#and i got there eventually but all i can offer for advice in the meantime is like

[sapphic-luthor]

i am really on the verge of identifying as a lesbian because i feel like that label really does fit me but what’s confusing me is that there is one fictional tv show character who’s a man who is probably the only man i’ll ever Like but it does really confuse me as to why i feel like i may find him attractive but never any man irl

would just like to generally casually direct you to the lesbian masterdoc just in case you were looking for a bit of a read this lovely friday eve

[eatyoursparkout]

hello! this ask is prompted by a recent reblog of yours about rubber preservation. I'd love to hear your thoughts relating to TFs and preservation and plastics. what should folks know? any best practices for storage? do you think there's another way manufacturers could produce them to make them more hardy? etc etc. thanks :)

Sure! I'm not a conservator by trade (and even within conservation plastics are still somewhat of a new and niche thing), but I can offer some general advice.

The tl;dr is that like 90% of other materials your best bet is to keep them clean, out of strong light, in an environment that isn't too hot or too cold, and to avoid temperature/relative humidity (RH) fluctuations as much as possible. And above all, make sure that they're well-ventilated.

The tl;dr tl;dr is that plastics just suck.

More detail under the cut! (...Lots of detail. Sorry.)

There's 2 main problems with plastics.

The first is that a lot of them are just kind of inherently unstable. Unlike a nice chemically stable material like glass, they want to deteriorate when exposed to things like....oxygen. Rip. And once damage has set in, it's basically impossible to reverse/treat.

The second is that there's really no regulations or standards when it comes to the manufacture of plastics. There's a bazillion different types, and even if you're able to identify the specific kind via chemical test (and this often damages the object in question) it's almost impossible to know what other kinds of additives went into the plastic soup that created the thing in front of you. This also makes it really hard to develop a standardized approach to caring for and treating plastics, because two things can react wildly differently even if they appear virtually the same.

That means that when it comes to plastics, preventative conservation is the name of the game. You want to mitigate the effects of the agents of deterioration on the object as much as possible. And in the meantime, make peace with the fact that nothing can be preserved indefinitely :')

TFwiki has an article talking about the common types of plastic used in TF figures, which is neat and useful. Gonna hazard a guess that most figures are predominantly ABS, which is great because it's a fairly sturdy hard plastic that probably won't show effects for a while. I'd be statistically more concerned about figures with squishy, rubbery bits (looking with apprehension at my Kingdom line BW figures).

So! While the ideal environment for plastics is cold, dark, dry and oxygen-free (lol), when it comes to personal collections you can obviously only take reasonable measures. They're in our homes, not a vault. The main things you want to keep in mind:

Light fades and discolours plastic over time, and can eventually cause certain kinds to become brittle. The more lux that your figures are exposed to, the faster that's going to happen. So while it's not reasonable for your house to maintain museum-level lighting or shell out for fancy UV filtered cases, I'd keep your displays out of direct sunlight at minimum.

High temperatures can increase the rate of oxidation, and low ones can encourage shrinkage and brittleness. Either one can do damage over time, but what's worse is fluctuations in temp that force the material to weather one extreme to the other. If you've got your figures in a storage unit or something, a climate controlled one would be ideal, or at least insulating the box so that they're kept at a more stable temp. In the home, I'd keep them away from any vents/heaters.

As far as humidity goes, it's less damaging to plastics than a lot of other materials, but you still want to avoid any large fluctuations that will cause the material to expand and shrink (and eventually crack). Wherever you're storing your figures, try to make sure it's somewhere <65% RH (this is a high cutoff compared to most materials, so your home is probably fine unless you live somewhere humid without A/C).

Pollutants are a big one for plastics. Dust can cause microabrasions and damage over time, so keeping your figures clean is a good idea. I'd use a soft brush to avoid scratching your figures, or a lightly moist swab of some kind. Don't risk any kind of chemical cleaners, bleach, vinegar, etc. and I'd even avoid compressed air to be safe. If you want to be really careful about it, wash your hands before handling your figures. Humans carry all kinds of oil and dirt on their fingers- that's why museum professionals are often wearing gloves.

And then there's the problem of off-gassing...

Plastics can unfortunately give off vapours that can negatively affect other plastics in their vicinity. The especially bad ones are called malignant plastics (evil, scary), but it's hard to ID them until they start falling apart or damaging the things around them. Best course of action is to reduce contact between different figures (pose them together, but maybe don't leave someone's hand on someone else's shoulder for five years), and make sure that there's good ventilation.

If you're going to box up figures, don't be like me and store them in your parents' basement for years in an airtight container :') Go for a more pourous material like archival grade corrugated board, and use something as a buffer between figures like polyethylene bags/sheeting so that they're not touching (there's pros and cons to sealing each individual figure in a polyethylene bag- it'll be trapped with its own gases which could speed up deterioration, but the microclimate will keep it from affecting other figures around it).

And if you have boxed figures.... either commit to leaving them boxed forever or crack those bad boys open. My partner opened up their Pacific Rim figures after several years of them stewing in their own vapours and sadly they ended up falling apart in their hands. Thanks NECA.

As for manufacturing, you'd have to ask a chemist! I'm not sure exactly what it is that turns certain plastics to gunk and causes others to shatter, but I'm sure standardizing the way we make them would go a long way. Unfortunately, the stuff that's going to better for the planet in the long run (biodegradable) is also going to deteriorate quicker by design, so that's a whole other issue.

Anyway! That's a lot of info, but I hope it was an interesting and/or helpful introduction to plastic care lol. If you're interested in more thorough reading, I'll direct you to the CCI's handy dandy free online resource. They're an invaluable resource for all kinds of materials care.

[robot-rarepairs-dotcom]

So glad you liked the Grimjet art! I made some inbetween headcanons in the meantime. This is an angstfest.

Jetfire is very very scared when he finds out he's sparked. He confides in his team to try to find out what to do. His brother doesn't take it well. He thinks that someone just hit it and quit it with his brother. It takes both Sentinel and Jazz to stop Jetstorm from tracking down whoever sparked Jetfire, and twisting them into scrap metal.

When Jetstorm gets too angry, Jetfire then confesses that he secretly conjunxed an Autobot on Earth - Grimlock - without telling anyone because he knows nobody approves of their relationship, and that the child is the Dinobot's.

Jetstorm calms down somewhat, but still isn't very happy. He doesn't think Grimlock is good enough for Jetfire. He also isn't happy that Jetfire doesn't trust him enough to tell him about his husband. Meanwhile, Jazz is sad that Jetfire trusts them all so little that he didn't tell him about his secret husband. Sentinel is silent. He seems deep in thought. All three mechs and their reactions make Jetfire burst out in tears.

Sentinel is the first to come in to see Jetfire the next morning. He sits down on the younger mech's bed, and tries to be stern, yet kind. While Sentinel dislikes Grimlock, he can't bring himself to say anything bad about Jetfire's choice of husband - especially with Jetfire this vulnerable. Sentinel instead decides to help his vulnerable and hurting protoge by offering him advice and a shoulder to cry on. Sentinel flexes his emotional intelligence muscle to the max, and lets the young mech cry it all out in his arms. When Jetfire calms down, he tells Jetfire that he will contact the Autobots on Earth to ask if they can discuss a plan with him and Grimlock.

Jazz tries to be casual with Jetfire. While refueling together, Jazz pours him some extra fuel, and tells Jetfire that he's got to fuel up for two. Jetfire is just so emotionally drained that he groans and covers his face in embarassment. Jazz just gives him his space after that. Eventually, Jetfire wants to talk to Jazz about it, but right now, he just wants to refuel in PEACE.

It takes Jetstorm the longest to come to Jetfire. Jetstorm is upset that he put both of them AND his brother's sparkling at risk by combining with Jetfire during the first two months of his carrying cycle, and that his brother didn't trust him enough to tell him that he has a brother-in-law. Eventually, Jetstorm does come around, and talk to his brother about everything. He's rather defensive though. Their discussion devolves into an emotional argument.

During their argument, Jetstorm rants about how it's Grimlock's fault that Jetfire's fault that he's not as close with his twin brother as he used to be, and asks Jetfire why he can't trust him anymore. That sets off Jetfire. Jetstorm is told that the reason why his brother didn't trust him was because of his past remarks about Grimlock being a dangerous monster. These remarks have hurt Grimlock's feelings badly. Jetfire states that it was his choice to distance himself away from Jetstorm. Jetfire knows it was wrong of him to hide his marriage, and admits it. However, he feels like it was the easiest choice for him at the time. Jetfire then asks Jetstorm how would he feel if his brother's child was more like Grimlock, and less like him.

Jetstorm is quiet, before he realizes how much he fucked up. He apologizes. However, he follows the apology with a gentle question. He asks Jetfire if he plans on keeping the sparkling. Jetfire struggles to answer before he starts crying. Jetstorm carefully embraces him. Jetfire accepts his hug, by clinging on to his brother harder. He then mumbles something about stupid hormones.

You can’t get away with this. Why would you do this (very very positive btw you should write a whole fanfic about this omfg)

Also nice sentinel prime is so real of you that’s amazing

Jazz you cringe ass bitch😭

[coffin-comforts]

Okay so I know not a ton of people follow me but I want advice. I’m writing some lesbian vampire whump/ dark romance with some themes around societal isolation. The main duo are a mostly suave and cool but secretly neurotic, erratic, and possessive Duchess Anastasia Volkov (the lack of -a suffix is intentional) who as a child frequently tried to run away from her abusive homophobic parents where she ran into Elizaveta, the bakers daughter who was a few years older than her. Elizaveta was incredibly kind and understanding and would offer harbor her or at least give Anastasia some food even though there was risk of angering her father the Duke.

They last saw eachother with Anastasia was like 12 and Elizaveta was 16. The bad environment, social isolation, and frankly some entitlement due to classism kinda stunted Anastasia as a person, making her kind of cold and bitter towards most people but then prone to fits of outrage or obsession. She turned to occultism and eventually made a pact with a demon that would give her the strength to allow her title autonomy. As a result she became a vampire and killed her parents. In the meantime Elizaveta who is someone who constantly values herself by what she gives to her community kinda befell a conga line of hardships where her mother started to get sick with age, her father died, she got married, miscarried and couldn’t have kids which made her husband become kind of an ass and leave her, she started to get kind of sick from stress and overwork, just everything going to shit. Despite all of this she kind of copes by never sitting down and relaxing and allowing herself to be in her own head and being aggressively optimistic and trying to caretake everyone.

So after killing her parents and brooding Anastasia comes down from her little haunted depression nest castle. Looking for Elizaveta, having become kind of obsessively in love with her due to the shame and isolation and being a duchess and now a powerful vampire who kind of otherwise gets what she wants causing her to develop a deeply poor sense of relationship boundaries, and also she kind of sees her as a savior and wants to be that back for her. So she sees that Elizaveta is struggling hard stalks her for a while in disguise and then kidnaps her and her mom “for her own good” “so she can take care of her”.

Firstly, does this sound interesting at all? Secondly I’m debating making a love triangle, cause I have predictable taste, with a butch hunter lady who also dealt with a lot of societal rejection and as a result is like “fuck it I’m going to become a hunter in the woods so I can be angry and butch in peace and that way the only time people talk to me is when they need something and so they’re in the disadvantaged position”. And she sees Anastasia draining a boat or something, freaks out, also finds out she kidnapped Elizaveta and keeps trying to break in to get her out. Meanwhile Elizaveta feels conflicted because she did NOT want to be kidnapped obviously but also it’s nice to have her expenses and her mom be taken care of, and she wants to fix this terrible creepy castle, and goddamnit no one asks her what she wants! So yeah love triangle or no?

[princessmia-tarot]

https://www.tumblr.com/princessmia-tarot/723327533229260800/hello-mia-can-i-ask-if-i-will-change-university?source=share

Thank you for the reading!

You are right and I explain you better. I have to do only three exams to get a bachelor degree but all the exams I did were so difficult because of my teachers. They are bad, arrogant, they treat us bad and I'm exhausted. I was bullied by them and I can't handle this situation anymore. Besides, here where I live the university lasts three years and eventually more. This year is my sixth one! I called another uni to continue studying with them but they told me that their course is inactive for now and to call them in September again to know if the course is active. But if the situation remains the same I have to continue here where I live in the same old situation hoping to pass three exams and graduate. I'm 26 and I'd like to go living alone and get a job! They are blocking me!

Anyway, thank you for your time and for your advices!

You're welcome, and thank you for sharing your situation with me. It sounds like you are going through a challenging time with your current university and the difficult teachers. I can understand how exhausting and disheartening it must be to face such circumstances while pursuing your degree.

It's unfortunate that the other university's course is currently inactive, adding to the uncertainty and stress you are experiencing. However, remember that the situation can change, and it might be worth keeping in touch with them and checking back in September as they suggested.

In the meantime, I encourage you to stay resilient and focused on your goal of getting your bachelor's degree. Though the journey has been long, remember that you've come this far, and you have the strength to persevere. Consider seeking support from friends, family, or even counseling services if you find it helpful to cope with the challenges you're facing.

It's completely valid to feel frustrated and blocked by these obstacles, but try not to lose sight of your aspirations and dreams. Take small steps towards achieving your goals, even if it means taking things one day at a time. Gradually, you'll be able to overcome these barriers and move forward.

If living alone and getting a job are your desires, keep working towards that vision. Your perseverance and determination will eventually lead you to the opportunities you seek. Don't hesitate to explore other possibilities and consider alternative paths if they align better with your ambitions.

Remember, your worth is not defined by the challenges you face in academia or any setbacks you encounter. You have the power to create a fulfilling and meaningful life for yourself, regardless of the circumstances.

Take care of yourself and seek the support you need during this time. Be kind to yourself, and know that there are brighter days ahead. I'm here to offer guidance and support whenever you need it. Wishing you strength, resilience, and success in your journey. You've got this! 🌟💪

[grantairescurls]

i have many thoughts.

They are each other's wingman/woman (& silently judge Ragnar together when he's Up To Something)

I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS!!!!! Lagertha definitely goes to him to complain about her stupid husband every other day, at first Athelstan even tried to offer some advice but then he realized the poor woman just needs to let some frustration out. “He’s just so! SO!!” “I know.” “He’s such an IDIOT!” “A fool, truly.” He nods, not even looking up from the goat he was milking in the meantime.

They mourn Gyda on the anniversary of her death each year

don’t. don’t do this to me. not after There is Thunder in Our Hearts chapter 4.

Has trouble getting the at LEAST 3 languages he speaks straight in his head sometimes especially in those scenarios

we’ve talked about this extensively like two months ago yeah. i think its one of the most interesting traits of his character. also, i feel like no character other than Ragnar and Ecbert truly understood how intelligent he actually is

Tends the garden at Ragnar's farm, and later keeps a little garden of his own, it keeps him calm and reminds him of his work at Lindisfarne

Bakes bread like an absolute King

Good at cooking in general

Soup

Helga + Athelstan + Gyda flower crown making circle. Yes please.

Animals like him instinctively

Learns to knit & makes his own clothes

Ambidextrous (and would get in trouble at the monastery for occasionally using "the devil's hand" by accident)

absolutely love this one

Face turns beet red in the cold

#same #realasfuck

Eventually does get a tattoo on a wrist or ankle where it can't be seen by anyone

i am GLAD someone is finally talking about this. my Ac: Valhalla character (Eivor) is basically just an older/real viking Athelstan. long dark simple-braided hair, short beard, and the most basic and simple and clean tattoos available in the game. (you probably have no idea what im talking about, ill post some pictures i took of him in the game) but YEAH he WOULD get tattoos (maybe also because Ragnar kinda pressured him into getting one. maybe) but you know, nothing too fancy or extreme

He and Helga are best buds (to Floki's dismay)

him and Helga and Torstein are besties IDC IDC

Sorta easy to not notice. He can be very quiet, to the point where if he wanted to sneak around and snoop he could with almost zero effort. But he doesn't bc morals???

i have this scenario written down where Ragnar once asks him to visit the town they were going to raid pretending to be a foreigner. Athestan is like “??? are you crazy?? I’m gonna get killed” surprise surprise literally nobody notices him at all he blends in perfectly. if he was a videogame character he would be perfect for stealth-focused quests

these Ragnar ones are making me aargsgwhhshwjsjjjwkki !!!!

(he's tried to do this [teach him stuff] with Ragnar too but that man is Too Stubborn -- even when it's Athelstan)

!!!!!!!!1!!-£/

Ragnar's INSTINCT is to immediately roast most things he says about his religion off bat-- but then he'll spend hours thinking about his takes anyway and come back like hold on what was that you said. And Athelstan is like. Aha.

absolutely OBSESSED with this one the “Aha.” YESSSSS “Your is God is weird and weak compared to ours but also you need to tell me more immediately please I got no sleep last night thinking about the Holy Trinity. He’s your father but also your son and a spirit at the same time?”

Ragnar LOVES to playfully slap him on the back, throw an arm around him, hugs etc. which is all fun and great but sometimes he'll forget that Athelstan is like. Small. And will straight up knock him over.

i mentioned some time ago Ragnar accidentally hurting him really badly during training and this is the reason yes

Finds Ragnar's old clothes (that he's stuck with at the beginning of the series) comforting and doesn't mind that they're about four sizes too big — he’s used to loose oversized robes after all

he refuses to admit that also Ragnar’s strong (smelly) scent that lingers to those clothes don’t bother him at all. actually, well. i thats vulgar. i shan’t say. (he likes it)

Learns to make tattoos despite having only one of his own

Tries to give Ragnar one at one point and they think it'll be a -bonding experience~ but Ragnar will not stop squirming and Athelstan gets increasingly frustrated trying to get him to Hold The Fuck Still

+ @levithestripper ‘s reblog im dying over this

Ok my *favourite* Athelstan headcanons I've come up with so far, complied from all my earlier compilations** go:

**and yeah, YEAH a lot of these are reiterations of what i've said a million times, fight meeeee

under the cut:

He needs very little sleep to function & his sleep schedule is a Mystery

Always A Little Too Cold, can't sleep without like 18 covers

Shares life/skills tips with Lagertha

They are each other's wingman/woman (& silently judge Ragnar together when he's Up To Something)

They mourn Gyda on the anniversary of her death each year

He pushes himself too far without knowing it sometimes, trying to exist through being way too stressed, exhausted etc.

