#because there was literally plenty of water available. and room around everyone. we were pretty far back so

[boyapologist]

I didn't mention it yesterday but someone literally passed out right next to me in the premium pit

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Arrange marriage where they knew since they were kids. How will this affect their school life?

The problem with knowing his entire life that he was going to marry Sirius meant that there was never any time to get to know each other. Oh they were forced together plenty of times-- more times than James could count, to be honest-- but they never spent time together just to talk, as friends. Of course, that was probably because they weren't friends. The chance of friendship had been hexed into oblivion when they were all of two years old and their parents signed a marriage contract for them.

They didn't like each other, and that's all there was to it. James tried to stay optimistic and tell himself that they'd grow on each other after they were living together, but every time they were in the same room, his hope for that sank into nothingness. They glared; they sniped; they played pranks on each other that were more mean than entertaining. It got to the point where their parents didn't tell them the location they were meeting at ahead of time so they didn't have time to put anything together.

And that was all before they got to Hogwarts. After that, there was nothing their parents could do to keep them from picking fights with each other.

A month into first year, and they had their nights filled with detention. Their fellow Gryffindors had taken to shunning them for all the points they'd lost, which meant that they spent more time around each other; they just didn't enjoy themselves very much. A while later, they both received strongly worded letters from their parents telling them to clean up their act. At once. Naturally, James and Sirius both went out of their ways to make sure they didn't get caught as often instead of actually being nicer to each other.

When they were thirteen though, they called a truce. James was tired of polishing old trophies-- he was pretty sure he'd cleaned up Hogwarts's entire collection during his years of detention-- and he knew that Sirius was tired of checking his bed for traps every night before he went to sleep.

Calling a truce didn't make them nice to each other, though.

"What the fuck are you eating?" James asked.

"Toast, you berk. When was the last time you got your eyes checked?"

James rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I can see that you're eating toast, arsehole. I meant why?"

"Because it's breakfast. That's when most people eat things like toast."

"Toast doesn't have enough calories. You need to eat more."

"Don't tell me what to do," Sirius said, glaring at him.

Peter sighed heavily. "Aren't you two getting along? I thought you said that."

"What we said was that pranking each other was no longer worth our time," Sirius said. He then took an overly large bite of toast and chewed it angrily. 

"It keeps the dormitory quiet, like you asked," James added. "Really, add beans or something. You're going to starve to death."

"I've managed to not die my entire life without you sticking your nose in my eating habits, and I will continue to be just fine without your input. So bugger off."

"I'll bugger off when you start eating more. You're going to get pissy halfway through Potions, and it's not going to get any better until hours after lunch. We did this exact same thing yesterday! And the day before. And the day before that, too. This entire bloody term, as a matter of fact."

Things continued in that vein until Sirius and James both stalked off for the library, ostensibly to finish their essays for Transfiguration. In truth, they had found out-- separately, of course-- that Remus was a werewolf and come to the same conclusion: the best way to help him out during the full moon would be to become animagi. Far more important than doing homework-- though their homework had already been finished.

*

It was the summer before sixth year, and they had had one glorious month apart. The Black Family had taken a trip back to Thailand, which meant that James had had a glorious thirty days without having to see Sirius or hear his parents tell him that he should go visit him.

Unfortunately, they were back in Britain, and their parents hadn't wasted any time in setting up a date for all of them to have dinner together.

James sighed but didn't put up a fight when it was time to get ready. He'd put up years of resistance, to no avail. Now that they were nearly of age, his parents had been cracking down even harder about his behaviour when it came to Sirius. He prepared himself for a boring evening of sitting in an uncomfortable chair while either ignoring Sirius or exchanging glares with him. The glares would be few and far between because it would involve actually looking at each other, and past that, they couldn't risk getting caught by their parents. They'd mostly taken to being silent while in the same room; it was the easiest way of keeping their truce intact, they'd learned. They didn't say a word to each other in the dormitory unless they absolutely had to.

He thought he knew exactly what to expect from tonight, which is why he was completely thrown when he saw Sirius again.

Sirius was... gorgeous. There was no other way to describe the changes to his appearance. It was nothing big. He hadn't experienced any major changes to his features, but he was different. He'd gone and gotten handsome in their time apart, and James couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was that had changed. All he knew for sure was that when he saw him, his heart skipped a beat, and he felt the familiar stir of arousal in his stomach-- a familiar feeling in general, but never when it came to Sirius. He didn't like Sirius. He'd never fancied him or thought about him with anything approaching happiness. He was stuck with Sirius, and that's all there was to it.

Except... well, except it felt different now. He couldn't take his eyes off Sirius. Or- he could, but his gaze kept going back to Sirius like they were magnets, drawn together. No one said anything to him about his staring, but he didn't fool himself into thinking that meant no one had noticed it.

After dinner, James and Sirius were left alone. The idea was that they could talk and get to know each other better before they got married. They'd never really used the time for that. Last year during the summer, they sat in separate chairs and didn't say a word the entire time. It had been better than the year before, where they kept poking at each other-- sometimes literally, sometimes only with their words.

This time, James felt too uncomfortable to sit. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood awkwardly. Sirius threw himself into a chair, managing to look graceful instead of flopping around like a fish out of water, which is what James looked like when he tried to do the same thing at home.

"Are you feeling alright?" Sirius asked. "You were acting weird at dinner."

"Fine."

Sirius snorted. Instead of annoying James like it usually did, he found himself reluctantly charmed. "Right, because this is what you act like when you're fine."

"If you're such an expert on how I act, then why don't you already know what's wrong with me?"

"I didn't say anything was wrong with you; I said you were acting weird. And you are. If you want to pretend like you're not, that's your bloody business, and I'm sorry I bothered to ask."

James wanted to snap back. At this point, it was a reflex. Sirius was right; he didn't have to ask, but he had anyways. Sirius had been under no obligation to ask if he was feeling alright, but he had. It was a sign of him reaching out. James had no idea why he had tried, but now that he was feeling differently, maybe he shouldn't discourage it. After all, they were going to be married. They were going to have to spend the rest of their lives together. He might as well try to get along with Sirius before they were forced to live together full time, with only each other for company in the house. (At least, alone until they had kids, but that was a completely different problem, one he didn't want to worry about for another ten years or so.) "No, sorry, I just... I dunno. I feel out of sorts." He forced himself to relax and sat on the couch. "How was your trip to Thailand?"

Sirius looked at him suspiciously for a moment-- likely wondering why he was asking-- but he replied, "Regulus was so nervous he barely left the house, but other than that it was good."

"Why was he nervous?" James asked, frowning.

"He thinks that he isn't fluent in Thai. Which he is. But because of it, he didn't want to talk to anyone or go to any stores, and if we went out to eat, he refused to order for himself."

"That sounds really buggering annoying."

"He's just a nervous sodding berk. At this point, I'm not convinced that he's made of anything but anxiety."

"Lovely."

"Mm," Sirius hummed. "What've you been up to this summer? Quidditch?"

"How'd you guess?" James said dryly, but he was smiling.

"Don't you think you practice enough?"

"Normally, yes, but I'm going to be captain next year. I need to do better."

"Right, because being better than everyone else at Hogwarts is a clear sign that you're slacking."

"Why Sirius, that almost sounded like a compliment."

Sirius tossed him a smirk. "Don't let it go to your head."

It was too late for that. Sirius was horribly attractive now, and on top of it, he was being nice to James. James didn't stand a chance.

*

"What the hell are you doing?" Regulus asked.

Sirius didn't jump in surprise-- which was good, because it would've ruined his eyeshadow-- but he was startled. Regulus usually couldn't sneak up on him. "Putting on makeup, what's it look like?" he responded evenly.

"Right, but why? You're going over to the Potter's; it's not as if you need to look nice."

Sirius ignored that. He decidedly did not appreciate the realisation that came across Regulus's face.

"You fancy him. You've hated James for years, but now you fancy him."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Sirius said, putting down the brush and checking his work.

"You're a sodding liar," Regulus said, grinning widely. "I am happy for you. It would've been horrible if you married him while still despising him. That being said, does he know that you like him now? Because I don't think all the makeup in the world is going to clue him in to how you feel."

"I don't feel anything."

Regulus snorted. "Sure. Have fun getting lunch with your fiance."

"I will. You can have fun sitting in your room refusing to go anywhere or do anything."

"I will," Regulus said, sticking out his tongue because he wasn't nearly as grown-up as he liked to pretend. Fortunately, Sirius couldn't care less how grown-up he was or wasn't.

Sirius none-too-kindly shoved Regulus out of the washroom and checked his hair in the mirror. He didn't have time to do anything fancy, but he needed to make sure it wasn't sticking up or summat. Unfortunately, it wasn't behaving. He grabbed some gel and tried to tame it into place.

He didn't quite know why he was bothering. Regulus was right; if James still thought that Sirius didn't like him, then it wouldn't really matter how good he looked. And beyond that, there was the concern that, well, even if James did know that Sirius liked him and thought that he looked good, he'd seen Sirius looking all kinds of mussed and grumpy. It didn't make a difference how good Sirius could look now, because James knew how not good he looked first thing in the morning.

And all of that being said, Sirius was pretty sure that James fancied him. At least a little. Okay maybe it was a stretch to say that he fancied Sirius, but he definitely found him fit. His eyes lingered far too much and in too fond a way for him to still hate Sirius. Besides, he might be going over to the Potter's house right now, but James was the one that had asked him, not his parents. Sirius thought this might count as their first official date, and instead of making him nauseous-- like the thought of it had for so many years-- it made him excited. The two of them had spent their entire lives hating each other simply because their parents had gotten them engaged, but now they were finally talking. Sirius knew things about James that weren't connected to what bothered him and how much.

*

Moony and Wormtail blinked at them. "You're sitting next to each other," Wormtail said, stunned.

"Well spotted," Sirius said.

"Voluntarily," Moony added.

"Are you going somewhere with this?" James wondered aloud.

"I think mostly we're wondering what the hell happened over the summer. Do you like each other now?" Remus asked.

Sirius and James shared a look. Then they turned to Remus and nodded.

"That's... good, right?" Peter said. "Like, you're getting married next year. I was half-convinced you were going to murder each other, but you'll be fine now, right?"

"Yes, but I feel the need to point out that we wouldn't have killed each other. It's in the marriage contract," Sirius said.

"Please tell me you're joking," Moony said, making the face he always did when he learned about pureblood norms.

James shook his head. "Nope, it's in there. You lose your magic if you murder your spouse. Besides, we didn't hate each other that much."

"Could've fooled me," Peter said. "And, y'know, everyone else that's ever seen the two of you interact."

"Ancient history, mates," Sirius said carelessly. It was sort of ancient history, at least. He could see it happening again if he tried to kiss James and was rejected. Sirius was self-aware enough to know that he wouldn't take that rejection with grace. In fact, he knew that he would become positively impossible to live with if that happened. He was counting on that not happening, though. It's why he hadn't tried it yet. He was giving it time. Enough time that James should make the first move, in his opinion.

He had personally made the first several steps to repairing their relationship, so this one was on James. Hopefully, James would clue in to that before too long. Sirius was willing to wait for him to catch up, but that didn't mean he wanted to wait forever.

*

Sirius had his hand held out in front of him, admiring the engagement ring. James, he'd learned, was an incurable romantic. They had both known that they were going to be married the summer after their eighteenth birthdays for as long as they could remember. It had been a political move by their parents, and no one had been surprised that they weren't immediately in love with each other. Now that they were horribly, sappily in love, James said that he wanted for their engagement to feel different now.

There had been several stipulations to it, some of which Sirius was happily on board with, others more reluctant. The engagement ring, for example, felt nice. James had picked it out himself-- had designed it, actually, since he'd said that buying one already made didn't feel right. Getting a ring made Sirius feel like their relationship was different. He also liked James (half-jokingly) calling him Mr. Potter-Black when they saw each other first thing in the morning. It was sweet, even if it was clear that James liked to say it a lot more than Sirius liked hearing it.

The things- well, thing, because it was only the one thing that Sirius didn't like-- the thing that Sirius didn't like, leading up to the wedding, was that James said they shouldn't do more than some light snogging. He said it would make their married life feel more special if they saved the rest of their physical relationship for after the ceremony. Sirius saw the appeal to that in an abstract way, but in the tangible way, he was horny and James was sodding fit. Not to mention, he was a bloody teenager. He was never going to be more sexually frustrated than when he was this age-- at least, he hoped so, because if it got worse he was going to die-- and he had a boyfriend who he knew for a fact was attracted to him, and yet they weren't going to do anything.

This was his fault. He'd agreed to it. If he'd stuck out his bottom lip and looked James directly in the eye and whispered, "Please?" James would've caved. But no, Sirius had wanted to be a good partner, so he'd said they could wait. And okay, it's not like he really minded, and he had no intention of changing his mind, but it was impossible not to imagine what it would be like to be able to roll into James's bed and finally have a hand other than his own.

Point is, his engagement ring was gorgeous, and it was much nicer to look at the ring and feel butterflies in his stomach rather than stress about the fact that he was going to be a husband soon, and he didn't know if he knew how to fill that role.

Next to him, Regulus groaned in annoyance. "If I had known you would be this insufferable, I never would've wanted you and James to like each other."

"How rude," Sirius said mildly. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Yes."

Sirius looked over at him. "You didn't look at it."

"I've seen it before, shocking as the concept might be to you. I swear, falling in love made you lose half of your brain."

"Still smarter than you are."

"You're older; you're supposed to be smarter right now."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Regulus glared at him. "Don't you want to go bother James about something?"

"No," Sirius said shortly, and his brother raised an eyebrow. "He's busy all day."

"Then write him a letter, telling him how much you miss him."

"You know, Reggie, if my pining is bothering you, you're welcome to go read in another room. Say, your own?"

"What's stopping you from pining in your room? Why do I have to be the one to leave?"

"Because I was here first," Sirius said with a smile. "And you're the one who's getting annoyed."

Regulus hmph'd but didn't move, other than to sink down further in his seat.

Sirius turned back to admiring the ring. It really was gorgeous. He wondered if it would look better if he painted his nails. After a minute, he pulled his parchment back to him and wrote James a letter, as Regulus had suggested. It wasn't anything terribly important, and it didn't contain anything he hadn't said a dozen times before. He missed him, he loved him, he couldn't wait until they got to see each other again.

He sent it off, and it was less than an hour later that he got a reply.

Sirius,

I wish I had time to say more, but I miss you too. Everything's so sodding busy right now, but I should be free this weekend, if you wanted to spend some time together?

Yours,

Love James

Sirius stroked his thumb over the word 'love', treasuring it. It was silly and it made him feel like maybe he was too heavy in this, but James loving him was nothing short of a miracle. And it was a miracle he was going to appreciate every day. 

[silverypurple-rosedlions]

𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟺𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟶

𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙹𝚘𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚊'𝚜 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐

TW// This content may contain sensitive topics that could upset you such as: strong language, violence, blood, gun and knife use, and possible deaths. Please continue at your own will and be cautious . . .

"Is everything organized as we requested?"

"For the millionth time, Boss. Everything is just as how you two imagined it. Not a single thing is out of place." Jihoon said, his hands behind his back as the room glowed gloriously.

"And the guests?" Jeonghan asked as his eyes took in the dream that had been pulled into reality, his hand rested on the white table.

"We... Still haven't received any replies after the invitation was sent." Jihoon responded.

"It's been a week since we've sent it out..." Jeonghan sighed, shifting his narrowed gaze to the shorter.

"Well, it is possible for them to be occupied, Boss. Besides. Although it is sad that only The Silver Lions, Marceline, and family members will be the only ones attending aside our members as a whole, it is still worth carrying out." Jihoon explained. The other breathed in, nodding as he collected himself. "It is your big day after all. Both Joshua and yours."

"I just... Don't feel right about this. For it being today."

"Don't become paranoid because the rest may not be available. Perhaps many are but the boys have refrained from telling you and Joshua." Jihoon suggested.

"Perhaps..."

Joshua looked into the mirror, staring at his reflection as Mingyu’s sister worked on his hair, styling it perfectly with a wide grin as the room was bustling with joy and excitement. But as he finished getting ready, the wedding close to beginning, Joshua couldn’t help but feel something tighten within him. His stomach churned, and he felt cold, unusually cold as if he was preparing for a bitter winter to begin as he sighed softly.

“Joshua Oppa, loosen up!” Mingyu’s sister giggled, patting his shoulders as the older blinked, swallowing the lump that had begun to build within his throat. “You look as if you have seen a ghost. And, that ghost is already waiting with the rest!”

Joshua laughed at the joke, but shook his head as he turned to face the younger girl, his head tilted. “I know, I know. I’m trying but…”

“Cold feet?”

“Oh! No, no. As much as I am nervous, no, anxious, I don’t have cold feet. I mean, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a while, so, of course not. And, we both really want this.”

“Then what’s the matter?” Another questioned, causing the two to shift their gaze towards the door that was opened, Minghao’s head peeking in as he had an eyebrow raised. “By the way, you look amazing, hyung,” He complimented as he entered, closing the door behind him.

“It’s just… I don’t know,” Joshua shifted, his dark brown eyes landing onto the bouquet of water lilies and white roses, staring at their pure white petals with furrowed brows. “Do you suppose this isn’t the perfect time? Not that long ago, we returned from the Bahamas, and, I don’t even know who else is attending since you said you’d keep it as a surprise,”

“You’re worrying your pretty little head over nothing, Oppa,” Mingyu’s sister snorted. Minghao chuckled, his head giving a slight jerk as he walked over, patting the older’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be perfect, hyung. Trust me. There’s no better time to do this after a nice time away to spend quality time with everyone. Especially when we had the pleasant surprise of another wedding that we’ll be attending soon when winter comes,” Minghao reassured.

“I-... I suppose so. But,” Joshua lifted his head, smiling at him with a raised eyebrow. “Can you at least tell me one friend of ours that is coming?”

“I don’t really think it’s necessary to have arranged seatings for everyone,” Wonwoo began, fixing his tuxedo as his gaze overlooked the entire dining room, appearing as if it were all made of gold and the purest of white material. But he snorted, picking up one of the nametags and showing it towards Mingyu. “Especially when you’ve put dear old Seungkwan with Seokmin and Soonyoung,”

“They need to fix that issue of theirs one way or another. Besides, who doesn’t miss their chemistry?” Mingyu responded, taking the nametag and placing it back down.

“I don’t,” Wonwoo joked as he ran his fingers through his silvery hair, his glasses glistening. “But let’s just hope they can behave at the very least with those who are attending.”

“They will, don’t worry. Not to mention, this is the literal golden couple who’s waited for this for a while and managed to reunite after two years, aaaand have a child. They wouldn’t even dream of ruining it unless they want to face Jeonghan hyung’s wrath,” Mingyu nudged, causing the other to roll their eyes playfully in response.

“That’s the last thing we’d want. But, where’s everyone?”

“They’re rolling in, didn’t you see?” Mingyu responded with a raised eyebrow, smoothing his suit.

“I’ve seen The Silver Lions, our members, and Marceline. But I haven’t seen anyone else like Kiki, Hendery, or Jennie.” Wonwoo noted peculiarly.

“I haven’t seen them as well. And I was sure that Arin and everyone would’ve already come in here by now. But, Jihoon hyung’s handling that, isn’t he?”

“I thought Minghao was,”

“Look at you being Jeonghan hyung’s best man!” Samuel grinned warmly as he hugged Seokmin, the other wrapping his arms tightly around the younger.

“I mean, who else would be?” Seokmin chuckled, grinning widely towards the boy they adored. “But I’m surprised you’d come, Sam! I thought your Done assigned you with a mission?”

“Oh, yeah. He did. But I got it done right away and came here on my motorcycle,” Samuel responded as they walked into the cathedral that was already filled with mafias. “You think I’d honestly miss their wedding? Our hyung’s big day?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Not at all!” Seokmin said as they greeted numerous people, bowing their heads as they walked towards the opened seats.

“Where’s everyone else?” Samuel questioned, eyeing the people.

“Who?”

“You know, everyone that we met or you’ve guys have met. Like Kiki and them, and your boyfriend! What’s his name… erm… Bacon Hyun?”

Seokmin snorted, laughing as he slapped his hand onto the younger’s back, shaking his head. “Bacon?! Samuel! His name is Baekhyun. He’s not a bacon, he’s a ghoul~”

“OH!” Samuel said, turning red from embarrassment as he laughed with him, hugging his stomach as he looked around. “My bad! But, yeah. Him and everyone else. Where are they?”

“I think they’re coming in shortly,” Seokmin responded. “I mean, we did receive replies from a good majority of them when the invitation was sent like, a week or so ago, so, we’ll see.”

“Are you sure? Cause, the wedding is about to start, hyung-”

"Wait... WHAT?!”

As Jeonghan stood at the altar, suppressing his sudden jerks and twitches, he took in the people sitting within the pews, tightening his grip on his hands. It wasn’t the feeling of claustrophobia, the amount there, or the fact that it was being held within a private, holy, chuch. But as he scanned over the people, no one they had initially invited were there. It was a cathedral filled with mafias with an exception of a vampiric woman sitting tall and proud. He didn’t see Jamie, someone who supported him and Joshua when the other was pregnant, he didn’t see his group and the others’ twins they had become family towards since the start, or their gracious Jiaqi, the boys’ soulmates that they adored and accepted . . . none of them. Although Jeonghan understood that there were other matters to attend to for everyone individually, the voices clung to him, whispering into his ear of the danger creeping into their blessed day.

As Joshua proceeded within the marvelous building, his heart leaping, he could only look towards Jeonghan, who stood at the altar with a large, sweet, and warm smile, his eyes softened. It was the Jeonghan that was buried deep below, the Jeonghan that Joshua first fell for. And for a moment, Joshua felt as if time froze, only to imprint such a memorable moment in his life that was all that he had ever wanted with Jeonghan. But his heart fell when his eyes shifted to find that none of their other friends had attended, the building only filled with the people belonging to them, or to The Silver Lions.

As Joshua and Jeonghan stood face to face, the Priest speaking, Seungcheol sighed softly within the sounds of sniffles, admiring the couple that would be wed before their very own eyes. Looking towards his right, he nudged Jihoon, whispering to the Consigliere. “Isn’t this marvelous? After 7 years, it’s finally becoming something I’ve only ever heard Jeonghan mumble under his breath about,”

“Indeed it is, Mr. Choi,” Jihoon responded.

“It’s alright to address me without the formality, Jihoon. We should be comfortable on such a grand day, shouldn’t we? Especially when it seems that The Purple Rose is flourishing with so many these days,” Seungcheol said, eyeing the new additions within the allied mafia.

“Actually, a good majority were unable to attend. At least those with Jeju Island,” Jihoon informed, a small smile blossoming on his face as they proceeded with the ceremony, nearing their vows.

“Oh, really?” Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sitting straight with his hands folded on his legs. “Well, it seems like you’ve all been mingling with plenty,”

“I… beg your pardon? I thought they belonged with you,”

“Oh, no, no. I couldn’t possibly bring so many. They’re still adjusting with the new arrangements we made after the alliance was reinstalled.” Seungcheol said, slowly pausing as the two looked at each other. “But… if they’re not mine or your own…”

“I-...” Jihoon shifted in his seat, finding his in-ear piece as he cleared his throat, speaking with a dark and quiet voice. “Begin to have everyone evacuate immediately but subtly. This wedding’s been invaded,”

“And finally, do you, Hong Joshua Jisoo, take Yoon Jeonghan to . . .”

As Jeonghan and Joshua held their rings, waiting to slip them on the other’s fingers, tears forming in their eyes as joy, he noticed the shifting within the pews, the look of discomfort and concern slowly blossoming on their faces despite the smiles and the crinkles in their eyes. The shift of emotion poisoning the air was suffocating Jeonghan as he took Joshua’s hands, the other eyeing him peculiarly, likely observing the sudden change in expression.

"I do,"

"And do you, Yoon Jeonghan, take Hong Joshua Jisoo to-" And suddenly, Seokmin took Jeonghan’s arm tightly.

