#2 and 3 a bit less and 4 is the furthest

[nightfal1n]

1st division and 4th division are on the different end of a spectrum where the 1st focus on the individual strength, monster to fight monsters even if it mean to disregard of their own humanities while the 4th division will go out of their way to tell the soldier that they can't keep risking their life and sometimes it's okay to fall back. (Helped by their terrain having more wide-open mountain areas far from the central. I can see why 1 and 3 can't afford that amount of chill)

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: kissy kissy, a little tinsy bit angsty, flirtatious banter, they're going through it in their own ways.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10 - part 11

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

You painted small calculated strokes of warm blues and vibrant pinks. No design or carefully articulated picture simply two beautiful contrast colors dancing around each other. You keep on at this for what feels like minutes but ends up being hours. As you mix the two colors in the corner of the canvas and watch the purple hue they create, the sun also greets the ceiling in John's room. It startles you at first then you realize at least you made it through the night. You sit back yawning quietly, your eyes finding their way to John's sleeping form.

“I can feel it when you stare.” you smile softly, something that comes naturally at the sound of his voice.

“That's why I do it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, turning on his back before reaching to prop a pillow up behind his head.

“Yeah.” he admires through his sleepy gaze. You look sad, it fucking kills him. His head then turns further to the left to catch a glimpse of your work.

“Looks nice, just color though?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yeah I don't know, it just felt right.” you shrug, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Come ere’” he says, reaching out to you and lifting the covers.

You stand carefully placing the brushes and pallet onto the floor furthest from the bed before crawling in beside him. He smells of sleep and john. It's a heavenly scent, something close to pheromones it draws you in so close that you want to crawl inside his skin.

“You know i’ll miss you just as much, I fear even more actually.” he rubs a comforting hand over your back as his deep voice reverberates in his chest.

“Impossible.” you muster up trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Only impossible thing is making this easy,” he admits. He feels the stutter in your breath as you try to keep yourself from crying. This is scary, scarier than eight guns being pointed at his chest and head. Death doesn't scare John Price, hurting you does.

“When I return we should go on a vacation somewhere on the coast.” 

“We should.” you look up at him and his too perfect lips and too perfect nose and eyes. 

“Don't look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” you say in an innocent tone.

“Like you’re trying to tell me you’ll be my destruction.” you laugh, laying your head on his chest hearing the quick pace of his heart beat.

“You should rest your eyes for a little.” he says worried about the fact that you slept for less than four hours last night.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Always.” he says, running his thick fingers through your hair and down your back. His ways of comforting you are more physical he thinks he knows how to use his body more than his words so he smooths the wrinkles in your bedtime shirt as in to say ‘i’m here for you’ and he swipes the hair out of your face to say ‘don’t worry your pretty head’ and squeezes your bum to say ‘i’m a man of morals, but still a man’.

—------

“Wake up love.” John says softly into your hair before leaving a kiss on your forehead. You groan in annoyance and feel the smile that now rests on his lips.

“What? it's nearly noon and your phone is buzzing in the kitchen.” your eyes slowly open as you flip to face the opposite way.

“How can you even hear that?” you say in a groggy tone.

“I’m not that old.” you laugh smacking at the hand that squeezes your hip.

“You know that's not what I meant.” you say sitting up slowly stretching as your arms rise to the ceiling. 

“You’re unbelievably gorgeous, how’d I get so lucky?” you turn your head to look at him, a rosy blush on your cheeks.

“Oh stop being such a flirt.” you say getting up from the bed and heading out of the room.

“So you just leave me here.” he slightly shouts from the bed. He hears your footsteps halt and turn around. You walk back into the room giving him a quick kiss then pulling him up with all your might.

“There you go.” he says standing on his feet.

“I forgot you need assistance to get out of bed.” he laughs from deep within his chest pulling you back against his front to kiss at your neck. You two walk down the hallway, he stops in the kitchen and you leave to go search for your phone in the living area.

“Aha here it is.” you say holding the small device up in victory. It strikes his heart here and now that in less than another twenty four hours his morning will look nothing like this and the sound of your laugh will be mere motivation.

You make your way back to him dialing back the call from this morning which to no one's surprise is your sister. You gleefully sing a goodmorning into the phone knowing full well that it's the afternoon.

He starts the coffee pot before giving you another quick kiss and heading into his office. It's only then he lets a tear slip, a foolish show of weak emotion, but it just happens to be from the strongest feeling he has ever encountered, love.

Its soul gripping and head spinning. It makes his heart mush, you make his heart mush yet his will strong. You’re a distraction but one he gladly invites into his already busy mind. You poke and prod at a military machine, you’re everything he’s prayed for and more than he ever expected. You even scare him.

“John?” you knock for the fifth time a little concerned.

“Yes darling, come in.” he says quickly, clearing his voice.

“Are you okay?” you ask, holding a warm cup of coffee.

“Yes, just thinking.” you set it softly on the coaster you had given him when you realized the water stains popping up all over the surface.

“Thankyou.” you nod, reaching your hand out to cup his chin. You give him a slow soft kiss, one on the lips then one to his cheek before leaving.

You’ve noticed when he works he tends to be more serious and quiet therefore you don't think too much but that doesn't mean it's not resting in the back of your mind. You shut the door softly and go on about your day.

—-------

just a glimpse into their relationship before John departs.

i've missed you guys terribly sorry for my long absence<3

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Ship //// Part 4

Part 1 • 2 • 3

Vera immediately becomes critical when the Captain and Lieutenant keep making their way to the meeting room that has no cameras, no recorders, and nothing to summon Vera with

“Uh, Vera why did you double lock the door like that?”

“No reason. Just checking that they work.”

“That’s not ‘no reason.’”

“Sorry, I messed up with my sayings again.”

“It’s fine, I mess it up all the time too.”

Vera was actually remote-controlling your communicator to silently alert Jule of this behavior

Jule acts immediately putting an EMP-immune drone smaller than a land-fly into the room

“--Captain I say we leave. Go to the enemy planet and try to find our secret base there. You’re right about this ship being unreliable.”

“But I wonder how can we convince the technician to come with?”

“Ugh! Who needs him?! And that (L/n) character too. I say we leave them to self-destruct with this virus-ridden ship.”

“We need the technician. He’s the only one with interplanetary know-how on top of understanding the inner workings of the escape pods we’d have to travel in.”

“Then let’s just knock him upside the head and leave that thing behind.”

“Lieutenant I admire your determination but I’m leaving no one behind to stay with this thing.”

The two continue to talk about how they plan on making a fire at the furthest part of the ship 

Something that could easily be fixed if the technician was near but they planned it so it’s on the other side of the ship 

And since he’s a priority person, they’d be evacuating him 

And if not him then you of course to lure him out 

“Hey Ver I think we should have you take a crack at your new bod.”

“Awesome! I’ll start booting it up now!”

Jule purposely doesn’t inform Vera of the whole conversation and plan

By now he knows just how intense Vera’s feelings are about those he cares about

Except he knows that Vera’s less concerned about restraint than he

So he’ll commence his own plan

Immediately running to you in one of the hobby rooms when Vera stops responding 

Knowing they planned to cut Vera to start the fire

When the alarm blares and Vera turns back on 

The Captain and Lieutenant are right there to tell them to prep the launch pods

“But Jule is more than capable of—”

“IT’S OUR CALL Veras!  Remember your programming!”

“....Yes Captain.”

He preps the pods for the location of an enemy-ruled planet 

Doing all the necessary protocols to filter everyone out safely 

Of course, Vera neglects to really inform you like the others

He knows that it’s best to have you in your own pod away from the stressed and hostile people cramming in

Which is why they’re not prepared when the lieutenant comes in harshly knocking whatever you were doing out of your hand to grab your wrists tightly

“OW! What are you—”

“STOP STRUGGLING! I’m saving your pathetic life.”

She does explain after knocking you around a bit before shoving you towards the captain’s pod

By the time Jule finds you they’ve tied you inside while beckoning the technician in

“I know you’ll think wrong of us for this but these people need you.”

“So IT’s OKAY TO ATTACK SOMEONE INNOCENT?!”

“Please Jule get in the pod. We can talk about ethics more when I’m not inclined to knock you out.”

Jule will step forward before stopping

The Captain goes to yell at him when the alarms stop

So does the smoke that had been permeating through the vents

“The issue of the fire has been neutralized.  The issue about an evil miscreant and their oh-so-powerful captain is underway.”

“V-ver?”

The voice of the ship was coming out of a beautifully crafted android

Glowing blue eyes and black hair flowing along their lean but strong shoulders

The body type is hard to place but from what you can tell it’s male and their stature is lean giving an elegant look to him in general

Their stance has the lieutenant attempting to punch them 

They dodge like they are dancing, grabbing her hand and twisting

“AAAAGH!”

Ver doesn’t let her mourn her wound because they’ve jump-kicked her into the back wall of the pod

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you.”

The Captain’s stunned shock allows you to stumble out and into Jule’s arms

The Captain tries to reach for you only to be met with a stabbing pain in his eyes

Jule shuts your eyes and buries you into his chest, blocking your view

The Captain screams like his lieutenant but it’s cut off by the pod doors closing and then ejecting themselves from the ship

Ver immediately turns to join the hug, Jule’s keeps you in

Only to shrink back when Jule’s glares at their bloodied fingers

They wipe it away before joining the hug

“I’m so happy it’s you guys I’m stuck with.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Me three!”

“...”

“..Vera…I don’t know if you know this but it’s really improper to touch there without consent.”

“Yeah Ver get your hands out our pants.”

“But I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“VER!!”

“Fine, maybe later?”

As much as Jule doesn’t want to encourage that behavior

He has to leave you alone for a while to make sure his plan plays out perfectly 

His message to the enemy sky-guard under an alias he made years ago as a baby-hacker

‘At 43:94 enemy escape pods will be arriving in your airspace. Ur welx’

Watching the enemy broadcast reports about enemy spaceships it apprehended and the officials that were facing a public torture session

When he returns he’s insistent you both open a bottle of champagne

“I really don’t think now is the time, Jule.”

“Oh but it is babe! I think we should party now that we’ve gotten rid of those neets.”

“Wait got rid of–?”

“(Y/n)! I’ve never seen you drink that before! Will you please?!! I’d also like to hold a microphone nearby while you do.”

Now you three will have free reign of the ship learning to live your life in the worlds beyond

Vera knows it doesn’t get any better than this 

They’ve also decided that they’d do anything to keep it this way 

More?

[elletheactualmenace]

You Would do That for Me? - 5

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: Secrets are reviled and feelings realized.

Warnings: Mentions of physical assault (a bit in this chapter), Slight verbal bullying, swearing, crying,

Word Count: 3k

a/n: So because the poll was a tie, I’m posting the one I’ve actually finished. The next part for Was it Worth it? Will be out hopefully soon. Anyways enjoys this and don’t mind spelling errors because I’m to tired to look through it.

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Peter. A lot. It’s like he’s haunting your mind. Thinking about the fake relationship, thinking about how he asked you what you need his help with in the fake relationship, even the way he looks at you. God, he’s taken over your every thought.

During first period Flash leaves you alone, that’s one less thing to deal with. But your brain notices the open space and decides to fill it with thoughts of Peter. 

The next period you have with Peter it gets worse. You just stare at him. Thoughts about his outfit, past conversation, everything.

“His hair looks nice today.” You think, you head lazily resting in your hand. “What the hell am I thinking?” You think to yourself pulling your hand from supporting your head. You take a deep breath and try to shake the thoughts.

“I can’t think like that, this is a fake relationship! What are you thinking?” You scold yourself, but your eyes stay on the back of his head. 

You continue on a spree of thinking of him and scolding yourself for it. It happens for every period you are in together. You hope no one notices, especially not Peter. You want to look away, to keep it safe. But your mind gets away from you. You zone out during your classes. You want to slap yourself.

You sigh when the bell rings. You smile as you pass Peter to get to the door. He smiles back over his shoulder as he collects his things. You swear his smile makes your heart stop for a second.

“Bye,” you say breathlessly as you look back at him. You hope he doesn’t notice your out of character blushing.

“Bye,” he grins back as you walk out the door. 

As you step out of the classroom you let out a large breath. You didn’t even know you were holding your breath. What is going on with you? Having a crush on Peter is a thing of the past. It is a thing of the past isn’t it? 

”Fuck,” You think, “Stop thinking about Peter and get to class.” You bite your lip. reprimanding yourself.

——

Happy picks you all up and you drive to your house. The drive is so long but the time seems to cut in half with people to talk to.

Soon you all settle into the theater room. Everyone, clearly, by their faces, were surprised at the extravagance of your house. You agree to watch the Sixth Sense, and Promise Ned a tour of your dads lab.

Peter takes his seat next to you and you both sit almost leg to leg. Your eyes flicker to him when you feel his hand brush against your leg. You want to watch the movie, but it's getting hard to listen to the characters.

You want to move closer, you want to be closer. It’s like Peter’s drawing you in. You bite your lip, eyes still on the screen. What should you do? You don’t want to embarrass yourself. What if Peter doesn’t want you closer?

Your hand furthest from Peter taps against the couch’s arm rest as you think. 

“Shit shit shit. What should I do? Ugh, this is the stupidest thing to be having an inner conflict about.” You think as you huff out. 

“Fuck it.” You say to yourself and finally scoot closer to Peter so your legs are touching. You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes he doesn’t say anything. Or worse, push you away.

You feel his arm move.

”Oh god, what did I do?” You think as your fist clenches and your teeth let go of your lip. Your body tenses, you're freaking out.

His arm wraps around you. You feel your face heat up and your palms get sweaty, but your body relaxes a bit. He- did he? Oh god. He did. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You quickly bite back the smile, trying not to get spotted. Your breathing increases as you bite back the grin.

Peter then slowly begins to pull his arm away and without thinking you take his hand to pull his arm back. You don’t care that your palm is sweaty against his skin. You don’t want him to pull away. You breathe heavily as you look down at his arm around you. 

Slowly you lean back, so you’re resting against Peter. You let your head fall to his shoulder. You bite back the excited noise threatening to erupt from your vocal cords when he nuzzles his head against your hair.

Your heart beats so fast and butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“Why does he make me feel like this? So happy, so nervous? God, I feel like a little girl.” You think as you try to slow your breathing so Peter doesn’t notice. 

“But I don’t think I care right now.” You admit to yourself as you let your eyes close. You just let yourself get lost in his touch, the way you can smell his shampoo and his cheap cologne. You let your fingers intertwine with his. This feeling he gives you, the nervousness, the giddiness, you don’t understand it. All you know is you want to keep feeling it.

Peter's thumb slowly brushes over your intertwined hands. The feeling makes your breathing soften and your heart rate slow.

You feel your eyes get heavy. Peter's soft touch and the lowlights of the room lul your eyes closed. Usually you’d be embarrassed to fall asleep in front of people, but right now you don’t even care.

——

You stir as you hear quiet laughing from above you and the flash of a camera. You groan out as you reach up to rub your eyes. Not wanting to get up you try to hide your face away from the camera by nuzzling into the surface you’re laying against.

Peter shuffles awake as he feels you nuzzle into him, his grip on your tightens as he covers his eyes from the flashing lights.

”What-“ Peter starts but it cuts off.

”Wake up, love birds.” Ned laughs as he takes another photo with the flash on. MJ snickers as she watches.

“Go away.” You mumble out as you bury your face deeper into- “Peter?” You think as your eyes shoot open. Suddenly you aren’t so tired anymore. Your body shoots up as you let go of Peter, heat rises over your face and only intensifies as you realize what Ned and MJ are doing. 

Peter follows shortly after with his own heated cheeks and embarrassed look. New stops taking photos but continues laughing with MJ.

”You two really did cuddle, huh?” MJ asks with a smirk, you scoff and push her away. 

“Leave us alone.” You huff out as you stand to turn the lights in the theater room on. “When did the movie end?” You ask.

”Ten minutes ago.” Ned answers you as he sits back down.

”Did you have to take photos?” Peter asks, his face red.

”Yes, otherwise no one would believe you have a girlfriend Peter.” MJ laughs. Peter rolls his eyes.

”God, you two are annoying.” You huff out. You try to push away the shyness of being caught as you pull Peter up from the couch. “Let's go somewhere else Peter.” You grumble as you pull him over to the door.

”Use protection!” MJ calls after you, and you roll your eyes with a blush. Peter gulps as he hears her, but he lets you pull him along.

As you step out of the room you roll your eyes and flip her off. MJ just laughs and goes to sit down to put on another movie.

”Those two,” You chuckle as you let go of Peter and let him follow you. You walk and keep my head down. You’re still very embarrassed with, 1 getting caught cuddling with Peter, and 2, cuddling closer while MJ and Ned took horrible blackmail photos. 

Peter's mouth quirks into a smile and he nods. There is still a faint blush on his cheeks.

”Where are we going?” Peter asks as he slowly follows next to you.

”Not sure, just away from them, that was so embarrassing.” You say as you rub the back of your neck.

“I know,” He agrees. You smile to yourself, you’re kind of happy you got caught. It means you both have to acknowledge it. You both can’t run away from it, or make it more awkward.

”It was nice though.” You comment as you continue strolling down the halls. You’re not really going in any particular direction.

”It- yeah it was.” Peter smiles as he looks down at you. You can’t help the butterflies that fill your stomach as he gazes at you. You have to look away. Peters not helping the sudden reappearance of your old feelings for him.

”Wait.” You think. “I like him again? No- I mean, sure he’s nice and handsome and his eyes are really- Oh god.” You sigh as you realize you’re not fooling anyone. Fuck. You have feelings for Peter again. 