Has trouble getting the at LEAST 3 languages he speaks straight in his head sometimes especially in those scenarios

Tends the garden at Ragnar's farm, and later keeps a little garden of his own, it keeps him calm and reminds him of his work at Lindisfarne

His birth name wasn't Athelstan, that's his chosen monk name (in a couple fics of mine I've called him Anselm)

Bakes bread like an absolute King

Good at cooking in general

Soup

Has an intense fear of thunderstorms/severe weather

Can swim if he has to but not a fan of water either

Ambidextrous (and would get in trouble at the monastery for occasionally using "the devil's hand" by accident)

But now he can fight with both hands so that's cool

Nearsighted (that's what spending years squinting at small print by candlelight will do to a guy)

It's rare for him to get sick

But when he does it hits him like an absolute truck. Like he won't catch a single cold for YEARS and then out of nowhere bam, stuck in bed for two weeks with the worst bug of his life

Lagertha helps him out if he's unwell, he's got some medical training from being a monk but like I said earlier when he's too stressed his brain does Not work

And he's also helped her with injury recovery after battles, sometimes giving her insight to things that would've been a lot more serious otherwise

Basically he's her physio coach

(he's tried to do this with Ragnar too but that man is Too Stubborn -- even when it's Athelstan)

Ragnar's INSTINCT is to immediately roast most things he says about his religion off bat-- but then he'll spend hours thinking about his takes anyway and come back like hold on what was that you said. And Athelstan is like. Aha.

He and Helga are best buds (to Floki's dismay)

Helga + Athelstan + Gyda flower crown making circle. Yes please.

Face turns beet red in the cold

Ragnar LOVES to playfully slap him on the back, throw an arm around him, hugs etc. which is all fun and great but sometimes he'll forget that Athelstan is like. Small. And will straight up knock him over.

Animals like him instinctively

He's that weird guy who brings his sketchbook to a party & draws people

But fr he has more trouble remembering faces than names (and to him all the Norsemen kinda look alike. He will never admit that.) so he keeps track of everybody this way

Eventually does get a tattoo on a wrist or ankle where it can't be seen by anyone

Sorta easy to not notice. He can be very quiet, to the point where if he wanted to sneak around and snoop he could with almost zero effort. But he doesn't bc morals???

Finds Ragnar's old clothes (that he's stuck with at the beginning of the series) comforting and doesn't mind that they're about four sizes too big -- he's used to loose oversized robes after all

Gyda had a crush on him when he first arrived and Bjorn teased her incessantly about it (Athelstan had no idea)

People get to know him as kind of an advisor and sagely type, and will come to him for advice (honestly...kind of like a priest would do. which is not a connection he makes anyone aware of, but it makes him happy)

Strategy game enthusiast

Learns to knit & makes his own clothes

Has a bit of a photographic memory

Learns to make tattoos despite having only one of his own

Tries to give Ragnar one at one point and they think it'll be a ~bonding experience~ but Ragnar will not stop squirming and Athelstan gets increasingly frustrated trying to get him to Hold The Fuck Still

....Phew

@grantairescurls @levithestripper @starrose17

I know I've bombarded you guys with so much Athelstan stuff that's probably super repetitive but ughhhghhhhhhhh I gotta exorcise these things

[samanthadalton]

So we meet again part 2

since a few of you guys wanted a part 2 i thought i would give it a go, hope you enjoy. I wanted to do a mix between past and present so i’ve stated which parts are the past etc also there’ll be a part 3 which will be the finale, I’ll write that soon 💜

pairings: Poppy x Bea 

taglist: @cloud9in @somewillwin @alleycat97 @baexpoppy @save-me-the-last-dance @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth @iamsimpforpoppy @alexlabhont @thedaft1 @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings 

wordcount: 3.4k 

slightly NSFW also there might be swearing, i can’t remember tbh (it’s like 2am rn im sorry) 

also part 1 is here in case you need a refresher💜

--------

Bea and Poppy roll around in the bed, playfully, as Bea peppers kisses all over Poppy’s body, while pressing her body into the mattress. 

“Bea that tickles.” 

“Really?” Bea removes her hands from Poppy’s wrists and begins tickling her sides. 

“Please..stop..” Poppy says in between giggles and huffs. Eventually Bea moves her hands and is met with a pillow smashing into her face. 

“OW!” Bea cries out, as she rubs her face, a hint of a smile ghosts on her face. 

“I told you I hate being tickled,” Poppy huffs, expertly hiding her smile as Bea continues rubbing her face. “I’m sorry. Want me to kiss it better?” Bea pouts, nodding her head as she inches forward puckering her lips. Poppy rolls her eyes, placing a chaste kiss on Bea’s lips and just as she pulls away, Bea crashes her lips back into hers, eliciting a moan from the strawberry blonde. 

“That’s a kiss,” Bea teases, in retort Poppy playfully shoves her before leaning against the headboard. Bea lays her head on the pillow, shifting her body to face her girlfriend. “Hey can I ask you something?” 

“You’ll ask even if I say no,” Poppy jests. 

Bea leans up on her elbows, her expression sobering, “look Pops, these last two months have been amazing but I want to take you out on a real date.” 

Poppy groans, “not this again Bea.” 

“Hey, hey, let me finish,” Bea says pleadingly, Poppy rubs her temples, her silence indicating for Bea to continue, “I like what we have right now, just chilling and making out and stuff but I want to take you out on a real date. Somewhere public where I can show you off and make random strangers jealous of me because I’m dating the prettiest girl ever. All of this sneaking around is just reminding me of college.” 

*Flashback* 

As Bea climbs through Poppy’s window, her leg gets caught  in the curtains and she tumbles onto the floor, as the items on Poppy’s desk, plummet to the ground. 

“God damn it Farmsville, why not alert the entire sorority of your presence?” 

“Geez, it was an accident,” Bea dusts herself off, before picking up the fallen items and placing them back. “So what the hell is so urgent that you have me in your room at 1am and why couldn’t I go through the front door?” 

“Ew, don’t say it like that.” Poppy scrunches her nose up in disgust, “it’s not like that.”

“So why am I here?” 

“You’re number 1 at Belvoire now, think of this as my final consultation before you officially become queen.” 

“I was named queen the second they gave me the award, and I certainly don’t need any advice you have to offer.” 

Poppy visibly becomes irritated, her face etches into a scowl, “remember that I ruled this school for 3 years, and judging by recent events like your little plight with Kingsley, you’ve already got some enemies. Remember heavy is the head that wears the crown.” 

Bea lets out a humourless laugh, “don’t worry I have a plan.” Poppy raises an eyebrow, intrigued, “I’ll do the opposite of everything you did. I won’t backstab my friends, I won’t be a bitch to everyone and I’ll treat everyone with kindness and respect.” 

“Don’t forget Hughes, it was exactly that kind of subterfuge that got you in my spot in the first place.” 

“No, it helped me get into the top 15 I’ll admit, but everything else was careful strategy and just being a decent human being. You would be surprised how many people were desperate for your reign of tyranny to end.”

Poppy huffs, “funny how you act like people hate me so much when they would do anything just for a fraction of my attention.” Poppy takes a step forward, a sneer expression on her face. 

Bea snorts, “get off your high horse.” 

“Eurgh no farm jokes.” 

“I- I’m not going to even comment. So is that all you wanted or was there something else?” 

“What else do you think I want?” 

“I thought this was going to be about what happened at the fountain.” Poppy freezes for a split second, a blush creeping up on her cheeks, her mouth hangs open but no words come out. “Oh come on Pops, don’t act like you haven’t thought about what happened at least once or twice over the summer,” Bea flashes a smug grin which seems to bring Poppy back to reality. 

“Please,” she scoffs, “you’re giving yourself too much credit, that kiss was mediocre at best.”  

Bea raises an eyebrow, “liar.” Bea takes a step forward, “That kiss was mind-blowingly good. So good that on the first day back at Belvoire, you needed to make up a dumb excuse for me to sneak up to your room at 1am.” Poppy presses her lips together in a thin line, her eyes carefully roam Bea’s, waiting. Without any hesitation, Bea places her hands on Poppy’s hips, pulling her close to her as she presses her lips against Poppy’s, desire instantly building between the two of them. 

Poppy feels her eyes rolling to the back of her head, as Bea peppers kisses on her neck, and has to stifle a moan when Bea runs her tongue over her jaw. 

“Bea…stop with the foreplay.” Poppy feels Bea’s lips quirk up against her neck, but Bea continues kissing her neck, only frustrating Poppy more. “God Farmsville,” Poppy growls, she pushes Bea away from her and pulls her towards her bed, before straddling her lap. 

“Taking charge?” 

“I always take charge,” Poppy retorts, her lips ghosting around Bea’s until she playfully bites Bea’s bottom lip before sucking on it. “But I’m feeling nice today,” Poppy runs her forefinger down Bea’s body, evoking goosebumps, “so maybe I’ll let you be in control, just this once.” 

“So you’re planning on doing this again?” Bea teases as her lips quirk up into a wide grin as she flips their positions, pushing the strawberry blonde deep into her mattress, already locked in a passionate embrace before Poppy can retort. Bea places her hands around Poppy’s wrists placing her above her head, her eyes piercing into Poppy’s as she does so, in an attempt to demonstrate her dominance. Just as she leans in for another kiss, a loud series of knocks breaks them apart. 

“Hey P, you up?” Veronica’s voice rings through the room. 

Poppy silently motions for Bea to leave as she erratically flaps her arms towards the window. Bea wordlessly runs to the window and just as she’s about to climb out Poppy whispers, “don’t tell anyone about this, now hurry up.” 

*Present* 

Poppy averts her gaze from Bea, a guilty look on her face, “I’m sorry but college was different. I wasn’t ready for the world to know about us, I mean I barely understood what I felt for you.” 

Bea stares at Poppy with a hopeful look in her eyes, “but now you do.” She takes one of Poppy’s hands in hers, “look there’s no expectation to be super fancy, we can do something lowkey, just so we get a feel of being out together in public.” 

Poppy sighs, “fine.” Bea’s face lights up and Poppy can’t help but feel the butterflies in her stomach, “so where were you thinking?”

“I was thinking we would go to my restaurant.” 

“Digne d'une reine? That’s kinda high maintenance no?” 

“No, I meant Farmsville. I think it’s time for you to see the restaurant which you inspired.” 

Poppy bites her bottom lip, unable to stop herself from smiling, “okay.” 

……

A few weeks later, Poppy and Bea finally find the time out of their busy schedules to have their first date. As Bea leads Poppy into the small diner, Poppy stands awkwardly to the side as Bea leads her into one of the booths in the back. Poppy’s gaze darts around the room, wondering why the restaurant is so busy on a Sunday evening. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” Bea calls out to Poppy who looks lost in her own thoughts. 

“Yeah, great,” Poppy gives her girlfriend a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, as she nervously darts her gaze around the room, feeling as if all eyes are of them. 

Bea senses Poppy’s discomfort and reaches over the table, taking Poppy’s hand in hers, “hey if you wanna go…” 

Poppy violently shakes her head no, “no, I said it’s fine Bea.” She pulls her hand out of Bea’s and sits in silence until the waitress approaches the table handing the girls’ a menu each. 

“Hey Bea,” the waitress flashes the girl a bright smile, as she stands with a notebook in her hand. 

“Hey Cecila, how’s it going today?” 

“Not bad, it’s been kinda busy, but we miss seeing your face around here.” 

Bea lets out a small chuckle, “Don’t worry I’ll be back next week for a bit. I’m just glad we have you looking out for this place here otherwise it would’ve gone down in flames, literally. Jerry would’ve accidentally set fire to the kitchen if it wasn’t for you.” 

The waitress lets out a boisterous laugh, causing Poppy to furrow her brows as she reaches over, possessively interlacing her hand with Bea’s. “Hmm, funny.” The women stop laughing and look over to see Poppy’s unimpressed face. Bea expertly hides her smirk as she realises what’s going on. 

“Cecila,” Bea clears her throat, “this is Poppy-” 

“The girlfriend,” Poppy interjects. 

Cecilia gives Poppy a bright smile, “I was wondering when I was going to meet you! Bea would not stop talking our ears off about you.” Cecile playfully pushes Bea shoulder with her hand, “and she told me you were gorgeous but you are even more beautiful in person.” 

“Thanks,” Poppy bluntly replies, twirling a strand of her hair. 

“Well I’ll come back in a few minutes so y’all can look over the menu in the meantime.” Cecile gives a polite smile before moving to the next table. Once she’s gone, Poppy slips her hand out of Bea’s, but just as she lets go, Bea grabs her wrist pulling it back, a wide grin plastered on her face. 

“You’re jealous,” she says matter of factly. 

Poppy scoffs, “I don’t do jealousy, shut up.” 

Bea smiles, clearly enjoying herself, “yeah you are.” Poppy stares daggers at Bea, a scowl appearing on her face, “you don’t have to worry, I don’t think Cecile’s husband and kid would appreciate her leaving them for me.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, she’s super straight, and married.” 

“Oh,” a blush appears on Poppy’s face as she looks away embarrassed. The strawberry blonde pulls away her hand as Bea loosens her grip on her wrist. 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been jealous.” 

Poppy raises an unimpressed eyebrow at her girlfriend, “what the hell are you talking about?” 

“Come on, the Christmas party? Don’t tell me you don’t tell me you don’t remember.” 

*Flashback*

As the months went on, Bea and Poppy would meet up a couple of times a week for casual sex. They had set some ground rules, they can only meet up in Poppy’s bedroom, no cuddling afterwards, Bea would either have to sneak out through Poppy’s window or through the back door of the sorority if everyone else was asleep, and  no feelings could be involved. Poppy had been adamant to Bea about how sex was only a release for her frustrations and for the girl not to read too much into it because it meant nothing. But the Christmas party was just the beginning of the lines starting to blur. 

Just as Bea enters the frat house, she takes in the spirited atmosphere of the party, the loud thumping bass music, drumming in her ears as she makes her way over to the drinks station, pouring a drink for her and Zoey. 

“It’s really loud!” Bea shouts over the music. 

“What?” Zoey replies, as she takes one of the cups from Bea’s hands. 

“What?” 

“Yeah totally. Hey I’ll catch up with you soon, there’s a super cute girl over there.” Zoey lumbers over to the other side of the room, leaving the girl on her own. For a while she mingles with a few different groups, an obligation for the queen of Belvoire, but when Veronica begins not so subtly flirting with Bea, she can’t help but flirt back, especially when Veronica looks this good. 

They standing in the corner of the living room, as Veronica begins whispering into Bea’s ear about the party and how idiotic the football team look while playing strip pong but when Poppy walks through the living room in a skin tight pink dress, all rational thoughts are thrown out of the window for Bea. 

As if she can feel the girl’s eyes on her, Poppy swings her hips slightly as she walks past, a glimmer of a smile of her face, as Bea’s eyes follow her until Veronica breaks her out of her reverie. 

“You okay?” 

Bea deftly glances at Poppy to see her casually talking with Chloe, paying no attention to her, “yeah I’m good. Dance with me?” She holds out her hand which Veronica accepts as Bea leads her into the makeshift dance floor. Veronica presses her body against Bea’s, her hips grinding into Bea’s front, Bea places her hands on Veronica’s hips, only enhancing the friction between them. 

Poppy looks over to see Bea and Veronica dancing together as feels a burning sensation in her chest, it wasn’t jealousy, she wouldn’t admit to that but she did not enjoy seeing Veronica rubbing herself all over Bea. She leaves the house pulling up Bea’s contact info and texting the girl to meet her in her room asap. 

“I’ll grab us some drinks.” Bea nods as Veronica stalks off towards the drinks table and when she feels her phone buzzing in her pocket, she pulls it out to see a bunch of messages from Poppy saying it’s an emergency. Bea makes her way to the door but Veronica steps in front of her, 2 cups in her hands. 

“Are you leaving?” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry I just have to be somewhere,” Bea darts out of the house, leaving an abandoned Veronica who stands near the front door, confused.

“What’s the emergency?” Bea pants as she runs into Poppy’s room, not bothering to knock, while Poppy is standing near the door and is almost rammed over by Bea. Without a word, Poppy pulls Bea in for a kiss, her hands eagerly hooking around Bea’s neck. 

“Hey, wait,” Bea pulls away, anger written in her face, “what the hell Pops, just stop for a second.” Bea slightly pushes the strawberry blonde back, as she looks down on her. 

“Just please Farmsville, no talking, just kiss me,” Poppy replies, her tone almost begging, almost. 

Bea hesitates slightly, she’s not used to seeing Poppy so desperate, but she gives in. Poppy kisses Bea with urgency, her tongue already tangling with Bea’s, as she moans softly into Bea’s mouth. Bea guides Poppy to the bed, still locked in a kiss as she runs her hands down Poppy’s body, before she moves her hands to her back and begins unzipping her. 

“In a hurry Farmsville?” 

“As sexy as you look in this dress, you look even hotter without it.” Poppy doesn’t say anything but she gives Bea a smile as Bea’s hands continue wandering all over her body. Bea’s fingers ghost around Poppy’s inner thigh, causing the strawberry blonde to squirm slightly, as her hips rise off the bed. 

“Hughes please,” captivated by her pleading, Bea gives her, her thumb begins circling around Poppy’s button as her fingers just tease her entrance. 

“Say my name,” Bea whispers in a low gruff voice and unhesitantly, Poppy moans out Bea’s name. Bea pumps her fingers into Poppy, as she kisses her intensely, even after she feels Poppy’s juices all over her fingers, she continues moving against her, letting her ride out her orgasm. Once Poppy slumps down on the bed, Bea places her fingers in her mouth, tasting Poppy’s desire before pulling the strawberry blonde in for one more kiss. Bea remembers the rules and slides off the bed looking for her clothes before Poppy’s soft voice calls out to her. 