“We need to go,”

“Leave?”

“Immediately, hyung. There’s-”

Screams rippled through the cathedral, causing many to drop down within the pews to use them as protection as the sounds of gunshots thundered. Jeonghan immediately reached for Joshua, pulling him into his arms to protect him as they stumbled behind with the priest yelling. As the three hid, they heard glass shattering as wood was blasted off, splinters exploding.

“May The Purple Rose crumble, and their descendents turned to ashes!” A crowd bellowed, chanting it like a ceremony as Joshua curled within Jeonghan’s embrace, the other shuffling through his golden suit for his pistols.

“For once, can we not have some sort of peace!” Joshua yelled in frustration, before pushing Jeonghan onto his back as a chunk of the wooden altar broke as a round of bullets broke into it.

“No, it seems impossible,” Jeonghan growled with rage as they shifted, pressed side-by-side as they held their weapons within their hands tightly.

“Seems like some odd cult with that chanting of theirs,” Seokmin rolled his eyes as the room became a bloodbath.

“I did NOT plan for our wedding to be ruined!” Jeonghan snarled, nailing the intruders that held rage within their eyes.

“I know, and we’re all so sorry!” Minghao shouted in reply, grunting as both him, Soonyoung, and Mingyu shifted underneath a pew, kicking it up with their combined strength as it slammed against a group of men and women of the opposing group, forcing them down. “This could explain WHY no one else we invited didn’t come!”

“I’m sick of these people constantly meddling with everything. First, a group takes Jun and the Silver Lions’ members, another comes and nearly takes Joshua as a bargaining chip and nearly sends us into ruin,” Jihoon said through gritted teeth, his voice entering into the in-ear pieces as he attacked viciously, buying time for the rest to leave, “And now they’re ruining a fucking wedding!”

“You’re telling me,” Joshua threw his dagger, only to let out a gasp when he turned to find a man with a gun directed at him, only to fall lopsided as Jeonghan released his trigger, saving Joshua and pulling him up.

“Not that this is anything new, is it?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow as he wrapped his arm around the other securely, helping to usher him out as the priest followed them, flabbergasted.

“I am now very thankful I let Vernon’s sister babysit Jane,” Joshua sighed as he ran with them, entering into the hall.

“Aren’t we all thankful?” Mingyu said as he followed the two, protecting them as they were being pursued.

“D-Does t-this m-mean w-we ne-ed to re-reschedule the we-wedding?!” The priest stammed frightfully, causing Jeonghan to scoff.

“You think we’d want to tie the knot without our loved ones here, and right when our wedding is ruined with an attempt to annihilate The Purple Rose?!”

“F-Fair. Fair, s-sir,”

As they burst through the doors, racing outside, all of them gasped and diverted to the right as cars pulled in, various men and women swinging their doors open and firing at them. Guiding the herd of startled sheeps and wolves, Jeonghan gritted his teeth as he left Joshua, handing him to Mingyu as he fell behind to Seungcheol, grabbed his arm.

“Alright. We’ve got to figure something out quickly before they shoot us down one by one,”

“I’ve got an idea,” Seungcheol replied, looking straight ahead before shifting his eyes to Jeonghan. “But you’re not going to like it,”

“But will it work?!”

“Fifty-fifty. At least, it’ll give you and Joshua the chance to get out of here first, and buy enough time with the shock,”

“I am NOT abandoning everyone here,”

“Don’t worry! All that matters right now is getting Joshua and you somewhere safe! Or at least to where the two of you planned to spend your honeymoon! Delilah has already arranged for backup, and they’re fast on their way. I’ll remain here with the rest until then. But you need to work with me on this. Especially Marceline,”

"Wonwoo's hit! He's been hit twice!" Someone shouted, Jihoon's heart racing as Wonwoo was jerked up, blood blossoming on his back and within his thin as the other yelled in pain, teeth gritted.

"CLIFF!"

"THEN DIVER-" Before Jihoon could bellow a direction, dirt was kicked up, causing them to curse and protect their eyes as tires screeched and the bullets rained. Before they knew it, they were at the cliff's edge, surrounded by various people standing and panting, or others stepping out of the cars, armed.

Cursing and mumbling in despair, everyone began to huddle together, becoming a clump of wait remained of them. But too many were injured to create a quick divergent, and there was no other escape or way to attack in their weapons dull, and their guns emptied. Standing firmly at the head of them was Jeonghan and Seungcheol, their heads held high despite the obvious: They were the prey, completely at their disposal. There was no such thing as mercy.

And slowly, they fell into despair . . .

"You know... I thought I'd make it to the day we got to see Junhui's wedding at least, ya know? I actually tried not to make such a mess..."

"Seokmin, don't say such things." The other whispered.

"We're cornered. We have NOTHING, and our guns are now empty." Seungkwan growled.

"We stand strong!" Soonyoung responded firmly, but his hands trembled.

"I didn't even get to give Arin her gift... I didn't want to just have her have my hoodie and heart only..." Mingyu sighed, lowering his head with his arms outstretched. "Heck, even Wonwoo hyung never confessed crap yet,"

"I was planning to take Jiwon on a date... I was gonna bring her to the paint room because I finally cleaned it for the two of us, right when the hyungs' went to their honeymoon..." Minghao said, his head twitching as Jun held him by the shoulder tightly. "Instead, we got tricked.."

"T-This can't be it, hyungs!" Samuel said. "There's got to be another way!"

"Samuel... I don't think we can get out of this like before." Chan admitted with despair. "At the very least... We stand together, yeah?" Chan sighed as Seungcheol ruffled his hair, nodding with a look no one could have described it with.

"Seokmin-ah... I'm sorry. Seungkwan and I are sorry for everything. We're sorry we fell apart because of something so stupid..."

"It's okay... I'm sorry too, Soonyoung hyung and Seungkwan-ah..." Seokmin sniffled, wrapping his arms around the two, who patted his back.

"MAY THE PURPLE ROSE CRUMBLE! THEIR DESCENDANTS TURNED TO ASHES FOR THEIR HAYNES CRIMES! AND MAY THEIR ALLIES PERISH ALONG SIDE THE DEMONS THEMSELVES!"

"Not. Yet." Jeonghan growled, holding Joshua close to him. "At least, we won't let you have the benefit of taking down the most diabolical mafias here, you pieces of shit."

"Careful of that mouth of yours, you monster," A woman spat, cocking her gun. Many shifted, Joshua gripping onto Jeonghan tightly, ready to turn in front of him hadn't the other held onto him firmly. "This is karma for the terror you have brought! You don't deserve to live!"

"You're right." Jeonghan smiled subtly, eyeing them all with narrowed eyes. "I'm nothing but a monster who should've tied every time I was on the brink of death. But I defy it all,"

"Not this time. No one here will ever live and take that beloved crown of horrors from that fucked head of yours!" A man snarled.

"Fine." Jeonghan grimaced. "But, allow me to have the benefit of ending The Purple Rose before your eyes, and take my life as a married man. I'm sure you're more human than me to allow such a thing?"

"Jeonghan, what are you doing?" Joshua said with large, round eyes as the other sighed, taking his hands as they were pushed towards the edge of the cliff, holding each other desperately.

"Completing everything as planned, yeah?" Jeonghan said as his head jerked, his twitching nearly uncontrollably due to suppressing for far too long. "The priest, please..."

Joshua stared at Jeonghan with glistening eyes, shaking as he held Jeonghan's hands tightly, staring at him for what appeared would be the last time he would do such a thing.

"Do you take Hong Joshua Jisoo as yours... T-To love and cherish, through sickness and health, through hardships, until death do you part?" The priest gulped. And as Jeonghan and Joshua slipped their rings shakily onto each other's fingers, intertwining them as Joshua's lips trembled, sobbing.

"I do."

"Then... you may kiss the groom,"

And as Jeonghan wrapped his arms around Joshua, kissing him patiently as cries filled the air, others gagging in repulse, Jeonghan whispered against Joshua's lips.

"Do you trust me?"

"Always, you sloth," Joshua sniffled softly, running his fingers through the locks he's touched over a billion times.

"Then don't let go. No matter what happens. Don't let go..." Jeonghan whispered, wrapping his arms around Joshua's waist, the other looking at him with overflowing love and sadness, nodding as he held onto his husband tightly.

Facing them as The Purple Rose and The Silver Lions rose their heads high, tears rolling down their cheeks as they stood firmly together, Jeonghan raised his voice, his eyes shifting to the sky, closing them as a smile blossomed on his face.

"May The Purple Rose continue to thrive! The group you fear at night will forever stand! The forgotten and the disgraced welcomed to the outstretched arms of their brothers and sisters of the damaged!" Jeonghan bellowed, causing what seemed to be hundreds of men and women to boo and scream in defiance as he opened his eyes. "AND MAY THE YOON FAMILY LIVE FOREVERMORE WHILE YOU ALL PERISH FOR YOUR FOOLISHNESS!"

And as those alongside them roared along to honor them, Jeonghan took a step back, bringing Joshua with him. And then, backwards they went, over the cliffs edge that caused screams of horror, another round of bullets raining down upon them as screams of agony echoed through the air.

But as The Purple Rose and The Silver Lions raced to the edge to watch as the newlywed vanished, they dropped to the ground in huddles, waiting for each to lay in pools of blood . . .

One

by

one . . .

But no one had done so. Instead, it was the opposing group that cried in dismay as they were the ones to face gruesome deaths. As the cars ignited to life, the firing continuing to rage down upon them, everyone looked around them, beginning to stand together as their members closed in on those surrounding them, gunning them down viciously. The Silver Lions sighed in relief, hugging and letting each other. But everyone crowded the edge of the cliff, peering over in search for the newlywed couple, but who died within each other's arms.

However, as they looked over, they all howled with relief and happiness when they found the unbelievable.

Marceline, the vampire, was hovering within the air with her arms wrapped securely around Joshua, even to the point her nails nearly tore into the fabric to ensure he wouldn't slip. But that was the issue: Only Joshua was there.

"JOSHUA HYUNG! MARCELINE!" Mingyu yelled.

"YOU'RE- HOW- WHERE'S JEONGHAN?!" Jihoon bellowed.

As they looked desperately to Joshua and Marceline, tears were rolling down their eyes, both a sickly pale as they stared up at them in dismay. Joshua couldn't utter a word, too shocked as he trembled uncontrollably in Marceline's arms. The vampire slowly shook her head, chocking on her words.

"He..." Marceline sniffled, rising to the boys as she handed Joshua to them. "H-He... I couldn't reach him in time..." Marceline admitted as the bullets subsided. "He got shot... I-In the chest... We... We fumbled b-because it set him f-farther away... and then he... He pushed Joshua to me as he dropped.."

Screams and cries of dismay rippled through the crowd, mourning as the cruel truth was revealed to them of the man. But the worse cry erupted from Joshua, breaking out from the state of shock as he dropped onto the ground, gripping the edge as he sobbed uncontrollably.

"H-He can't... He can't be dead," Seungcheol stumbled back, his eyes scanning everyone as his heart clenched.

"Someone find his body." Jihoon stated sternly, but he trembled, tears stinging his eyes, but he refused to cry among them without doing a thorough check. "We gather inside the cathedral and tend to the injured... And then we decide a temporary time to go offline and relocate..."

As everyone stumbled into the cathedral, Wonwoo being carried and placed within a room among those wounded, The Purple Rose was nothing but a cluster of frightful, mourning, and sick people. The slowly unraveled before The Silver Lions, too distraught as they all snapped due to their shocking loss.

"He's not dead. He's not dead. He's not dead..." Seokmin repeated in denial, rocking back and forth in his chair. Beside him, Minghao and Jun were mumbling under their breathes, refusing to be touched by anyone else as they cried in dismay, one covering their mouth, the other shaking their head with their hands over their ears. Mingyu sat within a chair in the corner, head dropped into his hands as he breathed in and out shakily. Jihoon paced back and forth, speaking with The Silver Lions' Underboss, Soonyoung, to discuss their plan. And Joshua was curled up, sobbing as he hugged himself, shaking his head as Seungcheol whispered softly to him, comforting him in whatever way he could.

But nothing could comfort Joshua that his husband, the lover of his life and the father to their daughter, was finally dead . . .

The rest survived. But death had claimed not just their brothers and sisters, but their leader.

"We pack everything once we return home... Everyone has been broken into groups, and their temporary place to remain until further notice is being arranged..."

"What about Jane?"

"She'll stay with Vernon's family until Joshua is safely within his temporary location, and we ensure it is safe to have her with any of us."

"How long will this take?... Can we not see each other once we separate?"

"I... We advise you not to. You're not ordered to not do so, but... For your safety and everyone else's, please don't."

"What about... The reset..."

"No!... Nothing of that... Not yet."

"Not until someone puts a bullet in their head, right?... Right?!"

"Minghao, please..."

"...That will be all. Until then... I wish everyone the best of luck... And may Jeonghan rest in peace."

"May he rest in peace..."

The Guests Who Were Invited: @vampiremomo @split-jiu @princess-yeji @dungeonhybrids @incubuswooyoung @la-soleilmafia-cb @floristluda @fairy-dejun @model-lucy @mleee @vitoria-oc @ateez-treasure9au-chatbot @descendants-bot @holidate-joshua @yan-svt @decadewonwoo @god-vernon @leejihoon-cb @van-gogh-minghao @mafia-svt @mafia-shua @vampireprince-jeonghan @jiaqi-xu @kpop-shelter @bloodrose-cb @shin-haneul @sweetandsleepyjamie @detectivexsicheng @frenemies-hyunsung @mitsukojen @pup-hendery @mafia-chae @ghoulxbaekhyun @seventeen-chatbot @arinschoi @heartbrokenxinseong @kjiwon @college-baekhyun @darkfaeskz @midari-jieun @hunter-chaeyoung @yandere-bc @yanderetzuyu [and more]

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)  

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.  

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

[beifongsss]

for the fickle [p.p.]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You’ve always been there for Peter but you’re tired of always listening to him pine over MJ after what happened the night of homecoming.

reader is basically MJ during ffh!

Word Count: 8.8k (i’m so sorry the ending is rushed)

WARNING: ffh spoilers! proceed with caution!

this fic was inspired by reese lansangan’s song For the Fickle which I thought was super soft :( I def recommend listening to it throughout this!

here is my masterlist!!

~

You walked down the hall, on your way back to the gym. You shook your hands out, getting rid of the water droplets on your hands. Of course the bathroom had ran out of paper towels. 

You were knocked down as you turned the corner, a panting Peter Parker propping himself up on his hands as he stared down at you, causing you to blush.

“(Y/N),” Peter whispered. “I’m sorry I have to go.”

“Peter! What do you mean? It’s homecoming,” you exclaimed as he quickly helped you up. “What about Liz?”

Peter quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead before smiling softly. “You look amazing. I hope you know that.”

You stood there in shock at his words as he ran off, taking off his tie before bolting out the door. You continued on your way, arriving back at the gym, grabbing your purse and saying a quick goodbye to MJ before waving to Liz, who looked a little lost due to her absent date. 

The time on your phone read 11:23 pm as you walked home, but you weren’t too concerned. The neighborhood you lived in was remotely safe and if anything happened, you had your trusty pocket knife. Plus, Spider-Man was known to lurk around sometimes so you knew you’d be safe. 

You made it home without incident and proceeded to get ready for bed. You played your music, knowing that your parents wouldn’t be home for a while as they often worked late nights in the lab that employed them. One hot shower and a leftover slice of pizza later, you sat at your desk, removing any traces of makeup that were left on your face after your shower. 

Your music was blasting, not too loud but loud enough for you to miss the tap on your window The tap came again, slightly louder, and you lowered your volume before standing. Grabbing your trusty pocket knife, you crept over to the window, flinging back the curtains to reveal-

“Spider-Man?” you asked, confused. It was then that you noticed him clutching his side, causing you to open your window an help him inside. His breathing was ragged and he was shivering as you propped him onto your bed. 

“T-take it off,” he rasped, causing you to furrow your eye brows. “The mask, take it off.”

You hesitantly rolled up his mask, exposing his bloodied lip and freckled nose before revealing a curly head of hair. You gasped at his appearance. Spider-Man was no older than fifteen. He was a high school student. He was your age. He was Peter Parker.

Gathering all available first aid supplies from your bathroom, you proceeded to clean Peter up. It was a long, silent process and once you were finished, you tucked him in under your covers. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered as you came back into your room. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you and for leaving you at homecoming and for-”

“Peter,” you said softly, interrupting him. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

Wordlessly, Peter lifted your covers and you crept in next to him. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your neck. You stroked his hair as he held you tighter, trying to forget the events of that night. 

“(Y/N),” Peter spoke softly looking up at you. You looked down, meeting his eyes. They were full of unshed tears, making them sparkle and look beautiful even though he was hurting. “I’m sorry.”

“You really have to stop apologizing,” you said just as softly. A comfortable silence took over the room as you both stared at each other. You were lost in his honey brown eyes, the tears subsiding with every passing minute. 

“I love you,” Peter whispered, taking you by surprise. “I know we’re only fifteen and haven’t even lived our lives but the one thing I’m sure of is that I am in love with you.”

Your eyes widened at Peter’s words and you stuttered over your words as you replied. “I-I love y-you too Pete. I always have.”

Silence ensued once again as Peter leaned up, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You kissed back just as softly before Peter deepened the kiss slightly, arms tightening around you in desperation as you responded in kind. 

“I’ll always love you (Y/N/N),” Peter whispered a few minutes later, both your lips swollen from the kisses you had shared. “Always.”

~

“What’s up losers,” MJ greeted as she sat next to you in the cafeteria. 

“Hey MJ,” you greeted, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Hey!” Ned exclaimed. “We’re not losers.”

MJ snorted before opening her book and reading, making sure to keep it angled towards you, knowing you were following along. After a few pages, you glanced up, noticing Peter’s soft gaze focused on MJ. When he realized he had been caught staring, his expression hardened and he shot you a glare before looking back down at his chemistry homework. 

You sighed softly, catching MJ’s attention. With one glance at Peter, she stood up, dragging you along as she left the cafeteria. 

“You can’t keep doing this (Y/N),” MJ said once you had entered the hallway. “It’s quite literally been years.

You bit your lip knowing that she was right. After the night of homecoming, Peter had become withdrawn. You had attributed the sudden distance to his Spider-Man duties, knowing that they were important and took up a lot of his time. You had tried to talk to him a few times and he always stuttered out excuses before darting away. Eventually, he began ignoring you altogether, pretending that you didn’t exist even though you were part of his friend group. 

And the supposed love of his life you though bitterly to yourself. Soon after, The Snap and The Blip happened and seeing as how you were part of the 50% of the population that got snapped away, you were still in high school. Along the way, you had noticed that the soft stare that had been directed at you on homecoming night was now directed at MJ.

MJ had told you that you were crazy and that Peter quite obviously loved you and that even if he had feelings for her, she didn’t like him like that anyways. You believed MJ but you still couldn’t help the way your heart dropped when you noticed the glances. 

“Cheer up loser,” MJ continued. “We’re leaving on that trip soon anyways. You’ll have plenty of time to mope over dorky Peter Parker when we get back.”

You nodded, knowing she was right. Pleased with your answer, MJ grabbed your arm and began leading you towards the door.

“MJ, where are we going? We have chem next,” you exclaimed, noticing the smirk on MJ’s face.

“I think ice cream is more fun than chem. Don’t you?”

~

You huffed slightly, struggling to place your carry-on in the space above your seat. You were relieved when you felt someone take your suitcase from your hands, placing it into the overhead bin with ease. You turned around, surprised to find Brad Davis standing behind you.

“Thanks,” you breathed out, still slightly worked up from your previous attempts with your suitcase. “I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten it up there.”

“It was no problem,” Brad replied smoothly. “It’d be a crime to not help a pretty girl like you.”

You stared at him, a smile spreading across your face as you felt your face heat up. You both stood there for a minute before Ned came up behind Brad.

“Peter! Peter!” Ned exclaimed, trying to make his way over to his best friend. In his attempt, he managed to bump into Brad, who in turn bumped into you, causing you to stumble back and fall. You let out a small ‘oof’ when you landed, feeling an arm wrap around your waist to keep you from falling. 

You flushed when you made eye contact with a pair of bright brown eyes. You avoided Peter’s gaze, looking everywhere except him as Brad panicked, apologizing for knocking you over. 

“Nice catch Parker,” Brad spoke, holding out his hand to help you get out of Peter’s lap.

“Yeah, thanks,” you muttered, grabbing Brad’s hand. He pulled you up, pulling a little too hard and causing you to bump into him. You both cleared your throats and you blushed before ducking your head and darting off to your seat. Peter and Brad both gazed after you. 

“I can’t believe you let her go Parker,” Brad said after a few seconds. “Everyone was rooting for you two to end up together.”

Peter couldn’t help but glare at Brad as he walked off. Ned settled into his seat next to Peter and spoke quietly. “He’s right Peter. We thought you guys were gonna end up together but then you started ignoring her. What happened?”

Peter groaned, running a hand down his face. “I know Ned! I know I messed up okay.” He lowered his voice, leaning in a and continuing in a whisper. “But she found out I was Spider-Man and I couldn’t let her get hurt because of that.”

Ned rolled his eyes before looking at you. You were sitting next to MJ, head leaning back against your seat and eyes closed as you listened to your headphones. “I bet if you sat next to her you’d finally be able to talk it out.”

Peter sighed, closing his eyes at Ned’s words. “There’s no way she’d willingly sit next to me.”

Ned stood up abruptly, startling Peter and heading towards you. 

“Mr. Harrington!” Ned called out. The teacher in question turned around immediately. “I tend to get motion sick on planes so I was wondering if I could switch seats with (Y/N). She’s seated right under the air conditioning and that usually helps me relax.”

“Ned,” Peter hissed. “What are you doing?”

Ned sent him a wink before turning back to Mr. Harrington.

“Oh dear,” Mr. Harrington replied, a little too concerned about the situation. “Let’s see. Ned why don’t you actually switch with Brad? He’s also under the air conditioning and close to the bathroom, just in case. Brad, since your suitcase is close to the back I don’t want you moving too far. Oh I don’t want to wake (Y/N) up. How about you take MJ’s seat? MJ you can sit next to Peter.”

Ned shot Peter an apologetic look as he took Brad’s seat next to Betty Brant. Brad slipped into MJ’s seat as MJ made her way over to Peter, her eyes never leaving her book. 

“Hey loser,” she greeted Peter, sitting down. Peter glanced over at you, eyes still closed, your head resting on Brad’s shoulder. You were asleep. He let out a loud groan before hitting his head on the seat in front of him.

“Next time,” MJ spoke, turning her book’s page. “Don’t make it complicated and just go up to her and apologize.”

~

The plane ride was long. Way too long. 

Halfway through, you had woken up, slightly confused as to why Brad was next to you instead of MJ. Eventually, you and Brad started watching Netflix thanks to the dual headphone adapter that he luckily had. 

Peter was frustrated just watching you guys and the snide comments from MJ didn’t help the situation at all. You looked like you were enjoying yourself and for the first time in a while, fear and panic overtook Peter’s mind as he realized that there was a chance that you liked Brad. 

He fidgeted in his seat, fingernails digging into his palms as he heard you giggle at some joke Brad had made. MJ had fallen asleep a few minutes ago and Ned was too busy talking to Betty. With no distractions, Peter found himself glancing over at you way too often.

“Stop staring. You look like a creep,” MJ mumbled, opening one eyelid. Peter flushed, knowing she had caught him in the act. “Seriously Parker what you did was stupid.”

MJ closed her eye again as Peter hung his head. She continued, “Pulling away from her after confessing that you love her was a bitch move. You know that she thinks that you like me?”

Peter snorted involuntarily at MJ’s words. “No offense MJ but I don’t think I could ever like you. Not as long as she’s in my life.”

MJ opened her eyes, making a disgusted face at the longing look Peter was giving you. “Woman up and tell her that you still feel the same way. I know she still does. Now if you don’t mind please stop moping, I’m gonna sleep.”