“But I don’t want to assume he feels the same. Last time he didn’t.” You mentally groan. “I won’t say anything. Unless he makes a move, I won’t do anything.” You decide as you suck in your bottom lip in thought and keep walking beside Peter.

“Convincing for our, you know, situation.” You add on, softly, trying to not say anything drastic. Peter stutters out his agreement. “Right, right, of course.” 

You both continue walking in silence. You glance over every once and a while but for the most part keep your eyes ahead. Peter's presence is nice, and the comfortable silence between you is enjoyable for both parties.

Approaching a door you push a button to open it. A cool breeze hits your face as you step outside. The sky is dark, the sun just having set. Peter follows next to you as you lead him to a bench along the building.

”Y/n- there was something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” Peter starts as you both take a seat. Your brow scrunches as you look over at him.

”When- when we first were talking about this,” He gestures in between you both. “Relationship…thing,” He stumbles over his words. You just keep your eyes on him.

”We both agreed because, well, we both needed help with something.”

“Oh.” You think as you turn to look forward and try to take small breaths. 

“I need to get Flash off my back, and you- well you told me but I-“ Peter sighs. “I didn't hear and I feel really shitty for not listening, but what did you need help with?” Peter asks as he looks at you.

“Um, right.” You say as you glance at him anxiously.

”Fuck. What was I going to say? I know I came up with something.” You think as you tap your foot on the ground.

”I needed-“ Suddenly you felt a wave of dread wash over you. “Umm, well I-“ You try again, but you feel your throat close up. Why is this so hard, what is going on with you?

”I can’t remem-“ You can’t even finish the sentence as your thoughts get flooded with Derek, Otis and Logan. You lick your lip anxiously. Why can’t you just say it? Why are you getting so worked up?

”Hey, are you okay?” Peter asks as his hand reaches out to gently grab your arm to get your attention. You wince and pull away too quickly for it to be normal. Peter’s hands immediately go up, trying to show you he means no harm. His face is etched with worry and concern. Why did you wince, and why did you flinch?

”Y/n?” Peter asks slowly. You look away, keeping your head down. How had you let him see that? He’s already asking you questions. What will happen if he finds out? That would be shameful. 

“I-“ You try. You stumble over a response.

”Are you okay? Did-“ Peter takes a breath. “Something happen?” Peter says as he tries to move so he can see your face. You turn your head further from his view. You try to will away the tears welling in your eyes. You breathe heavily as you try to keep your eyes open, hoping that somehow the cool wind will dry them out.

”Y/n?” Peter asks again. “Will you please look at me?” He asks. You shake your head. And Peter doesn’t know what to do. “Is this what- you know what?” Peter cuts himself off. “You don’t have to- explain anything to me right now.” Peter says as he raises his hand to graze your back comfortingly. 

He doesn’t say anything else. He just lets his hand rub soothing circles into your back. He doesn’t comment as you let out a quiet sob. You cover your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut. 

”Stop being too emotional, nothing has happened. Just- god stop being so pathetic.” You scold yourself as another sob slips from your throat. More tears fall past your waterline and you don’t even bother wiping them away because they just keep coming.

Peter feels like crying himself as he hears you sob. He sighs heavily as sucks on the side of his cheek. He doesn’t stop his hand. He knows how hard talking can be sometimes.

You try to slow your breathing. You turn a bit to glance at Peter. Peter tilts his head so he can look at you. Suddenly another wave of emotions hit you as your eyes lock with Peter. You cave and lean into Peter. He immediately understands and wraps you in a hug. He shushes you as you cling to his shirt tightly. He lets you cry into his shoulder and leans his head on the top of your head. 

You sniffle as you pull back slightly. “Im sorry, I don’t know-“

”It’s okay.” Peter says as he gently rubs your shoulder, avoiding your hurt arm.

”Is this the thing you need help with?” Peter asks carefully. You look down, and that's all Peter needs. He nods slowly.

”Who’s- doing this?” Peter whispers as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “What are they doing?”

You breathe slowly. Should you tell him? What will happen? This is why you agreed to this. To get his help. 

“Some guys, they-“ You stammer out. “They grab me- um and,” You words get caught in your throat. “They say things and they make comments and won’t let me leave,” You mumble as a tear falls.

”Oh god.” Peter says as he hugs you again. He pulls back a bit to look at you, he tilts your chin so you will look at him.

”Hey, it's okay. I'm here to help you now.” Peter says as you look up at him. You nod and sniffle. You feel a sense of relief come over you.

”I'm sorry you’ve felt the need to keep this to yourself.” Peter voices.

“I just feel so helpless, and it makes me feel-“ You let out a huff of frustration. “So weak, and I don’t want people to think that I am weak.”

Peter nods in understanding. “You’re not weak. It takes a lot of strength to let people in like this.” Peter reassures you.

You sigh and move to stand from the bench. You wrap your arms around yourself as you stand facing away from him. Peter quickly follows you. 

“Y/n.” Peter tries.

”Can we stop- just stop talking about this right now?” You ask as you look down.

”Of course.” Peter says as he moves to stand in front of you. “But you can’t just close up. Okay?” He asks.

You nod. “Okay.”

Peter smiles softly. “Good.” Peter steps closer and you look up.

”I want you to know,” Peter starts as he leans in closer. “And then I swear I’ll stop talking about it.” Peter moves his hands slowly to cup your cheek, you don’t move to push him away.

“I promise you, I’ll protect you. None of them will ever hurt you again.” Peter whispers as he leans in as his thumbs stroke your cheek. “Never.” He breathes out.

”Thank you.” You whisper.

”You don’t have to thank me.” Peter says as his eyes soften.

”But I want to. You don’t have to help me.” You comment.

”You helped me with Flash,” Peter reasons. “And even if you didn’t, I would never let anyone hurt you.”

His eyes locked with yours. You lean towards him too. Inching closer and closer. You feel his hot breath against your cold skin. The distance closes, and Peter's pink lips press against yours. Your breath hitches as your eyes flutter closed. Your lips mold together, body’s relaxing in the others hold. 

Your lips tingle, as his lips move against yours. Your cold cheeks heat up into a blush. You can’t help but lean into him more. And Peter takes the weight, like you're weightless, holding you up. 

When he finally pulls away he leans his forehead against yours. Your breathing is heavy and so is his. You just look into his eyes. And he smiles as he looks into yours. He pulls his hands down and away from your face.

”I don’t know if I want this to be a fake relationship anymore.” You say quietly.  You see Peter's eyes widen but a faint smile paints his lips.

“Me too.” Peter admits. You’re not sure what to say but you keep him close.

”Start over?” You ask softly, your hands wrapping around his shoulders. It’s a bit awkward but Peter doesn’t mind, almost pushing himself closer to you.

”Yeah,” He smiles. “So, uh, Y/n Stark, do you wanna, go out with me?” Peter asks with a small, awkward smile. 

“I’d like that, Peter Parker.” You smile up at him. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

Tag List:

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@princess-ofthe-pages

@Sunnyx07

@hollandweather

@crumpets-are-better-with-jam

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[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 3

Title: Greenhouse Muses and Surprise Guests   

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You need to think out this whole situation, and where better than your favourite place on campus? The one place where no one ever goes and where you can truly do your best problem solvi—wait who the hell is sitting in your supposed place of undisturbed tranquility? 

Warnings: PG18, heavy swearing, photography jargon (hopefully nothing tooooo confusing, I intentionally over explained a bit for those unfamiliar but a quick google search should clear up anything), euc=short form for eucalyptus “Youke”, art jargon but less, 1 (one) mention of metaphorical murder, and a bit of angst and fluff. I think that’s all?? Hella internal dialogue 

Word Count: 10,804

Release Date: March 2, 2023, 4:00PM

A/N 1: she somehow went from 8k to 10.8k???? Hope you enjoy!!

A/N 1.5: I’m literally so tired of looking at this, I’ve read it at least 10 times in three days. 

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Jungkook’s sitting at a table outside what he considers to be his new safe haven, making a mental note to thank Yuri for showing him the greenhouse cafe—is that its name? He should’ve asked.

He can see himself coming here all the time for quiet morning work sessions. The coffee is great, the snacks are delicious, and there aren’t a lot of people around either—zero—to be precise. So he really considers this a win in his book.

The cafe is just southwest of a medium sized greenhouse, not even a minute's walking distance between the two. He could clearly see all the flowers and plants within from his seat outside. And behind the greenhouse was nothing but a small grass field followed by thick, dense forest.

It doesn’t even feel like he’s on campus. Just free about the world, grabbing a coffee and sitting down to work on a project like anyone else would. Like anyone else could. Another face in the crowd instead of the one on magazines in every corner store, book shop and grocer.

He can dream about it. Take in these small moments, but it will never be his reality. Not really. Even in this little corner of blissful nowhere the barista who served him his coffee knew who he was, addressed him properly, albeit a bit stuttered.

And he can’t blame her. It’s what she’s supposed to do. How she’s ‘supposed’ to react to him. 

He’s someone big and important. Someone people look to and see their future in his hands. Someone who merits reactions when in the presence of others. 

Someone who...

Someone...

So he dreams. And is thankful for what little normalcy he can get.

Taking a deep breath in, he holds it and he shakes his head, dismissing the thoughts before releasing a steady, controlled exhale.

Reset.

The cafe has an awning over its small patio, four tables on either side of the doorway, two that seat four and two that seat two on their respective sides, eight in total. He’s chosen to sit at the table of two furthest from the greenhouse, closest to the cafe. It has more shade, allowing him to see the screen of his laptop better.

Jungkook needed some time alone without anyone finding him, he gave that stupid speech on Monday for many reasons, but one of the most important ones was that he wants to be able to exist in a public space and to do his school work without a crowd gathering.

He’s taking this university thing seriously, and that means doing good work, excelling in his chosen subjects. It requires no distractions and lots of effort.

He doesn’t want to have to be cramped up in his dorm the whole time, too scared to leave for fear of never being left alone. He left that behind when he stepped foot onto the campus.

No more worrying about cameras or security or kingdoms. No more watching and tracking his every step.

This is his time to be a young man, not the prince. Just Jungkook.

And so far? He’s doing okay.

But just in case, he’s also wearing a hat, hoodie and mask for extra protection while editing some pictures.

Old habits die hard.

His Design and Visual Culture professor had given out an intro assignment to the class so he could get a read on everyone’s skill levels and to see where his starting point would be. Professor Hirmer asked everyone in the class to each submit three images: one portrait; black and white or colour, one still life of the photographers choosing, and one image of whatever your preferred style was. Then edit them to the best of their abilities, and submit by noon the following Monday.

Jungkook’s already finished his portrait. He hasn’t really made any friends here yet, so he just took one of himself, which made it easier in the long run because he was so used to his picture being taken.

Slicked back hair, a black tight fit shirt, silver chain and white background made up the shot aside from him. He’d decided on butterfly lighting because he’s always found it to be the most flattering aside from Rembrandt. Don’t get him wrong, Rembrandt’s a nice technique, Jungkook just didn’t want his portrait to be too dramatic.

He got the one he wanted to use in no time, and it required very little editing. Black and white is forgiving like that.

Currently, he’s working on his still life.

A latte with a basic heart design in a dark navy mug sat on the keys of a mahogany wood grand piano. The mug sat on the right side of thirds, and a couple stems of eucalyptus half cover the keys to the left, the tips of it just barely covering the bottom of the mug. He kept his depth of field wide so that most of what was in the frame was in focus, but the primary focus of the entire image is intended to be the drink and tips of the eucalyptus.

Jungkook managed to get one of the six guards his father insisted on him having here to go to a local market to grab the euc stems. Their remains were currently hanging in his shower, smelling wonderful and fresh.

The latte he did himself, a small talent after needing coffee constantly in his teen years to keep up with everything.

And as for the piano? He booked a music room for an hour with one in it. Work smarter not harder.

He’d kept his lighting dark, but gentle, really highlighting the whites of the piano keys while keeping the rich hues of the mahogany and navy present. The eucalyptus is comfortably set in the middle, having some brighter and darker tones to balance it out.

He’s quite proud of it, having created a visually pleasing image that had equal amounts of high, medium and low tones. But he wants the edges of the picture to blur slightly, so he’s adding a very subtly feathered vignette to the image.

He knows most of his peers will likely be doing a traditional still life of fruit or flowers, so he took a risk and made the prompt his own. He just hopes it pays off.

While editing, Jungkook’s simultaneously trying to brainstorm what he wants to do for his third picture. His style of choice is candids, takes them constantly, yet he doesn’t have a single one he wants to use for the assignment.

He likes them best because candids are those perfectly imperfect moments that show who a person truly is, when they’re at their happiest and saddest moments and everything in between. Candids are for when someone’s so caught up in what they’re doing that they look entirely serene in their task, and you want to capture that, forever. A small sliver of them, existing purely as they are.

Nothing fake, nothing practiced, no do overs. Just capturing genuine moments as they happen. A true reflection of humanity without filters or editing.

Jungkook’s thinking of maybe going undercover in the courtyard to snap some pictures of random people to see if that could work when a movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

Someone, with their back facing him, is very unceremoniously dumping their tote bag at the table most opposite him; the table for two that’s half covered in sunlight, half shaded.

Clad in loose fitting paint and charcoal covered overalls, a white shirt and bandana, they’re taking out what appear to be art supplies.

Brushes, small metal tins filled with paint, a very chaotically colourful water holder, and painting pad all gather onto the little table. He’s surprised at how they make it all fit.

It seems like he’s not the only one who’s seen this place for its potential.

But when they turn around, it’s…You?

It’s you.

Of all people.

What are the odds?

He wants to say hi, but hesitates, still aware of your conversation from earlier and hopes there’s no harm in a friendly hello between people who are acquainted, regardless of pending decisions.

But Jungkook watches your eyes pass right over him, unaware or uncaring he’s there. His half-raised hand falls along with the smile that’s found its way onto his covered face as you continue into the cafe.

A byproduct of his upbringing is being able to read even the subtlest of body language and facial shifts in people. And in your case, it’s like you’re screaming at him without actually speaking.

He knows from your closed off posture alone that you don’t want to be disturbed. But your expression…it's like a mixture of anger, worry and thoughtfulness.

Jungkook knows better than to interrupt someone when they look like that, and he decides against saying anything, returning to his assignment.

A minute later the bell on the door chimes, signaling your exit. 

Looking up, he notes the cup of warm whatever it is in one hand, a very full looking pastry bag in the other, and a water bottle tucked into your side via your elbow.

He wonders what’s inside the cup. Coffee? Would you drink caffeinated or decaf? Or maybe you’re more of a tea person. But would it be black or green tea? Do you use milk? What about sweetener? He can’t decide but that doesn’t stop the thoughts from racing across his mind.

Why does he care so much?

You settle down into your seat, the shaded one of the pair, and—somehow—place your newly acquired goods on the already jam packed table. Truly a talent within itself.

But a sip from your cup, and a bite of something that resembles a tart later, you wipe your hands on your overalls and pick up a brush, wetting it from the colourful container. Bringing the empty, water only filled brush to the paint pad in front of you, you start.

Your back blocks most of it so he can’t see much, but your eye line is honed in on the greenhouse. And if he had to guess just by looking, you’re focused on the orchid that sits front and center. 

He couldn’t name it specifically, but he can see why you’d want to commit it to paper. It’s pretty—yellow and red, very exotic looking, and he doesn't mean to—doesn’t even realize he is—when he finds himself watching you work instead of doing his own, mesmerized.

Your hand moves gracefully from paint to paper to water and back again.  Occasionally, switching out brushes or wiping the one you had on your pants, drying it or maybe getting the last bits of colour off. He’s fascinated with how you know exactly what to use and where to put what in order for the image to spring to life. Most likely years of practice and muscle memory guiding you.

Sort of how he does photography. Years of experience and knowing which poses and angles to use to really make an image pop. For a moment he wonders if anyones looked at his art the way he’s looking at yours.

When you take a small break, stretching out your back and limbs, Jungkook snaps out of his daze and looks at the clock on the bottom right hand side of his screen.

He’s been watching you for nearly 30 minutes.

That’s creepy as hell Jeon, he thinks to himself, lucky you didn’t notice, and returns his sights to his laptop.

Fuck. What was he doing again?

Staring at the still life in front of him, it takes a minute before he recalls.

Oh right.

Professor Hirmer’s assignment. The third image. A picture of his preferred style—his preferred style of candids. What could he do for his candid shot?

He thinks. A candid shot. Candids. Caaaannnndidddssssss. Caaaaaa—

A lightbulb goes off and he feels like both an idiot and a genius.

Retrieving his camera from his bag, Jungkook glances your way and sees you painting again.

Perfect.

Quietly, he gets up from his seat, moving just enough to be able to see a sliver of your painting and a small portion of your face. You're so focused that you don't even notice him, like nothing outside the page matters. And only for a second does he wonder what you’re thinking about.

Your body is easy to read, it’s your mind that remains a mystery.

The sun’s moved ever so slightly so that your page is now fully doused in sunlight, while you remain under the gentle caress of shadow from the awning.

Smart girl.

But your face is bathed in the subtle glow of your papers reflecting illumination. And it's like you’re the one creating light with every brush stroke.

You look transcendent.

With that sight in his viewfinder, Jungkook takes a few shots in portrait framing, his thumb covering the speaker that lets out the ‘click’ noise of a picture being taken, before adjusting his shutter speed.

These pictures all have you in focus, with the background consisting of half somewhat blurry cafe wall, half very blurry forest green. And they’re okay, they work. But he wants to have your movements and surrounding materials in the image as well, to really show the process of an artist at work. So he switches to a landscape framing and settles on a slower shutter speed to create a longer exposure.

