by pushing the rules of CSS this much.

😊

I've had good return about the accessibility points: especially the keybinding (you technically don't need a mouse to play the game), which is not often present in Choice-Based games, and the font options for ease of reading.

Aside from an obvious accessibility mistake I need to fix (the already mentioned nauseating intro gif), there was not much to add about it. It was crisp and high-production and definitely took too much time making it look the way it did.

OH: the Tarot Cards. Even if it amounted to nothing (because why would it... :P ), people liked the Tarot Cards :D

Miscellaneous Comments

Here is the part where I discuss comments I didn't know where to file.

The randomised encounters added to the bartending experience for some (since this is what would happen in real life...), but it also meant that some players did not get to see some characters. While the randomisation helped the replayability aspect, if the player did not enjoy the introduction it would have been unlikely they would press the restart button (I didn't put a fast play link for that...).

Similarly, some enjoyed the structure of each day, while others found the repetitiveness of the tasks boring. Like with the Mixing part, this might be more of a personal preference, it did not really seem to skew one way or another.

Having the Restoking event or the Tip Jar amounting to nothing was also disappointing (latter cut for time, the former only realised after I submitted the game -would need to re-edit the whole bar code to make it work as intended).

There were a few other frustrating bugs (the raised ones were taken care of as soon as I got them, but it included the gold not tracking properly, which always gave the player a bad ending), but with a game this large and complex (in the coding part), I am sure there are still some here and there. I am still dedicated to polish this game (see the final section) but some things will take a while to implement/write. The gold tracker was set one line too high on the code page.... sigh

A last point I wanted to address here was about TTTT not knowing what kind of game it wants to be. To me it is obviously clear, since I made it, but I think I now understand why players might feel that way (I didn't when the review dropped, it even made me a bit angry, even if the comment held some truth). The game starts with a mysterious character never seen until the end, and the mystery amounts to nothing as the player is left in the dark (pun). Then, we move to a more slice-of-life-y fantasy setting with a bartending sim. Then you serve a Fortune Teller that pushes the idea of agency, which goes nowhere because there are virtually no real choices in the game. Aside from getting little to no tips, the Bartending section does not change nor indicate how you are doing. Then you flip between light-hearted storylets and others with more dark undertone. Repeat until you reach an ending. When experienced that way, yeah... what's that game about? What does it want to do? What's the point of it? __Frankly, there's no point to the game, aside from chilling at a bar, making drinks and talk to people. Winning or losing does not mean life/death, you don't hurt anyone really (unless you make terrible drinks, but even then). It's about the vibe more than anything else. Relax and enjoy and mix some ingredients.

So, what, then?

While a very reductive and deprecating conclusion would be that my entry was all show and no substance, it would be misrepresenting a lot of positive aspects of the game. It is definitely very Show but the Substance is lacking in some part (duh, since I cut a lot) or need some extra care for it to reach what it should have been.

I kinda shot myself in the foot by focusing so much time/effort on making sure the bartending experience and UI was not only working fine but that it was visually pleasing, since it meant rushing through writing a whole game in such short amount of time. It might have given quite a few player too high of an expectation on what the game would be (though I tried to warn it in my blurb that it was more of a chill type of game). I was too ambitious with what I wanted to do with this game, especially more in the time frame. It happened in other Jams (for EC and SPS IH). Unfortunately, it didn't pay off here.

A huge saving grace, it seemed, was found in the characters (outside of the Watcher and maybe the Fortune Teller). Had they not be charming or interesting, TTTT would have done much worse than it did.

Overall, it worked for some people and not for others. Even if it didn't work for some, they were kind enough to leave me extensive reviews about what didn't work for them and what they would have done to enhance the gameplay (thk u 💚). And even when it worked, I got some lovely suggestions to make the game even better.

But how did I handle it all?

I did not, because I never do :P

With this edition of the IFComp being my first, it was honestly nerve-wracking. The IFComp is considered the SuperBowl/Olympics of IF and amazing pieces of IF have been released during the previous editions. Before I submitted mine, I knew a few other participants who had submitted before were planning on having an entry (and I really like their works). It was also going to be my first time getting reviews outside of essentially the "chill" Tumblr/Itch crowd. I had seen those long reviews on IFDB around Comp season and honestly it scared me a bit (even if everyone were so very lovely).