Within a few minutes, MJ was knocked out, snoring softly and leaving Peter to mull over her words. 

~

Venice was beautiful. 

The sights were amazing and the large canal that ran through the city only made it even more charming. You were walking alone for the most part. Ned was apparently with Betty now and MJ was nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey,” Brad spoke, coming up behind you. You smiled in response, too lost in your awe of the city to answer him. “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a gondola ride with me?”

You noticed Betty and Ned getting into a gondola of their own out of the corner of your eye before turning back to Brad. “Sure! It sounds like fun.”

Brad beamed, leading you over to the dock and stepping into the small boat before holding his hand out to help you.

“What a gentleman,” you mused, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Thank you, I try,” Brad chuckled, sitting down next to you. The two of you talked about everything and nothing as the gondola made its way down the canal. You couldn’t help but feel a bit frightened at how easy it was to be with Brad. He was respectful, charming, and funny. Plus, he wasn’t too hard on the eyes. 

Your stomach turned as Brad observed the buildings along the canal. It was silent for once and you couldn’t help but admire his profile in the sunlight. He turned back around and caught your gaze, smiling at you. 

“Would you mind if I held your hand?” Brad asked quietly. The question took you by surprise, he always seemed so confident and for him to be asking you this only made him seem more charming. Wordlessly, you nodded. 

You tried not to blush as his hand met yours. Conversation resumed, this time more quietly. Brad scooted a bit closer to you, leaning in slightly to meet your eyes whenever you spoke. 

It was relaxing, holding hands with a cute boy as the water in the canal gently rocked you back and forth. You glanced up at some point, making eye contact with Brad and blushing lightly. You couldn’t help but be reminded of that one homecoming night that seemed so far away. As Brad began to lean in slowly, you panicked, images of Peter flashing through your mind and causing you to lean back slightly.

“Brad,” you started, speaking quietly. “Listen, I-”

You were interrupted by a large splash and looked ahead of you to see a column of water rising up from the canal.

“Watch out!” you heard Ned shout, standing slightly as he stared at the water. It continued to rise, taking a humanoid shape as water splashed everywhere. Everyone soon realized that the water entity was malevolent as it began to destroy the buildings surrounding you. Panic and chaos ensued quickly. 

The harsh rocking of the water sent both yours and Ned’s gondola towards the sidewalk, the four of you being sent forwards when the gondola met the cement. Ned reacted quickly, hopping out of the gondola and helping Betty out before turning to you and Brad. He waved at you, causing you to jump into action as well. Brad quickly made his way off the boat, turning to help you out. 

“(Y/N), watch out!” Ned cried, rushing towards you. Another column of water hit the gondola you were on, throwing the boys back and tossing you into the water. 

You broke the surface of the water, gasping desperately for air before being submerged once again. You were a good swimmer but the movement of the creature or whatever it was prohibited you from moving steadily. 

Your lungs burned from the absence of oxygen until all of a sudden, you were staring into the sun. Coughs escaped you as you finally got some air back into your system only for the air to be knocked out of you once more as you noticed you were swinging through the air. 

Bright brown eyes stared at you in concern as you flew through the air before finally landing on the balcony of a building. 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked frantically, eyes searching you for any visible wounds. 

“I’m fine,” you coughed out, taking your hair into your hands and wringing it out. “What is that thing?”

“I-I don’t know,” Peter admitted, still staring at you. “Listen (Y/N), I-”

Peter’s sentence was interrupted by a building tipping over and falling into the canal. You made eye contact, both of you going wide eyed.

“I should probably,” Peter said, gesturing to the thing with his thumb as he looked at you.

“Yeah of course,” you replied. “Pete, stay safe yeah?”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, hesitating for a moment before closing his mouth and nodding before swinging away. 

~

“(Y/N)!” Mr. Harrington yelled as you stepped into the hotel, rushing over to you and grabbing your shoulders. “Where were you?”

You shook your head, making eye contact with MJ as she stood in he corner. “Uh the boat I was on capsized when the thing came out of the water. I got swept up in the current but I was able to swim to the sidewalk and haul myself out.”

“Well thank god you’re safe,” Mr. Harrington said. “I was about to call the police!”

“I’m fine, really,” you replied, smiling slightly even though you knew it looked more like a grimace. “Can I go to my room?”

“What? Oh yes of course. Everyone to your rooms. Get some rest before tomorrow,” Mr. Harrington spoke once more, clapping his hands to hurry you all upstairs. You trudged up the stairs, avoiding the worried look Brad was shooting you. 

Once you had made it to your room, you took a nice, warm shower before settling into the hotel bed. Even though the hotel looked run down, the beds weren’t too bad. The covers were fluffy and the mattress was honestly very soft and comfortable. 

You were halfway through an episode of some random show on Netflix when you heard a soft knock on your door. Warily, you got up and approached the door. You opened it slightly, catching sight of a head of familiar brown curls before opening the door all the way.

“Uh hey,” Peter said softly, fidgeting with his hands as he stood in front of you. He looked nervous, something that made you feel a spark of joy. He deserved to feel slightly uncomfortable, especially after he had ignored you for the past years. “Can I come in?”

Wordlessly, you stepped aside, giving him the chance to trot into your room before you closed the door. 

“How are you?” Peter asked. “I know you’re a good swimmer b-but we have no idea w-what that thing was or what c-could’ve happened if you actually got caught in the current.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, walking back over to your bed. “Thanks by the way. For saving me.”

Peter’s eyes softened, though you didn’t notice. “It was n-no problem. Of course I s-saved you. How could I not? I’m sorry that it ruined your ride with Brad. How’s that going by the way, being with Brad? He’s p-pretty cool I g-guess-”

“What do you want Peter?” you sighed, interrupting his rambling. “First you ignore me for years and all of a sudden you think you can talk to me like nothing happened? I get you saved my life and I appreciate it, truly, but that doesn’t mean that things will go back to the way they were. In case you forgot, you were the one who pulled away from me.”

Peter flinched at your harsh tone, pulling his sleeves over his hands. “I know, but you have to understand that it wasn’t something I wanted to do.”

“I tried Peter!” you cried out, tears of frustration springing into your eyes. “I tried to talk to you. You just avoided me and then treated me like I never existed in the first place! Do you know how much that hurt?”

“I was hurting too,” Peter said quietly. “But I couldn’t put you at risk because you knew that I was Spider-Man. If the bad guys knew that you knew about Spider-Man they’d use you against me. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well you should’ve thought about that before you told me you loved me,” you said, holding your tears at bay.

“(Y/N),” Peter spoke softly.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please leave.”

Peter hesitated, taking one step towards you before changing his mind and heading towards your door. 

“You know, I don’t regret anything I said that night,” Peter said, pausing at the door. “But I am sorry about what I did after.”

Before you could reply, Peter was gone and all you could do was turn the lights off and settle into bed even tough you knew you wouldn’t get any sleep.

~

“Hey loser. What’s with the glasses?” MJ asked as she took the seat across from yours on the bus. You were currently seated alone, a large pair of sunglasses covering your puffy red eyes. You had cried after Peter had left your room, you couldn’t help it. 

You didn’t answer MJ, who simply shrugged and pulled out her book, knowing when to leave you to yourself. You looked out the window as you heard Mr. Harrington climb onto the bus and announce that there had been a change to your trip. 

The event with the water creature had shaken you all up, and parents were concerned. Mr. Harrington however, had convinced them to let you stay on the trip, telling them about how the travel agency had so kindly modified your trip. You were now on your way to Prague. 

The trip there was overall uneventful. The scenery was beautiful and you found yourself staring out the window for most of the trip. The bus stopped along the way, and you all found yourselves at an old, albeit charming, rest stop. 

Most of the group mumbled as they disembarked, anxious to get to a bathroom. You lagged behind them, glancing down at your phone and checking your notifications. Noticing the sudden silence, you looked up finally realizing that you had been standing in the parking lot for a few minutes. 

You started heading towards the building, pausing when you noticed something moving out of the corner of your eye. You turned your head just in time to see Brad disappear through a door that led into another part of the building. Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as your feet started moving in the direction of the door.

“Brad! It’s not what you think,” Peter’s panicked voice floated through the air. 

“I think it’s exactly what I think it is,” Brad replied. “And now I have proof to show (Y/N) that you’re not who she think you are.”

“What are you doing?” you asked as you finally stepped through the doorway. A shocked Brad whirled around at the sound of your voice, phone in hand displaying a picture of Peter in his underwear. You glanced at Peter, noticing a tall blonde woman standing behind him. You noticed Peter glancing at the bundle on the table before looking at you. Following his line of sight, you noticed what seemed to be an all black stealth suit lying on the polished surface.

Your lips twitched as the scene before you, noticing just how inappropriate it seemed to appear to Brad. Looking at the stealth suit once again, you realized just how quickly Peter’s secret could get out if Brad focused on the bundle of fabric. 

“Look!” Brad cried, gesturing to Peter and the woman. “Parker really came to Europe just to sleep around, can you believe it?”

“I actually can’t,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you. “First of all, taking pictures of someone in their underwear? That’s pretty messed up. Second of all, even if Peter was sleeping around, it wouldn’t be any of your business now, would it?”

Peter shot you a grateful look as Brad tried to stutter out a response.

“And besides,” you continued. “It wouldn’t be any of my business either. Peter and I aren’t exactly friends.”

Noise started up again outside as the class began to board the bus again. You turned and walked out, not paying attention to Brad scrambling after you. You heard Peter say a quick ‘thank you’ to the tall blonde and some rustling afterwards. You assumed he had stuffed his new suit into his backpack.

You boarded the bus, shooting Brad a glare as he passed your seat. He ducked his head, making his way towards the back instead. 

“Trouble in paradise?” MJ asked, a smirk on her face as she looked at you, then Brad.

You huffed, turning to the window. “Don’t even start.”

MJ chuckles as she took a seat a few rows behind you. The clearing of a throat caught your attention and you turned to see Peter standing in the aisle, gesturing to the seat beside you. “Uh, is this seat taken?”

You shook your head and Peter took that as a silent cue to slide in next to you. Having been expecting to sit alone, you hadn’t bothered to pull down the armrest that separated the two seat, something you regretted as Peter’s arm brushed against yours. 

Even after everything he had put you through, you found your cheeks heating up. You thought back to what he had said at the hotel, that he had been protecting you by pulling away. You understood why he did the things he did, you really did, but that didn't mean that you could just forget the way your heart would clench whenever he went about his day ignoring you. 

You had loved Peter. Heck, you still loved him but you knew you wouldn't be able to forgive him that easily. You proceeded to stare out the window, the scenery taking your breath away, until he hesitantly nudged your shoulder. 

“Thanks,” Peter said meekly. “For standing up to Brad for me.”

You shrugged your shoulders, not looking away from the window. “It was nothing. Besides, we couldn’t have him learning about your secret.”

“Y-yeah,” Peter replied. “That would’ve been pretty bad.”

You snorted, glancing at him just to see him staring at you. His eyes held a soft look and your stomach lurched as you realized it was the same look from the night of homecoming.

“I don’t like MJ,” Peter blurted out, cheeks heating up when he realized what he had said. He paused, decided he might as well just put it out there already. “I like you.”

You pursed your lips, looking back out the window before sighing. “Peter I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Peter nodded silently before whispering out a small ‘yeah okay’ and shifting in his seat. Even though your emotions were still jumbled and you had no idea why Peter had chosen now to apologize, you couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your face at his words. 

~

Everyone, even Flash, glanced around at the hotel that had been booked for you. It was magnificent, definitely an upgrade from the one you had stayed in while in Venice. The rooms were huge, and included a balcony that gave you a beautiful view of the city. 

Music played softly as you sifted through your suitcase, looking for the clothes you would be wearing to the opera the next day. Pulling out a semi-formal dress, you nodded contently to yourself before hanging it up near the mirror. 

Your eyebrows furrowed when you hear a ‘thwip’ and you saw Peter swing onto the balcony. He stood on there awkwardly, waiting for your permission to come into your room. You tilted your head slightly, motioning for him to come in. 

He took a seat on your bed, eyes never leaving the floor. He didn’t even look up when you pulled a chair over and sat in front of him. 

“What is it Pete?” you asked quietly. You were tired. You still felt angry but you understood Peter’s reasoning. He had lost so much; his parents, his uncle, Tony. He didn't want to lose anyone else. And you loved him. You felt that it was time to hear him out. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said after a while. He bit his bottom lip before continuing. “I know that those two words are not enough to make up for everything that I did for these past years and that they’re definitely not enough to make up for what I put you through. But I was scared.”

Peter’s voice cracked at the last words, and your face softened when you noticed the tears in his eyes. 

“You don’t understand,” he continued, furiously wiping his eyes. “I thought it was cool, being Spider-Man. I guess I never realized just how big of a responsibility it was even though everyone kept reminding me. For the longest time I was just the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but when T-Thanos came along, everything became so much more complicated. I finally got to see firsthand what consequences trying to be a hero brought. I mean, I know I had already lost my parents and B-Ben, but seeing everything Tony gave up for the greater good and seeing just how much Captain America gave up in order to save the world made me realize that nothing good lasts for people like us.”

You stood and walked over to Peter, taking a seat. Silently, you took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. 

“You mean so much to me (Y/N/N),” Peter whispered, finally meeting your eyes. “But I’m just a kid and I don’t know what to do. Everyone keeps telling me that I’m supposed to step up and take Tony’s spot, because the world needs a new defender but I don’t think I can. I’m a kid (Y/N).”

Tears were rolling down Peter’s cheeks at this point. “I know that we’re supposed to be heroes, but its hard. A-and I thought that if I pushed you away, I’d never have to deal with the pain of losing you, but ignoring you was worse! I just never wanted to be put in a situation where I could lose you. I-If people knew that you knew about Spidey, they’d use you against me, and they wouldn’t hesitate to do things to you.”

By this point, Peter was full on sobbing. His head was nestled into the crook of your neck and you could feel the hot, fat tears rolling down your skin. You held him tightly, not being able to understand the pain he was feeling. You never would. Minutes passed and you found yourself lying down on the bed, Peter still in your arms. His cries had died down some but he still found himself hiccupping every once in a while. 

“I forgive you,” you said eventually. “What you did hurt, but I understand why you did it. But Pete, please listen to me when I tell you that’s it is most definitely okay if you don’t want to step up and take Tony’s place. You said it yourself, you’re just a kid. No one, not even Spider-Man, should be forced to grow up that quickly.”

“Thank you,” Peter whispered after a few minutes. “And I’m sorry for hurting you.I wish I could say I never meant to, but I was trying to keep you safe.”

You pressed your lips to his forehead, choosing not to reply. 

“I still love you,” Peter admitted unsurely, not knowing how you’d react. 

“I never stopped,” you mumbled. Peter’s arms tightened around you and you laid there, eventually drifting off to sleep.

~

The next day, both you and Peter were in a better mood, and everyone could tell. MJ kept shooting you smug, knowing looks, and not even that could dampen your mood. 

The majority of the day was uneventful, and that evening you all found yourselves on your way to the opera house. You trailed slightly behind the group, eyes wandering around the building a you took in every detail no matter how small.

“Hey,” your staring was interrupted as Brad came up to you, hands in his pockets. “The show’s about to start and I was wondering if you wanted to sit together.”

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to reply but you were stopped when a hand intertwined itself with yours. 

“Sorry Brad,” Peter said, a small smile on his face. “She’s actually sitting with me.”

Your cheeks heated up as Brad glanced at your joined hands before stepping backwards. 

“Oh yeah, sure. No problem. I uh, I should be heading in,” Brad said, awkwardly turning away and heading over to the seats. 

You could see MJ looking from Brad to you, the realization of what had just happened hitting her as she burst out into laughter. You began walking towards the seats, only moving a few feet before you felt Peter tug your hand back.

“What’s wrong Pete?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I have to go,” he said quietly, tugging at his shirt collar.

You looked at him, realizing that he must be wearing his suit underneath. “Go. I’ll cover for you.”

Peter leaned forwards, placing a kiss on your forehead before sprinting out of the building. You quietly made your way over to your group, sitting next to MJ.

“Where’s Peter?” Mr. Harrington asked across the row. 

“He wasn’t feeling too good sir,” you replied smoothly. “He’s in the bathroom currently, but he’ll be fine.”

“Oh, okay,” Mr. Harrington replied, glancing behind him at the bathroom door. “I hope he comes out soon.”

“He will,” you reassured your teacher before settling into your chair, going quiet as the lights dimmed and the show started.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember anything from the show. You had fallen asleep five minutes in, your head resting on MJ’s shoulder. The group arrived at the hotel a few hours later, the trip blurry due to the fact that you were still groggy from your nap.

You were close to sleep, curled up on your bed, when Peter came swinging through your window again. He landed harshly, crashing into the bedframe as he tried to regain his balance. You instantly shot out of bed, helping him sit on a chair nearby.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Peter gasped, yanking his mask off. “Just a few bruises, nothing too serious.”

You sighed in relief before noticing the thing in Peter’s hands. “Pete, what is that?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Peter admitted, scratching his head as he looked at the black object.

You carefully took it in your hands, inspecting it as you turned it over in your hands. You saw a lens, but other than that, the object was pretty sleek. 

“I think,” you spoke hesitantly. “I think its a projector of some kind. It looks like pretty advanced tech though. Where did you get this?”

Peter cursed under his breath, taking the projector from you. He ran his hands over it until his nail caught something. It seemed he had pressed a button, and the projector began to shudder. Shocked, Peter dropped it and it hit the floor, turning itself on. 

A giant creature appeared in your room and Peter pulled you towards him for safety. The creature’s arm swung towards the two of you and you braced yourself for the impact only to feel...nothing.

“It’s all fake,” Peter said, staring at the projection. “He’s a liar.”

“Who?” you asked, walking away from Peter and picking up the projector. The illusion disappeared and you tossed the projector back at Peter.

“Mysterio,” he replied as he caught it, placing it on your bed. “He told us that the use of the Infinity Stones against Thanos had caused a rip in the fabric of the universe, allowing him to come here from his world.”

You snorted. “And you believed him?”

“(Y/N), I went to space. I saw many things. You can’t blame me for finding his story believable,” Peter defended himself.

“Okay you’re right. I’m sorry,” you apologized, a smirk on your face. The smirk quickly faded however, when Peter’s eyes suddenly went wide. “What’s wrong Pete?”

“I-I gave them to him,” he whispered in a panic. “O-Oh my god. I gave them to him.”

“Gave what to who Pete?” you asked, slowly approaching him. 

“The glasses! The glasses Mr. Stark gave me. They have access to everything in Stark Industries, including weapons and satellites. And I gave them to Mysterio,” Peter cried, tugging at his hair.

This time, your eyes widened as you took in the severity of the situation. “Oh shit. Okay well its well past midnight now. Go to sleep and tomorrow we can go tell whoever is in charge and get your glasses back.”

“No!” Peter exclaimed. “No us. I’ll go talk to Fury tomorrow. I can’t drag you into this.”

You bit your lip and nodded, knowing he was right. You had no superpowers, what would you do if something happened. “Alright, but please stay safe.”

Peter nodded, stepping closer to you. “I’m gonna go to sleep. You should too.”

You nodded in agreement, walking him to the door. Before leaving, Peter leaned down, eyes flickering to your lips. Your breath caught in your throat and you stood still, unable to move. Carefully, Peter pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back and checking the hallway, making sure the coast was clear. 

Satisfied with his observation, he stepped out into the hallway. “Good night (Y/N/N).”

“Good night Peter,” you said, smiling at him. He walked off quickly trying not to be seen in his Spidey suit. Grinning at him once more before he closed his own door, you sighed softly. A sudden movement caught your eye and you turned your head to see MJ standing in her doorway, leaning against the structure with her arms crossed. 

“MJ!” you yelped. “Its not what it looks like.”

“Please,” she scoffed. “I already knew he was Spider-Man. He’s not exactly the best at hiding it.”

You opened your mouth to reply but then thought better of it, instead closing it and nodding in agreement.

“I’m just glad you two finally made up,” she said before turning around and going back into her room. “Good night!”

“Night,” you replied, going back into your room and closing the door. 

Walking further into the room, you stopped suddenly, seeing a figure standing at your bed, projector in hand. They were dressed in a dramatic outfit, their head covered by what looked like a fishbowl. 

“Y’know,” the figure spoke, turning around. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this.”

The fishbowl disappeared, revealing a young, attractive man. He slowly walked towards you, extending his hand. “Quentin Beck. Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“How do you know my name?” you asked, not moving an inch.

Quentin smiled, putting his hand down. He was surprised that you weren’t scared and he could see why Peter liked you. “Eh, spider-kid mentioned you once or twice.”

You bristled at the mention of Peter. You quickly realized that this was Mysterio, and decided that lying was your best option. “Did he? That’s a surprise, considering he hasn’t talked to me in years.”

Quentin laughed delightedly. “See, that’s a lie. Peter has been talking to me, telling me all about his progress with you. I know you’ve made up, and I also know that you figured out what this is.”

He held up the projector before stepping even closer to you. “I might not be able to take him out without raising suspicion, but I can sure as hell make sure he doesn't go to Fury about this.”

The last thing you remember was being surrounded by a green mist.

~

You woke up in your hotel room. Sitting up, you looked around, trying to figure out what had happened last night. 

Had you really imagined Mysterio in your room?

You slipped out of bed when you saw the time, quickly changing into some jeans and a shirt and slipping on some sneakers before heading into the bathroom. You washed your face and brushed your teeth, quickly fixing your hair before sprinting to your door. You paused briefly, scanning the room before going down to the lobby.

The projector was missing. 

“Ms. (L/N)!” Mr. Harrington exclaimed when you arrived. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry,” you said, walking over to Peter and MJ. “I overslept.”

Mr. Harrington nodded before turning and leading your group out of the hotel. You frowned slightly when you noticed MJ and Peter’s intertwined hands. Walking up to them, you tapped Peter’s shoulders, tilting your head slightly to the side. Understanding you, Peter squeezed MJ’s hand softly before following you. 

“What’s going on?” you asked once you were far enough.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Are you and MJ a thing?” you asked, confused. 

Peter laughed. “Yeah, yeah we are. Listen (Y/N) everything I told you before, I lied. I do like MJ. I don't actually love you.”

You looked at him strangely. “Oh okay, Thank god, that would’ve been awkward. We’ve been friends for so long I can’t see you that way.”

You chuckled, pretending not to notice the way Peter’s eyes widened. You began walking. “So what are you gonna do about Mysterio?”

“Nothing,” Peter replied quickly. “I’m gonna try and focus on my relationship with MJ right now. I’m gonna hold off on going to Fury.”

“Well you said he had called you right?” you asked. He nodded. “Well just forward me the number and I’ll call him.”

“Why would you do that?” Peter asked. 

“Because I know exactly what’s happening right now and I know that you have to be stopped,” you replied. 

You stood still as the scenery around you faded away. In front of you stood Quentin, who was clapping slowly as he walked up to you. 

“When did you know?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face.

“Before I left the hotel room,” you replied. “The projector was gone. And Mr. Harrington has never referred to me as ‘Ms. (L/N)’.”

Quentin nodded, stroking his chin in thought. “You’re smart.”

You glared at him in disbelief. 

“No really! You are,” Quentin exclaimed. “Poor Spider-Man couldn’t break out of my projections quick enough. Shame, kid’s probably dead now. Hit by a train.”

You didn’t react. You knew that’s what he wanted; for you to cry, scream, anything. Instead, you stood there silently, looking at him expectantly. “If he’s dead then why am I still here.”

“Oh you’re good,” Quentin said. “Real good. I expected some kind of emotional breakdown from you. Are you a hero too? You seem too well composed to be an average person.”

“Nope, no powers,” you replied. “Just good with emotions, I guess.”

“Okay, well to answer your question,” Quentin continued. “You’re still here because we both know he’s not dead. I said that to try and get you to break but he’s enhanced. He’s probably badly injured, sure, but not dead. Plus, he knows I have you. He’ll follow us wherever we go just to get you back.”