Waiting for you to clean your brush in the water cup before snapping the capture button, Jungkook holds steady as it’s a couple seconds before the image takes. It makes him wish he had his tripod with him because it would make this so much easier, but he can make due if he has too. 

And he has too. Because he doesn’t want this opportunity to pass.

After a few more shots and near leg cramp later, he brings the results of his efforts up on the viewfinder for review. Jungkook’s thrilled to see that the movement in the piece was taken exactly how he wanted. Your arm steady on the canvas, but all your movements prior shown like angelically lit rays due to the angle of the sun, creating an ocean of movement around a steadily focused you.

They’re hauntingly beautiful. 

He takes a couple more like that for good measure, getting in different movements and shutter speeds before slowly making his way back to his laptop and table.

Popping his SD card into his computer for closer inspection, Jungkook sees there’s definitely more than one useful candidate and gets to work on narrowing down his favourite.

He is going to pass this assignment with flying colours. And it’s all thanks to you.

As you arrive at the cafe you notice a guy in a black hoodie, hat and mask with his head stuck in a laptop at the furthest table on the patio. Internally, you sigh that there’s someone else here; it’s almost always vacant and that’s why you love it. No people, no distractions, just you and your work, and your thoughts.

You try not to worry too much about it, doing your best to just ignore him and have hope that he leaves soon. At least he’s as far away from your spot as he can get.

Dropping your tote on the chair in the sun, you start placing all your things on the table. It’s an exact science you’ve perfected over many, many paint sessions and far too much spilled liquid. Countless art projects have fallen victim on this table, some you were able to salvage, but most were added to its body count.

Setting down your paint tins, you still can’t get the conversation with Yuri out of your head. Not leaving the building, not crossing the campus, not all the time it took you to get way over here either, no matter how hard you tried.

You huff.

Was your reaction really that unjustified? Could she not see how insane she was acting? Why did she jump to you being jealous? Why would she even think you’d be jealous?

You have Nel.

A prince isn’t going to change that.

And speaking of, you didn’t even get to tell her about your conversation with Jungkook.

After this fight though…you don’t think you will.

He seems to be becoming a sore spot between the two of you, ridiculous as that is, so you think it best to just not bring it up and deal with it on your own. That’s how you usually do things anyway, and you were only going to ask Yuri as a thinking out loud type of thing, hoping she had some input. But it’s clear now that none of it would have been useful anyway.

Finishing placing your things down—all fitting perfectly, by the way—you dig into your tote for your wallet and head into the cafe, still doing your best to ignore the other patron. Hopefully you can give off enough of a vibe that he takes the hint and leaves.

The bells hanging on the door sound as it opens and shuts.

“Hey YN,” Vivian, the barista, calls at your entrance.

You two know each other well, enough to be on a first name basis. You, being one of—if not the only—regular, and the cafe—being a little out of the way of anything else—not having many students make it a part of their routine.

A comfortable, welcomed sort of exile. One you gladly share with her.

“It’s good to see you,” she says, looking at the window closest to where you sit, “Are we painting again? I saw they switched up the flowers in the greenhouse on Monday. The ones they have out now are so beautiful.”

“It’s great to see you too, Viv” you respond, eyeballing the pastry display. You notice they have your favourite egg tarts in today.

At least one thing is going right for you.

“And yeah, they are,” you say warmly, regarding her comment. “I’m thinking I’m about to get real sick and tired of looking at that orchid they placed front and center.”

Viv laughs, patiently waiting on your order, though she’s got a good idea of what it’ll be.

“Could I get a hot chocolate with whip please?” You ask, and drum your fingers on your legs deciding how many tarts to get—two or three? Two or three?—before remembering, “Oh! and if you still have the not so super secret stash of mini marshmallows that you don’t have here,” throwing up air quotes and a smirk for good measure, “Could you toss a few of those in too? I’ll tip you extraaaaa.”

Viv only gives you a look that says yes they do but that she’ll never admit it out loud, and you’re grateful to her.

You’d spotted them one day by chance in first year and asked if you could have some with your drink. Viv merely stated that they don’t have marshmallows at the cafe while slipping a few in under your lid with a wink. You’ve been eternally appreciative for that kindness ever since, and tip her handsomely for it, but you’ve never known why it was such a secret. 

Maybe one day you’ll ask.  

Coffee isn’t really your thing, only turning to it during exams season, and you weren’t in the mood for tea, so hot chocolate’s always your favourite alternative.

But hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows?

Instant mood booster. And you definitely need that after the afternoon you’ve had.

“Anything else?” Viv asks, adding the large amount of whip cream she knows you like to the top of your drink.

“Yeah actually,” you smile, “could I get a water bottle and three of the egg tarts? They’re my favourite.”

Three seemed to be the most unreasonable option, therefore it’s the one you had to go with. And soon, a much too small, very full paper pastry bag finds its way onto the counter, accompanying your drinks.

“I’ll let bossman know about your dragon-like hoarding tendencies with the tarts and see if we can get them in more regularly,” Viv says, unsuccessfully keeping in a giggle at the end of her subtle jab and it makes you laugh too. “I mean, I don’t see why not seeing as you pretty much single handedly keep this place afloat anyway.”

You adore Viv. She’s real and kind, and very much someone you consider to be a bosom friend of sorts. You can tell her if you’ve had a bad day or a good one, and she’ll do the same, no shroud of inane pleasantries. You two having escaped the somewhat awkward ‘you work here and I go here so lets be nice to one another’ worker-customer relationship to a genuine friendship, and it makes the whole experience that much better. 

But it also allows for pulling on one another’s legs, like you do now.

“You’re so mean to me… and lucky I like you for it,” you say, opening your wallet, happy to pay whatever number you’re given plus 30%. The marshmallows and Viv are worth it. “How much will it be?”

She lets you know the total and you hand her a couple of mandatory bills plus a few extra, telling her to keep the change. You’ll lose any coins you have anyway, might as well give them to someone who’ll use them.

Viv says thanks and you make your way back to your spot, hands full and mind feeling a little lighter.

Thanks Viv.

Sitting down, you take a swig of your drink, a bite of your newly acquired tarts and get to work.

Starting with a wet on wet approach: you brush the canvas with water where you’ll eventually put some colour so it bleeds intentionally, and glance up every couple seconds to make sure to get a proper likeness.

It’s a yellow tiger orchid, truly beautiful—you’re a bit of a flower nerd because of your mom, but especially with orchids because they’re your favourite. They just come in so many different forms, it’s hard not to love their diversity.

Dipping into your paints now, you add some yellows in slowly, deciding to think of it as less of a flower study and more of an artistic interpretation so you don't have to use your brain too much. You’ll be using it enough to think through this whole Jungkook thing, no need to get caught up in the details and strain yourself even more.

Carefully put and one by one, more and more colours make their way onto the page and you settle into the calmness of creating. It leaves the open space you need for your mind to finally start working through the whole Jungkook–Yuri, Yuri–You, You–Jungkook situation before immediately correcting that there is no You–Jungkook situation.

He just wants to be friends, and that doesn’t constitute a situation. More of a predicament.

Yeah, that sounds better.

You switch out your brush in favour of a tart after getting base colours down, takinge a hefty bite and chasing it down with more hot chocolate. Damn it’s good, you need to ask Viv what magic she puts in it to make it this amazing.

Another swig and you think it’ll be better to just jump right into your mental debate. Get it over with, hash it all out. 

So that’s exactly what you do.

It isn’t that you do or don’t want to be friends with Jungkook, he seems nice enough.

It’s a matter of if you can be.

Jungkook is probably a very self-disciplined individual—if you knew anything about his upbringing—so it’s not like he wouldn’t understand your drive. He’d probably understand you in that respect more than Yuri does. Why you work so hard, why you don’t slow down. You can’t.

You won't. Not for anyone or anything.

And he can clearly understand social cues so you don’t have to worry about things getting awkward. He would act appropriately, never pushing boundaries—

Using a thin angled brush, you add more yellow to create sharper lines.

—And had he been just Jungkook, you wouldn’t even be sitting here having this ridiculous mental conversation with yourself. Because who stresses this much over a new potential friendship? You certainly never have before.

But that’s the problem, he isn’t just regular old Jungkook.

He is His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook.

And as much as his title doesn’t mean shit to you, it sure as hell means a whole lot of something to everyone else.

He’s heir to the biggest kingdom on this half of the planet. On the cover of every teen magazine and online news article. Only child to the King and Queen. 

Powerful. Attractive. Single.

In short, Jungkook has been incredibly well known and incredibly important since the day he was born 24 years ago.

So you have to sit and think out what would happen if you became the prince's first female college friend. Well… aside from Yuri, but you don’t know how long that’s going to last, given where she thought things were going.

Being seen with him publicly would immediately put you in a spotlight you don’t want. You hate being the center of attention, but that’s the least of your worries.

You worry greatly that you wouldn’t firstly be known for becoming ‘YN, globally renowned painter, artist and business woman,’ selling pieces for more than they’re worth and then some. Galleries from all over the world knocking down your door, begging for your work. Having billionaires auction off paintings you’ve done for charity, being flown around the world for and by people to have you create something for them. Be it portraits or murals or even a performance—

Some burnished red now, with a small thin tip brush to begin the rorschach like patterns on the petals.  

—You wanted to be successful by your own hand, and then and only then would you occasionally speak of your very, incredibly platonic, not at all romantic, years old friendship with the prince, who you’d met in your college years by chance.

But you know that if you say yes, if you agree, all of those worries would prove true. That none of it would happen. None of the future you’ve worked for the better part of a decade on would come to fruition.

Oh no, no, no. That wouldn’t be the case at all.

Why would it? If you said yes, you’d become this week's most hot and trending piece of gossip. You’d be ‘the first girl Prince Jungkook was seeing in college,’ and everyone would ask ‘are you his new girlfriend?’ or ‘just a fling?’

If you said yes, it would be a constant barrage of:

‘Where did you meet?’ ‘Is he a good kisser?’ ‘How long have you been dating?’ ‘Have you met the king?’ ‘Does he like you?’ ‘What about the Queen, does she approve?’ ‘Has The Prince mentioned marriage at all?’ ‘Can we see the ring?’ ‘How many children will you have?’

At the grocery store, the mall, the hallways of your school, your hometown, the bathroom of a restaurant. It would be everywhere all of the time, constantly, and your head is already spinning at all the potential bombardment to your currently nice and relatively quiet life, so you take another snack break and stretch. 

Finishing your first tart and making a good dent in your second, the hot chocolate is half gone at this point. Whip cream and marshmallows having long melted, making the drink extra smooth.

Returning to your painting and back on topic; you’re not dense. You know how the media does what it wants with the people they see as mere puppets. As if they aren’t living breathing individuals with lives outside the very narrow-minded, click bait titled, news articles.

Their ‘reporters’ have absolutely no regard for what they say and how they act. They have not a care in the world for what their claims do to all the innocent individuals whose lives they write about after they’re done with them.

Selfish is the nicest word you can think to describe them. They’re vicious, heartless, vile people, and you have no desire to ever be the object of their attention.

The flowers are springing to life beautifully as you put layer after layer of detail. You add some darker hues, deciding to go with a more vivid red rather than the burnished one from before. Your wet on wet approach is working magic on blending the colours seamlessly for you. It really accentua—

—And another thing! If you did say yes, you could just see it now;

After your successful career launch, you’d always—no matter what you did—always be questioned about your relationship and what could have been with the prince. Or you’d be asked if knowing him is what got you to where you were, if he gave you a leg up, so to speak.

As if you would let him have any hand in making you what you were always going to become.

You didn’t and don’t need his or anyone’s help.

But it would always be, ‘YN? Oh you mean that artist got that much recognition just because she knew Prince Jungkook?’ or ‘YN, the Prince’s ex from college?’ no matter how hard he or you pushed that you were just friends. Because who would listen to either of you after the speculation was already there? After the seed was planted in their minds.

People love secrets and thinking they know all the dirty, gossipy scandals more than anything. Thinking they know more about other people's secrets than they do their own. As if they have nothing better to do with their lives.

Sighing, you drink the last bit of hot chocolate, wanting another one once it’s gone, but not the sugar headache that comes with that. Water then.

Adding some dimension to the petals by using a clean, damp brush to remove some pigment, you can’t help but let your mind wander to the most obvious conclusion that would be made and sink into it.  

You’re almost scared of the social pariah you’d become with every other woman and handful of men on campus. One dating rumor and you're done. Gone. Dismissed.

Or worse. One dating rumor and your popularity will suddenly skyrocket. You won’t have another moment to breathe alone so long as you’re still in school.

Jungkook is the most eligible bachelor on this side of the planet, potentially the whole world. His potential matches are princesses and the daughters of the filthy rich.

Who are you?

No one.

At least right now you are.

You aren’t royal, aren’t of ‘noble birth,’ aren’t a wealthy socialite. You aren’t even an independent, wildly successful career woman yet.

You’re just a scholarship kid who’s only at this school because she worked her ass off for it. Who has to continuously work her ass off for it if she wants to continue to be here.  

And you do want to. You want to work hard and become who you’ve always known you’d be. One invisible, important step at a time. 

From the first sketch to the last brush stroke.

So to summarize.

You don’t want to be the media’s plaything. Something for them to have their fun with and be bored of in a week, the future you’re working so hard to create destroyed before ever seeing the light of day. Fizzled out like a candle in a pouring downfall, only smoke remaining from the once bright and proud flame.

Secondly, you don’t want to be the social outcast or new campus favourite simply because you made a new friend. Having either icicles thrown at you from every set of eyes on campus or clout grabbers following your every footstep, begging for attention. Snubbed from any group projects, crowds parting like the red sea at your arrival, or never getting a moment to yourself again, late to every class due to your own personal assembly.

You’re exhausted at the mere thought of the possibility of either.

And lastly, you don’t want all the possible implications that come with knowing and befriending a man like him. Plain and simple.

What you want is to establish yourself because you worked for and earned it. What you want is to be successful, putting your near decade of practice and studying to good use. What you want is to have media attention, but for your talents, your efforts, and accomplishments.

Not his.

Not because you happened to treat the second most important person in your country like a normal, regular person.

Like he’d asked literally everyone else on your campus to do.

It isn’t your fault you're the only one who has ears that work.

But…on that note…

This is the prince.

And you are his citizen under his family’s monarchy. 

You don’t know if you’re even allowed to say no.

Can you?

He said you could…or was that him just giving you the illusion of choice? Don’t you have to listen to him? By royal decree or whatever it was that forced people to live under the royal family’s rule?

You have no idea, and choose to sit on it some more. There has to be a better solution to this.

You wish you could just talk to Yuri. She’s been your sounding board for the better part of two years now. But that’s definitely a no-go after today. You worry what bringing up anything prince related would do to your friendship right now. You’ve had enough arguments and mental taxation for the time being, thanks.

And if not Yuri…You would talk to Nel…

But Nel’s in a completely different country—a completely different time zone—right now. Already halfway through his night and you don’t want to wake him.

Wait, Nel.

Fuck.

Nel is another thing you have to consider in all this. You aren’t sure how he’d react to any form of relationship you’d have with Jungkook. 

How would he react to the media’s coverage of you with the prince?

Would he believe you when you denied everything?

Five years is a long time.

To know someone. To love them. To trust them. And you both know where you stand. You know where your future lies; with him. And he knows his lies with you.

But Nel is only human, and every human has flaws. No one is perfect. Everyone can have moments of weakness. Every person can feel jealous no matter how secure the relationship.

And jealousy can kill a relationship just as quickly, if not faster than anything else.

Jealousy can make you think things so irrational that it breaks down the wall of trust you built on a foundation of cement and bricks like it was nothing more than two twigs being held up by sheer luck and willpower alone.

A horrible rumor. 

A gust of wind. 

What’s the difference?

Five years of love, trust and communication could crumble to dust because of some asshole with a camera, an angle, and a computer with an internet connection.

You don’t want that to happen. You cannot express fervently enough how badly you never want something like that to happen to you or Nel.

You love your relationship. You love Nel, and you can’t do anything to jeopardize that. Ever.

But surely he’d understand if the heir to your nation's throne asked you to be his friend.

Surely he’d believe you when you told him that absolutely nothing was going on between you and Jungkook and that the media is just having a field day because he was the prince, and you were a girl around his age.

Surely he would…

Surely…

Five years is a long time.

But it’s also short. If you consider that for just over two of them you were long distance 9 months out of the year. And that two and a half more of them were when you were in highschool doing 60 hour weeks while he had football practice before and after school every day.  

When you spent most of your weekends at galleries, or portrait study or cramming for a test.

When he spent his studying and practicing and catching up on all his lost sleep from practice.

Maybe…

Maybe you shouldn’t bring it up to him.

A fire can’t start where there isn’t any kindling…right?

An argument can’t start, mistrust can’t begin, jealousy can’t exist if he just…never knows about it.

If nobody knows about it.

Actually.

Maybe that’s exactly what you’ll do. Just not tell anyone.

It’s not lying, not really. It’s just omitting a very, very small part of your life. 

And it’s not like you’ll be doing anything bad. It would most likely just be Jungkook asking about where to bring girls on dates or if you’ve seen the newest tv show that’s been on.

You’d tell him Azorè’s is the restaurant closest to campus that’s actually nice, and that no, you haven’t, because you don’t watch a lot of TV if you can help it.

That’s not devious, it’s normal friend stuff—just without the immense social pressure and potential repercussions of knowing him and being female at the same time.