As the reviews were dropping in, I was wondering if maybe I should have forgone submitting (or even withdrawing), spent more time on the game (I really should have) and submitted at the SpringThing instead. My entry had nothing to say, it was just there, sipping on a cocktail and enjoying the vibes. This feeling got increasingly worse when I played other entries and compared my work to theirs (so many amazing ones).

My goal was to reach the top-half of the ranking (this year, the lowest ranking for half would have been 35?). Half-way through October, I was dead-sure that I wouldn't even reach that rank. Now that we are hours away from the Voting Deadline, I think it will be just fine. It won't be so good that I will reach top 10, but that reasonable starting goal will be doable. Though I might be a tad disappointed if I don't...

B- Results and Further Comments

It is now Sunday 20th. The results dropped yesterday... 37th out of 70. Honestly, I can't hide I was disappointed a tad. I was this close to reach my goal (by 2 spots). I think I am more disappointed I was so close to this goal and didn't reach it more than I didn't rank high.

For anyone interested (though I already posted it yesterday, this is a screenshot of how the voting went:

I was kinda surprised to see 1s and 2s in there. Though, sure if judges played during the first days, when I was still ironing out some bugs, it's understandable. There was even someone in the anonymous comments who encountered that Ground-hog Day bug (I wonder if they left a review, because I didn't receive anything about this one outside of the reviews/one ask on Tumblr). Someone else had ran into a strange bug with the Fortune teller has well (again never heard about this one either...). Of course, everyone has their metrics... but 1 is pretty much unplayable/doesn't belong in the Comp... and I don't know. It's not sitting right with me because TTTT doesn't feel like either? _ _ At the end, everyone has an opinion. If they really hated the experience, so be it. You can't please everyone... *shrug* Looking at the curve, I was a tinsy disappointed there were not 10s, it would have made the curve so much more satisfying to watch... I think my family's votes looked too much like spam as well (or they didn't fill in their form correctly), cause they ranted their score was not there after I sent them the result. Bless them, they tried.

Regarding the anonymous comments, there wasn't much that stood out that hadn't been spelt out for me in the reviews/direct feedback: UI great, story meh, atmosphere is nice, needs more proofreading/pruning of the text, bartending is fun/tedious (this is really a coin toss damn). My favourite comment: as-is it's borderline unreadable.

The most interesting comment I got out of it was whether my entry should be considered a point-and-click rather than interactive fiction. I think I understand where that reviewer is coming from: you lack interactivity/choice during the story bits, and that is compensated by the bar mini-game being, well, point to the bottle and click to serve. Still, I would love to discuss more about this with that reviewer (or anyone really). Is point-and-click IF?

So how did I handle that?

Meh. Again, disappointed. Can't lie about feelings. I thought I had done a better of a job than I did (according to the judging scores). Even looking at the reviews/feedback I had gotten on IFDB/Forum, I thought I had done better. My gut feeling half-way through the voting period was correct, after all (damn it! it always is...).

But having written 95% of this post just before the results dropped was surprisingly cathartic and brought a lot of perspective on the whole experience. It was obvious where my entry lacked and where it shined. At the end, you get a overall mediocre entry (as in of only moderate quality). It made sense for it to end up where it did. Like I said previously, I was over-ambitious, and that really didn't work in my favour, because I didn't have the stuff to back it up.

Sure it was disappointing to see my entry scoring so low/not be a favourite, but weirdly... it didn't last long? I checked the voting pattern, the anonymous feedback, talked with a few peeps, had some some food, a nice hot drink, and went back to business as usual.

Maybe it will hit me later...

Anyway, I'll just finish this part with saying that my family was more mad about the ranking than I was. Not because I didn't do better than I did, but because they couldn't believe other people didn't have the same opinion about the game than they did. Quote from my mom: This is the first time I've liked a game. That's one of my wins right there (that and the stickers we are getting :P).

IV- What's the future for TTTT?

Like I mentioned above, the reviews and interaction I had on Tumblr gave be a bunch of ideas/suggestions for the next step of this game. I don't know the timeline for the intended update or how I will update the game (in one go or in chunks - probably the latter) or how the code may need to change (it definitely will need some sort of overhaul). There is A LOT of work ahead of me.