“Stay.” 

“What?” 

“Did I stutter? Stay, it’s late so you might as well stay.” 

“That’s not in the rules.” 

Poppy becomes irritated as she frowns at Bea, “I was just trying to be nice but whatever, leave if you want.” 

Bea knits her eyebrows together, unsure of what to do but against her better instincts she slides back under the covers, while maintaining a safe and wide gap between her and Poppy. “Thanks,” she mumbles out as Poppy just hums in response. 

The atmosphere becomes dense with awkwardness, as they lay in the bed together, unfamiliar with this territory. It isn’t until Bea speaks out that the silence is broken. 

“Hey can I ask you something?” 

Poppy sighs heavily, “even if I say no you’ll still probably ask.” 

“Probably.” The girls slip back into silence until Bea turns on her side, facing the strawberry blonde. “Why did you pull me away from the party?” 

Poppy shrugs, “I was sexually frustrated and our agreement consists of us letting out those frustrations.” 

“But you seemed pretty okay to me, I mean I saw you talking with Chloe and then I was dancing with Veronica and-” Bea falls silent, realisation dawning on her. “You’re jealous.” 

“You know what, I changed my mind, get out.” 

“Come on, I was just dancing with Veronica, I wasn’t going to sleep with her.” 

Poppy glares at Bea as she narrows her eyes, “whatever. I don’t care what you do with her anyway.” 

“Sure.” 

The girls fall back into an awkward silence until Bea feels sleep creeping up on her. Just as she closes her eyes, she hears Poppy’s voice. 

“Bea, you awake?” 

“Hmm?” Bea humans quietly. 

“You awake?” Poppy whispers. 

“Yeah, I am,” she replies, fighting back a yawn, “what’s up?” 

“What do you wanna do once college is over?” 

Bea purses her lips in thought, “it’s kinda stupid, you’ll laugh.” 

“I probably will but tell me anyways.” 

Bea lets out a short laugh, “I've always wanted to own a restaurant.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah.” Bea turns over to face Poppy, she can only make out a few of her features in the dark, but she sees Poppy’s big brown doe eyes staring straight into hers, “I’ve found food as my comfort. My family loved to cook, and growing up on a farm meant we were surrounded by fresh ingredients everywhere. My mom actually taught me how to cook and I’ve been using them as guinea pigs to test out new recipes ever since.” Bea can see a smile appearing on Poppy’s face and can’t help but smile back as she reminisces about the past. “So what about you?” 

“My fate has already been written out for me. Take over the Min Sinclair business and rule the world basically.” 

“Is that it? You’ve never had any other dream?” Poppy shrugs. “Come on, there must be something.” 

Poppy sighs, “I like to draw.” 

“Really? Do you have anything you can show me?” 

“As if Farmsville, it’s private.” 

“Fine, it was worth a try.” 

The girls fall back into silence, only this time it isn’t awkward, it’s almost refreshing. After that night, their nights weren’t always physical, sometimes they would sit there and talk about everything and nothing, and they shared things even their closest friends didn’t even know about each other. 

*Present*

“I was not jealous.” 

“Fine, whatever you say.” 

As the date continues, Poppy visibly relaxes, enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant as well as the company, as soon she forgets all her earlier doubts and begins truly enjoying herself as she laughs along to Bea’s stupid jokes while telling a few stories and jokes herself. Once Bea pays the bill, after fighting with Poppy for five minutes about wanting to be the perfect gentlewoman, Bea takes Poppy’s hand in hers and leads her to the exit of the restaurant. 

“I have a surprise for you.” She gestures to the huge blank wall at the entrance of Farmsville. “Surprise!” 

Poppy raises an eyebrow confused, “it’s a blank wall wow,” she says her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Well it is for now until,” she twists Poppy around, pulling her back to her front, as she whispers against her neck, “you work your magical artist skills and turn it into something beautiful.” 

Poppy gasps as she turns to face Bea, “wait you’re letting me paint it?” 

“Yep, even though you didn’t show me any of your work, I know you’ll do something amazing here, I’ll even pay you if you want.” 

Poppy shakes her head, pulling Bea in for a long kiss, “you’re the best you know that.” 

“Yeah I am pretty awesome.” Poppy grins pulling Bea in for another kiss.

[r6shippingdelivery]

I've been sad recently and I need some Tachanka and Fuze father-son relationship hcs 🥺 can you do that?

Sure I can! I hope you’ll feel better soon nonnie, in the meantime I hope this can help cheer you up a little:

Tachanka acts in a fatherly way with his team (whom he probably calls his boys) since they started working together. Kapkan teases him for it, Glaz jokes along but also takes Tachanka’s advice readily, and Fuze... at first Fuze was pretty annoyed with Tachanka’s way of acting, since he was sure the older defender just wanted to poke his nose in Fuze’s business and Fuze is extremely private.

After a time, he slowly started realizing that Tachanka meant well, didn’t gossip around important subjects, and was overall a good comrade. And a mentor to all of them in one way or another. However, he was still reticent to open up to him or consult him for advice, thinking that Tachanka would either scoff at him dure to Fuze’s earlier rudeness. Or feeling that he should be able to deal with his own problems himself, not ask for help.

Eventually, it’s Glaz who pushes him to seek Tachanka. Glaz knows some details about Fuze’s life, like how his MIA brother still weighs heavily on Fuze’s mind, but the help and support he can offer are limited. And Tachanka has more experience, also comes from a military family, and overall seems better equipped to help Fuze instead of just listening to him like Glaz does. But Fuze still hesitates, so in the end Glaz just sets him up for a “drinking night” where coincidentally he can’t make it, and Kapkan is on a mission anyway, oops. 

Nobody knows exactly what happened, since neither men will disclose it, but Fuze and Tachanka come back extremely late, and looking like Fuze cried at some point. He also seems a little freer after that, as if he got a great weight off of his chest.And Fuze stops hissing out angry remarks whenever Tachanka offers him advice, no matter what it is.

Even with this improvement in their relationship (or more accurately, in their communication, since Fuze had always respected Tachanka as a leader), Fuze was surprised when Tachanka requested his help with a few especial projects, like making sure his Shumikha launcher was operation ready, or improving Tachanka’s beloved LMG. Mainly because Tachanka never let anyone touch those, and now he asked Fuze to do put them apart and rebuild them! They both agree it was a fun project, and Fuze actually liked spending time with him.

I’m also 100% this incorrect quote happened at least once 😂

*Fuze sarcastically says “Yes dad” after Tachanka reminds him something, like picking up his clothes from the floor, or to not eat too much halva in one sitting, idk*

Tachanka: Do you see me as a father figure, Shuhrat?

Fuze: No. If anything I see you as a bother figure, because you're always bothering me.

Kapkan or Glaz: Hey, show your father some respect!

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Haven (11/50)

Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.

But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…

The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…

Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.

Rated: T

==

Haven

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [AO3]

Summary: The war in Ishval begins, and escalates far sooner than anyone could have anticipated. 

Characters: Trisha, Hohenheim, Sarah, Yuriy

Pairing: Trisha/Hohenheim

==

Note: Here’s the first major deviation from canon. The war in Ishval starts around the same time as in the canon timeline, but it escalates and the state alchemists are called up much sooner. 

==

The announcement of the Ishval civil war beginning does not surprise anyone in Resembool. Neither do the columns of soldiers marching through the town on their way to the front. They’re so close to Ishval here in the east, and they’ve been keeping tabs on what’s been happening, making ready for violence on the doorstep and more importantly, making ready to deal with the aftermath of that violence when it spills over. Resembool has a sizeable Ishvalan population who are already nervous about what is going to happen: although they know that they have nothing to fear within Resembool’s borders, the unease remains. 

It’s going to be a bloody conflict, and once it enters its second year, they know that it’s not going to be over any time soon. 

Yuriy and Sarah are considering setting up a hospital and refuge for those fleeing the region here in the village. There are more and more of them coming through now, although most of them head further into the desert and the direction of Xing and the Xerxes ruins, not wanting to come further into Amestris, the land that wants them all dead. Trisha is discussing the logistics with them, keeping half an eye on the children as they play on the mat when Hohenheim comes in looking alert and grave and nothing like his usual absent-minded self. 

“They’re going to call up the state alchemists,” he says, putting the newspaper down on the table. Trisha stares at the headline and skims the text. 

It doesn’t explicitly say that the alchemists are going to be deployed in Ishval, but the inference is very clear. The cadet alchemists are being rushed through the state licensing process, with apprentices getting their watches years before they ordinarily would. 

“They’re licensing children as young as sixteen,” Hohenheim spits. Trisha’s never seen him as angry about anything, but he’s seen so much bloodshed and horror in his many, many years  and he’s sharing his headspace with so many victims of it that she’s not surprised this is the thing he becomes impassioned about. “They’re going to send people that young to the front.”

For a long time, Van doesn’t say anything, just sitting at the table staring at the paper without looking at it, with that far-off expression in his eyes. The souls are evidently being very vocal on the topic, but there’s a concentration in Van’s face that means he’s actively listening to what they have to say, rather than trying to fight to push them all to the back of his mind so that he can hear himself think. Trisha has heard him talking to them out loud before, and she’s always usually amused at the one-sided conversations she can hear half of, but this is different. When the conversations are going on entirely inside his own head, she knows that it’s serious. It’s not just the souls trying to offer usually unhelpful advice or making choice comments on whatever’s happening around him at the time. They have things to say and he genuinely wants to listen to them. 

There’s a frown line between his brows, and Trisha doesn’t like the look of it. It’s a deeper furrow than usual. 

“Something’s wrong,” he says eventually. “Something’s wrong and I don’t want to believe it.”

Yuriy and Sarah look at each other and then at Trisha and then at Van. 

“Is everything ok? What are they saying?”

“This reminds them of Xerxes.”

It’s a chilling sentence. All three of them know what happened in Xerxes before Van became immortal. All three of them know how the souls came to be within him. 

Van shakes his head. “I have so much work to do.”

“We can help,” Yuriy says. “Whatever you think is going on, we can help you figure it out.”

Van looks pained and Trisha knows that he doesn’t want to drag anyone into his sordid history and the pain of what happened to his country and his people, but over the years that she’s known him, he’s got so much better at accepting help and accepting that the people of Resembool see him not as a monster, but as a person worthy of their help and friendship. 

Finally, he nods. “Thank you. I need to work out what I’m even looking at first. In the meantime…” He looks dubiously at the newspaper again. 

“We should probably be prepared for more people coming through,” Sarah agrees. “Not just Ishvalans. There’ll be deserters too. Alchemists barely out of their teens being sent to the front with no training other than ‘point it in the direction of the brown people’. They’ll try and get out, and if they’ve any sense then they’ll choose this direction rather than the desert.”

Yuriy nods. “It’s going to be a tough year.”

Trisha can only agree. People like to think of Resembool as a little patch of countryside paradise in an untouched corner of Amestris, but it is far from it. They see the effects of war just as much as everyone else. They see it in the shell-shocked soldiers sent home from the front. They see it in the eyes of the scared Ishvalan children who hide under beds and tables on the night of the bonfire and fireworks, eyes screwed up tight against the smoke and the noise.

The mood is sombre as she and Van take the children home that evening. Van is lost in thought, but this time his eyes are still sharp and focussed, he’s miles away but not distracted by the souls this time; he really is thinking, no doubt dwelling on the parallels between what’s happening now and what happened all those years ago in Xerxes. It’s not exactly the same - this is a war and a genocide, what happened before is something almost incomprehensible, but if it’s got Van and five hundred thousand odd Xerxian souls this worried, then it’s something to be worried about. 

The sun is going down as they reach the house, and Trisha looks out over the hills in the direction of Ishval. There’s nothing to be seen from this distance, and nothing to be heard, but that doesn’t mean she can’t dread the war coming closer to them than she can envisage right now. 

Still, all they can do is be prepared, and to help as much as they can in the way that they have always done.

X

Roy Mustang receives his state alchemist licence on his eighteenth birthday, and he is sent to the Ishval front two days later.

He’s not ready for what will come next.

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | the minis ii. 

pairings: kim seokjin x reader ; jeon jungkook x reader ; min yoongi x reader

rating: R (18+) | genre: established relationship! au, historical! au smut, fluff 

warnings: explicit sex; (dunno what this kink is called) but jinnie likes being called the king by the lohs; kink discoveries; oral (m receiving); dom-sub undertones

word count: 4.9k 

g/n: and because it’s seokjinnie missing hours~~~ Okta is also based off Okta in Hwarang and YES AHRO MAKES AN APPEARANCE WOOTTT also,,, chapter 6 might also come out real soon aCIfjoasdfj

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

It’s been a while since Seokjin had retired to your shared room after a long day. He’d initially considered waiting for you while he changed into his sleeping garments but after some time and eventually managing to finish a scroll he’d taken from his office, Seokjin gets up from where he’s seated by the window and asks for Yunho. 

A different voice answers from outside, “Jeonha, the guard you are looking for is not with us right now.” Seokjin tries to push away the worry that’s starting to creep through him. The king chooses not to reply, quickly heading over to the dresser to put back on the clothes he was wearing earlier. 

You’d never stayed out this late before and as much as he hated to admit it, the capitol isn’t always the safest place, even for its own citizens. There were rumors of an uprising rebellion in the south and the thought of you in danger - he couldn’t risk it. He won’t risk it. 

The king asks for Chaeyoung, who was told to be by the palace kitchens. He flees out of the hanok as soon as he gets dressed, taking his sword with him. Just in case. With haste in his steps, Seokjin arrives at the kitchen in no time, asking the cooks if they happened to see you anywhere in the palace. 

He receives no response concerning your current whereabouts from the gungnyeo’s quarters either, so he gestures to the guards to follow him, the group walking briskly towards the stables. When Seokjin discovers Yunho’s horse is likewise missing, worry grows in his chest, already praying to the heavens that nothing bad has happened to you. 

Gesturing for the troop to hurry, he arranges the saddle on his horse by himself. “Jeonha!” Seokjin breathes a sigh of relief as he hears Yunho’s voice calling him from a distance. He pulls on the reins, directing the horse to turn around. The king, however, doesn’t see you with Yunho, nor does he sense any security in the guard’s worried expression. 

“_________?” The guard bows briefly, before opening his mouth to speak. Realizing his current predicament does not need to reach the ears of the other guards, Yunho manages just in time to stop himself from speaking out loud. 

“My King,” Yunho speaks, voice low as he guides his horse nearer to Seokjin’s. “Jungjeon-mama is uh…” the guard racks his brain for a better word to explain your present condition but attains nothing. Instead, he settles on the plain truth, despite how strange it sounds rolling off his tongue, “the queen is...um… she’s drunk, your grace.” 

It takes Seokjin a moment to process Yunho’s words - the possible image of your drunken state too much for your husband to even picture properly. Seokjin worries for your safety - knowing that you’d never had any proper alcohol in your life. The king quietly prays to his ancestors to watch over you for the meantime while he  recollects himself before anyone notices, not wanting to cause any more worry. 

When Seokjin deems everyone ready, Yunho suggests the troop to prepare a palanquin after having seen your state - clearly far too intoxicated to even sit upright on a horse. Yunho escorts the king to the establishment where Haesoo had called for his help. 

Much to yours and Seokjin’s luck there aren't many people on the streets, given it was already deep into the night - which only got Seokjin worried and wondering; what could possibly be the reason for you to visit such a place? And at such a late hour? 

Were you unhappy with your marriage? Was he lacking as a husband? As a king perhaps? A million questions are running through his head - unable to think straight as his horse gallops along the dirt road. 

 “Lady Ahro! Why do I feel like my husband is here?” you giggle, leaning nearly all of your weight on the poor lady. Ahro has been watching over you since she called for Haesoo’s attention who then called for Yunho, and now the same guard had paid her for such a task. Watching over royals was never in her line of duties, especially those whose drunken selves are a pain to attend to, but the lady was willing to do anything as long as she’d get paid. 

 When someone came to inform her earlier this afternoon of the soon arrival of an elite client, she was banking on one of her regulars paying her a visit, but she never expected the nation’s queen to visit such a place like Okta. 

 The establishment was built by and for the elites, yes, but it catered to a more generally younger and more… for lack of a better word, carefree audience. People usually came to Okta for two things: to meet new people of the same societal ranking and to have fun, occasionally, a little too much fun in privacy of the rooms it provided. 

 It was awkward, at first, unsure how to approach each other. You take a deep breath and speak first, and you can sense her gratitude in the small smile playing in the corner of her lips. “I need your advice,” you start off, voice barely above a whisper. 

The lady in front of you lightly raises an eyebrow at your request. “I believe you have to be more specific with your request, my queen. It is my belief that I am knowledgeable on most things - but I am not sure which field in particular you wish for me to share my insights.” 

You gulp, completely frozen in place. Chewing on your bottom lip, you consider rethinking your life decisions. Why were you here? What actually got you here in the first place? Ah yes, to learn more about what goes on behind the doors of a married couple, or, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted to know more about the pleasures of the flesh. 

Confessedly, you and Seokjin were relatively a young married couple, you were together for quite a few years already, but you only had the chance to stay in the privacy of your shared room only after your marriage. Other than that, the only displays of affection you had with Seokjin never really went past kissing, or that one time he accidentally groped your chest when you almost fell out of balance while on a horse… if that even was to be considered under that category… 

And it wasn’t that the both of you hadn’t been on that certain level of intimacy yet, but during those times - you felt like you could have actually contributed more. If you were being completely honest, you had mixed feelings about the whole matter - even questioning the fact that you are even concerned about this in the first place. 

Due to the hushed rumors circling the noble class of the city, you’ve had the chance to eavesdrop about this particular establishment which allowed the citizens to enjoy art and music in a more...unconventional manner. 

Okta was a crossover between an inn and a canteen but people apparently spent more time consuming alcohol while enjoying each others’ company (whichever came first) in the common and private areas inside the place. 

You’d even heard of a lady who told tales of all genres, including erotica, in exchange for a few silver coins. The price was reasonable and with your curiosity and your married-woman-insecurities out on your sleeve, you thought Okta was perhaps the place where you’d finally discover the answers to your unspoken queries. 