Holy Shit.

This might be crazy enough to work.

And this way… this way you don’t have to say no to Jungkook, and Yuri won’t be mad, and Nel won’t get jealous, and you’ll stay out of the spotlight.

This way works out for everyone.

This way solves everything.

You huff, relieved. 

Now you just have to convince the prince that it’s a good idea.

He’s used to omitting things, isn't he? He must because of his future job. Don’t they train future monarchs in the wise and ancient art of social deception and secret keeping—to keep the peace or whatever?

You don’t think it’ll be that big a leap for him.

The longer you ruminate, the more you like the idea, deciding that when you get back to your dorm later, that’s what you’ll tell him. And if he doesn’t like it, well then problem solved all around anyway.

You reach for your hot chocolate, remember it’s empty, and switch to your water instead. Celebrating by mentally patting yourself on the back.

Always trust the greenhouse cafe. The greenhouse cafe is good. The greenhouse cafe is wise. The greenhouse cafe is all kno—

“That’s beautiful.”

You almost jump out of your seat at the voice, knee hitting the table in the process. It makes everything on it bounce and clang loudly and the hand holding your brush that was also nearing your water flies to your chest, leaving a splotch of red paint on your cheek.

“Ow, fuck,” you say, reaching to rub your now throbbing knee. That’s going to bruise. You’re just lucky nothing spilled, you certainly hit the table hard enough.

Looking up to see who your unintentional heart attack provoker was, you blink a couple times before a worried looking Jungkook with big eyes comes into focus.

Though, his worry is brief it seems, as his attention shifts to the painting in front of you, the small smile from the day you met making an reappearance.

Didn’t he just see you jump ten feet in the air? Because of him???

“What the fuck Jungkook?! You scared the shit out of me,” you say scowling, giving him a piece of your mind while your heartbeat returns to a healthier pace. “Didn’t they ever tell you not to sneak up on people in that big, fancy house of yours?”

Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever heard anyone call the palace a ‘big, fancy house’ before. Another first with you. And he’s about to say as much when his gaze finally meets your own and see’s how upset you are. Right, he spooked you.

The hand not holding a laptop into his side slides behind his neck and he looks away. You swear you can see the prince blushing.

Did you cause that?

Wait.

Stop.

Rewind.

You look him up and down quickly.

Hoodie. Hat. Laptop. Mask around his wrist.

Jungkook was the guy sitting on the patio from earlier? How did you not recognize him? Like at all?

He has the most famous face in the world and you couldn’t recognize it when it was 20 feet away?

Wow.

Actually.

Hat to hide the hair, hoodie to hide the body, mask to hide the face. 

Impressive. He really knew how to blend in when he wanted too.

But he hasn’t even said hi or sorry. And he undoubtedly saw you earlier as you weren’t exactly subtle in placing your things on the table.

So much for wanting to be friends. He can’t even say hello to you?

...or maybe you got lucky and he saw that you really didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Thoughts aside, you won’t admit to him you find his camouflage techniques exceptional. He doesn’t need the ego boost.

Jungkook's hand recedes from his nape and he looks at you again, blush almost gone.

“Ah.. sorry.” He cringes a little. “I’ve always been told I’m light on my feet and I constantly forget when I’m around new people. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry, YN.”

So his manners haven’t completely escaped him. 

You give him a hard time as you point a finger his way. “You’re paying the hospital bill if my kneecap’s broken.”

It only takes a second for the joke to land this time, and a small laugh escapes his lips.

“Yeah, that’s fair. You break it, you buy it?”

It’s the first joke you’ve heard him make, and honestly, it isn’t bad. You chuckle.

“Something like that, sure. Here,” you say, holding the canvas up a little higher for him to see. “It’s a Yellow Tiger Orchid. The greenhouse likes to switch around the plants every other week, but these guys are always my favourite. Make for a fun challenge.”

Jungkook's loose hand touches the edge of the canvas lightly, careful not to disturb the still drying paint.

His words are almost thoughtless, entirely too focused on your work as he says, “You’re incredibly talented, your parents must be so proud.”

“Parent,” you correct, not harshly, just so that he knows you’ve only got the one. “And thanks, it stems from my many years of practice and a shady deal with an even shadier witch. All I know is I owe her my first born.”

That smile of his makes a comeback, only bigger and followed by a snicker.

You match it.

“But yes, my mother’s incredibly proud and a large part of the reason I’m here, never once having stopped supporting my goals.”

That’s true. Very true. Your mum never once thought your dreams were out of your reach, only ever pushing you towards them where she could. Placing steps down for you where she was able to.

She signed you up for lessons, drove you to galleries, bought you book after book on all your favourite artists and painting techniques. She got you paints and palettes and canvases, and did everything she possibly could have to get you where you now are.

She’s your number one fan.

And, in true proud mom fashion, she told everyone she could about how her daughter got into RABFA on scholarship all by herself—except you didn’t. You’re here because of all the support she gave during those years as well as your efforts, but she refuses to take any of the credit.

“I’m happy to hear it,” he says genuinely, before hesitating. Looking like he wants to say something but is debating it. “Can I–Do you–,” he inhales deeply,  clearly not used to fumbling over his words.

It’s...cute.

“Would you mind if I sat down?” he finally gets out. “I’d love to see more of your work.”

You think about it only for a second, taking a quick scan of your surroundings. There’s no one around besides Viv, and she’s probably working in the back. Plus, you're pretty sure he’s seen or even spoken to some of the greatest artists of your time. Not to mention, you’d love to hear his input.

“Yeah, sure.”

Instead of sitting on the chair your bag is currently using, he puts his things on the table to your right and spins one around from there, settling down with arms folded over the back of it.

“Thanks.”

You hand over your sketchpad. A perk to using a heavily water based medium is that your painting’s already dried in the time since you first spoke.

Jungkook flips his way through the pages slowly, taking his time in studying each painting as an individual piece. It’s not long before he reaches the one you were working on today. Having just started this pad a month ago, there isn’t much in it yet.

He searches back through to one right near the beginning.

“This ones my favourite,” he says, spinning the canvas around for you to see. It’s a tiger lily painting you’d done late in the summer at home.

Your mother is a notorious gardener, and has several flower beds that could rival a plant nursery with the sheer size, magnitude and variety of flowers in them. 

Rose bushes, dahlias, sunflowers, snap dragons, carnations, tulips, daisies, chrysanthemums, you name it, they were there.

So it wasn’t uncommon for you to spend an afternoon out in the garden sketching different blooms or picking one out in particular to paint.

She’d gotten the bright orange tiger lilies this past spring. They were the first ones you’d chosen when you got home after second year to paint. And then you just didn’t stop. They take up about a quarter of your summer sketchbook.

You couldn’t help it. They were hypnotizing.

“Why that one?”

“It’s my birth flower,” he says, lifting the sleeve on his right, revealing a forearm full of wonderfully inked designs. At the center of it is a tiger lily in matching bright orange hue. “It’s always had significant meaning for me because it’s something that represents me that didn’t come from my lineage, position, or name.”

“Oh.”

You sit there for a moment, stunned, yet to release your gaze from the sight of his arm.

The designs that cover it go all the way up to his elbow and don’t stop.

From an artist's point of view, you’re incredibly impressed with the quality of the work. Intricately placed mixes of black, white and colour. Never one or the other for too long. Strong clean lines. Clear, unmuddied colours. Striking.

Beautiful.

You shouldn’t be so surprised, knowing only the best would be allowed to grace his skin, but still. It was rare you were this taken aback by art. 

The colours chosen on the more visual pieces are gorgeous together. Bright, brilliant, bold. And the few quotes mixed in? Their linework is just… spectacular.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind your staring, twisting his arm to show you some of the designs previously hidden from your sight. 

The quality doesn’t lessen.

It’s after you're done intaking the art on his body that you see the strong muscle underneath it. And you let yourself appreciate the discipline that goes into achieving said strong muscle instead of how it makes your mouth water.

Long distance does not help your libido, and you’re only human.

Not that you would ever cheat. You do have a functioning moral compass, and a person you love that you could never do that too in a hundred years.

It's just that you have working eyes... and it doesn't hurt to look every now and then.

To make sure everything’s still working.

It is.

You bring your line of vision back into his.

“I never thought of my birth flower like that before. My mom keeps an entire garden full of them—only child and all.” Like him, you realize. “They’re one of her favourites too. I guess they hold a similar importance to her as yours does to you.”

Jungkook nods as he asks for your birth flower and you tell him. He says he can understand why your mum would be so fond of them, they’re a beautiful and elegant flower, suiting for you.

“Thanks,” you say, brushing off the subtle compliment.

He holds a hand out for the pad and you give it to him, watching as he turns the pages to another drawing before returning it again.

This one’s of your mother, in the small breakfast nook by a window in your home. It’s drawn with dark pencil lead and painted loosely, a slight blending of the two mediums.

She’s drinking a cup of tea and reading a book. It’s one of your favourite pieces that you’ve done recently because it’s your mom, existing naturally.

Not posed for a portrait, or a painting, or a reference, just her enjoying her morning. You couldn’t help but sketch it quickly when you saw her, adding the bit of colour later.

“Is this her?” he asks, taking it in again as if seeing it for the first time.

“Yeah, that’s our breakfast nook. But she reads there more than eats, always saying the window lets in the perfect amount of light.”

“I see where you get it from.”

“Get what?” but he just smiles at you before switching the topic.

“Who do you draw inspiration from, or look up to? I’d guess but I only know the bigger names.”

You inhale, knowing that this answer is always long for you. You get it semi-regularly—it’s a part of being a visual artist the same way asking a musician who they look up to is.

“Well, there’s a couple bigger names in the mix,” you start, “Van Gogh comes to mind first because his work feels like freedom. Lines placed seemingly wherever, yet so meticulously put at the same time. Some aren’t like that, but even then, they still flow like water. I adore his work,” another breath. “Da Vinci. Always. I stand by that fact that he was a genius and I strive to have an ounce of whatever he did. Michelangelo is another. Enough said. The sheer magnitude he was capable of creating was incredible.

“I have a lot of smaller artists I love too. People I’ve seen at local galleries, people I’ve found online, teachers from past classes. Some not nearly as well known artists from a hundred years ago who broke the barriers of art in their time,” you’re smiling like an idiot as you recall all your favourites and how they inspire you.

“I like the people who create and created just because they could, because they loved to. Because it meant something to them to make something with their hands. I mean, look what their passion got them. They all created for themselves, perfected their craft for themselves and that was enough. A satisfying, fulfilling life. I can only hope to have that. But a part of me wants to be one of the lucky few. The ones who shared their art so that others might not feel so alone. They became some of the greatest artists of all time.”

“Also some of the saddest,” Jungkook adds. But he’s looking at you differently now. You can’t put your finger on it but it’s not bad. Something close to curiosity. Or wonder.

“That just goes hand and hand with being a creative person. I don’t know a single one who doesn’t express their pain through their art.”

“Do you?”

“Of course, but those are just for me.”

“Shame.”

That catches your attention. “Why?”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate for a second before saying, “Because some of the most beautiful things in life are created out of pain.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that.

You know he’s right. People are most likely to bare their soul into their art when they’re hurt, just to get it out. It’s cathartic for them in the same way crying or breaking things is for others.

The most magnificent things can come from that vulnerability, and it isn’t something you ever take lightly when you’re shown.

You’ve heard enough music in your life to know that the most beautiful songs are the most gut wrenching. You’ve seen so many dance performances you know the ones created from anguish and heartbreak are the ones that make for the most delicate movements; the most fragile moments on stage. You've painted enough pieces in grief over your lifetime to know that when someone doesn’t hold back what they’re feeling when creating, it’s the most emotionally provoking when looked at, listened to and experienced by others.

The audience can feel it in a piece. They can feel it in the movement and in the melodies. In the soul of what was created. Of the creator.

“Yes, they are,” you agree, near solemn, and that’s all that needs to be said.

And a moment of comfortable silence later, he hands you back the pad and you pick up your brush to continue with your orchid.

He watches your every stroke. You pretend he’s not there as you add green to the leaves.

“Have you given any thought to our earlier conversation?” he asks. “I know it was only a couple hours ago, so I understand if not.”

Jungkook looks nervous when you wash your brush in the colorful water jar. His face reads like he thinks you’re going to say no, like he’s preparing himself for the rejection but his body language gives him away. He’s wringing his fingers under the table, and his leg won't stop bouncing. 

It makes the corner of your mouth quirk. You thought he’d be better at hiding his tics, being prince and all.

But maybe he feels like he doesn’t have to around you.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the chair, Jungkook feels like he’s sweating buckets. Unknowingly showing every nervous habit he has, but can’t help it. 

He doesn’t tell you that he doesn’t have a lot of friends. Doesn’t have a lot of people he trusts enough to even consider them friends.

Yeah, he’s always surrounded by people. But they were just that. People. He barely knew any of them, and they only ever wanted to be near him for what it said about them, for what being near him could give them.

He doesn’t say how can’t pinpoint it, but that there’s just something different about you. 

So he’s really hoping you say yes.

Because it’s been…a long while…since he’s made a new one.

And it would be really nice too. 

But he’ll respect your decision either way.

Just please say yes.

Mercifully, you end his suffering.

“I have,” a brush stroke—more yellow. You don’t look at him while you speak, focusing instead on what’s in front of you. “That’s actually why I came here. To think. I come here for that a lot, or to get work done. It’s my favourite spot on campus. Secluded, pretty, quiet.”

He silently agrees with every word, but is also impatient. “And?”

You try your best to ignore the stars in his eyes when you look up from your painting.

“And I’ve thought hard about this, Jungkook. I didn’t just once over the idea and choose on a whim, I fleshed out what it would mean for me—what a friendship with you would mean for me, that is,” putting the brush down, you allow your most recent details to dry. “And I have a condition—just one. It's one you may not like, but it’s the only one you’d have to agree to in order for me to agree.”

Jungkook deflates a little, wondering what you could want. Because everyone always wants something. He was just really hoping you’d be different.

His mind runs through all the possible answers he’s used to hearing; money, clout, pictures, gifts, vacations, an audience with his father, donations, sex, power, the list goes on. 

He doesn’t want to think these things about you, but he can’t help it.

After so long… you get used to it.

“What’s the condition?” he asks, bracing himself.

“That nobody knows we’re friends.”

What? He thinks.

“What?” He asks.

You inhale again, wiping your hands on your pants and straightening your back.

Here we go.

“The more I thought about it, the more I realised that being seen with you publicly all the time would not go over well for me and my future. Anyone can be seen with the prince, but one girl over and over? People will talk about me. And it will be about me, because I’ll be the new shiny toy for them to play with. What I’m wearing, if we’re dating, who am I, what do I do, how did we meet, are you interested, blah blah blah,” you flick your hand, cringing at all of it. “I also don’t want my current relationships to change because of it. I don’t want my mother being cornered in a grocery store by a stranger asking about how her daughter knows Prince Jungkook and if she’s willing to give a quote,” you may actually come close to murder if that ever happened. 

“Not to mention the social repercussions. I can deny everything all I want from here into next week, but the second anyone knows we’re friends? I’ll become  either the most popular girl on campus—which is a waking nightmare for me—or the campus leper, which is a close second. And before you say anything to the contrary,” you fix him with a hard stare, unwavering. “You know I’m right.”

He tries to speak but you hold up a finger to show you’re not finished, and take a deep breath. 

Collect yourself YN, sum it up, drive the point home.

“I don’t need nor want that in my life. So if you want me to be in yours, nobody will know except us and whatever royal people need to so I don’t get tackled for being near you.” He cracks a smile at that.

“If that isn’t okay with you, then that’s fine, I understand. It’s probably an ask you’re not used to hearing, but I hope you understand that I have to put myself first and that this is a hard boundary for me. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am and I won’t let anyone get in my way. Not even a prince,” you say. “Not even you.”

Jungkook waits a second this time, making sure you’re finished. Then leans back, deep in thought, eyes still trained on you. 

He’s never been so impressed with anyone in his life. 

It’s been a very long time since he’s met someone with such blatant, hard earned self respect. Such candor and veracity, who spoke to him with confidence, completely unwavered. Let alone a woman. 

He’s so used to the fawning that he’s forgotten he likes it when a girl has backbone. Forgotten he likes a girl who doesn’t bend because he asks her to, who doesn’t need him or anyone to get what she wants. 

She can do it herself.

If he’s completely real with himself, his pants are fitting a little tighter as he remembers. As he continues to stare into your unflinching eyes.

But he dismisses that feeling immediately.

He should have known better. You’ve always been honest with him up until this point, sparing as those moments were. So he shouldn’t be as astonished as he is; you’re the one that has yet to break pattern.

Yuri’d fed him piece after piece of information about you. How you almost never leave your dorm when not in class, how you’re always studying or practicing all hours of the day, how school is your number one priority above all else—she really liked to talk.

He should’ve known you wouldn’t let anyone get in your way—not even him—given how the first time you met, you told him point blank that you would’ve rather been in the library than be forced to see him talk. 

Confident and direct from the very start. Unwavering in your goals. 

Jungkook should have known when you said you had a condition, that you didn’t want anything from him, but privacy for you.

You are young, driven, smart, and beautiful.

He’s never wanted someone to be in his life more.

Fuck.

He shifts in his seat, primarily for comfort, but also to buy a bit more time. You’ve yet to break his gaze.

Yes, it is a strange request, and yes it isn’t one he’s ever gotten before, but he can work with it. He understands your need to not be in the public eye. To not have your image decided by the public for you.