“First of all, what makes you think I won’t escape? Second of all, he won't follow us.” you said.

“You’re smart, but not smart enough,” Quentin said, striding over to you. “As for Peter, he’ll come. He loves you. I know young love when I see it.”

Quentin said the last part with disgust, causing you to smirk. “Aww did someone hurt big, bad Quentin?”

You gasped as Quentin grasped your jaw tightly. “Shut it. Just because I need you alive doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you.”

Your eyes never left his as he spoke, and your smirk never left your face. He let you go, throwing you to the side harshly. 

“What a shame,” he spoke, picking up a crowbar. “Under different circumstances you could’ve been such a wonderful asset to my...mission.”

Without giving you a chance to reply, Quentin spun around, swinging the crowbar and effectively knocking you out. 

“Now,” he spoke, standing over your body. “On to London.”

~

Peter was having a pretty shitty day. First, he woke up to find you missing, but brushed it off and labelled it as bad timing. Secondly, he had gone to Fury with his new information, only to find out that he had been manipulated by Mysterio. 

Oh and of course he couldn’t ignore the fact that he had gotten hit by a truck. 

After waking up somewhere in the Netherlands (he still couldn’t pronounce the name of the town) and contacting Happy, he had broken down. While talking with Happy had helped him, it only reminded him of the conversation he had had with you a few nights ago, causing his heart to clench as he remembered that Mysterio had taken you hostage. 

Out of all the lies that Quentin Beck had fed him, Peter knew that he wasn’t lying when he had told him that he had you. 

And that’s how he found himself designing a new suit, making sure to take every precaution as Happy flew them to London. even though he knew that stopping Mysterio should be his main goal, he couldn’t deny the fact that your safety was his top priority. 

In Peter’s head, the majority of the fight was a blur. He knew that his class was safe, for the most part and he also knew that the city of London was thrown into chaos as Mysterio’s grandest illusion yet appeared. 

The Elemental Fusin illusion had been taken down, but Peter was still faced with a mass of drones as he struggled to get to Beck. Peter grunted as he continuously confronted more drones, eventually making it onto the bridge and using his webs to destroy Mysterio’s fishbowl-like helmet. 

Upon destroying the dome, the scenery around Peter shifted slightly, and he turned to see Beck holding you by your hair. Peter breathed in sharply when he saw you, dried blood on your face but otherwise unharmed. 

“(Y/N),” he muttered, causing Quentin to smile widely. 

“Ah Peter,” he said, sliding the EDITH glasses onto his face. “I thought you were dead.”

“No you didn’t,” you muttered, causing Quentin to frown at you. 

“Ok, no I didn’t,” he admitted. “But you will be. Soon. Listen kid, it’s better if you let me leave. I won’t have to hurt your dear (Y/N).”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Peter said softly, his eyes never leaving you. 

“God I wish you didn’t say that,” Quentin replied, chuckling. “EDITH? Yeah, enable the other drones.”

Peter took a step forward before stopping, multiple drones appearing in front of him ready to fire. Glancing at you once more, Peter took off, jumping and swinging through the sea of drones. 

Pausing slightly, he noticed there was only two drones left and grabbing one, he catapulted over the final one. The drone shot twice, missing both times but managing to hit the other one in Peter’ s hands. Using the last of his webs Peter threw the last one into the side of the bridge, effectively destroying it. 

Pulling his mask off, he turned towards you, only to see both you and Beck on the ground. 

“(Y/N)!,” Peter cried as he rushed towards you. You were holding your side, wincing slightly as you sat up. Across from you was Quentin, doing the same but holding his stomach instead. 

“I’m fine Pete,” you groaned. “It barely got me.”

Satisfied with the fact that you weren’t dying, Peter stood up and made his way over to Beck. 

“You lied to me. I trusted you,” Peter spoke sadly, looking down at Quentin.

“I know,” he replied, coughing slightly. “You’re a good person Peter. Such a weakness. Stark was right you know.”

Glancing at the EDITH glasses, Quentin continued. “You do deserve that.”

Your eyes widened as Peter extended his arm, a gunshot going off as he did. Quentin stood at his side, gun in hand as the Quentin on the floor dissipated. 

“You can't trick me anymore,” Peter stated, plucking the EDITH glasses off Quentin’s face and placing them on his own. Quentin sunk to the ground. “EDITH, turn off the drones!”

Looking around at the destruction surrounding you, you looked at Quentin. “How could you do all this?”

“You’ll see,” Quentin rasped, his breathing shallow. “People tend to believe, and nowadays...they’ll believe anything.”

You shuddered as Quentin’s eyes went dull.

“Is he?” Peter asked quietly. Crawling over to Beck, you checked his pulse before nodding. 

Quentin Beck was dead.

~

You had finally gotten to meet the infamous Nick Fury when Peter insisted on getting your wounds checked out. He had stared you down as they worked on the injury from the drone, impressed by the way you didn’t flinch once. Your head had also been checked out and you had been allowed to leave once they had made sure you didn't have a concussion.

Before leaving, Fury had slipped a card into your hand. “If you ever need a job, feel free to call. We could use people like you around here.”

You had smiled before slipping your hands into Peter’s and following him out. 

Before you knew it, you were back in New York. The trip back had been exhausting, with everyone having been concerned about where you had disappeared to and with MJ demanding to know all the details about what had happened. 

Eventually, you settled back into your routine. The only thing that had changed was your relationship with Peter. After the whole Mysterio debacle, Peter realized that rather than push you away, he’d rather have you close. That had led you to where you were now, getting ready for your date. 

You were dancing around giddily to the music blasting from your speaker, shrieking softly when a knock came from your window. There stood Peter, clad in his Spider-Man suit (without the mask) and smiling amusedly as he watched you. 

Opening your window, you smiled at him, cheeks still red. “Creep.”

He said nothing, instead choosing to pull you to him and place his lips on yours. You sighed softly into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You stood there for a few minutes, exchanging soft kisses until you were smiling widely. 

“Well hello to you too, Pete,” you said, pulling back and looking into his eyes.

“I love you,” Peter whispered, leaning in and kissing you once more. “So, you ready?”

You giggled delightedly. “I love you too. Where are we off too?”

Peter smiled upon hearing your words. “I was thinking about going for a swing?”

You nodded happily, following him to the window and holding on tightly as he swung. You sailed through the city for a while before landing on the roof a building. Sitting down next to Peter, you placed your head on his shoulder as you took in the view. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah you are,” Peter replied looking down at you. You rolled your eyes at his cheesiness before pulling him into another kiss.

The two of you spent the rest of the day there, talking about everything and nothing, exchanging soft kisses, and simply enjoying each others company, happy that you the two of you had finally gotten over your fears and gotten together.

And so there the two of you remained, blissfully unaware of the story that The Daily Bugle had just published.

[three-drink-amy]

Sweet Creature

Bonus chapter for the week! I’m finished writing the story, so I MAY change posting to twice a week if people were interested. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

master list - AO3

Chapter Thirteen

No one ever said that being in a long distance relationship was easy. It made it even less easy when said relationship is less than a month old. Jamie realized that it helped that they’d known each other for ten years. If they were a new couple, and completely new to each other, they’d be a mess trying to attempt long distance for an undetermined amount of time. But having their friendship to fall back on certainly had its perks. 

They’d been doing well so far. It was only a couple of weeks in and they’d talked nearly every night. Claire had a lot to tell about the progress on the new store and Jamie was always eager to hear it. He may not be an official investor anymore, but he’d always been emotionally invested. There had been plenty of nights in the last two weeks that he’d skipped out on plans with other people because he thought there was a chance Claire would call him. And most nights, that’s what happened. 

But even getting to talk to her that often, he couldn’t deny that he still missed her. It had only been a bit over a month that they’d been talking again. Even though they’d talked things out and now were onto a different phase of life together, he couldn’t help but worry that one day she’d just stop calling. Because of that, he probably always sounded too eager for her calls. He’d text her each evening when he was back from the office to let her know when he was free to talk. Maybe he was making himself too available, but he didn’t care. He needed Claire in his life. And that was just the way it had to work at the moment. 

He was sitting in his office, counting down the minutes until he could leave and call Claire. It had been a rough day and he just needed to hear her voice. He texted her before he even left, trying to get a feel for how busy she was that day. 

I’ll be working late. Sorry! I’ll call you when I’m walking back to my hotel. Chin up! 

Jamie sighed, leaning back in his chair. He should be trying to look like he was busy, but he didn’t care enough to do so. John walked in and threw himself down in one of his chairs. “So I think everyone’s planning to go get drinks after this. You in?” 

He looked down at his phone and reread the text from Claire. “Yeah,” he said with a grimace. “A stiff drink sounds good after today.” 

John shook his head with a dark look. “I was thinking we could all get drunk and plan on how to properly assassinate St. Germain. Thoughts?” 

Jamie grinned. “I canna see how that could go wrong.” John laughed, standing up to go back to his desk. “I’ll see ye in a few.” 

There was a rather large group of his coworkers that ended up going out for drinks that evening. The raucous group sat at a small bar downing whisky like it was water. They were commiserating their shared terrible day before they went around each picking a different aspect of their boss to drag through the mud. It was just one of those days. But each drink somehow made Jamie miss Claire more. John sat next to him and caught on to how many times Jamie had been checking his phone. 

“Waiting to hear from Claire?” John asked. He’d not so secretly been excited for Jamie’s new relationship. Jamie nodded, taking another drink. “I’m sure she’ll call. You said she always does.” 

“She does. I just miss her,” Jamie groaned as he ran a hand down his face. 

“That’s so cute,” John said. He flashed his friend a teasing look. “You’re just head over heels for her, aren’t you?” Jamie rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” John leaned in closer. “And between you and me, I have to say that she’s the best one you’ve ever dated.” 

Jamie smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ye dinna have to tell me that.” 

They carried on drinking and eventually, it was John’s turn to get the next round. He vacated his spot next to Jamie. It was quickly filled by the last person Jamie wanted to talk to. He glanced over to see Annalise sitting next to him. Angling himself away, he turned to talk to the person on the other side of him. He hoped John would come and reclaim his seat. How the woman had never gotten the hint was beyond him. She tapped him on the shoulder and he rolled his eyes as he looked over at her. 

“What’s the matter?” she asked, batting her eyelashes. He wondered how on earth he ever found her alluring. That had evaporated so fast. 

“Just felt like chatting wi’ Marcus,” Jamie said with a gesture to the man on his left. He turned back but she tapped his shoulder again. 

“You seem more down than everyone else here,” she pointed out. 

“Aye, perhaps so,” he agreed. “I was just wishing my girlfriend could be here.” 

Anger flashed in her eyes before she covered it up with a smile. “Well that’s her loss,” she said, her hand resting on his shoulder. 

He scowled at her, shrugging off her hand before he walked over to the bar where John was standing. John grinned as he watched him approach. “I canna stand her,” Jamie said with a sigh. 

“Sure, none of us can,” John agreed. “But to be fair, you did make that mess yourself.” Jamie glared at him. “I wanted to tell you she’d be nothing but trouble.” 

“I wish ye had.” 

“Are you telling me that no one tried to tell you that you were going down the wrong path?” John asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“No, one person did,” Jamie admitted. 

“Claire?” 

“Yep.” 

John burst out laughing. “Leave it to her to tell it to you straight only to have you make a pretty terrible mistake and have it ruin your work life.” He glanced back at Annalise. “I could have told you she’d be nothing but boring once you took the chase away.” 

“I should ha’ known it on my own. She was just distracting in a way I hadna been in a while, so I thought that was something bigger,” Jamie confessed. “Twas wrong of me.” 

“We all make mistakes, mate.” 

Jamie sighed. “Ye dinna have to tell me that. Somehow I still feel like I’m paying for my last and biggest mistake.” 

“What, the thing with Claire?” John asked. “Why do you think that? The two of you are literally dating now.” 

“I dinna ken. I canna explain it,” Jamie replied, his face a bit crumpled. 

“Have you talked to her about it?” 

“Of course no’. We’re living in different cities presently. Tis hard to talk about those types of things over the phone. It’s probably just all in my head anyway. I think I’m just scared to lose her again. It was hard to be wi’out her before I confessed how I was feeling. Now...well I dinna think I could handle that,” Jamie said in a small voice. 

John stared at him for a moment. “That kind of sounds like something you should talk about with your girlfriend. Don’t you think?” 

“Maybe. I was thinking of going to Edinburgh and surprising her soon. I just dinna ken how busy she’d be on a weekend.” 

“Well it’s not like you’re completely unhelpful,” John replied with a grin. “I’m sure you could help out if she had things to do.” 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a fair point. I could.” 

“Yeah, and then you could talk to your girlfriend about how much you love her and need her in your life.” Jamie shot him a look. “Communication is healthy, James.” 

“Ye sound like my sister.” 

“Can I ask you something?” Jamie raised a brow, encouraging him to continue. “When did you realize you loved her that way? Was it when you two weren’t speaking?” 

Jamie took a drink of his whisky. He’d never even really told Claire about that. “I suppose I realized what it all meant when she wouldna talk to me. I always felt this odd possessiveness of her and was verra critical of anyone interested in her. She was always the standard that I judged the lasses I dated by, but I never took the time to think about why that might be. I dinna ken, but I’m sure if I sat down and really thought about it, I’d find that it has been a lot longer than just the last couple of months. I wish I’d slowed down and tried to think through what I was really feeling. Maybe then we wouldna be mere weeks into a relationship when she had to go to Edinburgh.” Jamie sighed, staring down at his glass. “I just truly had no idea that she felt that way for me.” 

“You didn’t?” 

Jamie glanced over at his friend. “Did ye think she did?” 

John shook his head. “No, but I met her after years of you two being friends. I always just thought you were really close.” 

“I guess I just never thought she’d want me,” Jamie admitted. “And so I never allowed myself to think about it. Just looked to other women instead of the one right next to me the whole time. I suppose I should have known by the fact that I was willing to bankroll her business.” 

“That’s not really something you do for just a friend,” John agreed. “But you’re together now, right?” 

Jamie nodded, still feeling a bit on edge. “Aye. We are.” 

He felt his pocket vibrate and his face lit up as he pulled his phone out. Claire’s picture smiled up at him and he fumbled to answer. “Sassenach!” 

“Hi, there! Not too late is it?” 

“No’ at all!” He looked over at John, pointing to his phone. “I’ll see ye later, mate.” 

“Bye,” John whispered. 

“It sounds like you’re somewhere loud,” Claire said. “Where are you?” 

Jamie paid his tab quickly. “Rough day at the office today, so a large group of us took over a pub nearby to drink our sorrows away,” Jamie explained as he finished paying. 

“Well, I can just talk to you tomorrow,” Claire offered. 

“No!” Jamie replied. “No, I’d much rather talk to ye. I just paid my tab and everything.” He walked out onto the quieter street, hoping he could hear her better. “So, how is the bakery going?” 

On the other end, Claire was smiling at his quick dismissal of her offer to hang up. “It’s going well. Things are all coming together in a pretty way. It’s been a while since I did this part, you know.” 

“Aye. But this is yer third time. Ye’re basically a pro by now,” Jamie insisted. 

Claire laughed. “Well I don’t know about that.” She took a drink of water as she laid on the couch in her hotel room. “So, what was so bad about work today?” 

Jamie groaned. “St. Germain was on one. He...hold on,” he cut himself off. Claire could hear something in the background. She narrowed her eyes as she tried to listen in closer. 

Jamie heard his name being called and turned around on the sidewalk to see Annalise tearing after him. “You forgot your jacket!” she said as she caught up to him. 

He grabbed it from her quickly. “Thanks.” Turning back to the way he was walking, he started talking to Claire again. A hand on his arm made him turn around again. Annalise was looking at him expectantly. “Can I help ye?” 

“You just left so quickly. You didn’t even say goodbye,” she said, a flirtatious look on her face. 

He pointed at his phone. “I’m on a call.” 

“What’s going on?” Claire asked in one ear. 

“You could always hang up and call back later,” Annalise suggested, trying to pull him back to the bar. 

“Claire, hold on,” Jamie said into the phone. He held it to his shoulder as he turned to Annalise. “Just go on back to the bar. Or go home. But leave me alone, woman. I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that I’m no’ interested.” 

Despite Jamie’s attempts to muffle his side of the call, Claire could still hear it. 

“Twas one date, months ago. I think ye should realize that I’ve moved on. Perhaps ye should as well. Find someone else to play yer games because it willna be me anymore. Aye?” 

He walked away before Annalise could reply. Putting the phone back to his ear, he sighed. “Sorry about that, what were we talking about?” 

“Your work,” Claire reminded him. 

“Ah, that’s right. St. Germain spent most of the afternoon tearing all of us to bits. So, some drinking was required after the evening,” Jamie explained. “I only agreed to go since ye said ye were working late.” 

He continued on but Claire had spaced out a bit. She chimed in here and there when necessary, but wasn’t entirely present for the conversation. Long distance was hard for her, especially when all she wanted was the reassurance of Jamie’s arms around her. But right now, he was closer to the woman who was still trying to sink her claws into him. They talked for a while before Claire begged off, saying she had to get up early in the morning. Jamie understood and bid her goodnight, saying he hoped they’d have a chance to talk tomorrow. She muttered an agreement before hanging up the call. It wasn’t a total lie; she did have to get up in the morning. But sleep didn’t come easily to her. She couldn’t help but continuously picture her worst nightmare over and over. 

The next day when Jamie texted to see if she was free, she lied. 

* * *

Nine days and a lot of missed opportunities to talk to Claire later, Jamie was sitting at a bar with Joe. “I’m glad ye could meet me,” Jamie said, raising his glass slightly. “Been a bit lonely,” he added with a laugh. “So, how’s wedding planning going?” 

Joe shook his head with a sigh. “You mean when Gayle actually asks me what I want for my wedding?” 

Jamie laughed. “Have ye fought her on anything?” 

“Not a damn thing,” Joe confessed. “Honestly, I haven’t cared. I just want her to want to include me. But things are slowing down significantly now.” 

Jamie’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that?” 

“Well we set a date,” Joe told him. Jamie looked excited for them. “It’s in nineteen months.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Joe nodded, his lips forming a tight line. “Gayle found this castle and absolutely had to have the wedding there. I want her to have the wedding she wants, so I said sure. But the earliest they had, which was already a cancellation, was nineteen months from now.” 

“That’s almost two years,” Jamie pointed out. 

“Yeah, I know. I wish I had a better “Castle Guy.” But I didn’t look into one of those when I moved here,” Joe joked. 

“Are ye okay wi’ that long an engagement?” Jamie asked hesitantly. 

“Sure. I mean, in a lot of different ways, it already feels like we’re married. We’ve lived together since I moved to Scotland for medical school. We just decided a while back that we wouldn’t look at getting married until we were both established in our careers,” Joe said with a shrug. “So I feel pretty good about it. And if Gayle gets her dream venue, then that’s all the better. I know she can’t wait to invite people from the States to her wedding in a damn castle.” 

Jamie laughed, taking a drink of his beer. “Canna beat that.” 

“I guess I can tell Claire that she can slow down on her plans for my Stag Party,” Joe mused with an amused shake of his head. “Girl was saying just last night how she had such great ideas for it, no matter how many times I told her she doesn’t have to plan it.” 

Joe was laughing but Jamie was fixated on what Joe had said. He cleared his throat. “Ye talked to Claire last night?” 

The other man froze as he was about to put a pretzel in his mouth. “Yes.” 

“Gotcha,” Jamie replied shortly. He picked up his beer and took a long drink. “If she talked to ye, I wonder why she texted me and said she was going to bed early and wouldna have any time to talk.” 

Joe closed his eyes in a grimace. “So, how are you guys doing?” 

Jamie shook his head. “I thought we were doing fine. Claire’s been plenty busy, but apparently, no’ as busy as she’s let on.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I just miss her and long distance is terrible. And there’s no definitive time that it’ll be over. But I thought we were good. I guess no’ if she’s dodging my calls.” 

Joe sighed. “I’m sorry I said anything. I didn’t realize.” 

“Dinna worry about it. I was thinking about going to Edinburgh to surprise her,” Jamie mentioned. 

An odd look came over Joe’s face. “You might want to do that. I think that would be a good idea.” 

Jamie picked up on his tone and narrowed his eyes at the other man. “What do ye ken that I dinna?” 

“Nothing!” Joe exclaimed with an unconvincing shrug. Jamie stared at him until he caved. “Look, she just said something to me yesterday.” 

“What did she say?” Jamie asked, leaning across the table. 

“Just that she...had some doubts,” Joe explained, clearly feeling uncomfortable. 

“Doubts?” Jamie cried. “What doubts? About our relationship?” 

“I don’t know. She didn’t explain. It was said one time and when I tried to press her on it, she clammed up and said that she shouldn’t have mentioned it,” Joe told him. “But whatever it is, that might be why she’s been weird about taking your calls.” 

Jamie sighed, his head hanging in his hands. “I’m racking my brain right now trying to figure out what I’ve done wrong.” 

“There’s no guarantee it’s you,” Joe reminded him. “She didn’t say what it was.” 

“But it was about our relationship?” 

Joe’s face scrunched as he nodded. “I guess. Maybe.” 

Jamie shook his head, feeling helpless. “If I go to Edinburgh, am I going to be broken up with?” 

“No!” Joe said emphatically. “No, that would be silly.” He looked at Jamie with a pointed expression. “I think you should go and spend some time together. I think it would be good for the both of you.” 

Jamie released a large sigh. “Maybe so.” 

* * *

Friday night came and Claire was relieved to have the weekend to relax. She walked into her hotel room and threw her bag down on the floor before laying down on the couch. It felt good to just stop moving for a bit. Feeling her phone in her back pocket, Claire dug it out and looked at it. Her lockscreen was a picture of her and Jamie. She stared at his face for a long time, pressing the button again each time it went dark. Finally, she felt the urge to return all his missed calls from the last week or so. Even though she felt guilty, she didn’t know how to call him when she was as nervous about their relationship as she was. Given how well he knew her, she knew he’d pick up on her hesitance. So, instead, she just didn’t call him. She’d texted him a few times throughout the days, though they were mostly replies to his messages. 

But this time, her need to hear his voice drowned out her fears. She called him, getting antsy as the line started ringing. 

“Hello?” 

“Jamie!” she cried. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.” 

“Sassenach, how are ye?” he asked. Something seemed off about his voice, but she thought maybe he’d just had a long day. 

“Doing alright. I just got home from the bakery. Well, not home home. I got back to my hotel,” she said. A horn honked on his end of the call. “Where are you?” 

“Walking home from work,” he said. “How’s the bakery coming?” 

“It’s good. I miss you, though.” She wished she could see his face. 

“Aye, I do too,” he agreed, a sad tone to his voice. “Out of curiosity, if I were to send ye something, what is yer room number?” 

Claire smiled to herself. “What are you sending me?” 

“Room number, woman!” he repeated, his voice a bit lighter. 

She laughed. “It’s 743.” 

“Aye, thank ye. Tell me more about how everything’s coming,” he pressed. 

“Going well. We’ve hired a staff though they won’t officially start for a bit yet. We’re still in the construction stage. But I’m trying to work ahead and have everything that we need ready for when I need to start with the staff training.” She continued on, only stopping when there was a knock at her door. “Hold on. Someone’s at the door.” 

Claire jumped up, surprised beyond belief when it was Jamie on the other side of the door. “Oh my god, you’re here?” He grinned as he nodded in reply. She threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him. Drawing him in over the threshold, she hugged him tightly. A thump against the floor drew her back as he tossed his bag just inside the door. “God, I’ve missed you,” she said, cupping his cheeks. “It’s so bloody good to see you.” 

Jamie nodded, quieter than usual. “Aye, and ye.” 

“What made you decide to come?” 