So you had secretly scheduled a meeting with the infamous “Ahro” and the only other person who knew of this rendezvous was Haesoo, who swore on her ancestors that she wouldn’t tell a soul of your whereabouts, unless it would be of a life and death situation. 

Your intoxicated state was apparently considered one. 

You had most definitely not intended to actually consume alcohol but considering the fact that Lady Ahro’s stories ultimately had the small hairs on your nape stand on end, not to mention those tips she occasionally throws in for you to use, (tonight too, just as she had advised!), you figured you might as well have a little wine running through your veins to boost your lack of courage. 

How you got to this point however - practically clinging onto Ahro for dear life as you giggle uncontrollably - was beyond you. Both your mind and vision have become hazy as the hours pass and you’re barely aware of what’s going on in your surroundings. 

She hears rustling from outside the room where you spent talking for hours on end, and she wonders if her temporary guardian duties will finally end. At least the handsome guard had already given her more than three weeks worth of her wages. 

The king pokes his head in, eyes scanning the room. He finds you practically draped over Ahro who looks like she’d had to deal with you since time immemorial. Apologizing in your stead, he requests Ahro to leave the two of you for a moment. 

It takes the pair quite some effort to pry you off the lady. Seokjin offers another bag of silver in exchange for her silence and Ahro almost considers not taking the payment to preserve her dignity, but quickly remembers she didn’t have much of it in the first place so with a wave and a gentle reminder to Seokjin to never leave you alone again in the establishment, Ahro takes her money and scurries off. 

“Sarang, it’s time to go.” Seokjin tugs at your hand to pull you up but you decline, looking away as you put on your best cutesy angry face. He just chuckles at you, gasping in surprise as you tug him downwards, ultimately landing on the spot next to yours. “I still want to play.” 

Feeling Seokjin’s chest vibrate with laughter, you pout at him. Since when did Seokjin have such a wonderful neck? It seems like this is the first time you’ve seen his bare neck in years - his throat and whatever is that lump that’s sticking out from his throat is suddenly so...attractive? 

In fact, you’ve found it insanely attractive that you’re unable to stop yourself from placing a wet kiss on his neck, just below his jawline. His breath hitches and the action only spurs you further, peppering his throat lingering kisses, working your way down to his collarbone. 

Seokjin exhales shakily as he gently tries to pry you off him. “_______, dearest. Not here jagiya. We need to get you home.” 

“Can we play then? When we get home?” 

He’s never seen you reply like this before and your husband is tempted to ask who you were and what could you have possibly done to his wife, but judging by your current state, he deems it’s not going to end well if he does. Instead, Seokjin just nods at you in reply. 

He’s surprised when that actually gets you on your feet. Wincing at the sudden headache that booms through your temple, Seokjin holds you steady as you stumble in your stance. As the pain subsides enough to be tolerable, you shake yourself off of Seokjin’s grasp, skipping giddily out of the room. 

Finding difficulty bearing with your drunken mood swings, your husband lets his head flop forward in exasperation as he rubs his face with his palms. Realizing he has yet to watch you in case your inability to walk in a straight line might strike again, Seokjin quickly runs after you. 

Just as he had thought, you fall midway to the back door, landing on your knees. Your husband rushes to you, asking if you felt any sort of pain. The boisterous laugh that escapes your lips answers his question efficiently. 

Because of the sudden sound, Seokjin sees some of the people from the common area are trying to peek through the slits between the wooden panels covering the hallways, wondering where that sound came from. With graceful haste, Seokjin scoops you up from the floor and walks briskly towards the end of the hallway where Yunho and the rest of the group were waiting with a palanquin. 

Your husband ushers you into the litter but your unusually stubborn self continues to cling onto the silken fabric of his jeogori so Seokjin had no other choice but to climb in as well - the palanquin, thankfully, spacious enough to fit two passengers. 

Latching onto his arm the moment you’ve settled in your seat, Seokjin wonders slightly if you’ll have any recollection of this once you’ve become sober tomorrow. The king heaves a sigh, finally getting the chance to feel that certain level of relief now that you were quiet and beside him at last. 

Seokjin might have spoken too soon. 

Next thing he knew, you were snuggling into his chest, fingers dancing lazily along his thigh while you’re at it. Your husband didn’t find it suspicious at first, but when he feels your digits trail dangerously up north, Seokjin gently pushes your hand away keeping them secure under his grasp as he places them on your lap. 

Desperation can’t seem to stop anybody though. Even with your hands cuffed beneath Seokjin’s huge palms, you manage to latch your lips on his neck one more time, sucking on the sensitive spot along the creamy expanse of his throat. 

The sound that reverberates throughout Seokjin’s body is something you’ve never heard of before - the almost animalistic sound canonically shooting a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You continue your ministrations until Seokjin gets a hold of himself after an embarrassing amount of time, pulling away from you with a stern look on his face. He calls you by your full name, scolding you slightly of a behavior unbecoming of a queen, reminding you that you both weren’t in the confines of your room and any occurrence of a scandalous event is unaffordable by the royal family. You cower slightly in your seat, not expecting your very own husband to use his authoritative king voice on you. 

But just like the interesting turn of events in a short time span tonight, the alcohol coursing through your veins seem to have a mind of its own. 

Instead of letting your husband hinder you from your intentions, you take advantage of Seokjin’s loosened grip on your hands, climbing onto his lap swiftly and gracefully, that the palanquin manages to not move much so as not to raise any suspicion from outside. 

“Have I been a very bad queen, Seokjinnie?” Your hand purposely brushes through his crotch before trailing upward to cup his jaw. Seokjin staggers at the teasing tone of your voice, thoughts drifting off to whatever they made you drink inside that made you a completely different person.  He badly needs to get a hold of those too. 

Pushing yourself further into his lap, so close that he feels your breath fanning against his nose. “Jeonha,” you whisper salaciously, nipping at the shell of his ear, “Aren’t bad queens going to get punished?” Seokjin remains silent as he stares at you with an intense gaze, lust clouding over his dark orbs. 

“Hmm?” you tap his chin once, feeling the faint stubble of a promising beard. Your husband’s face remains stoic even with your provocative efforts, so you decide to take it up a notch, inspired and fueled by one of Ahro’s stories earlier. 

Your hand travels under your skirt, lifting it just a little to reveal that tiny sliver of skin to your husband and as you raise yourself a tiny amount from his lap, you swiftly untie the cloth covering your most private of parts, throwing them aside somewhere else inside the palanquin. 

“I am most willing to take any punishment, jeonha...” you whisper as you grind your core on his crotch. Even with your thick skirt hindering you from experiencing the intense pleasure from grinding on his clothed cock, there’s still that faint feeling of his erection as you grind even heavier. “Twofold,” you state, gyrating your hips to match your counting. “Threefold…” another one. You see the lump on Seokjin’s throat bob up and down as he gulps. “Fourfold.” 

“Don’t worry, my queen. I’ll be sure to punish you accordingly,” comes Seokjin's equally strained reply, not taking his eyes off you as he thrusts upwards. 

Seokjin returns you back to your seat beside him effortlessly, not a word spoken. Well, it’s not as if it’s needed. The tension inside in the now-seemingly cramped space is enough for you to perceive what might happen in the next few moments. As if in sync with your thoughts, Seokjin reminds, “Stay still in your seat, unless you want more punishment later.” 

You manage to stay still in your seat, despite your thoughts completely haywire. Maybe you wanted more punishment? Or are you already asking for too much? Was he really going to punish you? 

Not before long, the palanquin halts, indicating your arrival at the palace. Seokjin spares you a look, heart melting at the sight of you already asleep, snoring slightly in your sleep. 

He chuckles at your slumbering form, climbing out of the palanquin first before asking Yunho to assist him as he clambers to get you out of the litter. Seokjin then proceeds to carry you in his arms and up the stairs to your hanok. 

Laying you gently on the bed, Seokjin undresses you layer after layer, knowing how uncomfortable it will be for you if you continue sleeping in the multiple layers of clothing you have on. Your husband delicately tears off your jeogori first, then laughs to himself as he turns you to the side to untie the knot on your skirt, remembering your alcohol-induced bravado earlier. The young king makes a mental note to ask someone tomorrow to get a sample of whatever they had given you prior...for research purposes. 

He takes the bowl of water he’s kept by the fire to maintain its temperature, pulls out a small washcloth from your dresser and dips the same into the bowl. Seokjin drags the white fabric along the expanse of your skin not covered by your undergarments. When he deems you freshened enough, he pulls on the ribbon holding half of your hair up in a ponytail. 

Fishing your favorite brush from a nearby drawer, a satisfied smile plays on the corner of Seokjin’s lips, running the brush along your hair fanned out on the pillows. Though he loves you for who you truly are, one physical attribute of yours that appeals to him most is your hair - he can’t quite put a finger on it, but there’s something about your hair that he finds so feminine, something he finds strangely, but insanely attractive - much more than he can ever admit out loud. 

Propping an elbow for something to lean on, he finds brushing your hair particularly soothing and therapeutic, enough to even lull him to a deep sleep, one hand on the brush and the other holding your hand. 

A raging headache and a parched throat wake you from your peaceful sleep, squinting as your eyes adjust to take in your surroundings. You try to recollect what happened last night, vague splashes of last night’s events splayed across your thoughts. 

A royal robe covering haphazardly draped over someone’s legs discontinues your momentary reminiscence. Twisting your torso to the side, you see your husband, mouth slightly open as he snores away happily in his sleep. He must’ve taken off your outer clothes last night and — you rack your brain thinking hard if you had done something unintelligible and embarrassing. 

Your brazen advances last night finally dawn on you, face cringing as you remember bits and pieces of how you were the night before. ‘It must have been a nightmare for Seokjin,’ you think to yourself, already conjuring up a lame apology for your inexcusable behavior. 

Pushing your robe away from Seokjin’s legs, you take notice of the erection hidden beneath the confines of his pants. You make an attempt to not stare at it perversely but it was standing tall and proud like that, and oh - your eyes widen as you see it twitch, as if demanding all of your attention.

Wasn’t this a common occurrence in the morning? You might have felt it a few times during your rising when Seokjin spooned you in his sleep, but your timidity can’t seem to address the concern to your own husband. 

Looking away, you shift in your position to share your blanket with your husband. Seokjin unexpectedly wakes up at the action though, giving you a small fright. “Sarang, you’re awake already? Seokjin is talking slower than usual, voice still groggy from sleep. 

You nod at him with a shy smile, embarrassed at the fact that you almost got caught eyeing that thing between his legs. “Are you alright? Dizzy, perhaps?” 

“Just a little, but I’ll be okay. Thank you for taking care of me last night,” you place a kiss on his cheek as Seokjin hums delightedly. “You must have taken quite the beating last night.” Fiddling with your fingers as you apologize for your behavior last night, Seokjin grabs at your hands and takes them between his. 

“It’s fine, sarang. Actually, it was quite...amusing, if I do say so myself,” your husband comments, winking at you. Seokjin sits up, resting his back against the wooden board and beckoning you nearer to him. 

As you scoot closer, you snuggle into Seokjin’s chest. Your husband places a kiss on your temple, before playing with your hair, just silently carding his fingers through them. “Do you mind telling me what actually happened last night - the things I said, perhaps? I can’t really recall them properly…” 

“Truthfully I was worried when I didn’t see you here yesterday. It was already late when I returned from the office and I don’t really want to be that type of husband that locks you inside the palace but I became really anxious when you still hadn’t returned.” 

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” you frown, mentally noting to inform Seokjin of your whereabouts before leaving the palace. 

“It’s alright, really. Anyways, I found you practically attached to Ahro, was it? And then we went home. Now we’re here.” 

“That’s it?” With the evident Seokjin’s haste in his recollection, you’re starting to get suspicious about how the previous night could have ended that quickly - that...uneventful. 

“Nothing else happened? Like I didn’t do or say anything? Am I a quiet drunk?” Your husband looks overwhelmed with all your questions, gulping before he responds. 

“You kind of said a couple of things...but! It’s nothing really, nothing major…” Seokjin chuckles nervously, scratching at the back of his head. 

“That can’t be the whole story?” You raise an eyebrow at your husband, testing him. Sliding lower down his chest a little so you have a better view of him, you trace the faint stubble on his chin. “Tell me, my king? Please?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Seokjin mumbles, looking away. “Doesn’t seem like you dislike it though, jeonha.” Your husband heaves a sigh, knowing you’ve won again. “You do know I love you with all my heart, right? And I don’t want you to think that I might take advantage of your drunkenness - which I didn’t, really, because you fell asleep too before anything actually happened…” He was stalling, you figured, as it might involve something that made him uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell the whole thing… I just… why do I only remember me saying something along the lines of punishment?” Seokjin looks down at you with dilated pupils. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you...it’s just…” your husband pauses, thinking deeply about what his next statement might entail. “I can’t think about it without getting hard…” 

Seokjin looks almost strained as he looks to the side, avoiding your eyes. “If only you’ve seen - heard yourself last night, gods! It was like a different you completely” 

Just as if the universe is on your side, you’re starting to get clearer recollection of last night’s events, realization slowly dawning on you. Likewise, Ahro’s words ring inside your head, urging you to go make your move. Relying on the last possible ounce of alcohol remaining inside you, you gather all your courage and make a proposition. “Am I still up for punishment? Jeonha?” 

Seokjin dramatically exhales, rubbing at his face. “Don’t say things like that, ________!” Laughter is already bubbling in the pit of your stomach (just as much as the anticipation for what’s to come, in case your plan works out) but you control yourself, maintaining a straight face as you continue to query him. 

“Why? Did I say something, my king?” 

Your husband makes a sound, somewhere between a grunt frustration and resilience, and looks at you dead in the eye, “You saying those things just makes me really want to punish you.” Pulse rapidly accelerating, you make a final question, “What’s stopping you, jeonha?” 

Seokjin wastes no time with your affirmation, connecting your lips together. Moaning into the kiss, he shifts in his seat to cage you between him and the bed, strong arms holding him up as he deepens the kiss.

Shamelessly grinding his erection against you, Seokjin grunts, gripping at your thighs to keep them spread, “Do you feel how aroused you get me all the time?” Mewling at the sensation, you manage to choke out a reply, “As do you, my love.”

Your husband deftly unties the undergarments you’ve slept in. “Seok…” a breathy whine escapes you as he latches onto on of your nipples. The foreign feeling of his warm, wet tongue sends you shivering and it takes all your might to stop him as you remember Ahro’s advice yesterday, squeezing at your husband’s lithe biceps.

“What is it, sarang? Do you wish to stop?”

“N-no. I want to take control, Jinnie.”

Albeit slightly taken aback by your behest, Seokjin nods, sitting on his heels. “Lie down, my king. I want to pleasure you.” Shock is evident in your husband’s features as he complies with your command, cock already twitching in anticipation. “Take off you clothes too.” Seokjin obeys without further questioning, unknowingly easing the mild worry nipping at you.

Just as what Ahro had told you yesterday, you splay your hands on his chest, before bending down slowly to place kisses all over the milky expanse of his skin. Moving further south until your reach that thin trail of hair, Seokjin’s sudden intakes of air continuously urge you on, until you finally get to his crown jewel.

Licking at your lips, you hastily pull his pants down, your desperation for a mutual release guiding your actions on instinct. As soon as his cock springs free from its confines, you get into action, placing a wet kiss on the tip of his length before slowly taking the head in your mouth.

“O-oh, fuck! What did that lady tell you back at Okt…” Seokjin cries out a broken moan as you pull your mouth back up then diving back in, eventually getting lower to the base. You feel your husband tremble with your every bob, subconsciously tugging at your hair in pleasure.

Seokjin starts to squirm around you, pushing your mouth away from his shaft. “My love, please…. please let me be inside you. I can’t cum like this, please.” Seokjin beseeches, torso already covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Your husband switches your positions as he pushes you gently onto the bed, but your hand shoots out to grab at his wrist. “C-can...can I be on top?”

There’s a slight furrow in Seokjin’s brows at your request, but he smiles nonetheless, keeping his excitement at bay. “Of course, love. You’re free to sit on your throne anytime.” 

He lies back down, both palms out to support you in your task. Gladly placing your hands on him, you crawl back on his lap, moving on your knees to position yourself to impale yourself on his cock.

Taking his length in your hand, you languidly swipe the tip against your wet folds. With one final breath, you push downward, sinking down on his cock until he’s fully seated inside you. Slowly you start, swiveling your hips just as you were told. Seokjin keeps his gaze at you through hooded eyes – a definite boost of confidence for you.

You settle on a particular rhythm, just gyrating your hips around before it gets too much like you’re almost at that point, but not quite yet. You start alternating by bouncing atop him, while your fingers find your clit, rubbing at your nether bud vigorously to push you towards your high.

Seokjin grabs at your breasts, twisting and tweaking your nipples, stimulating you further. He feels you clench around him as you orgasm nears quickly and his balls tighten likewise, painting your velvety walls white as he reaches his climax after you.

You fall to his chest, panting just as heavily as Seokjin. He decides on keeping himself still sheathed inside you for a while longer, reveling in the feeling of his cum dripping out of your pussy and onto his thigh. “The next time you go to Okta, take me with you, alright? I’ll have whatever you had back there.” 

© joontier 2020

[ltleflrt]

Hi! So i've been reading your fics for years, and just recently started following you on tumblr. You're great! And I was wondering if you possibly had any advice for someone trying to get through writing a large fic? I've just recently gotten back into writing, and what I thought would be a quick write has mutated into several chapters and feels a bit daunting. Even if you could just point me in a direction would be appreciated!