Most importantly, he knows what being seen with him can do to a person via the media. It’s terrifying. They’re like vultures, ready to pick the flesh off of any victim they deem fit.

More than one woman has been slandered off the palace grounds because of it. He also should have considered that before asking, but like he knew—like he knows—you’re smart. There’s no reason why you wouldn’t have thought this through thoroughly enough to weigh upon all of the possible outcomes.  

It was a day full of realizations. On both your parts is what he didn’t know.

So he really, seriously should not be as stunned, surprised and…still partially hard as he is. 

Here you are, staring at him, expecting a reply while his mouth is slightly parted and apparently speechless. It’s rare for him to be given such a harsh truth instead of the immediate yes he is so used to hearing. For someone to have this kind of power over him.

When he’d asked you, Jungkook had just wanted a friend. Someone to talk to, maybe hang out with, share jokes with. Someone to spend time with so his college experience isn’t as lonely as it’s turning out to be.

But where he saw a potential friendship, you saw potential disaster.

Because as much as the title grants him, being Prince isn’t a great thing for everyone around him.

Sometimes it destroys them.

He’s still learning though, that you aren’t just smart. You’re calculated. 

You are a scythe in a field of grass, a gust of wind in a foggy gulf, a sunbeam shining through the clouds on a rainy day.

You think things through to their every possibility, finding the best outcomes and worst fallouts. You did it with his request, and managed to find a solution that works at only a small hindrance to him.

So who the hell would he be if he didn’t take it?

The outside world already knows all of his friends. Granted about 95% of them are men, but that’s what you get when you grow up having the sons of the guards, groundskeepers and chefs around. The other 5% are the girls he met during childhood, the daughters of other royals and titled individuals.

And even then with them, the speculation never stopped. Not after years of platonic friendship. There was always a ‘what if?’ thrown onto them. So he understands that if he starts hanging out with a new girl, the media will go wild. Understands that existing in the same place as you and his social etiquette towards you have the power to make or break you, mentally, socially, even physically.

He understands.

So, everything considered?

Your one condition isn’t so bad after all.

And he has no problems with it.

“Agreed.”

You blink, clearly not expecting him to give in so quickly, or to at least debate it. Your eyebrows scrunch as you sputter, “Just like that?”

He grips the back of the chair, and leans forward again.

“I would never expect you to give anything up or be forced into an unwanted narrative because I asked you to be my friend. Of course I agree. It’ll be nice to have someone I don’t have to worry about the press bashing. To have someone normal, who I can be normal around, and who will, clearly, call me out on my shit or set me straight when I need it. So yeah,” he sucks a tooth, “Just like that.”

You flinch a little at his words. “Wait I lied, I have one more condition.”

He’s intrigued, especially considering the look on your face. “Go for it.”

“You can’t throw me in a dungeon for calling you out. My safety needs to be assured for any and all potential verbal ass whoopings you may receive in the future.”  

A full, loud cackle sounds from Jungkook, eyes crinkling as he says, “Deal.” And holds out his hand.

“Deal,” you say, shaking it and laughing with him. Because you know there aren’t any dungeons in the palace.

And somehow, you know that even if there were, he still wouldn’t.

Chapter Four: Sunday Nights and Lost Memories

A/N 2: we do be getting into though.

A/N 3: I know I’m jumping ahead here but I’m excited for you guys to read chapter 4, it’s one of my favourites so far!

<- Back

[padfootscoldleathers]

i'll leave (a light on) ch.4

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3

"No."

Sirius comes back into the diner with the biggest Cheshire grin and Minerva immediately knew she wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. 

Sirius, in all his too early energy, word-vomits all over Minnie's morning mud brain. "Sirius it is yet 10 in the morning. I haven't had my," she mutters then yawns, "pancakes yet."

One thing everyone should know about Minnie is that she's the furthest thing from a coffee person. In fact she pledged to herself at 15 years old that she would never drink 'The Mud Water' as she calls it. Why? Well, it happened after a very poor encounter with the very dreaded 'coffee breath' which has apparently scarred her for life. 

No, Minnie is something else entirely. She is a pancake girl which means no pancakes = no happy. All to say, she's a fair bit less tolerable in the morning without the pancakes. "Well I thought it was best I run it by you, instead of having Mary pop up on stage at the end of the concert without rehearsals." Minerva hums to herself and that's when the waiter shows up with her and Mary's stack of gorgeously fluffy pancakes and Minnie's eyes light up. 

Sirius sighs, "I wish I were a bit more like you, Minnie. Oh, to wake up and be excited about pancakes." 

"Life's simplicities, Sirius." Mary chimes in cutting into her pancakes. 

"So," Minnie starts, peppier than a minute ago, "Your bright idea is to have Mary perform an 'outro' song at the concerts in LA?" Sirius hums in confirmation. Minnie rolls her eyes 'cause it's entirely on brand for him to be so spontaneous and spring this on her. They both watch her face as the clogs turn in her mind.

"I'm not all so concerned with the explicitness of the song as I am with whether or not Mary's prepared to perform. You two might also have to accept the very real possibility that the music won't be live. The backup band might not be able to nail the song in the 3 days before the last concert so the music might end up playing from the speakers.” It's a pretty short notice so while it's not the best it could be, they still nod along in agreement. "Before all of that there's the most important question: Can you perform, Mary?"

"I've done the same training Sirius does for the tour. I can handle it, my leg shouldn’t and won’t cause any issues. I might not be fit right now to run the 2 hour show Sirius does but I'm capable, Minnie. I can do this."

Minnie drops her fork and smirks. "No doubt, but I meant whether or not you'll impress. Me, that is. It's going to be a lot of organising but it could work." Mary and Sirius playfully smack each other's arms in excitement and a little disbelief.

Minnie then poses the next important question, "Your costume?" Sirius' eyes widen 'cause he genuinely, kind of, completely forgot about that. He curses under his breath but Mary is all smiles and aces up her sleeves.

"I've got that one covered." 

"Well, then," Mary, Peter, Sirius, Marlene and Dorcas all raise a bit off their seats in the booth crowded around Minnie. "I will see you at soundcheck." 

Screeches fill the diner and the waitress walks up hips swinging with their breakfast, "Well, y'all rowdy this morning. Something good happen?"

"Something great," Marlene purrs from the end of the booth. She takes the plates from Jolene's hands and places them on the table. "Mavis, our little songbird here, is going to perform for us at our concert." Jolene spins around to the counter to pick up another tray filled with their breakfast and comes right back. "Oh, ain't that wonderful?" Marls replies back in her near-perfect southern accent, "Ain't it just?" 

"Speaking of, Jolene, love, do you serve piña coladas here?" Marls asks with a big smile. "Just might." Marlene winks at her before she turns to head back to the kitchen. 

"Virgins, please." Minnie calls out and Jolene nods. 

Kingsley reaches over from his singular booth, because he likes mornings to himself, and smacks Marlene on the back of her head. "Stop flirting with the waitress before she sues you for harassment." He says while leaning over into their booth. 

"Why on earth would she? I'm so charming." She grins up at him. Kingsley takes barely a glance at her before clearing his throat, "Pest control," he smiles sweetly gesturing at Minnie and Dorcas. "If you wouldn't mind collecting your drooling toddler in aisle 1." Marlene mutters something that sounds like 'bitch' and starts munching.

"Look," Marlene starts waving her fork around pointing at her friends around the table. "I'm twenty-three. Age is just a number." Her eyebrows drop instantly and Marls whips her head back when she hears Kingsley scoff from his booth behind her. When she turns back Minnie's holding a hand up for a pause so she can finish chewing. "And homicide is just a dare then." Marlene locks eyes with her for a long minute before concluding with, "Maybe." Mary grunts in agreement. 

"Seconded." Sirius chokes out through his mouth full of pancakes. Marlene sticks her neck out over the table to get a good angle at Sirius' face. Everyone is looking at Sirius now and he's frozen like he's been caught red-handed. "What?" Marls tucks her lips in to keep from laughing at his stuffed chipmunk cheeks. "You lot are missing my point. Which is, that flirting is a harmless ego booster and in my heart of hearts, I see nothing wr-"

"What heart?" Marlene reaches an arm past Mary to hit the back of Sirius' head. He rubs the back of his head but stays steady nailing in his coffin. 

"I'm just saying." He puts his palm up. "You're no hagfish."

"I'm not, but you're surely looking the part and," she opens Mary's pocket watch necklace to check the time, "Half past 10 is no hour of morning," she drops the posh accent, "to be pushing my buttons." 

"Got a mute?" Peter and Mary say at the same time with a string of bubbly laughter following. 

"It's not a button but I'm sure they'll plug your mouths just fine," Marls pulls out her best cheshire grin as Jolene walks up with their virgin piña coladas. She serves the drinks and Marlene asks, "Do you want a wand or a rabbit?" 

Minnie's laugh is big and genuine. Sirius and Mary are choking, Peter's wearing a look somewhere between shocked and impressed. Dorcas has her head down but is grinning nonetheless. Everything halts though and all eyes are locked on Jolene when she chimes in with, "I say both." She locks eyes with Dorcas and eyes her from head to toe but doesn't look up again before walking off. 

The entire table is silent until Jolene closes the kitchen door behind her. They all exchange looks but the first one to speak is Kingsley who, once again, leans over the edge between the two booths and whispers, "Might I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"

"Oh, piss off, Kingsley. Don't you have a morning appointment with misery?" 

"Harsh world being mediocre, is it?" 

"Not nearly as much as your morning rank. Honestly." Marls mutters and covers Kingsley's face with the spread of her hand and pushes him back into his own booth. 

Peter hums for a minute. "Ironic or iconic – what do we think?" 

"Both." Sirius chimes in. "Both is good."

Marlene licks the syrup off her fork and stabs it in the air at the two of them. "Do not make me stab you." She keeps eating and mutters under her breath, "I'd have to get up."

Dorcas squeezes Marlene's legs between her own. They've been entangled under the table the entire time. Marls gets up from her seat at the end of the booth and leans down to plant a sticky sweet kiss on Cas' lips then sits right back down. 

They finish up, pay the bill and leave Jolene a big fat tip. Peter carries Mary out to the bus this time, her prosthetic still inside. Sirius trails behind his closest friends and chosen family, most of them at least. He watches their happiness and feels for a second that it's not absent from him. 

For the next couple hours between board games and entertainment, snack stops, reminiscing memories and making new ones, just being with his friends makes Sirius feel that there's still a light on somewhere. It seems small in his despair but it's there, and that's all that really matters.

★

After 17 hours filled with highways and concrete jungles, food stops, naps and 'Are we there yet?’s Kingsley pulls the tour bus up to the hotel entrance with a limousine stop. It's nearly 7am and they're filing out the bus with their go-bags, yawning and trailing Minnie like a brood of ducklings. Dorcas walks three-legged with Mary and they're half asleep on their feet. Marlene collapses in a lounge chair next to Sirius and Peter is a yawning, sleepy mess hugging Minnie's arm.

Minnie gets the keycards and herds her bundle of kids, plus Kingsley into the lift. When they exit, they all trail behind her as she walks the hall looking for their rooms and hands Kingsley the key for their double room. Then turns to open the door directly across from the two of them and holds it open for her little ones still mindlessly following behind in their pajamas.

"Wait," she says as she closes the door to the room. Effectively stopping Marlene seconds from face planting into one of the queen beds with Peter on her heels. "We leave for sound check in four hours, lunch after, then you're all free to go sightseeing if you want to. Or most likely, come back here and knock out, but if you're interested we can go to a sneak preview tonight."

They all look at her confused and it might be the collective drowsiness in the room. "What's that?" Sirius murmurs looking up at Minnie with squinted eyes from where he's wrapped himself around her.

"It's a special showcasing, in our case a movie, where you can watch it before it's available to the public. You never know what you might end up seeing though." They yawn out okay’s and Minnie walks Sirius over to the queen bed with Mary already bundled up and slides him in. They might all be 20-somethings, but they're really just kids so she makes sure to kiss them each on the crowns of their heads before she walks out. It's not as if they'll ever know – they're all dead to the world anyway.

Before she forgets, Minnie takes a second to dig into her shiny, red handbag and pulls out her speaker. Then she tells Alexa to wake her up in four hours to You Give Love A Bad Name by Bon Jovi. She waits for confirmation, sets the speaker to max volume, puts it on the coffee table and walks out of the room.

Minerva spends the next two lovingly child free hours in the spa which turns into a bit of a nap on the massage table. When spa time's over, she drowsily walks back to her hotel room for a power nap. An hour and a half later, rested and relaxed, feeling better than she has in a while, after some me-time – she takes her very sweet time. Gently massages face wash onto her face, rinses it off, rubs in day cream in nice slow circles. Finds the softest navy sweater and pulls it on because it's cold and rainy outside; perfect sweater weather. Minnie pulls and twists her curls to pin them with her cherry claw clip, then goes to sit and watch whatever Kingsley has on the TV. She sits there eating his room service ice cream and watches Adventure Time.

After a little while she taps Kingsley to tell him she's leaving. Minnie steps into the hallway and calls a car before sliding on her navy blue headphones. She holds the keycard over the scanner and pushes the door open. When she walks into the batcave, she can't see shit. Regardless, she gets comfy on the sofa in the corner of the room and waits.

Then the alarm goes off shatteringly loud, not that she really hears it. They all jump out of their skin like they've shed their skeletons. Sirius actually knocks his head on the dresser on his way to the floor and Marlene is already halfway there with the way she sleeps. Mary and Peter immediately launch out of the bed straight to their feet and jump straight into a loop of I'm up!

Dorcas is still and unsurprisingly fast asleep but that must be conditioning. Minnie cuts the alarm and the music stops. She sets Mary and Peter to sit down as she passes by to check if Sirius' victorian skull is bleeding and he has a concussion. Once she sees he's fine and dramatic as usual she sits him next to Mary and Peter. Then she scoops up Marlene with the ease of a former athlete and sits her down to complete her little row of drowsy ducklings.

Dorcas is still asleep so she reaches into her shiny, cherry red purse and pulls out a little vial. Minnie reaches over and sprays Dorcas in the face which is when she finally jumps out of bed, scared out of her skin like the rest of them. She swipes a hand over her cheek and shakes it out like there's something disgusting on her face.

"I am no hippo."

"Could never be, exhibit A: that wonderful articulation."

Minnie then pulls her off the bed and sits her next to Marlene. Then sprays the rest of them with very icy water and rubs it into their skin to wake them up. She fixes their hair and then is off to soundcheck with a trail of little guys in front of her. It's still a challenge to herd them all off the bed, to the elevator and through the lobby and it does not go without bumps and bruises. Minnie holds the car door open and they file in one by one. Only then, she shuts it and hops in the shotgun. And only sometimes does she feel like an alternate version of Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

On the drive to the stadium Minerva stares out the window trying to come up with something to ease her vague sadness. It’s not necessarily storming but it's still overcast and set to rain for the rest of the day. She thinks about how a wet show tomorrow night would be epic for Mary's new single then worries if she'll be nursing a sick Sirius after. Speaking of, she looks in the rearview only to see him and Mary passed out again. 

She thinks of Poppy.

idk if any of you were expecting my mysterious minnie x poppy agenda. yeah. theres a lot going on there actually. i might never unpack it & just leave you to your imaginations. ALSO IM SO SORRY?? i did NOT notice it's been 2 weeks. anyway, munch up and please tell me if you want to be added/removed from the taglist

@moonyswarmsweaters @sspadfoot @thingthatoncewastruee @probs-reading @cheekyboybeth

@starving-marauder-lover @yourlocalbadgerscales @taleofapart-timepoet @mirrs-ball @tea-blankets-andstars

@where-is-vivian @amberlink @wastingawayinmyroom @ashes-to-ashesxx @percabeth-trash

@equippedtolove @moon-girl88 @jamespotterbbg @drunktayloratthevmas @labyrinthhofmymind

@s0ggyguts @nyx-taylors-version @will-vs-the-homo-sapiens-adgenda

[arcadiabaytornado]

Who are your top 10 misunderstood characters from Life is Strange and Telltale’s The Walking Dead and why?

Kate (LIS) - Kate isn't misunderstood the same way Rachel and Chloe are, but I do think she's often portrayed as much more feeble then she actually is. For example: Kate stands for herself plenty in game. If you tell her to wait for more proof, she'll send Max this text. "Max. Sorry to have bothered you by asking for your advice. I guess I shouldn't do anything but let people enjoy my video all over the world." She'll also bluntly confront Max if you don't intervene when David's in her face. Don't get me wrong, Kate IS an utter sweetheart, but she's not a doormat either. She has a bit of a bite on multiple occasions.

Max (LIS) - Max is similar to Kate for me. I think she's often portrayed as much more feebly then she is. Some people treat her like she's a ...well...doe but she has a very strong bite to her! I mean, she's back with Chloe for 48 hours at most and she pulls a gun on Frank and maybe pulls the trigger. Also, if you don't side with Chloe for a choice, Max is very sassy about Chloe's objections. Chloe will say something like: "If you only you told David it was your joint," and Max will go "Oh, sorry, I was to busy saving your life. 🙄" Max is a very strong character, so I'm shocked that a lot of people see her as being super delicate. She's the furthest thing from a doormat.

More Undercut

Rachel (LIS) - Rachel deserves better. I can't even really get into this fully on this post because I want to keep my reasons shortish (well...short for me) but for a very quick and not detailed recap of my thoughts. 1. We don't even know if she cheated on Chloe, so, no, she's not the devil for sleeping with Frank. 2. Rachel is manipulative to a certain degree, but there's no indicator that she was an evil serpent women who only spoke in lies and manipulation. 3. There's plenty of in game evidence that she cared about Chloe. We can argue all day about whether she was ever in love with Chloe or not, but there's more than enough to back up that she at least cared for her.