An odd look crossed his face. “Well, I’d been thinking of it for a bit. I missed ye. But I ken ye’ve been verra busy, so I wasna sure when the right time would be.” He walked further into the room. “I had drinks wi’ Joe the other night and he seemed to think it was a good idea. Especially after something you’d said to him the night before.” He turned and looked at her, a strained expression coloring his face. “Which I believe was one of the nights ye told me ye couldna talk because ye were going to bed so early. Which was actually just one time in a string of instances where ye couldna call. But apparently, ye can talk to Joe.” 

Claire closed her eyes, grimacing. “Jamie,” she started. 

He kept going. “Joe seemed to think ye were having doubts,” he added, staring her down, daring her to agree. She opened and closed her mouth, no sound coming out. “I thought it was odd to hear it from him. Ye see, I figured when ye and I got together, it would be perfect because we already tell each other everything. But I suppose that’s no’ true.” 

Her arms came around her torso, trying to hold in her emotions. “Jamie, it’s nothing, really.” 

“Joe didna seem to think so.” He took a small step closer to her. “What is it? Is it me?” 

Claire had really hoped she’d get over her doubts on her own before she ever had to talk to Jamie about them. And as she stared at the pain plain on his face, she wished she’d never said anything to Joe. “No, it’s just…I don’t know how to explain it.” In reality, she didn’t know how to articulate it to him. 

“I’d think ye’d be able to talk to me. We’ve been friends for ten years, Claire,” Jamie reminded her. 

“Yeah, that’s the problem!” she cried. 

Jamie recoiled, looking stunned. “What?” 

She shook her head, wishing she’d gone about this differently. “Yes, we have been friends for ten years which means that I have watched a number of your relationships from the sidelines. And all I could think about was how each of them ended so quickly. Then, I just...I couldn’t help but wonder when our expiration date would be.” 

“Wow,” Jamie breathed. He seemed a bit deflated. “What, ye seriously thought I’d just ditch ye? Call it quits? And then what, just walk away from ye?” 

“I don’t know,” she answered timidly. “I just couldn’t see how I was any different from any of them.” 

Jamie gaped at her. “Of course ye’re different!” 

“How?” 

“Because I love ye!” he yelled. He took a step back, running a hand down his face. Claire stared at him, shocked by his admission. He seemed almost as surprised. “Do ye really think I’d just leave? It’s you, Claire. Ye’re my best friend.” 

“Jamie, I -” 

“I spent the last couple of days trying to imagine what it was that was giving ye doubts. I didn’t realize I’d be answering for my past,” he said, looking anywhere but at her. “I mean, is that what ye really think of me?” 

She could feel tears stinging her eyes as she shook her head. 

“But it is though, isn’t it? I mean, ye believed me to be the type of man who would bring ye to a party solely to make another woman jealous. Ye thought I only wanted to bring ye breakfast the morning after our first date to — how did ye put it — rack up enough dates to reach a proper number to get in yer pants. And now this. Ye really think I’m just going to give up and leave after a certain amount of time?” Jamie stared at her, his hurt showing. “If that’s the man ye truly think I am, how have we even been friends all this time?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Those relationships were short because I could tell soon enough into them that they werena right for me. Would it no’ have been worse to string them along and lead them on?” 

Claire stood there silently, tears starting to fall. 

Jamie shook his head and took a step toward the door. “I should go.”

She jumped in front of the door before he could make it there. “No!” she said, standing her ground. “Look, Jamie, I’m sorry. I handled this the wrong way. I should have talked to you. But I just —” she took a deep breath “— I just got scared. Okay? After ten years we’re at this new phase of our relationship and it’s exciting. But I didn’t know how you really felt. And I’ve been sitting with these feelings a lot longer than you have.” 

Jamie let out a breath. “That’s no’ fair. Ye canna put that on me. Ye never told me how ye felt.” 

Claire scoffed. “Yeah, like it would have made any difference.” 

He shook his head, throwing his arms out. “Of course it would have! It would have made all the difference in the world!” He gaped at her. “Do ye really think I would have been wi’ any of them if I knew I could have been wi’ ye?” he asked, his voice dramatically lower. 

She had no response. They were on opposite sides of the room, with more than just space standing between them. Tears were falling down her face in earnest. They were glistening in his eyes as well. She hated the way she’d hurt him with her own avoidance. 

Eventually, it was as if he lost all energy. He collapsed on the couch, a sigh escaping him. “What can I do?” 

“What?”

He looked up at her. “What can I do to prove to ye that I’m no’ going anywhere?” 

Her heart broke at the vulnerable look on his face. He was terrified and she could see it. She shook her head vehemently. “Jamie, there’s nothing.” 

“So, ye’re telling me that ye’re having doubts about me but there’s no’ a thing I can do to fix it?” 

Claire bridged the gap between them, sitting down next to him on the couch. “Jamie, I mean there’s nothing you have to do. This is my issue.” 

“Tis no’ just yers, Claire,” he reminded her. “Ye stopped talking to me because of this. That’s no’ just yers anymore.” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe away her tears. “Believe me, I am.” 

He wasn’t looking at her. “Aye, I ken ye are.” They sat in a heavy silence for a long moment. His head turned slightly toward her, still not meeting her gaze. “I meant it though, what can I do?” 

“There’s nothing you have to do,” she repeated. He looked over, an almost angry expression on his face. “Being here — coming to see me because you missed me — that’s enough. I promise.” 

He nodded, looking down at his clasped hands. “How long have ye felt this way?” He finally glanced over at her, making eye contact. “It was before ye came here, wasn’t it?” 

Claire cleared her throat. “Just a bit. It got worse with separation.” 

“It was that night in my flat, wasn’t it?” he asked. 

She shook her head in disbelief. “How did you -”

“Ye panicked. Ye froze,” he recalled. “And then ye asked to take things slower. And trust me, I was more than fine wi’ that. I could tell something bothered ye, but ye wouldna say what it was. I was terrified that I did something to upset ye.” 

Claire bridged the final gap between them, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm. “Jamie, you did nothing. I got up in my head at the exact wrong time. I just knew that if...if we crossed that final line, and then you left, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” 

His hand moved to cover hers as he nodded. A long silence filled the room. Claire gripped his arm before she started to speak again. “I love you,” she whispered. He turned to her, a soft and vulnerable look on his face. “That’s why I got so scared. Because I love you. And I’ve felt this way for a long time, but this is only the first time I’ve actually said it out loud.” She laughed to herself. “Well, technically second, but you were unconscious the first time after your accident.” 

Claire took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for hurting you so much. It kills me. I guess I got used to talking about my feelings with Joe and keeping it all a secret from you.” Jamie chuckled before she reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. “But I promise you that I won’t do that again. I mean, I may talk to Joe, but no more secret feelings. I promise you that if I start to get nervous again, you’ll be the person I go to.” 

Jamie leaned his forehead against hers. “I would appreciate that. But just know, I’m no’ going anywhere.” His fingers tapped against her hand that still rested on his arm. “I love ye, too,” he whispered. He pulled back a bit to look her in the eye. “I’m sorry for yelling it at ye the first time I ever said it.” 

Claire laughed, despite all that had happened. She leaned closer, letting him close the distance between them. Much to her relief, he did so quickly, pressing his lips to hers. Her hands moved to wrap around his neck as she scooted closer to him. His hand held her cheek, keeping her there. Weeks of long distance woes and the fight they’d had weighed into the kiss, making both of them a bit desperate. He parted his lips, granting her access which she happily accepted. Her fingers wove through his hair. They moved closer and closer together til her legs were draped over his. 

She broke away from him with a look as she reached for the hem of her shirt. To her surprise, Jamie reached out to stop her. “Claire, no.” Before she could feel embarrassed, he continued. “No’ like this,” he whispered. “No’ because ye feel guilty.” 

“What if that’s not why?” she asked. “What if I’m just ready?” 

“I’m no’ ready right now,” he told her, flashing her pleading eyes. “I feel I’d always second guess it. Whether ye were actually ready or whether ye felt it was the best way to apologize for what happened. And that’s no’ how I want it to be for us.” 

She let go of her shirt, leaning back into him and giving him a quick kiss. “I suppose that makes a lot of sense. Damn you.” He grinned, kissing her again quickly. “So, what do you propose we do instead? Dinner?” 

He nodded thoughtfully. “That sounds good. Or perhaps — if ye wanted to, of course — ye could show me the bakery.” 

One of her hands came to rest on his cheek. “You really want to see it?” 

His hand held hers. “Of course I do.” 

She smiled broadly, giving him one last kiss. “Well then, let’s go.” 

Her hand held his the entire journey to the bakery site. He didn’t mind at all. It had been too long since he’d been afforded such a luxury. She chattered away about what to expect and what stage of development the store was in. Their pace slowed as they got closer to the store. Claire dug out her keys and let them into the dark building. 

She walked around and turned on the construction lamps that were scattered throughout the store. As more and more lights turned on, Jamie stood in awe of the store before him. Familiar colors greeted him as he turned to look around. “How does this look so much like the original shop?” 

Claire smiled, walking back over and tucking herself back into his side. “You caught that, did you?” 

“Would be hard not to.” 

She nodded thoughtfully, looking around. “Well, I found the original plans for the store and gave them to the people in charge here. They seemed to think it was doable. So, here we are. It’s still got a long way to go, but -” 

“It looks great,” Jamie said on a breath. “Truly.” 

Claire looked up at him. “You think so?” 

Jamie kissed her temple. “I really do. It’s like I’m standing back in Glasgow.” He laughed to himself. “Actually, it feels like it’s six years ago. Like ye’re showing me the shop for the first time.” 

She smiled to herself. “You were the only one I’d let see it.” 

“Well, that was surely just because of the money.” 

Claire shook her head, leaving a kiss at his jaw. “No, it wasn’t.” 

Jamie curled her in closer, kissing her head. “It looks great. All yer hard work has really been paying off.” 

“Thank you,” she sighed. “I mean the hardest part is really the training, so we’ll see.” 

“It’ll work. Ye’re too brilliant for it no’ to,” Jamie assured her. 

“You’re biased.” 

He laughed, turning to face her. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her hard on the mouth. “I’m no such thing.” 

She showed him around the bakery as much as they could with minimal lighting. Soon, they shut off all the lights and went to find a place to eat. Neither of them felt very picky so they found a place quickly. A couple of hours were spent enjoying drinks, dinner, and the other’s company. Jamie’s hand rarely left Claire’s. They sat as close to each other as their table allowed, both just glad to be together. 

It was a beautiful evening as they walked back to Claire’s hotel, his arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist. As they entered the lobby of the hotel, they immediately walked toward the elevator. Jamie stopped, turning back toward the desk. Claire gave him a confused look. “I need to check into my room.” 

Her brow furrowed. “You got a room?” 

Jamie took a step closer to her. “Well, I didna want to be presumptuous.” 

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “It wouldn’t be that presumptuous. You were coming to visit your girlfriend.” 

“Still.” 

Claire rolled her eyes with a grin. “You don’t need that room. Wait here.” She ignored him as he asked her what she was going to do. Claire walked up to the front desk and plastered on her best smile. “Hi,” she said, grabbing the woman’s attention. “I had a friend that was coming to visit me, but at the last minute it fell through. He asked if I could cancel his room for him.” 

“Of course, ma’am. What was the name?” 

“James Fraser.” 

The woman typed away at the computer before looking up to Claire with a smile. “All taken care of. Anything else I can help ye wi’?” 

“Not a thing. Thank you!” Claire replied, matching the woman’s smile. As Claire walked back to Jamie, her smile became more smug. “All taken care of,” she parroted. Jamie rolled his eyes at her as he draped his arm back around her. “Got a second room,” she muttered to herself, elbowing him in the side. “We’ve shared a room before.” 

“That was verra different, Sassenach,” Jamie defended. 

Claire curled into Jamie’s side, scoffing. “We’re two mature adults. I think we can share a bed.” 

Next chapter

[atrainernamedradish]

Top 10 Least Favorite Pokemon

You know what’s harder than making a top favorites list? A least favorite one. I was particular about this list because I wanted my own personal opinion on the matter instead of adding to the echo chamber that can be the fandom’s. I don’t hate these Pokemon. These are the ones I care for the least. Also, the placements kept changing for this list, but I feel like I finally put everyone on here in the right order now.

10) Whismur Line

The only reason this line is the Normal typing is because Game Freak hasn’t made the Sound typing official. Hell, Electric, or even Steel, would have made more sense. But nope we got these weird fleshy sound-based things that I’m never excited to see.

9) Greedent

I take back everything I said about Diggersby (still wished it didn’t have the belching model cry though), and I’m directing that towards Greedent. It looks like your typical fat, lazy, and not particularly bright cartoon character. Almost feel like they were a bit lazy in this design. Like… they could have done something more, or less since it’s large enough. I feel like Game Freak is trying to recreate a likeness to Snorlax, since it’s the poster child for obese Pokemon, but keeps falling short by giving us the ugliest designs. We don’t need more fat normal types. We’ve got plenty.

8) Electrode

Hey guys, let’s make this Pokeball based Pokemon flip upside down, make it less pissed off and call it an evolution! Also, it’s going to be crazy fast as well explode, most likely killing anything nearby, because why the fuck not? Boring and dangerous… what a match made in hell for a design!

7) Pheromosa

It’s an almost 7 foot tall sentient cockroach with legendary stats. Nope. Just nope. *flees*

6) Grimmsnarl Line

I have been disappointed with this evolutionary line since seeing the leaks of Impidimp. I know a lot of Faerie lore and it ticks me off that they chose a Goddamn Goblin for the first Dark/Fairy type. Also, and I know not all Faeries are cute and cuddly, but why does Game Freak keep trying to sneak in ugly Fairy types? About 95% of the Fairy typing has a cute or pleasing ascetic. That’s one of its themes, that and trying to throw pink on everything, so why give us this ugly line?

The only indicator of this thing remotely being Fairy typing at a glance is that it’s pink. I would have never gotten Fairy otherwise from it. Goblins might be in Faerie Tales, but they aren’t Faeries.

The only one in this line that remotely gives off the Dark typing to me is Morgrem. The other two not so much. Putting black on a Pokemon is maybe another indicator of the Dark typing, but even then it ain’t helping…?

Overall to me this thing is goofy to ugly looking with its design and typing a complete mess. It irritates me that our first combination of Fairy and Dark is this line…

Also, using it in a playthrough and it pisses me off that I’m not getting a Fairy move until it reaches its final evolution! That’s if I don’t want to grind up watt points in the Wild Area for a Fairy TR, or beat Opal before getting said evolution!

5) Shiinotic

Fairy typing makes sense for Morelull when you realize what it’s based on. Hell, even Ghost does. But Shiinotic? I don’t care if mushrooms are a big thing in Faerie Culture. You can’t just design some ugly ass alien mushroom hybrid then slap the Fairy typing on it because of mushrooms or lore from a pre evolution! While we’re at it let’s make the Amoongus and Breloom line Fairies too!

Morelull should have been a single stage line. It would have made sense. But no. They just wanted to make an ugly Fairy type just to prove they could say: “hey fandom I know you’re sick of all the cute and pink Fairy types so here’s an ugly one to change things up!”

And don’t get me *started* on that ugly ass shiny! Game Freak: bright yellow and muddy browns are a terrible color combination! Guess why?

4) Spinda

You know how I praised Alcremie for having multiple forms because of what it was and why it made sense for it? Well I have the opposite opinion regarding Spinda.

If I didn’t believe in the golden rule of everyone having a favorite of each Pokemon then I’d very much assume this thing wasn’t liked by anyone.

Everything about its design annoys me. Why is it a panda? And before anyone tries to tell me otherwise, it’s in its American/English name. Why is it in a constant state of vertigo? I literally was trying to think of a typing it would be better off as instead of the Normal typing and none come to mind. So it’s normal because a) it’s an animal or b) because they needed to give it a typing and no other typing fit.

And out of ALL the Pokemon why does this one have an almost endless possibility of “forms”? This thing has got to be a living dex collector’s worst nightmare!

3) Archeops

This Pokemon is on here for pure personal reasons. Technically there are a few other Pokemon that I feel the same towards, but this one was the worst about it.

You know you have a stupid powerful stat as a non-psuedo legendary and legendary when you need an ability to nerf you. What’s worse is when you need a pretty bulky Pokemon to soak up the damage you reap before said ability does nerf you.

It was always Goddamn terrifying to run into this Pokemon in White 2. Not only was a good chunk of my team weak to Flying, but my Samurott couldn’t take more than one hit from it. Not to mention it didn’t do enough super effective damage to OHKO this thing. So I was never happy to run into this thing because I would only get out of the fight with a lot of collateral damage to my party!

This wasn’t the only Pokemon that was this fucking difficult to deal with in Unova. There is definitely a power imbalance in these games which made playing them a pain in the ass. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE Black 2 & White 2, but fuck me if this wasn’t my biggest issues with those games…

(Some of y'all are probably wondering about Slaking, and Slaking is actually easier to deal with thanks to its typing and ability readily triggering.)

2) Pelipper

This Pokemon was originally going to be my least favorite Water type on my favorite and least favorite typings lists, but I think its placement on this list suits it better.

I honestly don’t mind its pre-evolution Wingull. Wingull is kinda cute. Wonder Trade had me groaning every time I saw one, but that was more the player’s fault than anything.

Pelipper is just such a poorly designed Pokemon. Like, what were they thinking when they essentially fused the beak and stomach together? How can this thing carry its front heavy, well front? I assume it can handle all of that weight being airborne since I doubt it can get around any other way with its stubby little feet.

Then they gave it the Drizzle ability and suddenly people give a shit about its ugly ass…

The only time I’ve “willingly” used one was in my Wonderlocke, which was only due to the fact that I was in dire need of a water type, and I'll tell you that right now that I didn’t want to resort to using it. I’m pretty sure it died at the very end in the Champion battle… wasn’t all that sad to lose it if I’m being honest.

This isn’t just reserved for this Pokemon, but I absolutely hate the dual typing of Water/Flying. Nothing says “throw a rock at me” more than this typing combination. 

Overall I just don’t like anything about this Pokemon.

1) Greninja

This Pokemon used to be a lot lower on this list, but as I mentioned right before the list that the order changed as I was making it. I can promise you that this Pokemon isn’t on here because of how popular it is (there are others that would be on here if that was the case). There are many other reasons I will go over as to why this one is on the list.

The first is my experience using a basic one in XY. It’s learn set of moves is terrible, and that’s because it learns a lot of physical moves despite having a much better Special Attack. When I thought about the aspects of a ninja’s special attack being higher than physical it made much more sense. It had little to no options for Dark type moves with one of the best moves for it not being available till you’ve gotten the 8th badge for Waterfall. Greninja was the weakest member of my team with my Aromatisse putting in much more work than it! If Greninja is not competitively trained as well as has any of its hidden abilities then it’s not really that useful. I kept the one from that playthrough because I don’t have the heart to release it or get rid of it…

The second is its design. I very much don’t care for it (its tongue scarf is gross!). Its middle evolution looks so much better to me, and it made me sad evolving it into this ugly thing…

The third is its typing. I’ve had some time to think about it and I’ve wondered to myself: why is Greninja a Dark type? Thinking of the history, and to some extent the mythology of ninjas, nothing screams Dark type to me. I’m also taking into account of Dark being Evil in Japan, and nothing about ninja inherently screams Evil or Dark typing. Then I found myself thinking about its other typing in Water which brought me to the conclusion that the only reason Greninja is a Water type is for two reasons: 1) It’s a starter and 2) it’s a frog.

So you’re probably thinking by this point: “well Radish if you don’t like its typings then what would you change them to?” Unfortunately, I’d keep Water since it’s not the only Pokemon to have a typing based on the animal it is (looking at you Poliwag line!). Dark typing would be replaced with Ghost since ninjas in their lore and mythology can traverse and interact with the spiritual world.

I will address the elephant in the room for my closing thoughts on this Pokemon: Greninja and the fandom. I wholeheartedly believe that if Greninja didn’t have the hidden abilities that it did that it wouldn’t be as favored as it is among the fanbase. As someone who used a basic ability one in hopes of giving it a chance I was greatly disappointed, and didn’t understand why this Pokemon was so popular. That’s why I feel as though the competitive scene is where it has gotten all of its fame from. People give Charizard so much shit for being overrated but do they for Greninja? (Not a big fan of Charizard for those who wanna accuse me as such.)

[artseanauti]

6 Amazing Restaurants to try in Bar Harbor

Mama Dimatteo’s (Italian)

This is one of my all-time favorite places to eat in Bar Harbor. It’s centrally located with only a minute walk from the Village Green and parking. They have indoor and outdoor seating with ambient lighting, plenty of social distance, and very attentive staff. My husband and I actually just ate at Mama’s on the 4th of July. Here’s what we ordered and enjoyed tf out of:

Caesar Salad with the best dressing, homemade croutons, and shaved parmesan. I actually remember telling my husband that it was the best salad I’d had in months.

Baked Cheese with mozzarella cheese wrapped in a light and flaky pastry puff and served with marinara. The marinara is to die for. My husband and I actually ate it with a spoon after we demolished the baked cheese puff.

Garlic Nuggets baked to perfection and slathered in garlic, butter, herbs, and parmesan cheese. The portion is small, but it makes you want to savor each bite because sometimes it’s about quality over quantity. We will definitely order them again.

Chicken Saltimbocca is prosciutto-wrapped chicken served with linguine and mushroom marsala. My husband killed his dinner, so I didn’t even need to ask him if he enjoyed it. This entrée was a generous portion and the marsala looked sinfully palatable.

Chicken Parmesan hardly needs an introduction. I tend to be a plain Jane sometimes when I’m not feeling adventurous with food. I was devastated that they were out of alfredo when we went, but considering they sat us less than hour from the time they were scheduled to close on a busy holiday, I’m absolutely not complaining. The early bird gets the alfredo. Duly noted.

Can’t forget the cocktails! My husband ordered a blueberry mojito and I ordered my signature drink, a Moscow mule. They were mixed perfectly!

2. Rosalie’s Pizza

Okay, I realize the out of control Italian in me is showing, but I’m taking you from the best Italian restaurant around to a NY style pizzeria right smack dab downtown on Cottage Street. Rosalie’s has been a Summer staple of mine since we moved to MDI in 2002, and all of these years later I still make it a point to go at least a few times per season. Something about family-owned pizzerias who’ve perfected their recipe over the span of decades just sells me. Any true pizza snob knows it’s all about the quality of the sauce and cheese and the appropriate ratio of sauce to cheese. The crust is thin and crispy, but not too thin or too crispy. Keep in mind that Rosalie’s is like Chick-fil-A level popular in Bar Harbor, so don’t wait until your stomach goes into survival mode and starts eating itself to get in line. We usually call ahead to order and either find a place to eat on one of the two floors of seating or we do take out. The upper level of seating has a great view of Cottage Street by the way, so I tend to always make my way upstairs to eat in non-pandemic world. If you choose to dine in, the staff will call your name and bring your food right to your table. Don’t forget to leave them a tip in their tip jar if you enjoy your food and experience as much as I always do.

3. Side Street Café

Side Street used to have the BEST build your own mac & cheese, and I was obsessed. I haven’t made it there in a couple of years now, but I was once a frequenter just for that dish. It was a-maz-ing! I actually just confirmed on their website and they still have it on the menu. Yay! Some other notable mentions about this restaurant is their covered high-top tables on their outdoor patio and they have a super convenient wait list right on their website that you can get on without having to call, and you can see the approximate wait time to decide if the timing fits into your plans. The patio is a great place to just relax, enjoy your beverage, and do a little people-watching. It’s centrally located and directly near public parking. If you’re like me, gravitate toward that outdoor patio, enjoy the infamously fresh Maine air, devour some mac & cheese, and pre-game or post-game a walk around downtown. Keep in mind that Side Street does high volume business, so it would behoove you to utilize their online wait list feature.