Hello!  Welcome to my messy corner of this hellsite(affectionate)!  Please don’t mind the stacks of reblogs, I promise I’m working on organizing them ;D

Getting back into writing is exciting news!  Taking breaks is supposedly good for the muse, but it’s not as fun as writing that’s for sure lol

It’s hard to give general advice without knowing what you’re struggling with specifically, but I can give you a rundown of my process.  It’s as messy as my blog because it’s something that just happens to me.  I suffer from longficitis and I’m ALWAYS surprised when I manage to write something quick and short.  The first fic I ever wrote was supposed to be a 1200 word one shot, and 2 months later was 78k, so uhhhhh.... oops? XD

Anyway!  I don’t plan shit, and I always think my stories are going to be short.  I am the very definition of a Pantser.  I write a little scene, and then I think “huh, I could expand on that”, rinse repeat.  This means I often write myself into corners, or into mysterious fogs that hide the future plot from me.  So at this point I whine.  Whining is VERY IMPORTANT.  It vents the frustration while also making me lay out what I’ve done so far and what I want to do and the options to get from here to there.  That’s a conversation I’m able to have without the whining component, but honestly the venting that comes with whining is cathartic and I wouldn’t give it up for anything.  Shoutout to @jupiterjames and @bendingsignpost for putting up with me when I get like this lol

And that brings me to the most important part of writing longfics (or writing in general, really).  Finding people you can talk it out with.  Someone you can bounce ideas off of, who can also be like “oh but you know what else you can do?” (because it’s not like I don't’ have a million plot bunnies breeding in my brain already, I must adopt those my friends offer me as well).  Now I know I make that sound simple, but it’s not.  Finding someone whose muse gets along with yours can take a while.  In the meantime though, find yourself a writing group.  Right now the writing group I like to work with is in the Profound Bond server’s writer cafe channel.  There’s always folks in there who will help me find the right word, help me rephrase a sentence I’m stuck on, encourage me, and talk out fic ideas with.  Sometimes I end up DMing someone and we chat it out privately.  And they’re WONDERFUL cheerleaders.  Sometimes it’s fun to just go in there and see if anyone wants to do a writing sprint, and see how many words can happen in the next 15 minutes.  You can find more info about them @profoundnet. 

Lets see, what else...?

Schedule writing times.  I write 1 hour a day, but not always all at once.  Sometimes it’s 15 minutes here, 30 minutes there, sometimes I manage to do it all in one sitting.  But I try to do it around the same time every day so I can get in the mindset for it.

Track your words.  It’s FUN and encouraging.  Don’t look at low wordcounts as a failure, ever.  Every number is a good number, because they all mean progress.

Keep notes of ideas about the story. It doesn’t have to be an outline, it can be messy and unorganized, just make sure it’s written down where you can find it.  Revisit the notes file whenever you’re in the mood to be creative, but not in the mood to make words happen.

Don’t be afraid to drop plot points if you feel like you can’t fit them in.  You might be able to use them somewhere else, either later in the story or in a whole different story.  Your favorite plot ideas will be better served in the right story that fits them, rather than forcing them to fit into a story that is wrong for them.

Try not to let the word count intimidate you.  Even after all the 100k+ fics I’ve written, I still look at my stories at the beginning and think “oh gods what have I gotten myself into?” and that could easily discourage me or anyone.  Just keep writing, you’ll get there eventually.

Some people like to write the exciting scenes first and then fill in the spaces.  Some people like to use the exciting scenes as their carrot on the stick to keep them chugging along.  I’m in the latter group.  Figure out which one works for you, and use it as a motivational tool.

Feel free to skip scenes you’re stuck on!  You can always come back to it later.  Heck, you might even figure out a way to skip it altogether and streamline the story.  Or by writing what comes after, you’ll figure out what kept you stuck on the skipped scene and now you’ve got your solution.  Longfics never need to be written in order.  (I mean, I usually write them that way, but I think I’m kind of an exception to that?  I dunno, we’re all different, and that’s neat!)

Anyway, I don’t know if any of this is new or exciting advice, but I hope it helps.  Good luck, friend!

[fletchphoenix]

Just Another Varigo Coffee Shop AU

Um Hi! Im Fletch and this is my first post / first anything if I’m being honest. And it’s Varigo! I honestly simp so hard for this ship and kinda *okay really hoped* the spinoff would happen but oh well. In the meantime, I shall supply you with this!

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

This was gonna be a long week.

Fresh flakes of snow fell from the sky as Varian trudged down the street, only just out of his classes for the day. A frown covered his features as he finally took notice of the weather he was walking in. His bag weighted heavier on his back the more steps he took, containing various notebooks, textbooks and equipment he needed to use. For now, the snow only seemed to be a minor inconvenience. “I can make it back..” he muttered in reassurance.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Time passed and the snow got progressively more and more heavy. The wind started to howl and pick up in speed, howling and blowing ice cold air. He had to find shelter. Fast. That was when a quaint coffee shop caught his eye. With no other choice, the raven haired boy sprinted towards the store, threw the door open and slid inside. 

The first thing he noticed about the shop was just how warm it was. It instantly erased the numb feeling in his limbs, replacing it with a relaxing heat. The scent of coffee engulfed his senses too - in fact it was all he could smell (not that it was a problem, it was mouthwateringly good. The smell alone made him want more). Tables were filled left and right, however he waded through the mass of people and sat down at the only available space - a booth by a window. Varian silently gazed out of the window.

He hated the snow.

it was snowing on THAT night. The night he put his dad in a coma. He didn’t even mean to - but he just wanted to make his dad proud of him for doing something good, but it didn’t work. He tried to get help for them from Eugene’s girlfriend. He begged. Hell, he even ran through a snowstorm to find them. He couldn’t even feel his hands or feet by the time he got there. But no one helped. That night made him do some awful things..how could they ever forgive him? Did they even forgive him? What if they hated him? What if- What if- What if-

“Hey, can I sit here?”

Varian’s thoughts were halted in an instant as he looked at the source of the voice. The man was tall - most likely around his age - and looked down at him with his mouth tilted in a smile, an eyebrow raised. Blonde locks were styled into an undercut with the top part tied back into a ponytail, and emerald eyes that studied him were framed by a pair of obnoxiously big glasses. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Varian asked, a look of confusion on his face.

“Can I sit here? The shop’s full and I noticed only you were sitting here so...” the blonde’s words died out, smiling as Varian gave him a nod of confirmation. “Great.” he said with a wide smile, sitting down in the booth opposite him. “I noticed we go to the same university. I’m Hugo Atkinson.”

“Varian. Varian Ruddiger.” He replied with a small nod, glancing out of the window again. Snow still fell outside, showing no signs of relenting or stopping at all. A sigh left his lips as he turned his head back to look at his newfound companion, only to find him staring. “Are you okay?”

“Chemistry in senior year. You sit at the back. Professor Xavier. Am I right?” Hugo smirked, not waiting for a reply. “I knew I recognised you! Hey, let me get you a drink. What do you want?” 

“Uh...vanilla latte. One sugar, please.”

“On it, short stuff!” The blonde replied, hastily moving out of his seat and hurrying to the counter before Varian could retaliate. Did he just..call him short? Really? Varian groaned and rested his head on the table. NOW he remembered who he was. The memories flooded back to him of the relentless teasing he’d endured throughout the last year along with the annoying comments. Why did he have to reunite with him of all people? Did the universe just hate him that much?

“He’s certainly changed...” Varian mumbled under his breath. And he had. He wasn’t at ALL unattractive, his face perfectly fit with defined cheekbones, a lanky structure and vibrant, green eyes he could just get lost in...NO! None of that! He knew what Hugo was like. How he dated around and broke hearts of anyone relentlessly in senior year. Nope. Varian was not having any of that, thank you very much. 

A few moments later, Hugo came back with two drinks in hand before settling down opposite Varian again with a smile on his face. 

“Hope you didn’t miss me too much, hairstripe.” he chuckled, laughing when Varian lunged to punch his arm. “Ow! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll stop.” Hugo settled down, taking a sip of his coffee. “So...what brings you here?”

“Just the snow. It’s way too strong to walk in so I decided not to push my luck.” He replied, taking a sip of his latte. It was perfect, the warmth spreading throughout his body. Coffee was simply the best in weather like this - the taste of vanilla reminding him of how Rapunzel makes them. 

“Me too.” Hugo muttered and raised the cup to his lips again, his free hand moving and tucking a section of his fringe behind his ear. “My mom should be coming to pick me up soon, though.” He added quietly, a dark look appearing on his face before disappearing just as quickly as it came. “Anyway, that isn’t important. How’s everything been?”

“The usual. Boring...only thing that’s keeping me busy is the chem work we’re getting.” He groaned and rubbed at his eyes, yawning before sipping his coffee again. God, this coffee tasted heavenly. 

“Me too. My engineering work is stressful as hell.” Hugo complained and slumped back in his seat.

Varian paused and looked Hugo in the eyes. “Let me look. I’ll help you out and you can help me with my chemistry, Deal?” 

Hugp paused for a moment, considering his offer before standing and shuffling to sit in the booth right beside Varian. Reaching into a previously unseen bag, he dropped 2 pens, 2 pencils, and a notebook onto the spruce table. “Okay Ruddiger, lets do this.”

For what seemed like hours, him and Hugo talked and talked and talked. It felt reassuring, Varian thought, having someone that understood what he was talking about for the most part and to help him. Their topics varied from chemistry to biology to engineering and so much more. At one point, they even spoke about pets! As it turned out, Hugo had a pet mouse called Cheese (”Creative name.” Varian quipped, earning a roll of the eyes and a gentle punch on the arm from the other) and Varian confided about his pet cat, Ruddiger (to which Hugo mocked his previous comment). It felt natural. Nice. 

Of course all good things had to come to an end.

A buzz from Hugo’s phone interrupted their VERY riveting conversation about the logistics of an automaton. “Oh shit, my mom is here.” Hugo said with a frown, his eyes meeting Varian’s. Varian tried, but to no avail, to hide his disappointment. 

“Oh. Well, this was fun-” He started to say.

“Hold on.” Hugo stopped him, reaching out to grab a napkin and a pen, Silently, he wrote on it before passing Varian the napkin with a smile. “See you around, hairstripe.” He added before he was gone, navigating through the crowd of people to get towards the door.

Varian took a second to glance down at the napkin. His face flushed as he saw the note contained Hugo’s number along with ‘Call me x’. He bit his lip gently and glanced in the direction Hugo left in, taking out his phone and inputting the number quietly before picking up his bag and heading to the door. Outside the snow had stopped, leaving a small blanket that. crackled with every step he took. 

When he got home, Varian lay on his bed and stared at his phone or, more specifically, Hugo’s contact. His hands shook with anticipation and anxiety. Oh god, what should he say? What was a normal thing to say to a cute boy from high school you just reunited with? He let out a frustrated cry and flopped back onto his bed, throwing his phone elsewhere on the covers. Why was he so bad at this?

After at least an hour of stressing, pacing and advice from Rapunzel and Eugene, he officially gave up. He slowly picked up his phone and typed out the message.

Varian : Hi, it’s me from the coffee shop.

“Okay Varian...and...” He closed his eyes, his finger hovering over the send button, before pressing it and shutting the phone off. He lay back again and covered his eyes. “HI?! REALLY? THAT’S THE BEST YOU COULD DO?” He scolded himself and covered his eyes. Hugo was gonna think he’s an idiot! A massive idiot! A chime sounded out through the room and, as fast as he could, Varian lunged and picked up his phone to read Hugo’s reply.

Hugo : Heya hairstripe =) 

Hugo : Took you long enough to text me, aha

Varian’s face changed into a smile as him and Hugo continued to talk all throughout the night. Eventually, at 3am, he decided to call it a night and get some rest before his class tomorrow.

Varian : I’m going to sleep - goodnight Hugo

Hugo : Before you dooo....

Hugo : How about another coffee meet? You free Thursday at 1?

Varian let out a loud gasp before sitting up and smiling widely. Hugo wanted to meet up again. Oh my god Hugo wanted to see him again! Giddy with excitement, he picked up his phone and immediately text him back.

Varian : Yep, I am

Hugo : It’s a date <3 see you then Ruddiger. Sweet dreams.

Varian set his phone aside on his bedroom table, a lovesick smile on his face as he lay back and stared at the ceiling. A date. A date with Hugo. He couldn’t help the flush on his cheeks or the butterflies in his stomach as he started to drift off to sleep with Ruddiger jumping and laying beside him in bed. Now he had to wait till Thursday.

This was gonna be a long week.

[butterfly-winx]

Seen a lot of talk about relationships in people’s rewrites, and I wanted to share my headcanons for the “butterfly fic” AU! (I’m currently going on an S6+ timeline, so the story starts off with all canon couples and then... crumbles from there)

Bloom x Sky: The two of them got together for real at the end of S2 in this timeline, after the identity shrouding/theft both of them pulled made their start rocky. They both understand why the other did it, but it doesn’t make it any better or easier to bear after months of insecurity, thinking they would be dumped eventually when the truth came out. S3 though S4 they are well off, but then the whammy hits when Sky loses his memories during the oil rig rescue mission. He still knows Bloom and that he loves her, but even after a year he doesn’t feel like he can recover the version of his self that he has been before. Bloom tries to assure him as best as she can, showing him that she can learn how to love the “new” him as well. Their lives end up on hugely different trajectories that lead to their relationship slowly crumbling over the S8 timeline, during which Bloom is going crazy worries about her sanity and reliability (👀). Bloom also slowly finds herself developing feelings for Stella after the other confesses. In the end Bloom and Sky go their separate ways amicably.

Stella x Brandon: So, Stella confesses to Bloom, then how does SxB work out? Well, both Stella and Brandon are home of sexuals in a mutually beneficial fake relationship. They did date of course back in the S1-2 time, fully conforming to what society expected of people of their standing. Stella believed as long as she could find a guy ok enough to settle with, everything would be fine. She could be happy. Brandon on the other hand was a bit more aware of his crush on Sky, but he though if he hid behind a relationship with a conventionally feminine and attractive girl he could squash all rumours and budding feelings. Internalised homophobia is a bitch that did a number on both of them. Though this is not to say there are no real emotions between them. Stella loves Brandon deeply, they consider each other their respective closest friend. In that vein, Stella would do anything to make life as stable and comfortable for Brandon - after his childhood had been less so - including marrying him to make him a prince. Since Solaria supports polyamory, this comes at no additional strain for her. His presence in the meantime wards off other suitors and creeps, for which she is very thankful, as it gives her space to figure out her feelings about Bloom. And oooh does she have many. She eventually confesses during the S8 timeline, but has to wait quite a while for a positive response, after which Stella and Brandon both come clean about the nature of their relationship to the rest of the world. In the end, Stella is lucky enough to celebrate not one, but two fun weddings.

Brandon: He gets his own column, because his story goes on separate from Stella’s. While the engagement to Stella is still on the table in the S6 timeline, Brandon struggles both with his crumbling team of Specialists and his feelings about the new recruit. Alright, he did not recruit Roy to the team because he thought he was cute. Brandon thinking that and low-key flirting with him came after they settled on the addition to their team. But BxR doesn’t have a long future after Roy believes Brandon cheated on Stella by sleeping with him. Plus his tension with Layla eventually lead to Roy leaving the team mid S7. Long after that, Brandon gets over his crush for Sky, just when Sky is in the middle of a life crisis and Brandon tries his best not to get sucked in too deep again, but that hurts Sky and irreparably damages the close friendship they had before.

Flora x Helia: Ah yes, unproblematic faves. Don’t change what isn’t broken. (Their S5 trouble isn’t about Flora being jealous about a literal teenager,  but rather about her shock of him being so willing to close off and leave behind people from different stages of his life.) The two of them would be set for marriage if such a custom existed on Lynphea, but they definitely plan on raising a family on planet once that is an option again.

Timmy x Techna: Equally low drama zone. They felt a bit pushed together when they first got acquainted as their friends started to date each other. Techna was having their gender identity crisis for the majority of S2 so a relationship was furthest away from their mind. They softly flirted in S3 as they grew closer, which as we know ended in Timmy losing his marbles when Techna got sucked into the Omega portal. He confessed right as the rescue mission was still happening and the two of them have been going strong since then. In S5 they even move together, which Musa joins in S6 (they had a two bedroom flat, just in case they needed the extra space from each other, when/if things weren’t working out, but they were using only the one bedroom anyway, so Musa was welcome there) Surprising everyone who knew them, Timmy and Techan were actually the first ones to get married. After Timmy’s family was becoming more and more hostile, denouncing him for his choice of career, Techna thought it was the most logical thing to get married and grant Timmy much better social security. The two of them plus Musa living together were falling into a tooth-rottingly cute domesticity, until life got unexpectedly difficult.

Musa x Riven: The drama central couple that never should have gotten together. In retrospect everything was super clear to Musa: they had gotten together after Riven had rescued her from Shadowhaunt, playing the hero he had always wanted to be - this streak for glory being the thing that ruined their relationship down the road. Riven’s insecurity got the best of him during S5 and he couldn’t stop comparing himself to Sky, feeling helpless even beside Musa herself. She of course was incredibly offended her boyfriend only wanted her as long as she was waifish and he could swoop in for the rescue, so as soon as Domino was restored the two of them broke up, Riven going his own way, away from the Specialist team itself. Reflecting over the mistakes of her relationship cause Musa to realise she was forcing herself to like a lot of things about Riven, and maybe she was actually also interested in women as well. Layla welcomes her to the wlw world and suggests Musa put herself out there. However Musa doesn’t find love anytime soon (not like there weren’t options out there, like Galatea would go on a date with her in a heartbeat if Musa only asked) And then after moving together with Techna and Timmy, the three of them fall asleep on the same couch one too many times for Musa to start thinking there might be something there, a bit more than just friendship.. and then of course she ruins it, cause....

Riven x Darcy: He enters the story again in the S8 timeline, and disappears quickly again after Flora gives him the worst advice of her life (that she thought he looked genuinely happy with Darcy, hoping he wouldn’t force the thing with Musa). So he goes looking for Darcy, unintentionally setting off the whole plot for this arc, because Darcy is not where she should be prison and she is not there on her own accord. Darcy and Riven continue to have a thing on and off (seeing as she is a wanted criminal and shit) and that drives Musa up the wall. She may or may not still have feelings for Riven. Upset, she looks for an outlet with her quarantine mate, and that ladies and gents, is bad decision central

Stormy x Musa: Bad decision central. A drunken one night stand, let’s not talk about it anymore.