Chloe - I'm going to make short points with her like I did with Rachel because this another topic I could make a full rant about. 1. She is mean, but some people really exaggerate the extent of it. 2. She's not evil for being mad that her best friend who ghosted her figured out how to work a phone when Kate called. 3. She's not a bitch for not liking her Step Father who is abusive to her. 4. She's not terrible for having a tense relationship with her Mother, who made it very clear that David is more than important than her. 5. Women are allowed to be flawed.

Ryan (LIS TC) - I will defend Ryan until the day I die. I know it isn't his best moment if he doesn't believe Alex at the end...but of course he doesn't believe Alex in all the endings?? Jed is his FATHER. A father he's close with and has been told his entire life is a hero. Then Alex (rightfully) bursts in and pops his bubble, and in the moment, he doesn't handle that well unless there's a lot of confirmation that his loving father is actually a hidden monster. And yes, I know that Steph backs up Alex no matter what...but Jed isn't her Dad, and she isn't as connected to the town, or it's stories, as deeply as Ryan is. She loses way less if Alex is telling the truth, while Alex's (rightful) honesty destroys what's left of Ryan's family after he already lost his Mother.

Violet (TWDG) - I've always thought it was weird how upset people got when Vi betrayed Clem in the cells. First off...Clem betrayed her first?? Vi spent the entire game defending Clem when no one else would. When AJ killed Marlon she stood in front of them with a cleaver to protect them from the other kids. When everyone voted to kick Clem and AJ out, she was the one shouting from the rooftops that it was unfair. When Clem and AJ came back, she was the one who insured that they could stay. And yet, when Clem saw her in danger, she chose not to save her. It's not shocking that she feels so upset, but it did shock me how fans reacted to it, and I'm someone who saved and romanced Louis! I mean...how unfair is a betrayal really if they stab you with the same knife you stuck in their back?

Louis (TWDG) - It's crazy how much of Ryan's paragraph I could apply to Louis. Of course he gets mad when Clem's murder toddler, who has never been taught restraint, puts a bullet in his best friends head. Marlon had given up. The gun was no longer in his hands. Clem had it handled peacefully, and then the situation ended with a bullet. I totally understand why he was mad, and I even understand why he wanted them to leave and not come back. He was mourning, and his pain is made even worse if you had Clem appeal to him because he helped disarm Marlon and that led to his death. So, in other words, I think his rage in episode 2 is very understandable. Plus, he moves on from his anger and apologizes for kicking them out in...Episode 2. The same episode the anger starts.

Sarah (TWDG) - People complain about her being a burden so much, but honestly that's Carlos's fault. She never really got a chance to be a survivor in the apocalypse because she was sheltered non-stop, and there's multiple moments that imply that she could have made it if things were different. I don't FULLY blame Carlos for sheltering her since I understand wanting your child to grow up in peace instead of surrounded by horror...but he really screwed her over. I think people should be way harsher on him than her. Sarah was doing her best. Carlos was not.

Ben (TWDG) - In the same manner as Sarah, people often complain that he's a burden. And...he kinda is, but also he's also literally sixteen years old. He makes bad choices because he's naive, not because he's malicious. Also, I know he indirectly got Duck and Katjaa killed, but the bandits were threatening to kill EVERYONE in the group if he didn't slip medicine to them. What Ben did got Katjaa and Duck killed, but who's to say the bandits wouldn't have kept their word and killed the entire group if he had refused. He was put in a no win situation, and honestly I just so much pity for him. I'm glad my Lee looks out for him.

Jane (TWDG) - Jane is...weird because she is a bad person but also some people act like she never cared about Clem and had entirely selfish motivations. She cared about Clem enough to teach her how to survive, which is something she never bothered to do with Sarah, even though she needed a mentor much more than Clem. And for as much as I disagree with her of philosophy of "never trust anyone, people are bad," I do think she was genuinely trying to help and giving what she thought was good advice. She also comes back and saves the group during the shoot out for Clem's sake, which proves that her motivations aren't entirely selfish...just mostly.

[asmutwriter]

Just A Woman (Part 1 Section 2)

DESCRIPTION: You spend the day with the Bridgertons. Getting to know one of them just that little it better

A/N - I have condensed partr 1 (which you can find here) into 4 smaller chunks so that you can have a better reader experience

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

WORD COUNT: 1939

From beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, time period sexism

DISCLAIMERS

- I wrote this in my knowledge of sex workers and I am truly sorry if I got it wrong and/or is offensive, that is not what I wanted to do and I’m sorry if that is the case

-  This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

Night comes and goes, and so does the morning. You all have lunch together, then early the Saturday afternoon you see Eloise reading. You read it over her shoulder. “May I help you?” she asks as you shake your head

“Just bored. I want to do something” just as Johns mother walks into the room, John holding her arm. She smiles at you

“You could sing for us some more my dear if you are bored”

“Oh I don’t think people want to hear my voice anymore” she laughs 

“Sing my dear. I do not care what the others think of your voice. I find it divine and want to hear more” you nod and look at the now several pairs of eyes on you. 

“As you wish” you go over to the piano and start playing. Typically, you go for a slow love song. They all clap afterwards. Eloise looks at you 

“Why do you always sing about love and romance?”

“It’s the easiest thing to think of on the spot”

“I wish you would change it up a bit”

“Oh. Is that a challenge?” she laughs

“I doubt you would be able to think of one” she scoffs “when I can find a woman who doesn’t want marriage” you bite your lip anxiously. You stand up and go in front of her, holding your hand out for her to take. “What?”

“You are joining me. You wanted something different did you not?” she nods “then take my hand and trust me” she laughs slightly, but intrigued she take your outstretched hand. You look at her as you lift your skirt slightly, so she can easily see your feet. You hear Violet go to say something but you notice John shake his head. She lifts her skirt up to, just above the ankles. “Foot forward. Heal to the floor” you show her, as she copies. “Hit twice, then go back and hit your toes to the floor twice” you show her as she copies. You show her the rest of the dance, she copies as best she can. “Now turn to me and dance down the length of the room, hands pressed to each other” she nods and does as you do. 

“I don’t believe you’ve actually done this to a song you’ve made up” you raise an eyebrow to her, going over to a little table you hit the top, creating a rhythmical thudding noise. Johns mother smiles and does the same on a table near her as you stand and do the dance. Once getting to the other end you start to sing, repeating the dance. Going back to her, you take her hand, doing the dance with her, nodding and smiling at her as she manages to keep up. After the dance you stop, bowing to each other and smiling

“I hope you enjoyed that. I and my friends have a full dance routine to that song. It looks cool when we all do it”

“Are they coming to the dance tomorrow?” Daphne speaks up. You shake your head

“Unfortunately no. It’d be unfair to only invite one of them but I think only one is old enough to go to a dance” she nods as Johns mother turns to the woman as they begin discussing tomorrow’s ball. You bite the nail of your thumb as you suddenly realise you will be likely required to dance in a more proper fashion and you only tend to do more… eccentric dancing so you need to brush up on your more posh dances.

So, when it gets late at night you go into the drawing room. It is the furthest away from the bedrooms so if you knock something over or fall over yourself you’ll be less likely to wake the family here. You practice the steps of your feet, counting out loud the numbers. “One two step one two step and spin. One two step one two step and spin” you repeat. “And spin, spin, spin, spi- holy fuck” you get made jump as you see Benedict standing in the doorway. You place your hand over your heart “you scared me half to death” he chuckles

“Apologies miss. I didn’t mean to” he pauses a moment “You’re pretty good at dancing too”

“Thank you. It’s not my best talent but it’s one of them”

“Where did you learn?” you run your hand through your hair 

“I umm, I taught myself actually. I would always picture myself at fancy balls or parties”

“Have you never been to a ball before?”

“No. Unfortunately not. Not ones that I can dance to. I snuck into a couple before, weddings mainly. Get free food and drinks that way. But I couldn’t dance at those ones as I didn’t want to bring attention to myself” he nods

“You’ve not danced with anyone then, have you?” you avert his eyes

“Is it really that obvious?” he laughs and walks over to you

“I can only tell because your hands are in the wrong places” he takes your hand, placing it on his shoulder, taking your other one in his as he places his hand on your waist “you need to have a more relaxed frame. Yours is up to high” you nod as he smiles at you “Now count again” you nod as he takes the lead, surprising yourself with the fact you don’t tread on his toes at all. Once you both find a rhythm your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Why are you up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Came down for a drink and I heard you counting in here”

“So you aren’t just stalking me?” he laughs

“I’m going to spin you, ok?” you nod as he slowly spins you under his arm, pulling you back into the dance. “Where did you and John really meet?”

“What do you mean?”

“Considering how long he’s been talking about meeting this amazing woman you are not quite what any of us expected. Plus, he doesn’t seem to be fully attached to you. You seem to be like strangers to each other. Makes me think you don’t know each other very well”

“I thought your sister was meant to be the smart one of the group?” he laughs

“Is that meant as a compliment or an insult?” you smile at him as he spins you again

“A compliment. I’m not sure who I’m allowed to tell though so if I tell you then you have to keep it a secret”

“Promise”

“Pinkie promise” you keep the dance up but move the hand that’s holding his upwards, holding your pinkie finger near him. He nods and takes your finger with his

“I promise” you smile and go back to taking his hand and dancing.

“He came into my work one night and asked me to be his female friend for this weekend” he raises his eyebrows at you slightly

“You work?” you nod and avoid his eyes. 

“Got any more dances you think I need to know about before tomorrow?” you say as you change the subject

“None that I can think of. You’re good considering you’ve never danced with anyone before”

“Will I need to know the quick paced ones?”

“Possibly?”

“I might just sit those ones out if they are a part of the event” he nods

“Might be for the best” you move away from him, letting your arms fall to your sides as you look him in the eyes as your own dart to his lips for a second, and then look away. You feel his eyes scan over your body quickly before he stretches and looks away from you. 

“Considering how late it is, I’m really not tired” he nods in agreement

“No neither am I” you look at the clock in the room

“Fuck it’s nearly 2am” he laughs slightly. “What?” you look at him

“I’m not used to such words falling from the mouth of a woman who looks so well dressed” you laugh

“I think I’ve done pretty well to not have vulgar language in front of your family though. One of the few things John said to me was to not swear” he nods as he watches you go over to the bookshelf in the room. “I love the book selection this house has” Picking one out you flick through the pages. You let out an annoyed groan as you put it back

“All of them except that one I presume?” you nod as he comes to stand by you

“I dislike romances”

“Why?”

“They are an awful representation of a woman and how she thinks” he furrows his brows as he looks at you

“I would’ve thought they are quite accurate” you laugh and turn to look at him, seeing his soft eyes contrast the slight irritation of the rest of his face “doesn’t everyone want love?”

“Yes. But it isn’t always possible. Most of the time woman and men marry for convenience, not love. It gives girls a terrible idea of how their adult life could look like when the reality is far worse” you see his brow go to normal again as he watches the candlelight dance on your skin. “I always dreamed I’d marry a handsome prince. That a man would meet me one day and he would fall in love with me and we’d live happily ever after in a castle. I realised that men don’t want anyone who doesn’t have anything to offer” you lightly touch the spine of the book you had just held in your hand “men want an untouched woman who’s main purpose is to sit still, look pretty and have children. Not one with a lot to say and an intelligent mind”

“You have a very biased opinion of love”

“Have you ever been in love?” he shakes his head 

“No. I’ve liked people but never loved anyone. Have you ever been in love?” 

“No I don’t suppose I have. At least not in the ways that books describe it as. I loved my friend and I love her children but that is a platonic love” he nods

“What about your parents?” you laugh slightly

“I don’t have any parents. I did have someone who looked after me but she died about 4 years ago” you see him watching you out of the corner of your eye. “Sorry. Telling you my whole sob story which you probably don’t care about”

“No. Please go on. So long as you are ok talking about it” you nod slightly. He hesitates at first before he takes your hand as a way to comfort you 

“There’s not really much else to say. I now live with her children and look after them” you chuckle slightly as you turn to face him, meeting his eyes in the low light of the room. Your breath catches slightly as you take a few seconds to take in his features. You mentally shake yourself and look away, but subconsciously tighten your hand around his. He raises an eyebrow to you

“Are you ok?” you nod

“Yeah. Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he chuckles slightly

“You seem nervous is all?”

“Yeah. I’m nervous about the ball tomorrow” he smiles at you

“You will be fine” he brushes a hair behind your ear, watching your cheeks turn red. “It is late. We should be off to bed” you nod

“Goodnight Mr Bridgerton” you say as you walk calmly to your room. You get in and shut the door, placing your back against the cold wood you smile to yourself and get into bed. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[agerexmlmboys]

Ranking BG3 Boys From Least to Most Bratty

Gale:

Is the furthest thing from a brat. He regresses to a sweet, sensible 6/7 year old.

Is the perfect angel for his caregiver and loves to be helpful. He understands quiet time and, if given a book or some toys, he's fine. He also makes for a good big brother to other littles, especially needy or brattier littles.

Would cry if he vaguely thought he was doing something that would upset his papa/mama. He has cried over thinking he broke the rules only to be told he hasn't done anything wrong.

Is very good with following rules and will ask for permission before doing anything, no matter how unnecessary it may be.

He loves bedtime and will go down only if he gets to read a story with you, and Tara curled up next to him.

Wyll:

He is also an absolute angel but also has a bit of a bratty side. Is a helpful little for his caretaker and lives to be told he's a good boy. He regresses to an age of aboyt 4-7

Can be a very picky eater and has to be coaxed into eating his veggies. Has to be goven extra minutes after bedtime in return for eating his veggies.

Stubbornness is his worst trait as a little. If he does or doesn't want to do something, his caregiver will definitely know.

Cries when he is called a naughty boy for doing something bad and will spend all of his time trying to get his caregiver to call him a good boy.

Bedtime is surprisingly easy. Being the son of a duke does mean that he's a tad spoiled when it comes to where he sleeps. If the bed isn't up to his liking he will be fussy.

Astarion:

Is definitely a brat, but he can be less of a brat given time. His regression age is between 2 and 3.

Will definitely cry if he doesn't get his way or gets dirty. He only wants his mama/papa to make everything perfect for him.

He gets very hungry and is very food oriented as a little. It's almost never enough and his constant hunger leads to constant crankiness.

His brattiness is only put in check with the threat of a time out, which will send him into a spiral, which then ends up with him sucking his thumb in his caregiver's lap because he's scared of time out.

He either goes out like a light when put down, or he's throwing a tantrum about going to bed. The latter scenario ends in Astarion tiring himself out.

Rolan:

Is a bigger brat than Astarion, regresses to an age of about 4/5.

He doesn't eat his veggies unless forced, and he definitely tries to eat cookies before dinner.

He will give the sweet puppy dog face, and when he looks at his caregiver with those eyes he normally gets what he wants.

Will ask to read magic tomes with his papa/mama and Gale so he can practice magic. Regressed Rolan and regressed Gale have a big bro/little bro dynamic with Rolan learning from his cool older bro, that is the literal Wizard of Waterdeep and Mystra's chosen. Honestly, it's those moments with Gale that teach him to be less bratty.

Bedtime is met with some resistance. But with some warm milk and a nice bedtime story, along with Gale, he would be out like a light.

Gortash:

Is literally a brat from hell. No seriously blame Raphael for his distinct lack of child rearing, which has now culminated in the brat that is Enver Gortash. He regresses to the age of a 2 year old.

At first, one would think he was a very demure, very mindful little. Especially in public where he is always on his best behavior.

He will pout, scream, and throw a tantrum if he doesn't get his way. His favorite word is definitely no.

All that being said, he does understand when he's trying his luck if his caregiver gives him a stern look or worse raises their tone at him. In which case, he either acts up or starts crying, saying he'll be good.

Bedtime is a nightmare. This boy will not go to sleep unless you're directly holding him and reading him a story. Otherwise, he will try to get out of bed to continue play time. But when he sleeps, he looks so peaceful and cute.

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Burn The Ships (4/?)

A HUGE THANK YOU TO @snowbellewells FOR THIS INCREDIBLE ART.

THIS IS/WILL BE MATURE.

1 | 2 | 3 | AO3 | 5 | ???

Tagging: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert(let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

A slightly hysterical laugh slipped out before Emma could stop it. Captain Hook of "Beware the Captain" fame was her mate. He was the one predator that sent fear through the pack of twisted, cruel wolves who surrounded Pan. She had imagined him to be terrifying, more unstable and dangerous than the wolf she just escaped. Early in her captivity, she'd considered trying to contact him, but Pan's wolves were too loyal to him to allow her to slip any notes out. She had pictured a terrible, crazed monster, more menacing each time his visage crossed her mind. 

The man before her was stunning. He was beautiful rather than barbaric. The leathers he wore made her stomach clench, but not with fear. Although, she probably should not have threatened him on his ship, in front of his crew. 

“Sorry for all the…,” she gestured as trying to find a way to indicate their entire interaction up to this moment. She blew out a breath somewhere between exasperation and humour. “Could we possibly forget every moment leading up to this?”

“I could live hundreds of lifetimes and still remember in perfect clarity the sight of you storming the deck in my shirt, love. It is not a memory from which I am willing to part.”

When she didn’t seem convinced, he continued, his voice soft and encouraging. “It is a beautiful thing, Swan, to be able to fight after being a captive of that little demon.”