4. Jalapeno’s (Mexican)

I’m not going to lie, I go for the salsa and sangria. Their salsa is so good with its big chunks of tomatoes, fresh cilantro flavor, a hint of sweetness, and a fair amount of kick. When I say I go for the salsa and sangria, that’s because I never save enough room to make it through my meal. I don’t know about you, but I’m usually good for a couple rounds of salsa. Jalapeno’s checks all of my Mexican food boxes. Good chips and salsa, check. Good sangria, check. Good queso, check. The rest is just background noise.

As someone who spent 13 years of my childhood in the Heartland of Texas, I know good authentic Mexican cuisine. Admittedly, there are not many places in Maine to get authentic Mexican food or even Tex Mex. Jalapeno’s is my go-to when I have a hankering for all of my South of the Border fixes. The portions are super generous and I always get multiple meals out of it. They also have a nice patio that overlooks Main Street, the long drag through downtown Bar Harbor with tons of shops and restaurants. It’s a minute walk from the village green and a less than five minute walk from two public parking lots. There is also street parking closer-by.

5. Fish House Grill

I was actually good friends with the owner’s niece in grade school, just a random factoid. He sold the business to someone else who kept it pretty true to it’s original form, which I appreciate. Fish House Grill has an amazing view of the harbor, pier, and marina. This has always been one of my favorite places to go for lighter fare and drinks as I’m not a seafood-eater. I personally recommend the caprese sandwich.

Despite its seafood-sounding name, the Fish House Grill has something for everyone. It’s a laid back and relaxed atmosphere, and the service is efficient and attentive. It’s important to mention that the restaurant is located on the bottom level of a commercial building, so if you look for and follow the signage, it is easy to find. Once you make it down the little flight of stairs, the hostess station is immediately on your right. I have actually never experienced a wait time and they’ve always been super accommodating of my outdoor seating requests. If you’re planning on catching one of the whale watch or boat tours in Bar Harbor, the Fish House Grill is literally right next door to where you board and disembark, so it’s super convenient to grab some lunch or dinner before or after your tour.

6. Siam Orchid (Thai)

I’ve actually only been to Siam Orchid one time when my husband and I were dating, but I enjoyed our meal, our window seat, and the friendly service. They have both indoor and outdoor seating available. It feels super exclusive and it’s affordable ethnic cuisine. I remember the food being beautifully plated and well-cooked. It’s on our hit list for this summer to go back for more. Typically with Asian cuisines I’m a creature of habit and tend to order the same things everywhere and every time we go, but I remember their eloquently worded food descriptions enticed me to try something new. Highly recommend it! I can’t wait to go back soon. My mouth is watering just thinking about it…

[tkjunkdrawer]

Was thinking about Juxcubae again. Sometime ago I mentioned something about prostitution being legal in the world of Litch Slush because of the existence of Juxcubae. So, how's it handled?

Basically, there's small hotels that cater specifically to this, known [PUNNILY] as JuxtaPositions. Juxcubae can show up and hang around whenever they need a meal or some money, and take whichever clients request them. There's photos of all the Juxcubae on the premises at the front desk, so clients can take their pick. A receptionist alerts the Juxcubae when they've been requested and sends the client on up to the corresponding room. As ridiculous as it sounds, people can also make appointments to bone with particular Juxcubae, if they want; it's all done through the company. Business is business.

None of the Juxcubae's personal information is available to the general public, and they all go by fake names [Azhrune, for example, goes by "Midnight," which is absolutely cheesy] while at work. They also get to set their own rates, as well as choosing what they are and aren't willing to do. They're well within their right to reject clients, or stop mid-session if they feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

The Juxcubae who work at these places are actually really well-protected. Violence against sex workers is a thing in any reality, sad as that is, but the Juxta buildings are really safe. The rooms all have magic that detects things like fear, distress, panic, and anxiety [things that wouldn't come up in a safe or consensual scenario], and the spell will immediately immobilize whoever is causing said distress, basically freezing their body up like a statue against whatever wall is immediately opposite them, to give the victim room. Said spell then alerts the building's security guards, and they come and handle things as needed.

And of course, there's plenty of, er, "equipment" available. You want it, they've got it on site somewhere. Everything is sanitized after use [and the people who do it do get fairly compensated for having to scrub up other people's bodily fluids], because that shit is important. Anything deemed questionable or potentially unsafe to use further is trashed and replaced. Juxcubae are welcome to bring their own stuff, but the JuxtaPosition provides pretty much anything you'd want or need for whatever filth you're engaging in today.

Up until now, I've only mentioned Juxcubae working at these places, though. Truth is, there's definitely humans who work there, too. Everyone's got their reasons for ending up there, but they're not really treated any differently by than the Juxcubae by the company itself. They're afforded all the same perks and protection than their inhuman coworkers get. No judgement, no questions asked, as long as you follow the rules, you're welcome to earn a living here. While the initial description of these places may sound a bit seedy, they're actually surprisingly positive environments. The Juxcubae understand better than anyone that sometimes, this is the only way you can live.

As for the clientele, there's a good mix of humans and demons that come looking for a good time. Some humans are interested in the novelty of demons and vice-versa. Not always the case, of course, but nobody's judging if it is. Though a Juxcubae will generally have to get it on with a few humans before they're feeling rejuvenated. I have mentioned before than the energy in human souls isn't as "hearty" as demons. Lack of magic.

Besides that, JuxtaPositions are generally well-kept, especially the ones located in bigger cities. The place Azhrune takes his calls at genuinely looks like an upscale hotel both outside and inside, and can easily be mistaken as such until you get to the desk and see the book of photos and the panel of colored lights that indicates which rooms are in use and which are empty; White for vacant, blue for occupied but not working, red for active session, do not disturb. Juxcubae are welcome to lounge in the [very nice and comfortable] rooms while waiting for requests, or they can hang around the lobby if they want. They also get to decide however many clients they want to take or how long they want to be there that day. It's pretty chill considering the debauchery going on in the rooms. Being that Juxcubae have to fuck to live, demons as a whole don't have the same weird stigmas surrounding sex that humans do. This is just another job, and it's not uncommon to see Jux and humans sitting in the lobby reading, chatting, playing g on their phones, and generally just relaxing in their downtime, only to get up and immediately switch into "customer service" mode when somebody wants them. Though, uh, customer service here is obviously different from, like, retail or something.

Demons actually brought the whole system over from their side of the portal, where it was established an astoundingly long time ago and then refined over the centuries to what it is today. I think I talked about that once briefly; basically, since Juxcubae need sex to survive, there had to be an allowance for it. Because "just go engage in your disgusting customs on your side of the portal" went over REALLY POORLY, and the idiot politician who said it was buried in backlash. Those "disgusting customs" are literally what keeps the Juxcubae alive, and now they're here and they need to survive. Telling such a large group to suck it up and die or GTFO so openly was met with outrage not just from a state, or even a country, but an entire dimension of living, intelligent beings whose size and population is on par with that of our own.

If that's how the Juxcubae were going to be treated, then who was next? Dumping waste into the rivers of the water nymphs and telling them to fuck off and go back where they came from if they don't like it? Telling the werewolves that our vets and hospitals will no longer tend to them, too bad if they're fatally injured, they gotta go through the portal to be treated? How far is this kind of discrimination going to go?

"Fuck that," said the demons. "We're taking our ball and going home."

In a unified movement that humanity had never seen the likes of before, every demon and magical being disappeared from our world back to theirs, taking the magic with them.

It didn't last long. Everyone had become so accustomed to living alongside demons and their magic that our world couldn't function normally, because that's how it had developed. There were the little things that were missed: Spell capsules that eased anxiety and soothed pain much more effectively than any pharmaceuticals, condensed spells to banish dust and grime in an instant, herbs from Arcanae that tasted like nothing in our our world that has quickly become staples of many cuisines across the world. Then the biggest issue: Magic and science were two sides of the same coin, so intertwined at this point that it was unfathomable to move forward without magic. It was possible, sure, but there was so much more that we could do with both things together.

Humanity apologized for this catastrophic fuck-up and asked to make amends. Demonkind was like "let the Juxcubae do what they need to do to survive," humanity agreed, and everyone came back. Things clicked back into place like nothing that changed in the first place--except for these new buildings popping up.

And from there, lettings the humans also take part in it legally wasn't too much of a stretch, especially since the demons made it legal for humans on their side of the portal, and if they're doing it, how poorly does it reflect on humanity to not let their own people do it at home? Now they're going over there to do this stuff--and it's safer than walking the streets? Fuck it, we might as well just go with it.

That's the very abridged version of the whole thing. This is the kind of thing they do an entire unit on in history class because the impact was huge. They called it The Great Arcane Absence. While the Arcane Absence itself really only lasted about a week, the tension and arguments leading up to it stretched back a ways; legal prostitution Earthside was something Juxcubae were pushing for for a long time, until things finally boiled over. Which is why the reaction was so extreme.

So, yeah. JuxtaPositions.

[sockablock]

• (start) (prev) (next) •

Chapter 8: The Long, Looping Scrawl

TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO Today 9:08AM

Lavender Thunder: soooooooo good news and bad news Lavender Thunder: the GOOD news is that gustav isn’t arrested and the cops have cooled off and nobody else is dead Seaman: that is pretty good news Lavender Thunder: yeah well Lavender Thunder: the bad news is that kylre isn’t going to be around anymore Lavender Thunder: and that I think we might need to find some new jobs Lavender Thunder: the Moondrop is gonna be out of commission for like Lavender Thunder: kind of a while

•

Jester, from where she stood next to the couch with her hands over Fjord’s ribs, watched Molly make his way through the front door and into the living room. “What does ‘a while’ mean?” she asked as he approached. “Like…how long is that, exactly?”

Molly collapsed onto the sofa opposite them and shrugged. “My best guess? Probably over half a year,” he said glumly. “It’s mostly to raise funding. Gustav says that he’s got to pay off a heavy fine to the city for all the endangerment his ‘employee’ caused before he’s even allowed to start rebuilding, and then there’s the cost of repairs and the cost of new furniture and the cost of new equipment. Not to mention how long it’ll take to actually fix everything. You should keep an eye out too, Fjord,” he added with a nod to the half-orc, “word on the street is that Fletch will also be closed in the meantime. Gustav or Desmond will probably send out some kind of notice later on today.”

Fjord sighed. “Yeah, I figured something like that might happen.”

“What are you going to do in the meantime, then?” Jester asked. “And what’s everybody else doing?”

“I’m not sure about myself yet,” Molly shrugged. “I know Gustav and Desmond are going to stick around and oversee reconstruction. Everyone else is taking time off to travel and visit family. The Sisters are going back to Felderwin for a bit, and Bosun says he’s going to go backpacking through the countryside. Yasha also took off to do…whatever it is she always does. And Ornna’s taking care of Toya now, though I’m not entirely sure what that entails.”

“I take it that Kylre’s out of the picture, then?” Fjord asked.

“Yeah, what exactly happened to him, anyways?” Jester asked. “You need should be less vague over text.”

Molly’s expression immediately went dark. “It’s…not great, dear. Kylre…well, after the authorities determined that he was a fiend, they elected to…to…”

Fjord sat up as best as he could. “What, Molly? What did they do?”

Molly’s shoulders sagged. “They took him to the Zauber Spire,” he said. “They’re banishing him to the Nine Hells.”

“What?!” Jester shouted. “What do you mean, banishing?”

“I mean that they’re going to send him there for good,” Molly mumbled. “According to what Gustav told us, the police decided that because he’s a fiend, he should be sent back to where ‘his kind’ reside. Whatever the fuck that means.”

Fjord reached out a hand as if to comfort him, and then thought better of it.

“Fuck, Mol,” he said instead. “I’m…I’m sorry."

Mollymauk shrugged listlessly. “It’s no fault of yours,” he said. “It was just…shitty. Complete horseshite.”

They sat there in silence for a few more moments. The distant sound of cars honking drifted up from the streets and through the window.

“Well…” Jester tried eventually, “…at least everybody else is okay?”

Molly snorted. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, at least there’s that. I guess…I don’t know, I guess in a weird way, life will go on. Just without one of the troupe now, and with a lot of dumb financial problems.”

“Fuck…yeah,” Fjord sighed. “This means I gotta find a new place to work. For the time being, anyhow.”

Jester’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit!” she said. “Does that…does that still mean we can move in? Or are we going to have to wait a bit, now? I mean,” she added hastily, “it’s okay if we do, totally cool—”

Fjord reached for her hand, and she relaxed.

“It’ll be fine,” he said gently. “As soon as my damn ribs get better, I’ll ask around and see what’s available. Maybe there’ll be something I can pick up at the Leaky Tap, or somethin’, and we can go from there. But…Molly, will you be alright?”

Molly hesitated. He thought for a moment about his bank account, and then considered how tired he was.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Maybe?”

Jester, despite the mood, giggled. “That doesn’t sound very responsible of you,” she said.

He gave her a half-smile. “We managed to negotiate the rent down for this year, and I’ve got plenty saved up. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually spend that much money.”

“It’s true,” Fjord agreed. “He eats at the Moondrop all the time and gets people to buy him stuff that he sells.”

Molly grinned. “I’m a financial wizard,” he nodded. Then he paused, and added, “but maybe I should look into finding a roommate. If you two decide to go ahead with the apartment plan, that is.”

“We’ll see,” they both said at the same time.

“Alright, you two, alright,” Molly laughed. “Keep me posted. I’m gonna need time if I’m gonna scout someone out that snores less than Fjord. Honestly, I don’t envy you, Jester.”

She started giggling again. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll make Caleb find me a silence spell that I can cast on him every night.”

“Hey!” Fjord protested, and then winced. He settled for sinking back down onto the cushions and pouting. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“It’s really bad,” said Molly. “It’s literally the loudest sound in the entire world.”

•

“That can’t be enough,” Nott commented as she peered over Caleb’s shoulder. “Look at how much water there is! That little cup is nothing.”

“It’s the right amount,” Caleb sighed and turned around to face her. “Believe me, I have done this hundreds of times before.”

“How come?” she asked. “Did you go camping a lot as a kid?”

They were both kneeling in the bathroom, positioned on the tiled floor next to the edge of a very full bathtub. Caleb had begrudgingly dipped into the month’s budgeted water usage, telling himself that he’d take less showers, and after heating the bath with a few magic spells, they were both currently blanketed by a thick layer of steam.

That smelled, rather strongly, of vinegar.

“Not exactly campfires,” Caleb said lightly, “but I suppose that works. Anyways, this is the best way to remove ashy smells from our clothing. I feel terrible, ruining them like this in battle. Especially since your dress was brand new, Nott.”

The little goblin shrugged. “It’s fine,” she said, “I don’t really think they’re ruined.”

“I am sure that you do not, though others may have differing opinions.”

“They always do,” she said solemnly. “I always ignore them.”

They finished hanging up their fancy attire on the neck of the showerhead, then left the bathroom and shut the door tightly behind them. Caleb moved towards his bed, flopped down and buried his face into the pillow. He felt a light weight sink into the mattress near the space by his foot, and he shifted slightly to give Nott more room.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Bitte. Gods, I am exhausted.”

“Me too,” she said. “I don’t even feel like doing anything today.”

“What a night that was, eh?” he asked, muffled but with a mild chuckle. “Certainly more than what I was expecting.”

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted a giant toad monster would turn a guy into a zombie and then fight us in an abandoned warehouse,” said Nott.

There was a beat of silence.

“Ja okay,” he said. “Point taken.”

There was a longer silence after that, in which Nott sprawled upside-down off the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. Caleb shoved his face further into the pillow, and tried to think of a happy place. Or at least, a sleep-inducing one.

Then:

“Those were some pretty good pancakes, though.”

Caleb turned his head. “What?” he asked.

“Those pancakes,” Nott repeated. “That Molly made us. Those were really good.”

He blinked. “Er…yes,” he agreed hesitantly. “They were rather nice, yes.”

“And it was really nice of him to let us use his bathroom,” she said. “And it was nice that he gave us clothes, and blankets, and made us tea. Even if it was creepy tea.”

Caleb nodded slowly. “Yes?” he said. “That is…true. Er…is there something you have to say about all that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “There is. Last night was just…really nice. I liked it.”

“Despite the death and monster and fighting?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She nodded. “Yeah. To be honest, I don’t think that stuff really matter too much.”

“Was? Why is that?”

Nott smiled. “Because we have friends now,” she said. “A lot of them.”

Caleb rolled over onto his back and stared up at the chipped ceiling. He considered this.

“Ja…I suppose we do.”

Nott’s smile widened. “I like them,” she said. “It was fun before, with just the girls, but after everything we all went through together, it sort of feels like…I guess it sort of feels like this whole group is a family.”

Caleb felt something flicker in his chest. He tamped it down immediately.

“I see,” he said eventually.

Nott giggled. “It’s okay if you don’t want to agree with me. I know the truth, anyhow.”

“Do you? What is that?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.

Nott closed her eyes again. “You like them too,” she said.

For a long, long while, Caleb thought of something to say.

And then, when nothing came, he closed his eyes as well and eventually fell back asleep.

•

“Beauregard!” Jester shouted, bursting into their apartment, “are you awake?! I am home! And ready to…”

She trailed off and looked around the empty kitchen. The lights were off, and the windows drawn shut, leaving only thin trails of light creeping in around the curtains. She dropped her purse, and the plastic bag that held her dress onto the floor, and took a few steps forward.

“Beau?” she called, quieter this time. “…Beau…? Are you there?”

Almost immediately, something began to stir at the back of her mind. Something heavy, and unbidden, and unnerving, and old. She felt her hand unconsciously reach into her pocket, and clutch a small metal object on a thick leather cord. She traced her fingers along its smooth surface, and relaxed slightly as a familiar warmth washed over her.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax further, and had just recovered her signature cheery smile when her eyes caught a single piece of paper lying on the kitchen table.

She ran towards it quicker than she probably would have liked. She immediately began to read the long, looping scrawl across its surface.

Jes—

I went to take care of some shit. I’ll be back tonight, but I’m not sure if I’ll be ready to talk to you about it ‘til later. I trust you more than any of these other assholes we call friends, so please don’t be upset if I don’t say shit when I return, alright? And please, please don’t ask any questions. I promise that the second I’m ready, I’ll tell you everything.

See you later,

Drunkmonk

She stared at the frustratingly short letter for a few more seconds. She flipped it around, saw nothing, then flipped it back over.

“Beau will be back tonight,” she whispered. She took another deep breath, and nodded. She carefully folded the page and slid it into her pocket.

“Did you hear that, Traveler?” she asked the air in front of her. “Beau is fine! She’s just running errands. And, and she said that she trusts me! Isn’t that cool?”

Jester was still, and silent for a moment. Her ears twitched as if listening to a far-off song.

“I agree,” she said eventually. “Also, thanks for helping out earlier with Fjord! I’m really glad he’s okay. And I’m really glad you were there for us.”

Another pause. Another strange, silent hum.

And then she laughed and nodded brightly. “That’s a great idea! Come on, I think I remember where I put it. We were on chapter nine, right?”

And then she skipped into her bedroom, leaving the door wide open behind her.

•

TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO Today 6:19PM

Seaman: good news yall! Seaman: Wessick says that the Tap’s looking for an evening bartender, and he says ive got the job! Seaman: which ALSO means yall get a friends and family discount for karaoke Seaman: probably Lavender Thunder: HECK YEAH Lavender Thunder: THAT’S AWESOME FJORD Lavender Thunder: why didnt you tell me that to my face though we live in the same house Seaman: i wanted to spread the happy news all at once Molly Seaman: also I still cant move and you went into your bedroom Seaman: sue me (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: that’s AWESOME (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: FJORD IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU Seaman: thank you Jester NottSoBrave: fjord you need to respond more energetically than that NottSoBrave: you shouldnt leave a lady wanting NottSoBrave: otherwise someone could snatch her up Lavender Thunder: oh and what do you know about women? NottSoBrave: i happen to BE a WOMEN NottSoBrave: woman NottSoBrave: whatever NottSoBrave: oh also Caleb says congratulations Seaman: thank you Caleb Seaman: and thanks for the relationship advice, i think? Seaman: don’t mention it Seaman: hey beau and yasha, what’re you going to do? (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: beaus busy right now (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: but im sure she’ll answer later! Lavender Thunder: ditto for yasha Lavender Thunder: that’s just how she do NottSoBrave: how mysterious NottSoBrave: why are they gone? NottSoBrave: is yasha a spy? is Beau a spy Lavender Thunder: yes Lavender Thunder: theyre spies

Nott looked up from her phone screen, stared at Frumpkin dead in his clear blue eyes.

“Hear that?” she said. “I knew it.”

“Spatz!” Caleb called from the kitchen. “Come on, your noodles are getting cold!”

“Coming!” she yelled back. She gave Frumpkin one last solemn nod, then tossed her cell onto the covers and scuttled out of the bedroom.

•

Beau arrived home that night well after sunset. She shut the front door behind her as quietly as she could, but frowned and looked around suspiciously when she noticed that all the lights were still on. Then she saw the living room couch, and her gaze softened.

Jester was laid out on the cushions, fully dressed and fast asleep. There was a tray on the coffee table in front of her, piled high with pastries and sporting a now-chilly cup of hot chocolate. A note next to the tray read:

For Beau!

She sighed. “You little weirdo,” she said, “you didn’t have to wait for me.”

She slid her backpack onto the carpet and carefully lifted Jester into her arms, bridal-style. She made it all the way to Jester’s extravagant canopy bed, and was almost done tucking her in, when she stirred awake.

Jester’s eyes slowly peeked open. Her irises glowed in the darkness.

“Beau?” she mumbled. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, Jes,” she said. “I’m back.”

Jester’s brow furrowed slightly. “You…your face is messed up.”

Beau reached up, felt the tender skin around her bruised eye and split lip. She shrugged and gave Jester a faint smile. “It’s nothing,” she said. “I fell.”

“That’s a lie,” Jester murmured, and closed her eyes. “But it’s okay. You said you trust me, and I trust you too. You can tell me whenever you’re ready.”

Beau was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. “…thanks, Jes,” she said eventually.

“I’m glad you’re home,” came the sleepy response. “I’m glad you came back to me.”

Beau scoffed. “Of course I did,” she said. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

There was no answer. After a moment, Beau pulled the blankets up to Jester’s shoulder, turned around, and went back to her room.

•

And then, after that, life more-or-less returned to whatever semblance of normalcy it had once held, for most of them.

For most of them.

•

TUSK LOVE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO Today 10:22AM

Lavender Thunder: guysssss Lavender Thunder: whos around??!!?? Lavender Thunder: im bored out of my goddamn mind Lavender Thunder: and yashas still gone (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: ughhhh sorry mollyyyy I have class now (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: and Fjord too right now Lavender Thunder: ah its arlight dear Lavender Thunder: anybody else? Drunkmonk: i hate you, so no Drunkmonk: but actually im also doing stuff right now Lavender Thunder: fuck off Lavender Thunder: nott and Caleb? NottSoBrave: calebs working at the library toady NottSoBrave: and I don’t want to hang out with you Lavender Thunder: wow alright then (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: Nott!! Apologize to Molly!! NottSoBrave: sorry Lavender Thunder: gee thanks Lavender Thunder: anyways have fun doing your stuff yall Lavender Thunder: i guess ill ,, read a book or something

Molly lowered his phone.

He was seated on his bed, wrapped up in his silk pajamas, staring out the window at the bright and bustling city landscape beyond.

This was a strange feeling. Here he was warm, and comfortable, and the sunlight gently caressed his skin with its soothing morning rays.

But today he should have been at the Moondrop. Today he should have been in the dark backstage performer’s lounge, helping the sisters with their makeup, or watching Desmond tune his instruments, or failing to stack crates as high as Yasha could, or riffing with Bo or giving Toya piggy-back-rides or pestering Ornna or chatting lazily with Kylre or learning about sound equipment from Gustav or even bemoaning the lack of proper lighting above his dresser mirror as he tried to apply his favorite glittering eyeshadow before the afternoon shows began.

Instead, he was here.

For the first time in his entire, extraordinarily short life, Mollymauk Tealeaf felt alone.