Layla x Nex: A sweet one sided crush that goes nowhere. Nex tries, but Layla is nowhere near ready to date again when he steps into her life in S7. He takes the rejection with dignity and the two of them try to remain friends, as best as they can, when Nex suddenly becomes the biggest critic of Layla’s chosen relationship in S8 (he means well of course, and once again, despite the Riven-vibes he gives off, he knows when to shut up).

Layla x Orion: A girl can only handle so much flirting on galactic starsailers before she starts noticing a kind of chemistry she tried to suppress from budding for years after a huge personal loss. Are LxO a match made in heaven? Probably not, but they offer interesting perspectives to each other and are both happy with a casual relationship at that point. Things get tense about a year in when Layla pitches that she does want something more permanent and Orion’s first instinct is to nope out of there. But despite themself, Orion has to realise they really like Layla way too much just to let her go because of their attachment issues. The actual relationship between them is a bit on hold until after everything in the Universe is sorted, but in the meantime Orion becomes the biggest supporter of Layla going her own way and exploring independence away from what people expect of her. Deciding that being a nymph and protecting the whole Universe is way more important to her than following the path the circumstances of her birth set out for her, Layla eventually settles with her partner sailing the winds of the cosmos.

Daphne x ?: Immortal Queen. Needs no one in life except maybe her right-hand woman to lean on 👀 

Some one-sided crushes that went nowhere, but were sweet anyway:

Musa x Layla: not a secret that Musa had a thing for Layla when she transferred to Alfea in S2

Sky x Riven: Due to his amnesia, Sky idiotically forgot he was already out as bi and had a whole crisis, as he developed a tiny crush on Riven of all people

Icy x Tritannus: Gets an honourable mention here because it wasn’t true love, but obsession with power on both sides

Musa x Stella: Not as pronounced as Musa’s other crushes, but on the down low she always softly admired Stella and it turns out what she felt wasn’t envy like internalised societal expectations made her believe 

Diaspro x Sky: Once again, a bit more obsessive than loving. Diaspro saw Sky like a lifeline and she hyperfocused on being able to call a husband her own. After her betrayal and prison time she mellows out, gets pardoned and gets a kind of “stupid, but loving” bf who would kiss the floor she walks on.

[artificialqueens]

What's Her Name? (Gigi x Nicky) - Mina

A/N: I’m working really hard on a fairy au right now (go to @goodemornting for updates on that lmao) but in the meantime I wanted to do something different! I hope you all enjoy it :)

Your soulmates name shows up on your arm when you turn 15. Gigi’s only problem is that her’s is in French, and she doesn’t speak a word of it.

Soulmates are a pretty common thing. Realistically they shouldn’t be; even with someone’s name written on your arm, what are the odds you’re going to find them in a sea of seven and a half billion people? Not only is it unlikely, it’s improbable. What if you have a name on your arm like John Smith? How many John Smiths do you have to go through before you can find the “one and only”? Soulmates were romanticized, and frankly unnecessary in Gigi’s humble opinion. She wouldn’t have had the slightest interest in finally finding her own but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t at least have some idea of who their soulmate is. There are a lot of tells, like what language the name is written in, what gender the name is usually assigned to, stuff like that. Probably the biggest reason why so many people in the world have managed to find their soulmates is because they care so much about it. Apparently there’s also like, a gut feeling you get, when you meet them. Like you know for a fact that they’re the one and only. She’d never experienced it herself, but according to the people in her life who had met their soulmates before, there’s just some kind of pull, like on an instinctual level. This subconscious feeling you have that they’re the right person for you. And when the names match up - well, there’s really no way to deny it, at that point.

It’s kind of a sweet notion, in a way. To know someone all your life by a set of letters and then when you finally get to meet them, that they’re the right person, and they’ve been thinking of you too. Gigi was independent sure, career driven and logical, but she would’ve been lying if she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what her soulmate might look like, what perfume they might use, what their favorite band might be. It was drilled into her since she was younger, in her defense, but that yearning feeling that encased every bone in her body whenever she accidentally glanced down at the cursive words delicately engraved on her arm made her wish that she could just find them already, so she could focus on more important things than the love of her life.

The only problem was, that the name imprinted neatly on her arm just happened to not be written in English, but some terrible variation of French.

Truth be told, she’d started studying French ever since google translate had helpfully informed her that’s what language the name was written in. She knows it starts with N, probably ends in L or Y, but her soulmates parents must’ve decided to give their child the most unique spelt name on the planet because the letters every French person had told her that the name possessed didn’t form anything that has much of a ring to it. She really hoped it was a girl’s name, because, well, it would be pretty inconvenient for her if her soulmate was a guy (Considering that she’s, like, a lesbian, and all). But other than that there were absolutely no indicators as to what it could say.

It used to bother her a lot more when she was younger. Being seventeen and knowing absolutely no characteristics of your soulmate is both pretty rare and pretty sad, but it’d never been her primary concern. She had other things to fill her life with, like good friends and family, school, art, overpriced coffee. It was frustrating that she couldn’t read it, but also extremely easy to distract herself from. Besides, having no way of knowing what the her soulmates name was gave her plenty of time and energy to spend helping her friends with their soulmate problems, and there’s plenty of those to go around.

Gigi stirred her tea, poking her tongue out slightly from between her lips. She hated that all the tapioca pearls end up sinking to the bottom, she didn’t want to put the straw in only halfway and get a mouthful of tea, but at the same time she didn’t want to drink all the boba all at once because it’s all pooled at the bottom. There were probably more important things that she could be focusing on right now, but this was a major pet peeve of hers. She cares a whole lot about how her bubble tea is consumed! The tapioca should be dispersed evenly throughout the drink, anything else is a disgrace.

Jan looked between her own two multicolored drinks, narrowing her eyes in contemplation. She was probably trying to decide which one to drink first, but it’s still pretty funny to watch. After Gigi had given up on fiddling around with the tapioca pearls, she sipped her tea and laced her fingers together, leaning forward to look at the blonde closer.

“You could try drinking the one they gave you for free.” She remarked, Jan’s golden brown eyes sliding up to meet hers with a sheepish smile. They’d been best friends since grade school but she still got way too easily embarrassed when Gigi gave her advice, it was pretty stupid. “Since you like the other one more, right?”

“I mean,” Jan pouted again, cocking her head like an upset puppy. “I like taro and lychee evenly, I just wanted lychee this time.”

“Hmm.” Gigi hummed, chewing her lip. “I’m trying to decide if you’re an immediate satisfaction kinda girl or the kind to bide your time. Or you could alternate between the two. Get a good mix of the one you’re in the mood for and the one you’re not in the mood for to keep you going.”

“That’s pretty gross, Gigi.” The older pointed out, wearing a wry smile. “It’s weird that I even have two to begin with.”

“Business as usual for you,” she chided, taking another sip of her single strawberry flavoured tea. Jan was lucky, generally. Gigi didn’t mean that in a jealous way, it was just true, and a little unnerving, at times. The fact that whoever ordered the taro bubble tea had completely took off, prompting the worker to offer it to the blonde, wasn’t even surprising to her at this point. Jan was even lucky in the soulmate department, kinda. The name on her arm was Jacquline Cox, pretty basic, and apparently they’d already met - though Jan hadn’t given her a lot of information about the mystery woman other than something about long dark hair and Persian food.

“It makes me feel awkward,” Jan complained with a sigh. “Who comes to a cafe and orders two boba teas?

“People who are really thirsty, probably.”

“I guess you’re right,” She conceded, but she still looked apprehensive, so Gigi reached across the table and grabbed the taro drink to take a long sip of it. She wasn’t the biggest fan of taro (It’s hard to describe, it’s too earthy for her taste?) but the eyebrow raise from the older woman was funny, so it was worth the slightly unpleasant flavour. “Gigi?”

The brunette glanced up from the tea, watching as Jan’s lip curled up harshly, thinking about her next choice of words. “You said wanted to catch up today?” She asked after a moment, and Gigi buffered briefly before nodding.

“Yeah. It’s so weird not going to the same school.” Gigi smiled sadly, drawing a smiley face in the condensation of her cup, “I’m not used to not seeing you every day, but you said the new school is better, right?”

“It’s not much different than the one we went to last year,” Jan shrugged, “But it’s a good school. It’s nice going somewhere where people don’t all remember me from primary.” She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s how I met Jackie, so I can’t be too mad about it.”

Gigi can’t help being a little bit more attentive after she hears the name, but she’s not very expressive at the best of times, so there probably wasn’t much more than a slight shift in her expression. The shorter woman was pretty good at picking up on that stuff, though, so she wasn’t surprised at the knowing smirk smiling back it her. “You know, you could just ask if you want me to tell you about her.”

Gigi winked, leaning forward on the table and resting her head against her hands. “Tell me then, what’s Miss Jacqueline like?”

“She’s from Iran, transfer student, stupidly funny, super smart, tall,” Jan sounded wistful, smiling serenely. The expression was generally deceiving, but thankfully Gigi had a pretty good idea of how to read her, too. It comes with being best friends for so long. She chewed her boba, waving a hand to encourage the blonde to continue. “I’ve been so happy lately, she really completes me. I don’t think she likes me much yet though.”

Gigi swallowed, narrowing her eyes. “Hmmm, maybe she’s just nervous. Does she have eyes? You’re pretty attractive.” She hesitated, “Probably.”

“Thank you,” Jan giggled, “But that’s not really what I meant.” She sighed, swirling her tea with her straw. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ve got time.” She hinted, rather than say that she’d been waiting on this tea since Jan had first mentioned meeting her soulmate, and that she’d been starved of this kind of thing in her own life so she was more than happy to be hearing about it in her friends.

Gigi had never been good at any of that… romantic stuff, which people often found surprising given how confident she was normally. She didn’t read often, but on the rare occasion that she did, and she got to the romantic part of a book, she felt terribly flustered the whole time through. She had no composure. She’d just have no idea what to say, or what might be tactful to do in any situation. Sure, holding hands and cuddling sounded nice, but beyond that- things like communication, and physical gestures of affection, were intimidating. Not scary, necessarily, or unappealing (because wow Gigi loved to be kissed by g… girls…) but definitely intimidating. A large part of her was worried that when she eventually met her soulmate, she’d embarrass herself with a total lack of expertise in that area. Then again, the whole point of a soulmate is that they’re your one and only, so maybe they’d both be completely unequipped to handle what being a soulmate might entail. In general Gigi was most worried about identifying them, though. Who’s to say that they’d know English? Maybe they don’t know what the name - which was hopefully written nicely since her handwriting could be terrible at times - on their arm says either.

Jan groaned. “She’s so nice to me but she’ll never initiate it? Like if I compliment her she goes along with it otherwise it feels forced?”

Gigi scoffs, picking at her nails, the answer is fairly obvious. “It sounds like she’s doing that thing that people do in the movies.” She dipped her thumb in the puddle of water that’d formed on the table from the drips of condensation dripping off her drink. “What’s it called, playing hard to get?”

“Y’know, that does sound kinda accurate,” Jan smiled, which told Gigi that shes completely right. She’s glad for that, too, because she really just repeated platitudes. “Why don’t we talk about something else? You haven’t told me how you’ve been, recently.”

By the time they’d both finished their bubble teas (as well as the taro one in the middle of the table), they figured it’d be a good time to head home. Gigi begged the shorter woman to keep her posted on the Jackie situation, and Jan swore that she would with a roll of her eyes.

The brunette’s text came in while she was at the mall. When her phone vibrated, she stopped for a second to check the notification. It was Jan, of course, the paragraph of emojis next to her name lighting up Gigi’s lock screen.

The blonde has texted her a picture; she doesn’t recognize the subject of the photo, but she can only assume that it’s the Jackie Cox soulmate woman, or else there’d be no reason for the candid shot. She’s facing away from the camera, looking off into a cityscape, but her head is turned very slightly, and there’s a fond smile practically glowing off of her face. From what Gigi can see, her eyes are a deep wood brown, she’s freakishly tall and probably towers over Jan, and her hair is dark and curled slightly at the tips. She nods sagely, this woman and Jan would look like a cliche Pinterest board aesthetic together. The Persian woman is beaming, which probably means that the two getting along just fine- which is contrary to what Jan had told her so mayb-

Someone (or something? But she’s pretty sure it’s a someone because whatever it is is warm) collides into Gigi’s shoulder, and knocks not only her phone out of her hands, but also her feet out from under her. With an undignified sound, she watches the ground get closer to her, and then blinks in confusion when it suddenly stops roughly a foot away from her face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!” it’s a woman’s voice, Gigi thinks, and vaguely accented, but her English sounds pretty okay. When she turns her head she is accutly aware of of pale blonde hair brushing against the woman’s shoulders, the sweet scent of honeysuckle perfume, a Lana Del Rey shirt tightly hugging her chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you alright? Mon dieu, your phone..”

Huh? Gigi followed her line of sight and noticed that her phone was on the floor some ways away. As soon as her eyes landed on it, the blonde woman kneels and lifts it up delicately, wiping it off with the silky red scarf she’s wearing. It’s at that moment that it occurs to her that she’s still being held up by the other girl, and when she’s pulled to her feet, she takes a step back and chews her thumbnail, blinking at the vision before her.

This girl is fairly tall, definitely has an inch or two on Gigi. Her hair is shiny, concealed by a stylish black beret, and her eyes are sharp and seemingly all knowing. She’s remarkably pretty, Gigi’s heart beginning to get that fluttery feeling she gets whenever she makes eye contact with an unfortunately attractive girl her age. She tries to calm it down, though, because she can’t imagine that going all ditzy-highschooler on this girl will help the interaction any. It’s awkward enough as it is.

“I’m fine,” She says quietly, before the blonde girl can begin to fret about her phone. “I shouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the walkway on my phone, so it’s my fault, probably.” Gigi wipes down the wrinkles in her shirt, watching relief cross over the girl’s features. She’s looks French, the brunette concedes. Like she stylishly sell you a baguette on the side of the street, and her accent further hints at it. She’s probably around Gigi’s age as well.

“I’m happy that you aren’t mad.” The girl smiles. “But it’s still my fault.” She clears her throat, rubbing the back of her neck. “Could I make it up to you?” The way she asks it is curious, like she has some sort of other reason for asking, but Gigi holds her tongue. “I was going to this restaurant- pardon me, my name is Nicolette — are you free right now? – Not that you have to be, we could do it later – they make a really good stir-fry.”

For a pretty girl, Nicky stutters more than Gigi would’ve expected. It’s cute, charming almost, and the offer sounds great right about now. “That sounds fine.” She smiles, suddenly forgetting whatever she had come to the mall for because stir fry and French woman definitely sounded like her cup of tea.

“Perfect! I didn’t catch your name, by the way,” Nicolette - that’s a long name, maybe she could shorten it to Nicky - remarks thoughtfully, and Gigi realises that she’s a fool.

“Gigi.” She replies, and then adds, “Goode. My name is Gigi Goode.” Inwardly she scolds herself, that introduction could’ve been much smoother. For a minute she thinks she was so weird about it that Nicky has been thoroughly unsettled, but it crosses her mind after a bit of thought that the French woman’s comically widening eyes probably isn’t on account of her stuttering.

“Gigi Goode?” Echoes the girl. “Wait, uhm,” she shakes her head quickly, eyes frantically flicking between her arm and Gigi’s own, which is concealed by her coat sleeve. “Do you-” Nicky fumbled with her shirt, yanking it up with one hand. When Gigi looks down at the girl’s arm, she sees some incredibly familiar letters written, tiny hearts dotting every i. “Do you spell your name with-”

“Yeah. Yeah - yeah I do.“ The brunette interrupts, vision suddenly becoming blurry. She pulls up her own sleeve, feeling like she’s in some kind of a stupor, and holds out her forearm shakily to the taller woman. “Is this your name? I’ve never been able to read it.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“That is certainly my name,” Nicky replies, voice high pitched and frantic. “It’s spelt weird, you know, with the q and u and stuff but - merde that’s my name.”

Honestly, Gigi isn’t really capable of thinking clearly right now, but by the sounds of it she might’ve just found her soulma-

She gets knocked off her feet for second time within five minutes. This time, though, Nicky isn’t able to catch her, because though Nicky is again the reason she goes down, the blonde’s arms are occupied by being thrown tightly around Gigi’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad to meet you!” The woman bursts out, and the brunette’s face warms at the close proximity. “I came to America to look for you, did you know that? I suppose you wouldn’t, as we’ve never met before, but I- well- I’ve been searching for so long and some days I felt like I would never find you- that is a bit too much information for a first meeting, sorry, - and I’ve knocked you over again too, oh-”

“It’s okay,” Gigi dismisses quickly. “I don’t mind.” She doesn’t, though her face is definitely like a thousand degrees right now. Nicky beams at her, strands of angel blonde hair falling in front of her eyes, and Gigi swallows down a bit of flustered anxiety. Her heart is beating hard, she can hardly hear anything through it’s ringing in her ears, and Nicky can definitely feel it, but it’s not so embarrassing when she realises that the other girl’s heart is beating just as fast. At the same tempo, even, though it might be a bit presumptuous to say as much. She clears her throat a few times, trying to figure out something cool to say. “Uhm, well, how about that stir-fry then?”

Not quite, but close enough, because Nicky’s responding smile feels like a billion dollars.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (151/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.  

[27 February, Age 850.    Toki Toki City.]

"I'll be honest," Trunks said.    "I don't know if we can rely on her."

He stood in the kitchen of Chronoa's house, his lavender hair casting a gloomy shadow over his concerned brow.    The Vault of Time looked like a fortress in the center of the Time Nest, a daunting structure of grey stone.   In sharp contrast, the Supreme Kai of Time lived in a modest Capsule house, with rocket engines and other half-assembled machines scattered all around it.   The epicenter of this clutter lay inside the house, where Chronoa maintained a collection of gadgets and nick-nacks.   Some were displayed on overcrowded shelves, while others lay in various piles strewn in every room.    Trunks had cleared an assortment of vacuum tubes off the stove to brew tea.    