Emma wasn't sure how to respond to that. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment and she felt exposed in a way she wasn't expecting. Hook, no, she remembered now that he'd introduced himself as Killian. Killian even seemed a bit proud of her. But, what did he see in the woman standing before him that would make him feel anything akin to pride? And, why did Emma fear she could only disappoint him?

"I didn't have a plan, I just knew I could not go back."

"I understand.” And the pain behind his eyes more than his words made it clear that he did know what it was like to be held against his will, subjected to someone else's whims. She had the strongest impulse to comfort him in that moment. But, she wasn't sure how. Or if it was something he would welcome. Did he want a mate? Even if he did want a mate, she didn't know that he wanted her to be it. Did she want a mate? What did they do next? Knowing they were mates did not make them any less of strangers.

"Would you join me back in the cabin to discuss things privately?" He gave her a shy smile and gestured toward the hatch she had previously stormed out of. "There's rum?"

"Yeah, rum would be great." Perhaps it would ease her nerves and help her wrap her mind around this new reality. 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§

Emma sat a bit awkwardly on the edge of the bed. Killian leaned comfortably against the furthest wall, clearly granting her all the space he possibly could in such tight quarters. She noted that he’d ensured she was closer to the door and the ladder and was touched by his physical reminder that she was not being held here and could leave when she liked. Granted, her only escape would land her in the hands of a furious and unhinged wolf, but she appreciated having a choice in her circumstances all the same. 

“Why are you here?” Emma asked suddenly. 

“It’s my ship,” Killian answered with an amused smile tugging at his lips. He continued, the smile turning bitter, “I had to finish a contract I…inherited from my father.��

Emma’s heart broke for him, but he did not appear to want her to try to soften the hurt in those few words. Instead, she gave him something she knew he wanted, “My ex traded me to pay off his debt to Pan.”

Anger turned his eyes to ice in an instant and a growl rumbled through him that sent chills up her spine. The strength of his emotion loosened his control enough that she felt his wolf. The brief contact was intense. She could feel the heat of his anger and hear the violence he was planning for her self-serving ex before Killian snapped the leash back on his control. “Sorry, the telepathy bit is going to take some adjustment. I don’t want to force you into any decisions, but I want you to know that I am not planning to reject our bond unless we agree that is the right thing for us both.”

“I don’t want to make any decisions until we are out of this nightmare place and we know each other better.” 

“I look forward to getting to know you, Swan. As for the other, I have a plan.” He pulled out a vial of black liquid from his pocket, his expression serious as he crossed to her and dropped it into her palm. 

She tried to focus on the strange liquid, but their sudden nearness consumed her attention. Her gaze was on the vial in her hand, but her thoughts were of pulling him into her, falling back onto his bed, and claiming his lips with hers as his weight pinned her to the mattress. 

“Swan.” Her name was a plea and a warning. She looked up at his face- his eyes burned with desire for her and his jaw was clenched tight. She should probably feel embarrassed that she’d blasted her daydream at him, but his reaction only excited her further. She leaned toward him, eyes on his lips, and slid her hand into the pocket of his leather breeches, depositing the vial and dragging her hand out slowly, suggestively.  

“Swan?” Killian’s voice was a broken whisper. 

She grabbed his coat and kissed him greedily. Without hesitation, he kissed her back just as hungrily. His hand cradled her head reverently as his tongue licked and explored, his hook was a gentle pressure against her hip. In his kiss were the promise of safety and the hint of an unfathomable love that was, somehow, insanely, directed at her. She was sure she hadn’t earned such devotion. Hell, she’d just tried to steal his ship. But at this glimpse of him, of his love, she knew she wanted it and feared it all. She poured her desire into her kisses, devouring him as he teased and tasted her.

He broke away, his head pressed against hers, as they gasped for air. 

“Emma,” he breathed, “that was…”

“I know,” she smiled. His answering smile was a beautiful thing. He brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. 

“I want to keep doing this, I do,” Killian murmured, “but, before we do, I need to be sure we aren’t rushing into this. I want this, you, but not as a one-time thing when you’ve just escaped Pan. I want to be with you when you know you want to be with me.”

“I…,” Emma started to say that she did want him. The taste she had of him was everything and she wanted more. But, it wasn’t fair for her to pretend she was doing more than reacting to physical needs. She could not promise him anything beyond this moment. She could not answer the deep well of love that she felt in him, yet. She needed time to know him, simply being his mate was not enough for her to let down her walls and let him into her heart. 

“Ah, I see,” Killian said sadly, kissing her cheek and stepping back from her reach. “Whenever you’re ready, love.” 

“I am sorry, Killian.” 

“No need, Swan.” Killian pulled the vial from his pocket and held it up, between them, “This is squid ink. It will strip Pan of his powers for long enough for me to make one strike against him. His pack of lost wolves will likely be here tomorrow to get back what he believes I have stolen from him. My crew is prepared for a fight, but Pan is mine to kill. And, this is how I do it.”

“The fight is over me. You have to let me fight with your pack.” 

Killian studied her face intently, “If you wish it, so it shall be.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“No, thank you for everything.” 

“Everything I have to give is yours, mate,” Killian answered. Then, he went on deck to prepare his crew for the upcoming battle.

[mojo-is-rising]

Hi!

This is your Secret Santa for the OLNF SS event :) Do you mind telling me a bit more about Mickael and Kewin? For example, do they have any favourite foods or places they like to hang out with their respective love interests?

PS: Your MCs are cute! I really like Kewin's design in steps 2-4!

Hello hello! Arrgh this is the first time anyone asks abt my ocs, thank you a lot! I always try with my designs to make people you could just realistically find walking in the street so im glad you liked that! Mickael is a big, bigggg night owl, he prefers to prowl during the night and in the future he works during the night too, as a programmer or in other IT jobs. He usually prefers places with less people as he rlly struggles with loud noises and other strong sensations. Going to the diner at night or the bridge with Qiu is a big hit! Familarity is also important to him, going to new places or changing the schedule may throw him in a loop. So, staying at home is also a big preference, playing videogames or getting high with company (Qiu) is one of his fav pastimes... He's very picky with foods and usually goes to stuff you'l usually feed a child, the reference i put on the google docs is a little outdated - but during step 3 he's significantly underweight (just how it shows in the ref) - while in step 4 he gains a big of weight due to healthier habits (which is something I hadn't developed yet in the ref!). Him and Qiu kinda of have a "us versus the world" stand and i imagine they'd isolate themselves (with Qiu being at their worse in step 2 and mickie at step 3) up until step 4. With Kewin, its a bit more complicated to put his habits into words....uhm...imagine a lone wolf who sticks to the edge of the pack and spends a lot of time looking into the moon but not howling! People will often describe that he "Smiles with sad eyes" even if he's genuinly happy, he just has a chronic sunken expression. He loves natural places, the furthest from the city the best, loves the forests, rivers, mountains, the sounds and the strong smells of dirt, rain and fungi! He's a big, big nerd about nature, the animals and how the world may work - which is what brings him close to Tamarack in the end - so thats where they spend most of their time! If tama is sad here he goes gallivanting into the woods with her and pushes her off her insecurities of being "unlady-like". He'l eat about everything but he loves big, greasy food, all saucy and meaty - with a beer to go with! With Qiu he mostly goes with their whims and takes the backsit, unlike with Tamarack, and goes with them to ballet class, the back of the school and be aloof in their backyard - though he usually refrains from going to populous places with them. Remember, always at the edge of the pack but never in the center.

[theink-stainedfolk]

OC Questionnaire Tag

Thank you @paeliae-occasionally and @drchenquill for the tag!

For this, I'll be taking my OCs from A Matter Of Time

My Questions are:

What is the furthest you have ever been from home?

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Is home a physical place? (It could be a person, a feeling etc.)

Are you good with rejection?

What is your biggest regret?

Would you say you have changed? If so, for better or worse?

---

Question 1: What is the furthest you have ever been from home?

Xavian:

"The furthest I've ever been from home was during a school trip to a neighboring city. It was only a few hours away, but it felt like another world to me. Everything was so different, and it made me realize how much I missed the familiar sights and sounds of home."

Gwyn:

"Physically? I'd say the time I went backpacking through Europe. But emotionally, the furthest I've ever been from home was when my family moved away, and I had to stay behind for school. It felt like I was completely on my own."

Lainey:

"For me, it's not about distance. The furthest I've felt from home was when I lost my parents. Even if I'm in the same city, without them, it feels like I'm a million miles away."

Question 2: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Xavian:

"I'd love to live by the sea. There's something calming about the ocean, the way it stretches out endlessly. It makes you feel like anything is possible."

Gwyn:

"Probably a bustling city like New York or Tokyo. There's always something new to discover."

Lainey:

"A quiet countryside cottage. Somewhere peaceful, where I can hear my own thoughts and connect with nature. It would be a place to heal and find clarity."

Question 3: Is home a physical place? (It could be a person, a feeling, etc.)

Xavian:

"Home, for me, is a feeling. It's where I feel safe and accepted, where I can be myself without fear of judgment. It's not tied to a specific place, but to the people and moments that make me feel whole."

Gwyn:

"Home is more than just a place. It's where I have my best memories, where the people I care about are. It’s the comfort of familiarity and the sense of belonging."

Lainey:

"Home is definitely a feeling. It's the warmth of love and the security of knowing you are where you belong. It's wherever I feel at peace and connected to the people I care about."

---

Question 4: Are you good with rejection?

Xavian:

"Not really. I take things to heart, and rejection stings more than I'd like to admit. I try to learn from it, but it's a tough pill to swallow every time."

Gwyn:

"I've had my fair share of rejection, and I'd like to think I've gotten used to it. It doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, but I try to see it as a redirection rather than a failure."

Lainey:

"I've learned to handle it. Rejection is just a part of life, and I try not to let it define me. Instead, I see it as an opportunity to grow and find a better path."

Question 5: What is your biggest regret?

Xavian:

"My biggest regret is not spending more time with my family before everything changed. I always thought there would be more time, but life doesn't work that way."

Gwyn:

"Not standing up for myself when it mattered most. I let fear and doubt control my actions, and I lost something important because of it."

Lainey:

"Not being honest with the people I care about. I've kept too many secrets, and it's cost me trust and relationships that I'll never get back."

Question 6: Would you say you have changed? If so, for better or worse?

Xavian:

"I've definitely changed. I think it's for the better, though. I've become more resilient and more aware of what's truly important in life."

Gwyn:

"I have changed, and it's a bit of both. I've become stronger and more independent, but I've also become more guarded and less trusting."

Lainey:

"I've changed a lot. I believe it's for the better because I've learned from my mistakes and grown into someone who can face challenges head-on."

How do these responses align with your characters' development?

---

I'll tag @finickyfelix @willtheweaver @ascotwriting @agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @illarian-rambling @winglesswriter @the-golden-comet and this is an open tag

Your questions are:

How do you find balance between your personal desires and your responsibilities?

What is your most cherished memory?

What is the most challenging decision you've ever had to make?

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 8

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

I shot 5 magazines thought the rifle and I realized my groupings were off. "FarReach, do you think it's me, or the weapon?" I asked, as I unloaded the last magazine and collected the brass.

"You seemed to be squeezing too hard. Maybe the stress?"

I nodded. It has been pretty stressful lately. "One more then." I said, and slotted a fresh magazine. More than two thousand years since their invention and chemically propelled, jacketed metal slugs are still our projectile weapons of choice. I know the K'laxi tend to prefer energy weapons and the Xenni favor tiny rockets, but give me a good old chemical reaction driving a bullet downrange any day. The K'laxi complain that they kick too hard, and the Xenni call them barbaric, but who am I to argue with results.

After taking a breath and slowing down, my accuracy did improve. As the shots rang out in the range I could see the spots on the target light up in a tight grouping. The center of the target was less important than all the shots being in a same spot. I ejected the magazine, slotted a new one, set the rifle for distance and tried the furthest target. This time, I used the magnification factor on the scope. Pushing the butt of the rifle hard against my shoulder so that my whole body could absorb the impact I put 8 rounds in a tight circle 4cm across more than 100 meters away. Good enough. I was back where I expected to be. I collected the brass, reloaded my magazines and took the rifle to the workbench. Carefully and methodically, I took it apart, cleaned and checked it, polished it and put it back together. All in all it took me about an hour, but I was going slow. It was almost Zen. When I finished, the gun smelled of oil and shone.

Lots of my friends were worried when they found out how skilled I am with guns, but really, it's not so bad. Like anything, skill comes with practice (and maybe a little bit of talent). This isn't the Bad Old Days, I don't keep weapons at home, I don't worry about people coming to take them or me being attacked. For me, the fun is in gaining the skill, seeing how accurate I can be, how fast I can be, how safe I can be. My favorite is my rifle, but I also know pistols, submachine guns and shotguns. Pistols are the hardest to keep skilled on. I'd have to shoot every single day just to stay as good as I am with a rifle. Pistols are incredibly inaccurate. I like submachine guns too, but really they're mostly noise and intimidation. Even the toughest Xenni warrior stops when a human is chattering away with a submachine gun.

I decided that when we left to meet the delegation on the Starbase that I'd take my rifle and my submachine gun. I'd keep them strapped to my back so as to reduce the intimidation factor. I wanted to say "We don't want to fight you, but also don't think you can push us around." I'm sure Vin'aren back home would call that "human to a fault." I smiled at the memory of them. I hope they were keeping our place clean.

Finished, I stood up and stretched. "FarReach, I'm bringing my rifle and my submachine gun to the airlock weapons locker, okay? I'm going to bring them when we disembark."

"Weapon movement registered, Melody, thanks for letting me know." We always report the movement of weapons aboard ship so that everyone knows where they are at all times. "Lunch is in about an hour. Captain Q'ari wants everyone to eat together before we dock."

"Thanks Far, I'll be there." I trott down the hall, my weapons slung along my back.

****

I have just enough time to stow my weapons, press my uniform and take a lightning quick shower before lunch. Sure, I'll be in my pressure suit for the meeting, but I'll know I'll be clean and sharp under it. When I get to the dining hall, Captain Q'ari is there already and she flicks an ear at my sharp uniform. "I want to look my best for our meeting." I say, only a little sheepishly as I take my sandwich and sit.

"No, it's a smart idea." Q'ari says. "Well done. Look good, feel good." We all eat. It's a light lunch in case we find something to eat - or are offered a meal - onboard.

After the meal, the Captain stands. "Okay everyone. If everyone here is friendly, you will all get an opportunity to disembark and explore, but for now, it's going to be me, Lieutenant Mullen, Commander Perinem and Lieutenant Adel." Me, Selem, Fer'resi and Omar. Makes sense. I can speak to them, Omar can give an idea about how friendly they look, Fer'resi can help with their language and Selem can be the face of the expedition. "Mullen will be the only one who is armed, and she shall have her weapons stowed while aboard unless absolutely necessary. We will not be the ones shooting first. This first meeting will be done in pressure suits with our helmets open. If the environment is conducive to us, further meetings can be done in our uniforms." She looked around. "Does anyone have any questions?"

Omar spoke up. "Why is Melody the only one who is coming out armed?"

Captain Q'ari's ears shrugged. "Because she frankly, is the best shot here, and we don't need anyone shooting anything accidentally. If we need to run, we run. Lieutenant Mullen will be mostly coming out armed to show that we are armed. We're not here to capture them, we don't need to go armed to the teeth."

Fer'resi spoke up "Will we attempt communications with them, or are we leaving that to the Lieutenant too?"

Captain Q'ari's ears flicked, a raised eyebrow. "If you think you can communicate with them without causing an incident, by all means. We know Lieutenant Mullen can speak their language - somehow - so she should probably do the majority of the talking. FarReach will be listening in, and you should be running recorders too so we can build a language model for the translators. Hopefully, on the next visit we can all speak to them at least a small amount." She clapped her hands. "Okay everyone. We're docking in an hour and disembarking sometime after that. Take it easy, but don't get complacent."

We all left the dining hall and I headed to the airlock where our pressure suits are kept. I decided to be extra methodical and cleaned and checked the suit before we needed to be ready. I wanted it to shine. Since it's a hard suit (mine is armored, everyone else uses a softer, more flexible suit normally) I'm able to take a little rotary polisher and apply some compound and really make it glow. When I'm done, it's not only clean and bright, but it's also smoother too. The blue of my armor looks deep enough to go fishing in. "Nicely done, Melody" FarReach remarks as I put the tools away. "You're sure to impress when you get out there."

I laughed, "Thanks FarReach, I hope so. I feel like there's going to be a lot of attention on me, so I want to look and feel my best. Do you think there's time for a coffee before we leave?"

"Just enough, Melody, if you go now."

I didn't have to be told twice. I headed over to the kitchenette and got out my coffee supplies. While I was working, Mei'la came by.

"Oh hi Mei!" I said brightly while I waited for the water to boil. "Did you have any trouble after we went to WEP?" Sometimes going to War Emergency Power can cause undue wear and tear on the reactors and it's a hassle to clean up afterwards. Better than dying though.

Her ears said no. "Not this time. It was the first time we went to WEP since the reactors were overhauled, so we had headroom to spare." She shook her head. "If we have to do it a lot though, I'm going to be busy. We can be down three reactors at a time, but any more than that and we have to turn off systems to keep within our power budget and we're limited to linking only when the batteries and capacitors are charged."

Starjumpers tend to have between 4 and 6 human made power reactors. I say "tend to" because they've been built for nearly a thousand years, so there isn't like, one singular type. Any really large ship that was originally designed to go between colony words at relativistic speeds is called a Starjumper. It's not like a class of ship.