And he realized now, with rising dread, that he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

• • •

hey guys! Just letting you know, I’m going on a short hiatus now that Arc 1 is complete! Updates will definitely be coming, as I take time to sort out my other WIPs and adjust to college and the UK. Thank you so much for reading!!!

💚 ☕ ☕ 💚

[paragon-yoshi]

Improvement-Ideas for Splatoon 2 (Opinion Alert!!!)

This game is amazing, just like the first. And it definitely deserves all the praise and love it gets. However, I still believe this game has plenty of problems, that could be improved on. Because as fun as it can be, it can just as well be frustrating and morale crushing... Depending on what people you end up playing with and against... So first up, here is my list of problems I have with the game.

Problems with Regular Mode (Turf War)

Since Turf Wars is described as a casual mode, that anyone can pick up and play, it should also be the easiest to get into. And in a way it is, with an objective that is very easy to grasp. Just paint as much as you can and you win... But unfortunately, it's not as simple as that...

- Turf Wars IMO is the hardest mode of them all! That may sound surprising, but in my experience, I had by far the hardest time with Turf Wars. While I had a much easier and fairer time with Ranked. Why is that? Well the biggest reason is that Ranked Modes focus on one of two areas on the map (Clam Blitz kinda being an exception, with clams being scattered everywhere). But Turf Wars in universal: The entire map is the objective, rather than a few select parts of it. You have to stay vigilant at all times, since the opposition can be literally anywhere. With Ranked you can make a pretty good guess where the opposition is headed. But not in Turf Wars... Secondly, the tides can turn at the last minute, even if your team was ahead the entire time. (And most of the time, that's exactly what happens, at least in my experience) And thirdly, kills are effective. Perhaps even too effective. Giving players with superior skills an undeniable edge over beginners and other not quite as skilled players... And that's why a lot of people go for kills and try to completely lock the other team down. Which is incredibly infuriating when you're at the receiving end of it. And the maps don't really offer much in terms of sneaking around. Which sucks... So if you're up against godlike players and they completely lock you down, you might as well throw the game... It's not fun, believe me... - Matchmaking is random What Nintendo (and a whole lot of other people) sees as a good thing, ends up being a dealbreaker for me and many other people... And it's easily my biggest gripe with this mode. What players you're matched with and against, is all just a roll of the dice. Aka completely luck-based. And as such, winning or even your team just doing well enough, become mostly luck-based as well. And if you're having real bad luck (like yours truly), you lose most of the time and question your life choices... Either because the matchmaking decided to match you with teammates that are far less skilled than you or you are straight thrown into arctic water, by matching you against players that are so far above your skill level, that you stand no chance against... Sometimes even the two combined... It's really aggravating, when the dice roll results are so unbalanced. - Turf Wars is a little too winning-oriented I still remember the days of early Splatoon 1, where you simply had to get as many Turf Points as possible, to do well. Losing didn't matter, since winning only net you 300 extra points back then. The bulk of the points (and thus your money and EXP) came from your Turf Score. And I believe this is how Turf Wars worked best and it truly was a casual mode, where losing really didn't matter all that much. Unfortunately, with the update that added the New Level Up System post level 20 and now with the adoption of the same system in Splatoon 2, that is a thing of the past. You only need to reach 500 Turf Points to get the most points possible from the Turf Score. And you get the most EXP points for winning. And I believe that is why Turf Wars became so frustrating to play. After that update, you could see nothing but E-Liters in Splatoon 1 Turf Wars. And since E-liters were completely broken in that game, Turf Wars became impossible to play and enjoy, if you used any other weapon than that. And even in Splatoon 2, people became really aggressive and focus mostly on kills and base invading. Since that wins the game. And I am pretty sure, if Nintendo wouldn't have changed the Level Up System like that and stuck with the original all the way, people wouldn't be so tryhard in that mode.

Problems with Splatfest

- Toxicity I made a whole Tumblr-Post about it once. Link: https://paragon-yoshi.tumblr.com/post/175961272304/toxicity-in-splatfest-revised But to summarize: I believe Marina and Pearl act way too toxic during Splatfests (at least in the localization, since in the original japanese version they apparently don't act nearly as obnoxious). And it mirrors the toxicity coming from the players, as far as I have seen. Not to mention it makes the Splatfest a much more serious deal, than it needs to be... - Same problems as normal Turf Wars All the same problems from normal Turf Wars can be found here. You may think matchmaking would be the only exception, with the "Splatfest Power" system. Though even with it, it seemed just as random, which is a shame... Because the concept of Splatfest Power definitely goes into the right direction.

Problems with Salmon Run

- Not available at all times.< Okay, this is something nearly everyone complains about. So enough said here... - Being unable to use your normal clothes I HATE the working attire that Salmon Run forces on you. It's UGLY! I'd much rather use my preferred clothes from normal PvP.

Other Problems

- The game doesn't let you play with more or less than 8 players in a match Looking at other online shooters, pretty much all of them let you play with different amounts of players, rather than forcing a set number on you. (Let alone being able to enter and exit mid-game) I get that Nintendo wants to be original and likes to do things their own way. But in this case, I really wish they would've done it the same way other online shooters did. I believe we wouldn't be stuck in "Waiting Room Hell" nearly as much, if the game was more flexible with the number of people that can play at a time... - Abilities being locked to Clothes Clothes should be cosmetics first, period! And I don't believe it was a good idea to lock Abilities behind clothes. And it very often creates a dilemma to me. Since the clothes I really like, often have abilities I have no use for. While clothes with good abilities for me, often look ugly AF. So yeah, enough said here...

How Splatoon 2 could be improved

Let's tackle the small fry first...

Improving Cosmetics and Abilities

- Separate Clothing and Abilities I'd make Clothing completely cosmetic, while Abilities have their own slot-system. It could work the very same way as they work now, just without the clothes. And instead of buying clothes for abilities, you would buy... Let's say, Badges or something like that.

- Add more Clothing categories Like this: - Head (Hats, Caps, Headbands, Bandanas...) - Face (Glasses, Masks, Facepaint...) - Body (Shirts, Coats, Sweaters, Jackets...) - Wrists (Bracelets, Watches, Sweatbands...) - Hands (Gloves) - Legs (Pants, Dresses, Skirts...) - Feet (Shoes, Boots, Sandals...) - Accessories (Necklaces, Rings, Vests, Wigs...) Obviously that would mean, for example, Gloves are seperate from Body Gear now. As well as allowing you to wear Hats and Glasses at the same time. - Adding new customization options for your Inkling/Octoling Adding the following options would really perfect the character creation in my eyes: - Face (not just the eyes) - Voice - Height - Body Type (Skinny, Fat, Muscular, etc.) So people would be able to re-create their Inksona's much more accurately in-game... :3

Improving Salmon Run

- Unlockables: Normal PvP Clothes for Salmon Run and Salmon Run Work Clothes for PvP Unlock the Work Clothes as equippable cosmetics for other modes. And at the same time, from the moment you unlock them, you will always play Salmon Run with the clothes you have equipped. If you want your Work Clothes back, simply equip them to play the old-fashioned way. Both unlock after you reach a certain Rank in Salmon Run! - Make Salmon Run playable online, even when main shifts are closed. The logic behind this is: When Grizzco is closed, Inklings and Octolings can still work on their own and sell the Eggs they collect. This'd be a great way to make Salmon Run playable at all times, even when Grizzco is not available. However, it'd play a little differently... - You'd be able to freely pick your weapon. And it wouldn't change in-between waves. - Difficulty is still dependant on your rank. But it won't change. If you win, it won't increase. If you lose, it won't go down. - Players vote for stages and the game then randomly picks the stage from the voted options (Like Mario Kart 8 online picks tracks) - You only get cash at the end. Nothing else! - Since Mr. Grizz isn't around when you work on your own, there'll be no one to order you around or give you advice! So basicly, when Grizzco is open (which right now is the only time you can play Salmon run) it'd play as usual. But when Grizzco is closed, the above mentioned changes are in effect, until they open again.

Improving PvP Modes

- Make Ranked Mode available from the start Aka, no longer having to unlock Ranked by reaching level 10. You can jump straight into competitive, if you want. This actually goes hand in hand with the more drastic changes I suggest, further down. - Ability to play with more or less than 8 players AT THE VERY LEAST FOR REGULAR MATCHES! Like I said, being able to play with different amounts of players would greatly cut the time we spend waiting for a lobby to fill up. It works well for all other online games of this kind. So why shouldn't it in Splatoon as well? And the ability to enter a match mid-battle, could easily fix uneven teams in a match. Plus, if teams are uneven, I'd like to have some "handicap effect" in place, giving the outnumbered team a boost in some way, until it's even again. The greater the difference in numbers between teams, the higher the boost. - Allow players to create "Custom Lobbies" with their own rules Essentially this would revise the current "Private Battle", give it more options to customize your game, as well as the choice to either make it public or friends only. Obviously you could join any open lobby from a list of available lobbies, if you want to join a custom game, rather than create one. The host of the lobby would set the rules. Like choosing maps and Game Mode. In this regard it'd work exactly like Private Battle does now. But it'd offer far more options for the host to customize their game: - Time Limit (so you can play Turf Wars for longer or less than 3 minutes of you want. Same with Ranked and their 5 minutes) - Maximum Number of Players - Respawn Time - Ink Capacity - Damage/Life - Abilities On/Off - Items On/Off etc. This would allow for some much needed diversity, allowing you to play the familiar modes in very different ways... Lastly, I'd still allow EXP and Money to be obtained from this (at least if it's a public lobby). One possible concern some of you might have, is that if the Time Limit is ridiculously high (like 30 minutes for example), you'd have to sit through the whole thing. Well no, you wouldn't. Since other online games of this nature allow you to enter and exit mid-game. So that very same option would allow you to leave at any time. Of course, the downside is that you won't receive any EXP or Money, if you don't play the match until the end. And now we're getting to the changes for Regular Mode (and Splatfests) As far as I can see, there are two ways to improve it. One very simple way and one drastic way, that changes Regular Mode in some significant ways... The simple way is: - Make "Splatfest Power" a feature for normal Turf Wars This would be the easiest way to fix the issue of unbalanced match-up's in Turf Wars. Since, if it works as intended, there'd at least be some sort of balance between players and their skills. It wouldn't be perfect, but IMO it's better than nothing. But like I said, there is another, more drastic way to go about it. And I am sure some people will lose their mind and want to see me on a chopping block for coming up with these ideas. (If there's anything I learned, it's that people don't like big changes. Especially if it's a game changer!) I'll be blunt: I believe Splatoon would be better, and appeal to much more people, if it were half Party-Game and half Competitive Game! The key to this lies in the "Regular/Ranked Split" Make "Regular" the "Party Side" of Splatoon, for casual players who want to have good old fun. While "Ranked" would be the fully "Competitive Side" of Splatoon, where you need to have superior skills to come out on top. While the, above mentioned, "Custom Lobby" feature would allow players to customize their games, and give their matches the best of both worlds maybe. Or turn their games into something different... If you wonder why I would do it like this... Well, have a look at this informative reddit post, that talks about Party Games and Competitive Games. Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/smashbros/comments/281eja/why_smash_is_a_party_game_and_what_the_melee/ It's about Smash Bros (and quite a lengthy read), but a lot of the points there should apply to any game! And you might understand why I'd vouch for the following changes... - Add items to Regular! Let me stress this one more time: REGULAR MODE ONLY! ITEMS WOULD NOT BE IN ANY RANKED MODES!!! This system isn't even new, since the Battle Dojo from the first game, actually had items! Items from Single Player and Octo Expansion (adjusted for Multiplayer) would appear here. And they would appear all over the stage. It'd have items such as "Battle Armor", along with the ability to stack armors for more durability... "Ink Tanks" that refill your ink, as well as temporarily increase your Ink Capacity... "Canned Subs" to swap out your Sub Weapons, until you get splatted... "Canned Specials" giving you instant access to the depicted Special Weapon... The "Full Power Up" from the first game's Battle Dojo, increasing all of your stats for a short time... On top of that, I could imagine some specials from the previous game returning in item-form. And maybe some original items. Such as temporary upgrades like "Spread Shot", "Rebound Shots" or "Homing Shots". Items would mostly appear randomly. But when a team is at a disadvantage or player imbalances are detected, items would spawn more closely to the players/teams at a disadvantage. Again, I stress: ONLY REGULAR MODES WOULD HAVE ITEMS! Ranked on the other hand wouldn't have them. So if you loathe items and random chance in games, just play Ranked and be happy. Or make your own "Custom Lobby" and turn them off! And since I mentioned the Battle Dojo from the first game so many times... - Revise Battle Dojo from the first game and make it a new Regular mode I really believe "Balloon Battle" from the first game would make a really good new Regular mode. Just like it was in the first game, the objective would be to pop as many balloons as possible and rack up points. You lose points if you get splatted and whoever has the most points, wins! But of course, there'd be some changes: - Obviously, it'd be a team mode now. So now the points of every team member are added up for the Team Score. And the team with the higher Team Score wins. If there's a draw, there'd be overtime, until one team takes the lead. - Add balloons with multiple colors that are worth more points The normal balloons would earn you 1 point for every one you pop. However, this game would also have balloons with multiple colors, which are worth more points. Of course, the more points a balloon is worth, the less often it appears. - Balloons would spawn more frequently and in multiple areas all over the map If you are one of the few people, who ever got to play the Battle Dojo in the first game, I think you might remember how it works. There is an area marked on the map and balloons will spawn there after some time. But in this mode, the balloons would spawn much faster, instead of having to wait for like 10 to 20 seconds for them to spawn. Also, balloons would also now appear in multiple areas all over the map, instead of just one area. And also in different intervals. So it'd be much more chaotic now. Turf Wars is all alone in the Regular mode. It's time to add a new Regular mode for once, instead of giving all the new modes to Ranked only. Of course, since it would be a new Regular mode, it'd also have items. - Splatfest Ranking and Scoring The way you'd rank up and thus earn Sea Snails, I'd do a little differently. Again, I think it is too winning-oriented. Instead, while winning is one way to earn points for your title, I'd add more things that can earn you points. Like helping out a teammate, splatting enemies that fire at your teammate, assisting in a splat, Booyahing together in the first 10 seconds of a match. These things would net you more points towards your title. So ultimately it's not so much about winning during Splatfest, as it is about sticking together and working as a team. Performing teamwork actions would actually reward you more, than just winning the match. And it'd perfectly work with the team-mentality of Splatfest. An "Alternate Way" to handle this would be to ditch the Splatfest leveling altogether and instead collect "Splatfest Tokens". You earn Splatfest Tokens after every match, depending on how much turf you inked, whether or not your team won and by performing various teamwork actions during the game, like the aforementioned examples. Again, you would get the most rewards out of working well as a team and not for winning. You could spend Splatfest Tokens at a vending machine for Sea Snails, Ability Chunks, unique gear or Food/Drink Tickets (which you could freely pick even). You know funfair's in real life, where you can win tokens and exchange them for various rewards? Yep, that was my main inspiration for this alternate idea for Splatfests. And it's very fitting in my eyes. ;) And that's it! That's all the ideas I have that could really make Splatoon 2 better. Or maybe even a possible sequel. If you want a polite discussion, I'm all for it. But I won't be talking with people that obviously want to troll, completely trash me for my ideas or performing any inconsiderate, disrespectful or hostile action against me. That's all. See you.

[statebystateadventure]

It is situated directly on the 49th parallel only a short distance from the Geographical Center of the North American continent. This is on the borders of both North Dakota in the United States and Manitoba in Canada. You should visit the International Peace Garden not only for it’s beauty, but for what it symbolizes, peace between nations.

The idea to form a garden in the middle of the North American continent began in the late 1920’s. Canada and the United States wanted to do something to symbolize the peace between two nations which had existed from the beginning.

Finally, in 1932, the International Peace Garden was formally dedicated. The Civilian Conservation Corps began building structures in the garden, some of which can still be found there today. This unique place is a must visit location that stands for peace not only between the US and Canada, but, in hopes, for all nations.

Things to See and Do in the International Peace Garden

There are many things to do while visiting the International Peace Garden. I suggest trying to spend at least a couple of days to really get a chance to explore. Here are just a few of the things to see and do during your visit:

Fountains

The 9/11 memorial

Carillon bell tower

Gift shop and cafe

Bike ride

Interpretive center

Peace chapel

Game Warden Museum

Hike

And much more

This place is more than just a beautifully cultivated landscape. It is unique. You might be reminded of a National Park, a state park, and a botanical garden all wrapped up in one. It has so much to offer.

The East Side of the Garden

When you first enter the garden you can go either right, towards Canada, or left, towards the United States. While in the International Peace Garden, however, you are in neither.

The road loops around the entire garden and there is plenty of parking all around. Several picnic areas are also available throughout the garden with tables and trash cans. The path around is paved and not too long, but you can drive and then stop at different locations if you prefer.

By parking near the entrance on either side you will enter the east side of the Peace Garden. This is where you will find a beautiful fountain with the Promise of Peace sculpture. It is a recent addition as the previous one did not hold up to the inclement weather, this one was dedicated in 2016.

This new sculpture is made of stainless steel and will hopefully bear the outdoor weather better than the last. When you see the two hands cupped together releasing a dove and hear the quiet sound of running water, you will be filled with your own sense of peace.

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Sunken Garden

Walk the paved path along either side of the garden to enjoy the beautiful flowers and stream that runs through the center. You will come to some gates, these are here to keep out the deer, but people are free to walk through anytime. It takes you into the sunken garden.

This area in itself could be the one reason you should visit the International Peace Garden. You will suddenly be surround by literally thousands of plants. There is a large pool in the center with a fountain and waterfall fountains on either side as well.

Sit in one of several benches around the fountain to take in the beauty or walk around admiring all the incredible diversity of plants surrounding you. Whatever you choose I am sure you will feel the sense of peace that this place is meant to instill.

By being able to walk freely between two countries and observing that there is little difference on the surface, you may begin to realize the significance of this location. What it represents is just as great as what it is.

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Interpretive Center

Held within the walls of the Interpretive Center is something amazing. One of the largest collections of cacti and succulents you can imagine. This is surprising because the border of North Dakota and Canada is an unlikely place to encounter cacti and succulents, especially by the thousands!

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This collection is amazing though and definitely worth seeing. The variety of plants you can see is astounding with everything from commonplace to rare and unusual. We spent half a day just wandering through and if it weren’t for our youngest finally dragging us away, we may have spent much longer. It is something you should visit the International Peace Garden to see.

The Interpretive Center also houses a gift shop, restrooms, and a small cafe with reasonably priced food items. We were able to purchase our souvenir magnet which is something we like to do at the places we visit. There is also a really neat map on the wall where you can place a pin on your home. They have both a US and world map so everyone can participate.

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Carillon Bell Tower and 9/11 Memorial

The Carillon Bell Tower was originally purchased by two sons in memory of their mother, Lady Arma Sifton. The Westminster Chime that you hear rang for 42 years at the First Methodist Church of Brandon, but the bells were originally cast in Croydon England in 1931.

These bells were donated because the original church joined with another church and no longer needed them. North Dakota Veterans organizations were able to raise money in order to re-house the bells in the International Peace Garden. The bells can be heard ringing throughout the garden every 15 minutes, during the warmer months.

This bell tower is a great example of Canadians and Americans working together. By their combined efforts this bell tower’s mellifluous chime can be heard. It is dedicated to all war veterans and the chimes can help us to remember all who have served.

While the bell tower is found on the Canadian side of the garden, the 9/11 memorial is almost directly across the garden on the American side. Here again is a wonderful example of these two nations working together. While these alone may not be reason enough that you should visit the International Peace Garden, they are pretty cool to see (and hear).

The Canadian government and Manitoba Territory provided the funds to move the steel girders from the original Twin Towers in New York to the International Peace Garden. They understood the significance of this event, not just for America, but for the world. They greatly contributed to establishing this memorial in a place where it can help us better understand the necessity of the Peace Garden.

Step Inside the Peace Chapel

On the south side of the garden you will find the Peace Chapel. Looking at it from the outside you probably wouldn’t even realize it is a chapel. There is no fancy stained glass or steeples. The building is simple.

Inside there are seats all around and a podium in the middle. A place to sign the guest book greets you at the entrance. The real reason to step inside, though, is for the opportunity to read the wonderful quotes carved into the stone. We read everyone and then shared our favorite with the family.

The doors are always open, so you can visit anytime you like. Keep reading to find out what the kids favorite part about the chapel is. We love inspirational quotes, please share if you have one, from the Peace Chapel or otherwise.

The Campground

Found within the International Peace Garden is a surprisingly awesome campground. It is able to accommodate campers of all types, from tents to large RV’s. Many sites have water and electric hook-ups. There are lots of features to love about this campground.

We stayed in a pull-thru site that had plenty of room for our 29′ travel trailer and tow vehicle. The site had lots of space and privacy, with trees on all sides. Many sites have a cement pad to park on. You will find a picnic table and fire ring at each site as well. There is also a dump station with two sides, which means less wait time.

This campground feels like one you would find at a state park, which I was really not expecting. One of the things you will really appreciate here is the free firewood (donations accepted), I know we did. There are two bath houses available with showers, which are clean and well kept, always a bonus.

Staying inside the International Peace Garden makes exploring this beautiful location so easy. From the camp you can take a bike ride along the bike paths or drive the scenic road through the garden. In the campground itself you can take a nice family bike ride or after dinner stroll. I strongly recommend staying here if you are going to visit the garden and of course, you should visit the International Peace Garden.

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Take a Hike

Our family loves hiking and enjoying the outdoors. So when we found out that the International Peace Garden also had several nature trails to hike we knew we were going to have to hike on at least one of them.

We chose to hike the Lakeview Trail because it was on the Canadian side. Now we can say that we’ve hiked in Canada! It was about four miles round trip. This is a great length for our family so it worked out perfectly.

The trail loops around with views of several ponds. On the water we spotted many birds including, geese, loons, ducks, and several other birds as well. We also saw a beaver and a few beaver lodges. For the kids it’s not always about the animals we see, but sometimes the ones we don’t. There were tracks and other signs of many animals that use the trail too.

Most people come to see the formal garden. This means the trails are reserved for those of us that really like to explore. Which is why I think staying in the campground is such a good idea. It will give you a chance to see parts of the garden that others don’t explore. Another great reason why you should visit the International Peace Garden.

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Other Features to Explore

There are several other places to explore within the Peace Garden. At the entrance to the garden is the original dedication cairn from 1932. Just inside the entrance to the right is a beautiful floral clock. This clock works and the design will change annually which give you a great reason to go back.

Another feature to explore is the pollinator and kitchen garden located just outside the Interpretive Center. We liked the different flowers found here that aren’t along the formal garden path. It also contains several varieties of fruits and vegetables. These help to supply the cafe.

The North American Game Warden Wildlife Museum can also be found in the International Peace Garden. We just missed our chance to visit by one day. It seems really interesting and gives us a great excuse for going back for another visit.

Some of the Kids’ Favorites

Our kids had a great time wandering through the garden, staying in the campground, and hiking the trail. However, there were a few things here that they really enjoyed.

During our stay we got lucky and there was a full moon. So we took the kids for a moonlit walk through the formal garden. This was another benefit of staying in the campground. The gardens are always open.

Behind the Peace Chapel is a marker defining the border between the two countries. Us parents could stand in America while the kids waved to us from Canada, the kids thought this was great. But even more fun than hopping back and forth between two countries is climbing on the giant hay rolls that also occupy the area.

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Inside the Interpretive Center they had a table with crayons and coloring pages. Somehow coloring is more fun when you do at a cool location. They really enjoyed finding all the fossils that are in the stone inside the Peace Chapel. Of course, the playground is pretty fun too.

Getting Back

The Border Agent was super nice and even let us take his picture!

Once you leave the Peace Garden there is a US Customs and Border Protection station to go through. The Dunseith Port of Entry is a very easy port to get through. Being that it is right outside the Peace Garden, they are very accommodating to visitors.

I had called ahead to make sure that we would not have any trouble getting through without passports. We also do not have our children’s birth certificates, which is recommended. The agent I spoke to told me it might take longer, but it wouldn’t be a problem. She was right.