"You made the wish," Chronoa said from her sofa.   "You asked Shenron for a strong ally, one who could help you defend time itself.    And Shenron granted your wish.   He sent you Luffa.    Do you think the Eternal Dragon made a mistake?"

"The Dragon doesn't make mistakes," Trunks said.   "At least, that's what I would have said before today.   But now, she's blown a mission, and she's terrified at the thought of trying again.    What's worse, we can't afford to send anyone else in her place.    The enemy made a big play in that battle with the Ginyu Force, and if we reset the mission we might lose our chance to track them.   Oh, and I almost forgot how she got you hurt."

"You're being unfair," Chronoa said.   "Healing Luffa's injuries was my call, not hers.    You saw how upset she was.  I didn't think we could wait to get her to the hospital."  

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Trunks said.    "Your healing ability transfers the wounds of others onto yourself.   You've used it on me before, and I'm grateful, but... A power like that... Well, it bothers me.   I don't know how else to put it."

"It has its uses," Chronoa said.   "You can learn a lot about someone by taking on their pain for a little while."

The staff at the Toki Toki hospital had healed the Kai, but her movements were slightly stiff and more careful than usual.    Most people wouldn't have noticed, but Trunks could tell.   The healers in Toki Toki City were capable of restoring a person to perfect health in a matter of moments, but somehow they never seemed to finish the job properly when it came to the Supreme Kai of Time.  He didn't know why that was, or what it meant.   So he chose to focus on the kettle and making sure he had the correct burner turned on.

"Are you ready for the water?" Chronoa asked.

Trunks was about to ask what she meant, and then the kettle began to whistle.   As he reached out for the handle, he noticed a slight distortion around the kettle's surface.    Then he looked back and saw the Kai holding out her hand towards the stove.    He had seen her do this before, using her control over the flow of time to speed up or slow down the movements of objects, but he hadn't considered how this could be used to boil water.  

"Uh, thanks," Trunks said.   "I guess that's one ability I can get used to."

He prepared the cups and brought them to the coffee table next to the sofa.  Then he double checked the sofa for any loose circuit boards or cogs.  When he was sure the cushion was clear, he sat down beside her.      

"You're so sure that Luffa will recover from all of this, and then she'll come back and see this mission through," he said.  "I don't suppose you can speed that up the same way you did the kettle."  

"Maybe I could," she said with a childish grin, "but I'm in no hurry with her.   It's like we always say around here: There's time."  

"I know," Trunks said.   "I mean, I understand that Toki Toki City sits outside of the normal flow of time, and that it doesn't matter if we send her back to Namek today or a year from now.   But we still have to send her back eventually, and until we do, we can't do anything else in the meantime."

"Sure we can!" Chronoa said.   "We're having tea, aren't we?"

"I... I'm not gonna win this discussion, am I?" Trunks said with a sigh.    "All right, fine.   Could you at least share with me why you're not worried about Luffa?    Maybe then we could both enjoy our tea."

"Sure!" Chronoa said, "Why didn't you ask sooner?"  She set her cup on the table and held up her hands to start counting her fingers as she spoke.    "First, I know enough about the Dragon Balls to know they wouldn't let us down.   Second, I've learned a thing or two about Saiyans from working with you, Trunks.  I don't think she'll give up on this.    She's too stubborn.   And third... if there's one thing I know about time, it's that it doesn't matter how you start.    It's how you finish.   Each of those wounds she took tells a story.    I'm nothing special when it comes to fighting, but I could tell this much: she was battling harder than her body could handle."  

"What do you mean?" Trunks asked.   "Are you saying she lost because she overexerted herself?"

"I mean," she said as she picked up her cup to sample the tea, "she's stronger than she's letting on.    I don't know if she's sandbagging for some reason, or maybe she doesn't realize what's happening to her.    But she's giving it everything she has.   More than she has to give, really."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Trunks asked.   "What good will it do us if she burns herself out before we get to the bottom of this case?"

"Well, it's a good thing she has you for a partner, then," Chronoa said with a smile.   "Besides, I think you need to give Luffa some more credit.   She knew better than to dive right back into the mission.   I'm sure she's taking some time to rest and recover before she tries again."

"I hope you're right," Trunks said as he sipped his tea.  

*******

[3 November, Age 762.  Earth.]

Luffa used to be the Legendary Super Saiyan, but she no longer had that extraordinary power.    She didn't know why, unless it had something to do with her attempted self-destruction on Planet Nagaoka, or the intervention of Shenron, a mystical dragon who had reached out across time and space to pull her out of that battle and into the ranks of the Time Patrol.    Luffa had fully expected to die on Nagaoka, but instead she wound up in the distant future, an era where the Saiyan species was nearly extinct, and the legend of Luffa had been utterly forgotten.   With no other prospects, she threw herself into the work of the Time Patrol, until she was traumatized during a mission involving a bodyswap with the villainous Captain Ginyu.

Fear and shame had given way to boredom, and Luffa had decided to try a different activity to take her mind off her troubles.   Her roommate had suggested a "Parallel Quest", and she had found a pair of Time Patrollers who offered to show her how they worked.   They had planned to handle all the fighting while Luffa sat back and watched, but things had gotten out of hand.    

"Luffa... run!" begged Ravi.   The enemy had defeated him almost instantly, and Ravi's boyfriend, the Saiyan Mosh, was the next to fall.   As Luffa knelt beside Ravi, the enemy floated high above and charged a ki attack in his index finger.  Ravi's advice was very sensible.    

Except Luffa couldn't run.   "I'm stuck!" she told Ravi.    "Some kind of psychic hold..."

"I can... reverse it!" Ravi promised.   The Earthling held up his hand and offered it to her.    "Take my hand, and be ready to move."

Their enemy was another Earthling called Chiaotzu, but he looked nothing like the little person Luffa had encountered in other missions to this era.  Chiaotzu was at least four times his original size now, with bulging muscles and a look of unthinking hatred in his eyes.  When Ravi saw him, he addressed Chiaotzu as his Master.   It followed that Chiaotzu had taught Ravi how to apply this psi-lock, and how to reverse it.    

And then, just as Chiaotzu fired his beam, Luffa felt her body slip free of the psychic power, and she leaped out of harm's way.    The ground beneath her exploded into a fiery crater, and she alighted onto the top of a butte.  

Ravi wasn't pleased with her decision to bring him along for the ride.    

"What're you... doing?" he asked.    "I'll only slow you down!   You gotta... get Mosh out of here!"

"That's exactly what that big goof is counting on," Luffa said, gesturing toward Chiaotzu in the distance.   "As soon as I put you down, he'll slap another psychic whammy on me, and I'll be finished.   But as long as I keep you close by, you can protect me from those weird powers of his."

"Girl, that won't work!" Ravi protested.   "He'll just come in close and pick you off!   You can't fight and carry me at the same time!"

"I'm not going to fight him," Luffa said.   "Not yet, anyway.   I have to save your lover first."  

"He...! I...!   I mean, we're dating, but we aren't that serious yet!" Ravi stammered.    

Luffa might have apologized for the presumption, but Chiaotzu opened fire one again, forcing her to hop from one rock formation to the next to stay clear of his attacks.   The hard part came when she reached Mosh's position, and had to carry them both.   Their combined weight was no trouble, but the easiest way to handle a Saiyan of Mosh's size was to drag him by his tail, and Luffa felt bad for putting him though such an undignified situation.   Luckily, his ordeal was brief, as she made it to their time machine soon after.    

"Inside!" Luffa shouted as she kicked open the canopy with her foot and dropped Mosh in.   The Saiyan was nearly as tall as the corrupted Chaiotzu, but the time machine was big enough to hold three passengers, so she knew they would fit with room to spare.   "You'll be safe in there."  

"Luffa wait!" Ravi cried.   "We--"

She might have stopped to listen, except Chiaotzu had closed in on her while she was dropping them off.   With her arms free, Luffa swatted aside his ki blasts, but then he locked on his psychic hold, and she was immobilized in midair.    

"Come on!" she growled, unable to do anything else.   "Free shot, if you're brave enough to take it!"

For Chiaotzu's part, it wasn't a matter of bravery, but rather the irrational rage that consumed his thoughts like a brushfire.   He charged toward Luffa, and began to pummel her with his massive fists.   Luffa had been in a similar pinch while fighting Guldo of the Ginyu Force, but she decided against the strategy she had used before.   In that battle, she had push against the psychic lock with her own telepathic abilities.   At the time, it had seemed sensible, but she didn't want to become over-reliant on her Saiyan telepathy.    She wasn't sure it would be available the next time she faced Guldo...

The next time... while she was trapped in...

... in Captain Ginyu's body...

As Chiaotzu worked her over, the realization hit her that much harder.     Despite her fears, without really being aware of it, she had already made up her mind to go back and try again.    She had come to this "parallel quest" in an effort to distract herself from the Ginyu mission, but in her heart of hearts, she was still fighting that last battle, even as she fought a new one against this mutated Chiaotzu.  

There was something terrific and horrifying about this.   It was as though her Saiyan heart would push her forward no matter badly she wanted to give up.   Saving Ravi and Mosh had almost been second nature to her.   Less than an hour ago, Luffa had been curled up in a fetal position in the shower.    

And then, at last, the answer came to her.   If Chiaotzu wanted her to hold still so badly, then she would oblige him.    Instead of using her power to try to break free, she concentrated her energy inwards, using every last bit of it to fix herself to that spot.    She clenched her teeth as she waited for the next blow, and when it came...

There was a loud 'clang', and Chiaotzu reeled with pain as he clutched his fist.    Thanks to her ki, Luffa's body had no give to it whatsoever.    She had been unhurt, while Chiaotzu's aching knuckles left him in too much pain to maintain his hold on her.    

"That trick won't work on me anymore," she snarled.   "Get that through your thick skull.    You'll have to try something else if you want to defeat me.  

He glared at her with those wide, enigmatic eyes, then said only one word: "Corn..."

"What?"

Then he rushed towards her, throwing punches and kicks with incredible speed.    "Coooooorrrrrrn!" Chiaotzu wailed, seemingly for no reason.  

"My name's Luffa, not Corn, you idiot!" she screamed.   Fast as he was, she managed to weather the assault and responded with an explosive wave.   It wasn't enough to defeat him, but it did give her some breathing room.  

She pressed the attack, and danced around him, shifting left and right through the air to catch him off balance.   But whenever she went in to strike, he was always ready to block.  

"Hold on... You're good," Luffa said.   "But not this good.  What are you trying now...?"

(Luffa, he's reading your mind!)

She suddenly heard Ravi's voice in her own thoughts, and she glanced back at the time machine to make certain he and Mosh were still inside.    Chiaotzu capitalized on this by kicking Luffa in the head.    The blow sent her down to the ground, hard enough to shatter a nearby hillside, but not enough to defeat her.  

"Oh, is that right?" Luffa grumbled after coughing up some dust.   "I should have figured that out sooner."

(In my native era, Chiaotzu was an old man,) Ravi explained.   (I didn't have much going for me, but he took me in.  I was stealing food from his farm, and he invited me to join his dojo.   He offered me a chance to become a warrior.   This... this isn't how he's supposed to be!)

"I know that," Luffa said as she dodged another Dodonpa.    "He's been corrupted by the same evil magic as the others.    In this time fragment, the enemy must have used their power on him instead of Vegeta.  Or... hell, I don't know."

"Nine...!" Chiaotzu groaned.     "Minus... One!"

Luffa threw a punch, expecting him to block and counter.    She fully intended to reverse his counter, but instead she was surprised to see her punch connected this time.   It wasn't enough to stop Chiaotzu, but it did stagger him.  

"Well now..." Luffa said with a grin, "maybe you're not as tough as I thought."   She tried to follow through with a roundhouse kick, but Chiaotzu blocked this one and caught her in a throw.  Before she could escape, Chiaotzu caught her with another psychic hold, and she was helpless to stop herself from being hurled into a cliffside.  

"Left!  Right!" Chiaotzu screamed.    "Right, right, right!   Left!"

Luffa took her frustration out on the rubble that surrounded her, blasting it all away until she was standing in the center of a crater.    "I've had enough of your riddles!" she shouted back.   "Do your worst.  I won't back down until--"

"Disappear!" Chiaotzu said in a dreary monotone.    And then he did disappear.    Or at least, it seemed like he had.    Faster than Luffa's eyes could follow, Chiaotzu suddenly appeared behind her, and caught her in a full nelson.    With his immense size and power, the pain of the hold was incredible.    

"Dis... a... peeeear....!" Chiaotzu said as Luffa grunted and struggled to break free.    "Wish..."

"Shut up!" Luffa shouted.   "You'll wish you were dead when I'm finished with you!"    

But for all her bluster, Chiaotzu's psychic effect was making it difficult for her to escape the hold.    Luffa considered herself an expert on such things.   Joint locks were one of her specialties, and every hold she knew was accompanied by the way to escape.   But these all depended on being able to control herself, and her body just wasn't responsive enough.    

(Luffa, that's it!)  She heard Ravi in her mind again.   (He wants you to beat him!)

"Oh he does, does he?   Well... he's got... got a funny way of showing it," Luffa snarled.  

(Listen to me!   When I was younger, he told me the story of King Piccolo.   The Demon King gathered the Dragon Balls to wish for his youth, but Tien Shinhan told Chiaotzu to stop Piccolo by trying to make a wish first!   'Wish for King Piccolo to disappear!' that was what Chiaotzu tried to say, but Piccolo killed him before he could get it out!)

"Left, right, left right!" Chiaotzu droned on.   Suddenly, Luffa felt herself moving forward.    Chiaotzu's hold was as tight as ever, but he was floating forward, sliding across the air like a stone sliding over ice.    He drove Luffa into a mesa.   Then another, then another.    Each time, the stone broke apart on Luffa's face like a punch from an angry giant.

(He wants you to kill him! To beat him)  Ravi said.    (That's his wish!)

"And how--ow!   Does he expect me to do that?!    Ow!  Dammit!"  

"Nine!    Minus!   One!" Chiaotzu wailed.  

(That's it!) Ravi said.   (When he fought Krillin in the World Martial Arts Tournament!    Master Chiaotzu was always bad at math.   Krillin beat him by calling out arithmetic problems, and he'd get so flustered trying to solve them that he'd leave himself wide open!)

"Fine!" Luffa muttered.     "Hey, Chiaotzu!  What's the square root of twelve?!"

She tried to kick at his thighs, hoping that she could cramp up his quadriceps muscle enough to make him loosen the full nelson, but instead Chiaotzu's psychic attack intensified, and she could barely move her leg enough to tap him with her heel.    

"It didn't work!" she shouted, just as Chiaotzu drove her face first into another butte.    

(That's because it was too hard!)   Ravi said.  

"Well, is he bad at math or not?!" Luffa demanded.  

(Whoa, easy now.   Easy,) Ravi said.   (We're on the same side here!)

Luffa knew this on a factual level, but she was getting sick of Ravi's voice in her head, almost as much as she was sick of Chiaotzu's power locking up her muscles.    

"What's six plus two, Chiaotzu?!" she shouted, desperate to get this over with.    She almost hoped it wouldn't work, if only to disprove Ravi's suggestion.    And yet...

"Uh... uhhhh..." Chiaotzu grumbled, and Luffa could feel her toes again, and a slight relief in her shoulders as his grip slackened.  

"Hah!" Luffa said as she twisted her arms and slid free of Chiaotzu's hold.   She withdrew to a safe distance, then opened fire with a volley of ki blasts.    She expected Chiaotzu to avoid or deflect them, but they were nothing more than a diversion anyway.  

"On your left!" Luffa shouted as she rushed headlong at him.    Sure enough, Chiaotzu turned, expecting her to attack him on that side.    She swerved at the last possible instant and blindsided him on his right.  

"Ino...Shiko...Cho..." Chiaotzu moaned.    

"Two minus three," Luffa said.   It was almost disturbing how easy this was becoming.    She hesitated a moment before trying a kick to Chiaotzu's abdomen, and yet she still managed to land the blow, and the elbow smash between his shoulders after that.  

"What's 'InoShikoCho'?" Luffa asked aloud, hoping that Ravi was still listening.    

(It's what he called one of our practice drills back at the dojo,) Ravi said.   (Only... I don't know what that has to do with anything.)

"Don't worry," Luffa said.   "I'll try and find out for myself--"   As she spoke, Chiaotzu lumbered towards her, and she ducked under his massive hands and grabbed hold of his face.    She hadn't tried a telepathic reading in a long time, but in her last Time Patrol mission, she had seen the Saiyan Son Goku use it on Krillin, which led her to suspect that she had recovered enough of her former strength to do the same.    The Saiyans had a peculiar range of psychic talents, but before Luffa could reminisce on this, the images came flooding into her mind.

His name was Chiaotzu, and long ago he had trained under the Crane Hermit, a master whose skill was matched only by his cruelty and bitterness.   The Old Crane School taught the ways of treachery and deception.    Among these lessons was the InoShikoCho, a beast with the body of a boar and the antlers of a stag and the wings of a butterfly.    To raise money during their training journeys, Chiaotzu and Tien Shinhan would use the InoShikoCho to grift small, isolated villages.   The Crane Hermit had adopted it as a pet and trained it well, but it could pretend to be a wild animal when needed, and Tien and Chiaotzu would unleash it in villages, then offer to "capture" the beast... for a price.   After pretending to subdue the InoShikoCho, and collecting their reward, they would move on to the next village and repeat the process.    

But one day, Son Goku intervened.    Stumbling upon the three of them sharing a meal between villages, he learned of their trickery, and when he tried to expose them, Tien was forced to betray the InoShikoCho to cover his tracks.   After that, Tien and Chiaotzu knew that the creature would never trust them again.   Eventually, Chiaotzu felt a similar grief when Tien defied the Crane Hermit, and Chiaotzu had to choose a side.    The Crane Hermit swore he would have revenge, and when he returned, it was with his brother, the assassin Tao Pai-Pai, who beat Chiaotzu so badly at the World Martial Arts Tournament that he had to be carried out on a stretcher.  