So now, I have multiple To-Do lists: one created while I was working on TTTT before I submitted it and one after the Comp deadline. The first included ideas I would have while writing or coding and items that I could not include in the game because of time. The second were ideas I would get while getting returns/impressions, suggestions sent/in reviews, and stemming from discussions I've had with players. {Not every comment I've received in the reviews will make me change that particular aspect, but even those gave me ideas.}

Here's a non exhaustive list** of the first one:

Obviously adding the missing NPCs (both the one-timers and recurring ones).

Adding more choices while talking to those NPCs (eg: stopping them from doing something, giving unsolicited advice, etc...) and giving each of them an Ending.

More drinks! {would require a few new bottles and merging the Soda ones together}

Reloop the Restart to the Story Screen as a NewGame+ Function.

Adding Music for the ~ vibes ~

Creating an Achievement list and have more stats trackers.

Creating a Highscore page for the Arcade Mode.

More MC Customisation (as an option to do, it won't have any consequence/effect on the story, just for the lolz of it all).

Redesign the Menu to look more like a Bar Menu (and includes the name/link to the real drink).

Adding a Codex Page for NPC's encountered (maybe an achievement too).

More fluff text!

Adding the missing Events (Stolen Tip Jar/Knock on the sign combo among others)

Maybe try to scale it for mobile (v unlikely with the size of the bar)

And here's the non exhaustive list** of the second one:

Have a more detailed tutorial explaining the combined bottles and where to find/what to find in the Guarnish box.

The Restocking Mini-Game to include penalties (bottle not available until restock/next day), except on Easy Difficulty.

Re-work on the Difficulty Setting: make the Hard Time harder, Recipe not available on Hard (only in the Menu list), Hard Mode could have measurements instead of one click-bottle.

Adding a Setting for a fixed amount of drinks during Frenzy/Rush time.

The bottles in the Bar appear randomly (time/space).

Look into substitution of ingredients {the code would need to change drastically, depending on the recipes might not even be possible...}

Make the Umbrella do something (extra tips?)

Arcade Mode-TIMED: perfect drinks add time to the timer, really bad ones removes time.

Proofread and edit the text (obviously, but no cuts!).

Give a choice to play all 14 days (which will be fixed to 14 days when I introduce the Recurring NPCs)

After finding the Tip Jar, only give one choice: display or hide it, rather than leave the option to change your mind (that confused people)

Have something to do with the coins if you get too much (this started from a bug where the gold wasn't tracked properly)

**It's mainly non-exhaustive because I have a bunch of post-its with ideas and it's not organised yet. If you are reading this and thought of an interesting thing I could add to the game, do shoot me a message! I welcome it all!

V- Some fun tit bits...

Here are some random thing about the game/process that didn't make the cut in the novel above.

95% of the drinks are actual drinks, and as close to the recipe I could get them. I spent hours looking at recipes, and I even made a few while making the game.

Renaud's Nightmare is named after a disgusting concoction mentioned in Exquisite Cadaver (referencing my own work :P).

For a few weeks, I went back and forth between keeping the bar as is (one click on a bottle) or making it more like VA-11-HALL-4 (5 ingredients, different measurements). It was worse when I was fighting my code.

MelS (my writer for TTATEH) helped me name half of the drinks and of the characters (including NPCs not in the game currently). He also had to suffer through my various attempts at making the page look good (his go-to responses: I don't know what looks good or not, it's fine and both versions look good, why do I have to choose? You know this stuff better than me.).

I've been on a Terry Pratchett binge since May-ish, and it inspired the humour of TTTT to be a bit more over the top than I would have probably done otherwise. The Last Continent was one of the reasons I gave the MC an Australian accent.

All bottle ingredients had at least 2 versions: plain colours and the current 3D-looking version with shading and a cap/cork.

There are over 120 assets/images in this game, 3/4 of them being the glasses.

VI- In Conclusion

You've reached the end of this post. Thank you for playing reading! I hope you enjoyed the ride and I hope to see you again when progress on the new version finally starts. Like during the making of TTTT's Comp version, it will be well documented on this blog. In the meantime, you can find the game on itch now!

Thank you to everyone who played my entry, voted for it, left a review or a comment, and interacted with me on this long/short journey!

I don't think I'll participate next year tho... I am exhausted. Well... unless I get a good idea until then... I should try to make a smaller game this time...

#tttt #the thick table tavern #postmortem #ifcomp #ifcomp2022 #game dev #twine #twine game #retrospective #gosh I hope I don't sound whiny in this #I promise I am not bitter

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