Mei sees me thinking and comments. "FarReach is a newer Starjumper though, so it was relatively overbuilt. They have 6 reactors so we have gobs of power."

"Why so many?" I wondered out loud, hoping FarReach was listening.

"Mostly because when this Starjumper was built we were at war." FarReach answers. "I wasn't FarReach at the time this one was built, but looking through it, I can see the signs. It was built during the New Wellington/Parvati Colony War. It's massively overpowered so that it could fire the Stardrive and the laser batteries and the wormhole generator and support a crew.

"Wow" I said out loud. I remember reading about the war in school. Parvati and New Wellington got into an argument about trading rights with Earth and got into a war about it. Parvati launched a dozen multi-tonne lozenges of pure tungsten towards the colony at nearly 80% the speed of light. When they struck a couple of years later, it obliterated the colony. New Wellington is no more, and Parvati was a pariah for nearly a century. These days, many people from Meíhuā still have animosity towards people from Parvati. It's one of the reasons I don't usually announce I'm from Meíhuā. We're a small, more insular colony and I don't want people to judge me based on where I'm from.

Oops, I almost let the coffee over extract while I was daydreaming. I finished the pour and had just enough time to savor it before it was time to go suit up.

Over near the airlock, I got out my suit and started putting it on. I was the first one here, but as my suit took longer, that made sense. When I had my pants on, everyone else showed up and started suiting up.

Since a pressure suit is to vital to your survival, everyone makes sure everyone else has their suit on correctly and it's in good order. We all look over each other's suit and make sure the seals are clean, the environmental controls are active and working and that we have plenty of air. While we were suiting up Omar said "Melody, your suit practically shines! Did you polish it?"

"Actually, I did." I say proudly. "I ran the mini buffer over it with polishing compound. Like the Captain said, "look good, feel good." I grinned.

Captain Q'ari nodded as well before she put her helmet on. "The lieutenant is correct. Lieutenant Adel, you could take a lesson from her." Omar's suit was in fine order, but it was a little scuffed at the elbows and knees. Captain Q'ari's suit was spotless, as to be expected.

"Yeah yeah, I'll clean and polish it after we come back." He grumbled.

Suited up, I looked more bulky and intimidating than I was outside of the suit. It made me a few centimeters taller and broadened my shoulders but it still kept most of my form and - if I say so myself - I can pull it off. I looked good. I walked over to the weapons locker and touched the handle. It registered my biometrics and the door popped open. I took my rifle, checked to make sure it was safe and loaded and slung it behind my back. Then I reached in and took my submachine gun, did the same thing and strapped it to my waist. I dithered over taking extra magazines and deiced that was a little too much. The full magazine in the rifle and in the sub would have to be enough. Like the Captain said, I wasn't expecting to shoot anyone.

When I was finished with the weapons, everyone else was suited up. Captain Q'ari looked at all of us and said "Are we ready? Let's go make history." and walked over and cycled the airlock.

Part 9

[epicsteddieficrecs]

Epic Steddie Fic Rec | April 3rd-16th 2023

I never know what to say here 😆 I hope you guys had a good Easter if you celebrate? I hope you enjoy this rec? If I forgot to tag anyone, tell me? :P

Complete

🖤 starts with an h, sounds like potential by formosus_iniquis/ @formosusiniquis (4K | Teen): Eddie knows he got to Hawkins a little later than everyone else. He wasn't born and raised in the six miles of town with the same eight people his whole life. There was a whole social services kerfuffle that meant he didn't land in this small town hell hole until he was the ancient age of thirteen. But even without all that he is fucking positive that there was no Henderson in any of his three graduating classes. Yet here Henderson the supposed younger sits painting him a mystery week after week. Steve said this, Steve did that, Steve may very well be a delusion if the way the others giggle and sigh every time he gets brought up is any indication.

🖤 i can't take it when you touch me by deadratz (First Time, PWP | 20K | Explicit): Eddie is too embarrassed to tell Steve he's still a virgin. Their relationship gets to a point where he knows he can't keep it from him anymore. Steve makes it clear to Eddie that he doesn't mind at all. (Part 1 of locked in)

🖤 feels so good i could explode by deadratz (First Time, PWP | 12K | Explicit): After his first time, Eddie decides he loves sex. Particularly, sex with Steve Harrington. It's just that he doesn't really think Steve Harrington is going to love continuing to have sex with him after, what Eddie considers to be, a poor performance. Steve does what he does best and proves Eddie wrong. (Part 2 of locked in)

Slutty Social Media by blissedoutvixen (University AU | 15K | Explicit): Or: Steve has a really slutty Instagram presence and it's kind of ruining Eddie's life.

🖤 To Offer You a Little Relief by IndigoFudge (Canon Divergent, S4 Vol. 2 | 8K | Teen): Eddie pitches forward a bit, head falling against Steve’s shoulder. He’s shaking again. “I’m so sorry, Stevie,” he murmurs. “I think I’m in love with you. Worst fuckin’ time, but I think I’m in love with you. How about that.” It may not hurt to breathe, but it hurts to exist. Steve wishes it was tomorrow. Steve wishes it was tomorrow and Eddie was in the hospital safe and there would be a world of time for everything. “You’re gonna laugh,” he says, even though it’s the furthest thing from funny. “I think I’m in love with you too.” • What if Dustin had gone with Lucas, Max, and Erica? What if Nancy and Robin had killed Vecna alone? What if Steve had been with Eddie? What if that had made all the difference?

amplification by Adure/ @toburnup (Dreamsharing, PWP | 2K | Explicit): "And what if it's about you?" Steve asks, eyes serious. Questioning. "Would it still be a compliment?" Eddie's throat is bone dry. He blinks, feels each thought rearrange into something less comprehensible. Steve's hand is warm against his back. "As long as it's a good dream." (Part 3 of parasomnia)

somatic by Adure/ @toburnup (Dreamsharing, PWP | 3K | Explicit): "Apparently we've been hanging out at night without me realizing," Steve says quietly and he doesn't look mad, or even sound upset. He's just... looking. "Don't say it like that," Eddie says and the words are muffled underneath his palm as he scrubs his face. "The other night was... the first time I did that." Steve's smile melts into something less playful, almost unsure. "But if you—if you did that, that means you could feel—?" (Part 4 of parasomnia)

just an animal looking for a home by deadratz (PWP, First Time | 26K | Explicit): The first time Steve sees Eddie’s dick, there’s blood everywhere, his hands are trembling, and he’s too scared his friend is gonna die to think too much of it. But then he keeps seeing it, and he thinks about it a lot. Turns out Eddie’s been thinking about him, too.

WIP

🖤 better by you, better than me by palmviolet/ @palmviolet (Canon Divergent, Season 1-2 | 27/? | 142K | Mature | Warning: Violence): November 1983. Between unpaid bills, the supposedly straight jock he’s seeing, and letters from his convict dad, seventeen year old Eddie Munson’s got enough to worry about. But when Will Byers goes missing, it sparks a chain of events that will show there are more depths to Hawkins — and to certain people in it, like infamous Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington — than he realizes. / or, the excessively long slow-burn in which Eddie is involved in the Upside Down from the very beginning.

🖤 no me without you by cydonic (Post S4, Kas Eddie | 5/10 | 28K | Mature): Eddie Munson dies, the world is still ending, and Steve Harrington doesn’t know how he’s supposed to keep going. That is, until he comes face to familiar face with the creature killing people in Hawkins.

Operation Parent Trap by ChronicRabbit/ @chronicrabbit (Post-S4, The Party | 4/? | 8K | Mature): It all started with a crush. Not one that anyone expected, per se, but a crush nonetheless. The Party embarks upon a sacred quest; a quest to hook up their oblivious babysitter and their moon-eyed DM with the ultimate Parent Trap!

🖤 Reboot by plutosrose/ @plutosrose (Modern AU, Actor Steve & Eddie | 5/10 | 20K | Explicit): In 2012, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson film a scene in the teen drama Normal Stuff that launches a popular ship on ao3. By early 2013, they aren’t speaking anymore. In 2024, Robin calls Steve with an offer to reprise his role as Andy Hartley in a reboot of their old show, with one important update–his character gets together with Eddie’s.

🖤 Swing and a Miss by deadonarrival (Baseball Player Steve, Fake Relationship | 3/5 | 19K | Explicit): “Apparently they usually reserve the box for the wives and girlfriends … so either you’re gonna have to be my boyfriend or you’re going to have to sit in the stands with the fans. It’s not that bad, you just need to like, pretend to be my boyfriend so you can sit with the other WAGs and like, then you can be in the box and have all you can drink alcohol and snacks.” “Did you agree to this!?” Eddie asks. “If I say yes, how mad are you going to be?” Steve asks.

[zyrafowe-sny]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @fairytales-and-folklore! No pressure tags: @violet-prism-creatively @candyskiez @branmuffins22 @gakriele-lvs-blog @angelcloves @midnights-dragon @abstract-moth @thegrimshapeofyoursmile @sercezgazety @drev-the-procrastinator @watery-melon-baller @sir-ballister-boldheart @kestrel-wylde @madlad06 @unniebeans @mr-jaybird @halcyonhue and anyone else who sees this

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

29, but 12 of them are drabbles/drabble sequences based on Whumptober/Angstober prompts

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

41,643

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly The Owl House and Nimona, but I've also posted I Was a Teenage Exo-Colonist and have WIPs/plot bunnies for other fandoms

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dear Bat Queen is still beating out Blood Brother, but I wouldn't be surprised if their positions flip. like a bolt out of the blue is a far third, then World's Best Turkey Carver, then arm-upgrading is a love language.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try hard to respond to every comment since I enjoy the community aspect of fanfic. However, there are a few comments that I haven't replied to yet, mostly because I wanted to give a thoughtful response but wasn't in the right headspace for it.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

My Whumptober/Angstober drabbles are pretty angst heavy, as are many of my other drabbles/ficlets.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

arm-upgrading is a love language is almost entirely domestic fluff. World's Best Turkey Carver has more twists before a happy resolution.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not currently. I haven't entirely ruled it out, but I've mostly written genfic.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope. I've gotten inspiration from other media, but nothing that counts as a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Hrm. Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy are old friends, though Anne Elliott and Frederick Wentworth give them a run for their money. Alanna the Lioness and George Cooper were also a formative couple in my early teens.

(My TOH fics are mostly-gen even if they nod at ships, my IWATEC fic does strongly imply Sol/Dys, and I am writing Goldenheart in some Nimona WIPs.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I still have hope for my favorite WIPs!

I need to pick up my TOH grief Christmas fic again if it's ever going to be written.

My Palistrom & Promises series has been on an extremely long hiatus because I am (still) having trouble deciding how much of FTF and WAD I want to keep and how much I will ignore (this may also involve rejiggering the WIP that's furthest along).

I am not sure I can fully execute my phantom limb pain WIP to match my vision, but I think I can salvage at least a shorter fic from it and I am regularly plugging away at it with the help of WIP Wednesday asks.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I can occasionally write punchy 100 word drabbles. I like to think I also do a decent job at character studies. Dialogue is fun to write, but I am less sure that I am good at it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

description, action, real plot, anything longform

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done a tiny bit of it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Umm... probably Star Wars? It was mostly snippets of dialogue handwritten in journals.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Oooph. I'm going to show Intervention some extra love - I didn't realize how much of my soul I poured into that one until after I started reading comments.

[lilyblackdrawside]

Okay so I obviously had to design a kit for Abyssal Plume. Long post.

Plume of the Waves - Charger Vanguard

Talent 1: Inescapable Eyes - ASPD of enemies -20/-33 within 3 tiles around Plume of the Waves.

Talent 2: Abyssal Flow - When deployed, all [Abyssal Hunter] Operators ignore the target's Physical Dodge. Talent 1 by itself looks really strong. -33 aspd cuts attack speed by 50%, which is huge, but her kit is designed to reward redeploying her. Similar deal with Talent 2, except this one either does nothing or a lot. Thematically it was either this or aspd, but Andreana already has that. Could make an argument for defense piercing being fitting, but when all the AHs hit for 3k+ damage that’s a bit silly. Module 1: Obtain 1 DP after this unit defeats an enemy; Refunds the original DP Cost when retreated.When attacking enemies with less than 40% of their max HP, increase ATK to 115%. Talent [Abyssal Flow] -> When deployed, all [Abyssal Hunter] Operators ignore the target's Physical Dodge and 25%/50% of the target's special damage reduction. Unlock: - Defeat a total of 70 enemies with Plume of the Waves. (excluding Support Units) - Clear Side Story GA-8 with a 3-star rating; You must deploy your own Plume of the Waves, and have Plume of the Waves defeat Andoain.

This one dips even more into niche utility. The second unlock condition is probably a bit harsh, but it just fits. Plume is more someone who benefits from the extra stats provided by the squad and “only” gives some utility in return. She’s not going to have been with the group for that long, so it would be weird if she contributed something super essential.

Module 2: Generates 2 DP after this unit defeats an enemy; Refunds the current DP Cost when retreated.

Talent [Inescapable Eyes] -> Enemies gain -33 ASPD within 3 tiles around Plume the Hunter. Area of effect persists for 10s/15s after Plume of the Waves retreats.

Unlock: - Have Plume of the Waves use Endless Chase by the Lance a total of 20 times while activating its extra condition. - Clear Side Story RI-3 and have Plume of the Waves defeat 60 enemies. 60 enemies might seem rough, but that’s the third stage of Great Chief Gavial, so it’s really funny. This one makes her talent really oppressive in the right circumstances, but for the most part she still has the regular full redeployment time. Module 1 goes more for offense, module 2 for defense/utility. The increased DP gain from having the second type is really good and always getting the full refund makes another of her skills viable for making DP.

Skill 1 - Endless Chase by the Lance Passive Atk +25%~100% and ASPD +25~65 for 15 seconds after deployment. Retreat automatically when skill expires. Redeployment time greatly reduced (-70%) if at least 3 enemies were defeated.

Skill 2 - No way out but through the Lance Auto-Recovery, Manual 24s~12s charge, 0~5 initial charge Immediately strikes at most 3~4 unblocked enemies for 250%~360% Atk as physical damage, prioritizing ones furthest away. (Can target flying enemies.)

Skill 3 - Put to Rest on the Lance Passive After deployment, gain 3 Evade. (Obtain 85% Physical and Arts Dodge, stack depletes when evasion succeeds)

When defeated, leaves a Lance Counter stuck in whoever dealt the killing blow for 30s~66s, that reduces their ATK by 20%~55%, slows their movement speed by 50%~85% and inflicts Bleed on them. (Deals true damage every 0.5s equal to 200% atk)

When the victim is defeated, Lance Counter remains on the nearest deployable tile. Plume of the Waves' redeployment time refreshes early when an ally unit is deployed on the Lance Counter.

(Numbers listed are for Rank1~M3) You gotta do some flowery skill names with the Abyssal Hunters. These are comparatively plain, but there’s a bit of a theme going from 1 to 3.

Wild Mane has convinced me that Charger Vanguards work great when designed around being redeployed and/or have on-deploy skills. It’s a really good fit with their trait, so that’s a direction I went in with Plume here.

S1 makes her into an Executor, but only as long as there are enough enemies around. It’s good for moving her slow-field all over the place, but sucks for DP if you use Module 1. It allows her to chase enemies all over the field. With Module 2 you can use this one to have much more slow field uptime. S2 is her bread and butter. There’s not much to say about it, really. It has a strong effect with awkward targeting. If you don’t want to get hit by it, you have to face her lance head-on. S3 is something I had a bunch of different ideas for, but I couldn’t stick all of them in. I mean, I could’ve, but at some point I had to cut it out. She gets no direct offense buff with this one, but has 3 pseudo-shields. Barriers wouldn’t make sense for her, so she gets this. With the full squad she can probably definitely tank a hit from a boss anyway, which won’t consume an Evade stack. Basically, you drop her on an Elite or Boss enemy, have her tank it for a bit and then she impales them with her lance as a parting gift. The debuff is quite nasty and I had a few different effects in mind for it, but I think a heavy atk and slow pretty much neuters anything. It really shouldn’t last for up to a minute, it is definitely too much, but whatevs I’m not the balance team. The bleed damage is 400% atk dps, which is way overtuned. It’d only be balanced if her attack stat is moderate enough and since she has to be dead for it to apply, you can’t buff it so it’s sorta balanced in that way. At M3 the total bleed damage is... 13200% atk. I only just now calculated this and it’d definitely be the highest damage skill, but it’s a dot and dots suck. Can’t even kill the dishes with it. The redeploy effect is really cool and thematic. You send one of her allies to pick up her lance and she goes right back into the fight. Both parties are being put to rest here, one way or another.

At first I had this skill with an attack buff, a duration and “Will be defeated when the skill ends.”, but I want it to be a bit janky. With full squad support it might just be too annoying to get Plume killed for it to work on anything that isn’t a boss, but if you want something that’s convenient or easy to use, she has two other skills.

I didn’t design her as a dps operator, since the other Hunters already cover that just about well enough. She can fly around the battlefield and support the squad. Of course there’s a bunch of damage in her kit, but without her actual stats there’s not much that can be said about it. A fully maxed-out Bagpipe has 769 atk, so it’d be something in that area. That’s over 100 less than Gladiia and SpAlter and much less than Skadi of course. She’d still struggle against heavily armored enemies, but is good against the kind of enemies she’s meant to be good at handling. (small stuff, casters) Early on she does Vanguard stuff and then later on she can be sent out to assassinate stuff or cripple elites. Her actual DP generation would probably not even be that good, but neither is regular Plume’s. I’m aware that I broke the rules with her name, but naming things is difficult.