And this was what ran through Chiaotzu's mind now while he fought Luffa.    Beneath the mindless rampage forced upon him by the dark magic, there was an undercurrent of sadness and regret and longing to be done with betrayal.   As Ravi had said, in this moment, Chiaotzu wished for nothing more than to be made to disappear.

The depths of this despair shocked Luffa, so much so that when she snapped out of her mental link, Chiaotzu was able to knock her back with a well-placed chop to her neck.  It was not enough to defeat her.    Luffa knew that it would never be.   For in spite of the increase in power the dark magic gave Chiaotzu, he was still holding back.    The Earthling had that much willpower, at least.    

"I see," Luffa said to him.    "So this is the resolve of you Earthlings, then.   Even in this sorry state, you keep fighting to resist this power that's come over you.   It's impressive.    Four minus three."

She dodged his next offensive and went around him, catching him in a belly-to-back suplex.   This wasn't enough to stop him, but she was no longer trying to defeat him.    Now that she understood how to beat him, she could secure victory at her leisure.    Until then, she simply used her attacks to buy enough time to say her peace.

"I might not look it," she said, "but I used to be somebody important, a long time ago.    Left left right."    Chiaotzu fired the Dodonpa again, but she grabbed his arm and spoiled his aim, then swung around and brought her knee into his face.  

"I'm not telling you this to brag.    I'm not much of anyone now, not anymore.   But I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I'm someone who impressed a lot of people, and you've impressed me today.   Not sure if you can understand what I'm saying, but I needed to get it off my chest, okay?   Your students, your memories, your pride, everything you are keeps fighting, even after your mind and body have been corrupted like this.   It's... comforting.    Twelve plus six.    Galick Gun."

Now she was ready to defeat him.   The Galick Gun she fired came quickly, with as little warning as she could give.    That made it weaker than it could have been, but Ravi's prediction was true: Chiaotzu was so distracted by the numbers that he was virtually defenseless.   Even a weak Galick Gun would be enough to knock him out.    She intensified the power anyway, once she was certain he was too overwhelmed to stop it.    

"I see what I have to do now!" she shouted.    And then with a savage cry, she chased after Chiaotzu, and leaped down beside him where he fell.    

"You've shown me the way," she said in a low voice as she checked to make certain he was beaten.    The dark energy dissipated, and his body began to shrink to its normal size.    "I'm in your debt, Earthman.   I guess I should cook something tasty for your student Ravi, who honors your teachings."

Satisfied that the immediate danger was over, Luffa gathered Chiaotzu in her arms, and went back to the time machine to collect Ravi and Mosh.    

*******

[28 February Age 850.   Toki Toki City.]

"That should hold, for now anyway."

In the Time Vault, Trunks and the Supreme Kai of Time stood before the large table at the center of the atrium.    She had just finished performing a supernatural treatment on a section of parchment from the Scroll of Eternity.   Trunks did not even pretend to understand how it worked, but she said it would help, and that was good enough for him.    

"Let's hope it lasts," Trunks said.    "I've checked for signs of enemy activity.   Nothing so far, but I can't believe they'll stay quiet for long.   If they strike again...  I don't suppose you can contain the ripples from two time anomalies, can you?"

The Kai looked up at him with a confident smirk.    "Hey, I can do a lot of things, you know?"   This made him feel a little better, but there was still a hint of worry in her eyes that kept him from smiling.    

"At least we know if they strike somewhere else, we can send other Time Patrollers to deal with that," Trunks said.   He gestured at the scroll on the table, which still roiled with purple energy.   "But we can't resolve this current anomaly without Luffa, and there's no telling how long that could take."

"She'll be back," Chronoa said.    "And we'll manage until she's ready."

He was about to reply, when suddenly a third voice called out.

"Trunks!"

He had already turned to face the entryway before he heard the voice.    His ki senses had told him who it was, but he was still surprised nonetheless.    Luffa marched up to the table with purpose and laid a casserole dish on the table with a loud thud.    

"Luffa!   Y-you're back?" Trunks asked.  

"I would have gotten here sooner, but I wanted to make sure Chiaotzu was okay, only they told me I couldn't bring him back to the city.    Parallel Quest stuff.    It's over my head."

"You went on a Parallel Quest?" Trunks asked.   "We thought you were resting..."

"After that," Luffa went on,  "I made pasta for Ravi and Mosh.    Took me a while, but I'm pleased with how it turned out.   I made too much, and this is what wouldn't fit in the refrigerator.   You like lasagna, Trunks?"

"Uh, sure," he said.  

She stared at him, as though suspicious of his answer.    "Good.   Help yourself."   She then looked at the Kai and added.    "You too, Chronoa, if gods eat this sort of thing.    Oh, you know what?  I didn't bring any plates."    

"I've got some in my house," Chronoa said.   "We'll manage, but we really need to talk about how we're going to handle this scroll..."

"We already did talk about that, remember?" Luffa said.   "And it's pretty simple.   I'm the only one who can finish the mission, because of how I got bodyswapped with Captain Ginyu, right?   So I'm going back in there, right now, and I'm going to finish it."

"Hold on," Trunks said.    "You were in pretty rough shape a few hours ago.   Are you sure you're feeling up to this?"

"I've got it all figured out this time," Luffa said.   "Trust me."  

She didn't even look at Trunks as she spoke, but instead leaned in and took the scroll before anyone could stop her.    And as she vanished into the past, Trunks saw a sadistic grin on her face.  

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

NEXT: The Bluff.

[ghostspideys-moved]

All For The Best

Chapter Eight

A/N: I’m actually pretty proud of this chapter. Don’t forget to leave a comment or reblog if you’ve been enjoying this ride so far.

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x OC

Summary: While El looks for the flayed, Hawthorne reveals a secret he’s been keeping in for a long time.

Somehow, Hawthorne was stuck sitting in the waiting room, watching over the kids. He supposed someone had to look after them, especially since Nancy and Jonathan decided they’d be the ones to visit Mrs. Driscoll.

He was sitting next to El, who was reading a magazine, mostly flipping through and glancing at the pictures. He’d already heard about her break up with Mike, and he didn’t need to be able to read her mind to know it was bothering her. Especially when he’d caught her glancing over in Mike’s direction a few times. 

“How are you holding up?” Hawthorne asked. El glanced up at him, a confused look on her face. “You know, with you and Mike?”

El shrugged. “Okay.”

As she turned back to her magazine, he debated exactly how to help her out. It wasn’t exactly Mike’s fault, though he hadn’t been the smartest either. Hawthorne remembered what Hopper said about his “talk” with Mike, and he couldn’t help feeling that was the real problem here. Not that he was surprised. Even he was a bit annoyed with Hopper handling this the way he had.

“You know, I think you two should talk,” he finally said. “I mean, you both seem miserable without each other?”

“Miserable?” El set her magazine down, clearly wondering what he was getting at. 

“You know, like...sad. But, like, really sad,” Hawthorne explained. “If you two don’t talk to each other, I’m sure it could get a lot worse.”

She at least appeared to be considering her words. Sure, he didn’t know how solid his own advice was, but he was a little tired of watching them tip-toe around each other. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “Like Nancy and Jonathan.”

Hawthorne sighed, slumping in his seat. “Yeah, something like that,” he said. “They’re working it out, but it happens. Fights happen.” It wasn’t like he was some expert on relationships, and he didn’t really know where all of this was coming from, but he hoped it was helping her, even if only a bit.

Turning to her, Hawthorne gave El a reassuring smile. “Just don’t hold a grudge against him, okay? Most guys your age do dumb things.” He was glad that part earned a laugh from her. “Hell, I do dumb things all the time.”

For all his attempts to keep Nancy and Jonathan together, it was taking a toll on him. And, though it was taking some time, it seemed like the two of them were finally making progress. There was still some understanding needing to be reached, but it was something. He didn’t plan on mediating forever. Eventually, they’d have to own up to their own mistakes - they both had some apologizing to do, he was sure - and he was just glad to help kick-start the process. If anything, he didn’t want El and Mike to let this sour their relationship. They were kids, and they deserved to learn from their mistakes just as much as anyone else. 

Hawthorne let his advice sink in and left when Mike came over to talk with El. He was more than happy to give them space to work things out, though he made a mental note to have a talk with Hopper about the mess he’d made.

By now, he was starting to realize Nancy and Jonathan had been gone for a while. And maybe there was nothing to worry about, but he had an awful feeling. It was sitting in his gut, constantly pestering him. With how easily things went to shit again, Hawthorne hoped they were okay. It occurred to him to check on them, but there was no way he was going to get past the receptionist. And if he did manage that and it turned out he was worrying for nothing, he would just feel like an idiot.

Just as his anxiety was starting to get the best of him, the lights started flickering. Normally, Hawthorne might pass it off as nothing, but that usually wasn’t a good sign. He’d learned that by now. Thankfully, he wasn’t the only one to notice, and even worse was how jumpy Will was. The poor kid looked pale and unbelievably freaked out. It was becoming abundantly clear to Hawthorne that he may well have been right to be worried.

Will’s shaky, “he’s here,” was enough for it to dawn on Hawthorne that this was about to get pretty intense, as much as he hated it.

At the very least, they’d missed the action so far, but neither Nancy nor Jonathan looked like they were in very good shape. And as soon as they explained everything that happened, they were off to the cabin. 

Rex came running over when Hawthorne let them all inside, and El ended up locking herself in her room as she tried to track the flayed. Hawthorne tried to busy himself with feeding Rex while everyone else was working out their plans. In the grand scheme of things, he wasn’t sure how to help, and he felt pretty useless. He’d hardly done anything to help. If only he could stop being a coward for just a minute, he might be able to contribute something. 

He’d been so deep in thought that he’d accidentally spilled some of the dog food. His only response was a deep sigh as he moved to clean it up. Hawthorne looked up when he noticed Nancy trying to help. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, trying to find her words.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked. 

If there were any words to describe how he was feeling, “okay” was not one of them. “Fine,” Hawthorne lied, standing again.

It was clear she didn’t totally believe him. Even when they finished cleaning, she didn’t let up. “If this about what’s been happening between Jonathan and I, I’m really sorry you got caught in the middle of it.”

Sure, that might have been part of his stress, but he had no clue how to even explain everything that was going on in his head. It was so much more than that.

“No. I mean, not really.” Hawthorne sighed, looking down. “I guess I’m just stressed out with everything that’s been happening. After last time, I really hoped all of this was behind on.”

The concerned look on her face only made him feel bad for putting all of this on her. Nancy had much bigger things to worry about. Seeming to sense his apprehension, she took his hand and made him look her in the eyes.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” Whether it was true or not, he almost believed her. “We’ll get through this just like last time.”

“Nance, I don’t even know where my sister is, or if she’s even okay. I don’t know where Hop is either, and I feel like I’m doing a terrible job of keeping it together.”

Nancy paused for a moment before asking, “You saw it, didn’t you? When you were walking in the parking lot?”

Hawthorne had almost forgotten about his vision, but he could never forget the dread he felt in that moment. “Yeah. It wasn’t much, really,” he admitted. “But I freaked out.” If it came down to it, he wasn’t sure if he’d really be able to help any of them. This was worse than last year, and he just knew that, given the chance, he’d freeze. Just like he always did.

Somehow, Nancy always had a way of making him feel better, and this was no exception. “You’re stressing yourself out too much,” she said. “Don’t forget. You’re not alone. You have me, Jonathan, the kids, your family. None of us will ever make you deal with this alone.”

Deep down, he knew that. It felt good to hear it, though. Sometimes, he needed a reminder that he wasn’t carrying all of this weight alone. 

Hawthorne offered a slight smile as she kissed him on the cheek. Now that he was feeling at least somewhat better, he let her get back to planning. He let her borrow the phone in the meantime, and he actually managed to feed Rex. The poor dog probably needed it. Hawthorne was feeding him as regularly as possible in all this mess, but he felt bad for leaving him for so long every now and then.

Just as Hawthorne was settled, Nancy finished her final phone call, none of which produced any results. It wasn’t looking so good. With no clue where any of the flayed were, they had no clue what they were doing. It was like they’d just disappeared, and they weren’t any closer to finding the source of the flaying.

Worse still was the argument happening between Mike and Max. Hawthorne didn’t feel so inclined to agree with either of them, no matter how much they yelled. Realistically, both of them were right. He’d learned the hard way that even if they explained to El how damaging it could be to push herself, that didn’t mean it would stop her. Mike was very adamant on finding a new plan, though, and Hawthorne couldn’t blame him. El had been locked up for quite some time now looking for the flayed.

“You’re treating her like some kind of machine when she’s not a machine, and I don’t want her to die looking for the flayed when they’ve obviously vanished off the face of the earth,” Mike snapped. “So can we please just come up with a new plan? Because I love her, and I can’t lose her again.”

His words were met with silence as they sank in. Hawthorne could hardly believe what he’d heard, but Mike said it with such confidence and conviction that it was almost frightening. 

Before anyone could say more, El finally came out of her room. She looked fine, if not a bit exhausted, and Hawthorne thanked whatever omnipotent being there may or may not be that she was okay. 

“What’s going on?” El asked, glancing at each of them curiously.

Mike was quick to cover for them. “Nothing. Nothing.”

“Just a family discussion,” Lucas added.

“Oh.” El seemed satisfied enough with their answer, even if she didn’t totally believe it. “I found him.”

El usually needed some quiet when she was tracking. The TV was turned on, only playing static for her, and her blindfold was back on. Everyone was trying to stay quiet for her sake in the hopes she would find something. 

Thankfully, she found Billy, just like she’d said, though they didn’t have much to go off of with the information she had. He was sitting in his room, which Max confirmed wasn’t normal. It was clearly a trap.

But El was insistent that she might know a way to figure out where he’d been, and while Hawthorne didn’t want her to push herself, he knew it was the only way to get anywhere. They hadn’t been having any success on their own. 

After taking a break, El put the blindfold back on and tried to look again. 

Hawthorne sighed and sat back while she gave it another go. “So, what do we do if this doesn’t work?” he asked quietly, trying not to bother El.

“Don’t you have powers?” Mike asked. “Can’t you help somehow?”

Nancy gave him a stern look. “Mike.”

“We’ve never seen him use them. Maybe he just doesn’t have any,” Lucas said.

“If they took him to the lab, he has to have them.”

Hawthorne raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, hi. Standing right here.”

“Well, do you?” Mike asked.

There was no way around this. Hawthorne was going to have to explain himself eventually, and he knew that. 

“Yeah. It’s just...not a good idea for me to use them,” he claimed.

“But whatever it is you can do, it might help El.”

“I haven’t used them in years. The last time I did that things went wrong.”

“We can’t push everything onto her, though. She’s going to wear herself out.”

“You told her you’d trust her, though.”

“And I do, but I know she could use the help.”

Max finally cut in. “Okay, seriously. You’re gonna break El’s concentration.”

Hawthorne and Mike finally shut up, but they gave each other one last look of disdain. Nancy pulled him and Jonathan over to the kitchen where they wouldn’t bother El.

“Hey, don’t worry about him, okay? He’s just worried,” she said. 

Hawthorne sighed, leaning against the counter. “I know. I get it,” he replied. “I’m just as worried she’s going to wear herself thin, but I don’t think I’d even be all that helpful.”

“What happened the last time you used your powers?” Jonathan asked. “It sounded like it was pretty bad.”

That felt like the understatement of the year. But if he trusted anyone with this, it was both of them. He might as well get it off his chest.

“I just...they made us do a lot of tests, you know? The scientists liked to up the stakes each time, and they’d already learned a lot about my powers. I really just tried to go along with what they asked of me because it was better that way.” Hawthorne swallowed dryly. “Whenever I touch people - any sort of skin contact - I absorb their strength, memories, abilities, sometimes even pieces of their personality. But it always wears off eventually, and they just pass out until it wears off.

“One time, I guess the scientists were curious what would happen if I tried it on one of the other kids. Maybe I could absorb their powers. And they were right. It worked the first few times, and it only lasted about half an hour at most. They’d always be fine afterwards. But one time, it didn’t go that way at all. There was this kid they had me try it out on and-” Hawthorne almost couldn’t finish, but he dismissed their looks of concern, trying to press on. “It didn’t wear off that time. And he went into a coma. Pretty sure he didn’t make it.”

Jonathan placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring look. “How long did it take to wear off?” he asked.

“It didn’t.” Hawthorne avoided their eyes, knowing he’d break down otherwise. “I still have his powers. I don’t use them, but I could any time. It’s kind of been eating at me.”

They shared a look, almost seeming to debate if they should ask him anything else. But he knew they’d stop if he really asked them to. 

Nancy finally braved one more question. “What exactly were his powers?”

Hawthorne hesitated. “Shapeshifting.”

In his mind, it wasn’t anything monumental. Nor was it going to do them any good. And while he had his powers mostly under control by now, he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about knocking anyone else out if he didn’t have to. 

Before he could go into it any further, El announced she’d found the source. They raced over as Max asked where it was. 

“Brimborn...Steelworks.”

Jonathan grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages in a hurry. “Found it. 6522 Cherry Oak Drive.”

“That’s close,” Nancy realized.

El still hadn’t come back yet, which was beyond worrying. Mike was trying to call her back, but it didn’t seem like she could just yet. There wasn’t anything they could do to bring her back. She had to do it herself, but it didn’t look like she was ready yet. 

The room went silent as they waited hopefully for her to get out of there. El finally threw off the blindfold, screaming. 

Hawthorne felt his heart sink when she started crying, throwing herself into Mike’s arms. He raced back to the kitchen and grabbed her a glass of water as Mike calmed her down. They made her sit down and take a drink, giving her enough time to bounce back from whatever she saw. 

Hawthorne was taken by surprise as she clung onto him, clearly exhausted and scared beyond belief. He tried to calm her down, wrapping his arms around her as he let her cry. If he was having any doubts before, they were only growing and settling in his mind, but he would never back out on any of them, but least of all El. Mike had been right about her needing all the help she could get.

//

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