The agent checked our drivers licenses, had us write down the kid’s names and birth dates, and then we pulled forward. It is standard procedure for them to look inside any trailer or RV coming through. An agent poked his head in to have a look. After that we were on our way. It was so much quicker and easier than I had imagined, even without passports.

Now You Know Why You Should Visit the International Peace Garden

Before deciding to visit North Dakota I knew of the existence of a peace garden somewhere on the border with Canada. What I didn’t know was that it is such a meaningful location. It really has so much significance and surprises me that more people aren’t visiting here every year.

You should visit the International Peace Garden at least once in your life. You can camp, hike, bike, and so many other things. If more people were to show support of this place, it could encourage other countries to create something similar. We all want peace and it can be found here in the International Peace Garden.

This is a partially sponsored post. The opinions and thoughts here are our own. We enjoy sharing honestly with you about the great places we have discovered.

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  Why You Should Visit the International Peace Garden It is situated directly on the 49th parallel only a short distance from the Geographical Center of the North American continent.

[skymoonandstardust]

Office Hero Part 2

An: Here we are. . .Part two.  Hope this lives up to your expectations babes <3 and in case you missed it, here’s part one.  Happy reading! 

You’d first met the enigma that was Clark Kent six months ago . . .and for all that time you’d been watching him, trying to keep track of anything and everything in an attempt to unravel his mystery.  Every time he left, everywhere he went, who he talked to, what he did, all the things he said—you made a mental note of it all. And a literal note too.  All your months of research were recoded in a notebook that you kept on you at all times, ready to be whipped out and written in at any second.  Not to mention you had a typed copy of it all in a word document on your computer that was backed up on two memory sticks (you could never be too careful) every single observation you made, all the theories you came up with, articles and documents that had anything to do with him—it was all there. 

For all that research though, you still hadn’t figured him out yet.

There was still no describable obvious reason why Clark Kent, the quiet, shy, mild mannered journalist with the large dorky glasses would be dangerous enough for a Ten.  . . and by now it was driving you crazy.   You needed to find out.

Though now you seemed to have less time then ever. On top of your usual job was the problem of superman. Ever since the man of steel had shown up (a week or so after Clark had as a matter of fact, a coincidence you cursed) it seemed like everyone was on superman duty. Every time there was ever any news of superman or a disaster close by that he might show up at, the nearest most available journalist would be sent out to cover it—never mind if they usually wrote for the sport section or waxed eloquent about the latest fashion every issue.

If it had to do with superman it had to be seen and reported which meant all hands on deck and no one was excluded.  Of course, the most recognized superman reporters and the duo at the forefront of the pack was Clark Kent and Lois Lane. . . but since Clark was somewhat flaky, what with disappearing left and right, Lois was being rescued more than half the time and the sheer volume of crisis in Metropolis-- paired with all the superman sightings, it took much more than two reporters to get it all.  

It seemed like more than once a day now you were being dragged away from your work to write something superman related or kicked out of the daily planet to go to one crime scene after another in the hopes that the man in blue would show up. . .and then whether he had or not you’d have to trudge back to your office and finished your usual pile of work, along with whatever you may or may not have gotten on superman.  What made it even more annoying was the discovery that the hero was also a ten on the danger scale—it made you think of Clark and his ten, sending your mind in a downward spiral of wondering how Clark Kent could be as dangerous as the man of steel himself. . .

It was a lot to handle, practically twice the work so it was no surprise that you had very little time left over for observing or Clark Kent and his mysterious ten.

Thankfully today seemed to be a quiet day—no supervillains, huge crimes, explosions or threats to the city which meant no sign of superman. . . but then it was still early, not even lunch yet so there was still plenty of time for something crazy to happen. Still, you couldn’t continue your research or observation either since there had been no sight of Clark anywhere, so you still felt a little down and crabby as you typed away.

Oh, would you look at that! what’s that saying? “Speak of the devil and he shall appear”? well that’s just what happened because right as you finished the thought the Kansas farmboy himself showed up. though, It wasn’t Clark but the the girl beside him, chatting away as she walked through the glass door he held open for her that drew your attention immediately.

She was taller than him (which was saying a lot because Clark’s no midget) and thin, but not the stick figure of the magazine model. it was the tough thinness of the athlete, all muscle and strength from constant never-ending use and training. She had to be an athlete you thought, or at least work out a lot.  Her long dark hair was held back in a ponytail and piercing eyes surveyed the room from a pale beautiful face. She was pretty, no doubt about that, but somehow unlike so many others her beauty only made you feel lifted up instead of making you compare yourself and tear your own beauty down--- as had happened too many times to count.   You guessed that she’d probably be a six on the danger scale. tough no doubt—but no ten.

You were right about one thing; no way was she a ten.

They started walking around the room, Clark introducing her to everyone along the way and you kept half an eye on them as they steadily came closer . . .and the eleven above her head gradually grew more visible.

Unfortunately, when you saw it you’d just stood up, about to head to the printing machine when you noticed it and stopped dead in your tracks, heart pounding. It felt like every atom and part of you was shaking as you stared at those numbers in complete disbelief—stunned to your core. That had to be wrong-- It just had to be wrong! You’d never seen an eleven in your life. You didn’t even think that the numbers could go up that high!! . . . until now anyway.  You blinked in astonishment and yep, the numbers were still there above her head and still the same.  As you saw them walking toward you you couldn’t help but step back in fear, half thinking of bolting and making a quick escape to the copy room and hiding till she was gone.

It was a fleeting thought that you squashed as soon as it was formed, rallying yourself almost immediately. No, you shouldn’t run. Hardening yourself and gathering your courage you stood your ground and waited for the two of them to come to you—there wasn’t time to run anyway because Clark and the mysterious woman were already approaching, that Eleven getting larger and bolder every second along with Clark’s Ten.

As they stopped in front of you, you forced an easy smile, desperately avoiding glancing at either of the floating digits that seemed to be begging for attention.  

Your forced grin must have been convincing enough because Clark didn’t seem to notice, and he didn’t say anything about it. He only flashed his usual bright smile and gestured to the woman next to him “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”

“Hi, nice to meet you—I’m Y/N.” You said holding out your hand.  

She immediately took it and gave it a frim shake that was stronger then you were expecting. It was worse then Clark’s and Clark was notorious for having an iron handshake, which you’d experienced to your displeasure more than once. . . thankfully this came in use now because you were able to put up a poker face and not wince or flinch at her hard grip.  

“So this is the famous Y/N? It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Famous?” you chuckled “hardly.” Thankfully Diana released the grip now and you resisted the urge to shake or rub your arm to dispel the numbness.  “You are to me. Clark talks about you so often I feel like I know you, that you’re my friend too.”

“That much huh?” Your eyes flicked over to Clark who had an altogether too pleased grin on his face.

Diana nodded “Yes, that much.  In fact, besides Lois you’re all he talks about—you’re clearly his dearest friend.” At that you grinned widely and looked over at Clark who avoided your gaze by staring at the tv screen playing the news above the three of you, looking slightly embarrassed and sheepish.  He hardly ever acted that way, so It was way more fun than It should have been to see him like that “Is that so?”

It was Diana who answered, “Very much so.”

“Alright—” Clark spoke up, good natured as always “I think that’s enough of the two of you ganging up on me.”   You and Diana looked at each other, smiling and you could tell she was as close to laughing as you were “Ok, ok” you conceded, barely concealing the happy amusement in your voice “We’ll change the subject.”

You turned back to Diana “So then, where are you from?”

“It’s a small island near Greece in the Aegean Sea. . .”

The conversation went on for another minute or two before the three of you were saying goodbye’s and Clark and Diana were walking off.

Another high number on the danger scale that doesn’t seem to deserve it That’s what was going through your head as you watched them walk away. Like Clark she seemed nothing but nice and kind --- and if you hadn’t seen the numbers for yourself you never would have believed that she would measure anywhere near Clark’s ten let alone blow the entire scale out of the water.

Two extremely dangerous people just happening to find each other and become friends? What were the chances of that? you didn’t need to do the math to know it was slim. If you hadn’t been sure before you were sure now that something was going on and that there was definitely something up with Mr. Clark Kent. And now his friend Diana too. . .

The mystery had just deepened, and you were more determined than ever to get to the bottom of it.

The forevers: ​ @casownsmyass​ ​​ @docharleythegeekqueen​​ @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @scarlettsoldier​ @his-paradox​ @l4life @fangirl-who-dreams ​​@sarciaczekk​ @esoltis280​ @theresnofandomforthis​  @a-sea-of-fandoms @thatbasicnerd4life @scarlettsoldier @cassiopeia-barrow

The office heroes: @scionofthestars @suz-123 @aquabrie @sneakingthroughyourgifs​ ​​ @bbparker​ @iclaudsworld​ ​  @purpledolphin-f​ @coltcas

[uniquequotesonlife]

Travel Experts Reveal 10 Ways To Save On Travel

We’re not mathematicians, but we’re pretty sure the following theorem holds true: There is an inverse relationship between how badly you need a vacation and how comfortably you can afford one. That is, the more you need a vacation, the less likely you are to be in the financial position to pull one together. That’s what it feels like in our experience, anyway. Call it the algebra of exhaustion.

iStock But what if there’s a tricky workaround? What if you could take that sorely needed week away and come home to a livable bank account? We reached out to a handful of travel agents and vacation writers to see if the dream is achievable—and it turns out, it just may be. If I had had to pay for hotels, vacation rentals or even hostels in each of these expensive cities, I would never have been able to afford the trips. Here’s what we learned, all boiled down into 10 thrifty tips that’ll save you hard-earned cash on your next getaway:

1. Remember the Rule of Tuesdays.

Tuesday is an important day of the week in the world of air travel. If you can travel on a Tuesday or even Wednesday, you’ll probably get the cheapest flight of the week. Generally, people do their traveling on Thursday, Friday, or over the weekend. Demand drives prices up, so you’re more likely to find a cheap flight during off-peak times—usually a Tuesday or Wednesday.

iStock At least, that’s what we’ve always heard. But is it really true? Yes, according to news outlet CNBC. While there’s no magic day to purchase the best deals, the cheapest days to travel are Tuesday, followed by Wednesday, and then Saturday. Airlines use algorithms to determine prices, and these are constantly being updated based off of sales and availability, says travel writer and vice president of travel company Pruvo, Doron Nadivi.

iStock.com/scyther5 “There is also an old myth about ordering 57 days prior to travel. Both of these suggestions are not true,” Nadivi tells us. “Last year I booked a flight from Costa Rica to New Zealand…, returning from Bangkok to Costa Rica months prior to travel. I put an alarm to check 57 days before departure and the exact same flight number, same route, same website cost four times more.” Of course, there are always the many price tracking sites out there. Some sites even show long-term price estimates for flights, so you can plan your vacation around your budget.

iStock Still, the real trick when purchasing a flight is to follow through when the price is good. If you see a great deal, get it, now. Chances are it’ll be gone in a few hours. The “book on Tuesday six weeks out” rule may be inaccurate, but there’s plenty of technology available to get you where you want to be for the best possible price. Use it.

2. Hit the shoulder season.

What’s the shoulder season, you ask? We explain—plus give you a few quick tips on how to avoid the tourists and get affordable flights—in the video below:

3. Be a little impulsive.

There are pros and cons to this tried-and-true technique for a quick escape from the day-to-day grind. But asking for a “cheap ticket to anywhere” doesn’t work like it used to.

iStock Once upon a time, you could walk up to a ticket counter and get a cheap, last-second deal for an undersold flight. It was great if you didn’t much care where you were going. But those days are over. Today, most flights are overbooked, and last-minute flying can actually be more expensive, not less. Still, the days of the 11th-hour deal aren’t over entirely. It’s just that you have to use technology to take advantage now. Try signing up for your favorite airline’s email list. That way you’ll see any last-minute specials, and you can easily build a trip around what’s cheap. You can also check out coupon sites like Groupon, or LivingSocial for luxurious, planned getaways for a fraction of the normal price.

iStock To improve your odds of scoring a deal, try to visit less popular cities. For instance, Aspen, Colorado is a beautiful ski town, but it’s also busy and expensive. Why not hit the slopes in Lake Tahoe, Nevada, or Brian Head, Utah, instead? You can beat the crowds, save some cash, and discover new places with this tactic.

4. Ditch the hotel.

Hotels are great, but with a new generation of travelers hotels have taken a hit. Just like Uber and Lyft are changing the world of ground transportation, Airbnb and VRBO are laying siege on the hotel industry.

iStock Through these and similar services, you can find great deals on short-term house rentals instead of booking a bunch of hotel rooms for larger travel parties. There are also smaller sites in most every major city that will have a listing of units that are available for travelers to rent. Do your research and you’ll find the options are practically endless—and very affordable. You can also use home-sharing apps and basically stay in a new city for free “in exchange for caring for someone else’s home and pets,” says author and world-traveler Kelly Hayes-Raitt, who traveled the world for four years straight while reporting her book, Living Large in Limbo, and racked up quite a few tricks during the process. “I get unpaid accommodations, a kitchen to make my own meals and other homey perks like free cable and DVDs, use of a car, and no nickel-and-dime fees hotels tack on.”

Nishant Choksi for The New Yorker There are sites to set up accommodations for travelers to house-sit, or to actually swap homes for a period of time. This is a great way to get to know a new city without spending a ton of money. “During the past eight years, I’ve house-sat in London for two months during the Olympics, Berlin, Amsterdam, Hanoi, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, Penang and Osaka,” Hayes-Raitt tells us. “If I had had to pay for hotels, vacation rentals or even hostels in each of these expensive cities, I would never have been able to afford the trips.”

5. Get off the plane.

If you have some wiggle room for your travel plans, let the gate attendant know. That way you can be put on the short list if they need volunteers. If you’re flying on United or Delta, you can bid on how much money it’d take for you to give up your seat. After the David Dao debacle of 2017, United Airlines has raised the cap on how much they’re willing to pay for passenger seats on overbooked flights to $10,000. That would make for some vacation.

iStock In the moment, there’s often the panic-induced sense that all you want to do is reach your destination, but if you psych yourself up to sit around the airport for a couple of hours to make some serious miles or money, then you’ll be good to go. With everything going on after the United incident, you should know that airlines do have the right to remove any passenger (except for people with disabilities and unaccompanied minors).

6. Brown bag it.

We know a granola bar isn’t the same as that breakfast burrito you could buy at the airport, but it could save you a good chunk of change. Airport food tends to be more expensive than the already-pricey food at professional sporting events and theme parks, so if you have some time to spare, make yourself a meal and bring it. Some food is okay to pass through security, and if you have kids, you can always bring powdered milk and make them a drink in the airport instead of hitting up the terminal’s Starbucks. If you don’t have time to make something yourself, you can still pass over the expensive airport-specific restaurants.

iStock One of our favorite options is going to Subway and getting a footlong sandwich, then eating half at the airport and half on the flight. You can save yourself some good money this way. (Just don’t get the tuna; your fellow passengers won’t thank you for that.)

http://istock.com/amriphoto After you arrive at your vacation spot, take advantage of any local grocery stores and cook for yourself. Purchasing food, even pre-made meals, at a grocery store instead of eating out all the time will save you a fortune while you’re traveling.

7. Hydrate on the cheap.

Everyone knows you can’t bring liquids through security, including water. But you can bring an empty water bottle and fill it at a water fountain or fill station.

iStock It’s crucial to drink up on the plane; people tend to get really dehydrated when they travel because of the recycled air, the altitude, and the fact you don’t really drink a lot of liquids while you’re in flight (no one likes asking people to get up so they can use the restroom). This will keep you hydrated and save you from buying a $4 bottle of water.

8. Find new ways to get around.

Asking a friend to pick you up from the airport is almost as bad as asking them to help you move. Nobody wants to do it, but most people don’t feel like they can say no. However, in most major cities, there is public transportation that can take you to and from the airport.

iStock If you don’t have easy access to public transportation, you can try to take an Uber or Lyft, which will often save you some money compared with a taxi, which may overcharge via a large airport tax. Be aware, though, that in some cities, Uber and Lyft cannot pick up passengers from the airport.

iStock Do some research on your destination’s transportation before you go. Both the Google Maps app and the Citymapper app can provide you with information and schedules for trains, busses, and more. Where possible, take the monorail, subway, or bus instead of a taxi. Alternatively, you can always take the opportunity to explore the city on foot and walk to your final destination.

9. Take a cue from extreme couponers.

There are coupons for literally everything. If you know you’re going to be in a new city, take advantage of the ones that are for first-time customers only. Apps like Groupon and LivingSocial have deals for activities and food that could cut your costs in half.

iStock Another way to go about saving money on food is searching hashtags on Instagram for specific locations. If you find food pics that look appetizing, get in touch with the restaurant and see if they have any special deals or happy hours.

10. Book directly.

Airlines often offer more flexibility and cheaper fees than third-party sellers. A lot of websites will scour the internet for the best deals—which is great if you’re short on time or organizational skills—but then you usually get stuck with few options and little flexibility, since you’re booking through a third party.

iStock The best thing to do is use a search site like Skyscanner or Google Flights to find the cheapest flight, then head over to that airline’s website and book directly through them. When you book direct, you’ll get cheaper flights, and usually more flexibility and options for your trip.

iStock.com/YakobchukOlena These tips won’t just save you money on vacation. They might bring down the cost of a trip just enough that you can safely afford it in the first place. Follow our experts’ advice, and you could balance the equation that allows for a truly restorative—and much-deserved—adventure. Read the full article

[snowfragrance]

California 2017 review part 2

I’m summarizing the stay in downtown LA and Venice Beach/Santa Monica.

Downtown LA

Freehand aka the best hostel ever

We shared a room with two other guys who also went to Anime Expo so that was nice. They were pretty chill.

The Pros:

It’s a hostel so the price is cheaper when compared to the nearby hotels

Located in downtown LA, about a 20 minute walk from the convention center

There are bellhops ready to greet you and help take your bags

Free breakfast (though they had almost the same things for us every morning)

Steady WiFi

Amazing staff (I remembered their names after the first day, they were that amazing)

Very accommodating to requests

Working thermostat

Separate bathroom and shower

Roof top pool and bar

Indoor bar and restaurant

Free gym

Personal storage cubes

 The Cons:

Bunk beds were low. Everyone hit their heads at least once.

The elevators were down a few times. The staff helped drag all our stuff to our rooms on the 8th floor and gave us free drink tokens.

The light in the room was dim but we have our own personal light near our beds

 Free Attractions:

There were lots of gorgeous art murals. There were plenty around Venice Beach too.

Hollywood Sign: We walked through the neighborhood to get to the Hollywood Dog Park for better pictures. Lots of steep inclines and some nice houses. If you want good pics of the sign, go to the dog park and not to the Griffith observatory (which will show up on the gps but is further away).

Hollywood Walk of Fame: Another walk but we didn’t see every star cause that would take forever. I kinda wanted to see Trump’s star to see if it was still there or vandalized but I didn’t care enough to search for it. Really, the stars and sign are just there for pictures...Hollywood itself is very sketch so we didn’t hang around for too long.

Bradbury Building: Location of a couple of movies and TV shows. The inside of the building has some nice intricate iron railings. It looked like it belonged in the movie Inception but it wasn’t filmed there.

Natural History Museum of Los Angeles: not free, $12 admission. Really big and a good way to waste time before our nighttime flight

Food:

Californians like their juicing and organic foods. So healthy! Lots of good food trucks around the convention center.

CoCo Fresh Tea & Juice: Relatively cheap and delicious bubble tea, juices, and teas. There’s one about 5-10 minute away from the convention center.

Bulgogi Hut: We were about 15-20 minutes away from Korean Town so we got to have some all you can eat Korean BBQ. We had BBQ twice but Bulgogi Hut is the best one. Their prices are so cheap for the selection of meats. The side dishes were also good. People line up for hours to dine so go early because they don’t take reservations.

Chocolate Chair:  Went to get the famous Dragon’s Breath for fun. Basically liquid nitrogen over cereal balls. It’s amusing with the smoke coming out your nose. 

Transportation:

We walked and Uber everywhere. But there is also the metro and bus available. We just don’t have the energy to figure out the metro system.

Venice Beach/Santa Monica/Malibu

Venice Beach and Santa Monica was only a couple miles away so we walked back and forth between them. I wanted to go to Malibu to hike to a waterfall but we decided against that and do the state park because it had easier trails. We wanted to do Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. on the Santa Monica Pier but my sister’s BF is deathly allergic to shrimp and they had like 2 options without shrimp. Plus our eating schedules were all over the place so we were never hungry over at the Santa Monica side. 

Venice Beach Hostel

We shared a room with lots of guys. The one from Austria was really friendly. Two girls who looked like they were backpacking talked with us too but then noped out pretty quickly. This one might take the award for worst hostel away from YMCA hostel in Flushing.

The Pros:

It’s a hostel so the price is cheaper when compared to the nearby hotels

Located right by the boardwalk, literally a few minutes away from the ocean

Free ingredients for breakfast but you have to make it yourself

Allowed us to store our luggage after check out and before check in

 The Cons:

Unreliable WiFi

No AC, I had to keep my window open to keep my room from boiling and the noises from the street made sleep impossible

Toilet and shower were in the same room

No elevators, only stairs

They preferred cash and charged extra to use credit card (which they could have told us or have a disclaimer before we arrived)

Gnats everywhere

No food or drinks in rooms…well we brought water to our rooms anyway, everyone was dehydrated from walking everywhere

 Free Attractions:

Venice Beach

Venice Broadwalk

Venice Canals: First time seeing someone removing a coconut lol. Very pretty area with the houses along the canal costing millions.

Muscle Beach: Arnold Schwarzenegger use to work out there

Santa Monica Pier

Malibu Creek State Park: Bring lots of water cause there were no water fountains in the park when the visitor center is closed. Those were located near the parking lot. It’s got a deep rock pond and a lake. Easy hike trails with little shade along the paths. It has the site where M.A.S.H. was filmed if you are able to walk a couple more miles.

 Food:

We ate around the broadwalk and Main Street. Nothing really amazing…lots of the average American food.

Mao’s Kitchen: The only Chinese restaurant around. Food was decent but the décor was interesting. They have some legit communist propaganda hanging on the walls. To think I would find something like this in CA lol.  

 Transportation:

We walked and Uber everywhere. But there is also the metro and bus available.

 So California was fun, I wouldn’t mind visiting another area again. Don’t think I want to spend a night at Venice Beach again but it’s ok to visit during the day. The smell of weed on the boardwalk is disgusting. Venice Beach is sketchy but Santa Monica is so clean despite being so close. 

[wineanddinosaur]

Wolves Is Dropping Whiskey Like Sneakers. Are They Selling Liquid Gold?

Alongside a lupine silhouette on a plain wooden box, which, I would later learn had been made from eight-foot-long pieces of solid Douglas fir, the following words had been hot-iron engraved:

“The price of being a sheep is boredom. The price of being a wolf is loneliness. Choose one or the other with great care.”

Inside the box was a bulky bottle with a label made of a strange, soft, kid glove-like material. The accompanying press materials read like an Onion spoof of some hipster whiskey company, explaining that each bottle of Wolves is wrapped in Italian sheepskin leather, “which is hand cut, embossed, printed with UV light, and laid flush to the glass by hand. The bottle is heavy, French-cut glass, and the cork top is made of maple wood.”

As a booze writer, I get sent flashy bottles like these all the time. Ones shaped like skulls, cologne bottles, and oil drums. Once, I got a bottle that looked like a solid gold bar, and another time, a three-liter bottle of Belvedere with an LED light switch in the base that could be clicked on to illuminate the whole thing.

I’d seen it all before, and I knew that with such baroque packaging and hyperbolic marketing antics, there was no way this Wolves whiskey could possibly be any good. Nevertheless, I did my professional duty and took a sip.

It was incredible.

“God forbid you open that bottle and it’s garbage,” says Jon Buscemi, the co-founder of Wolves along with his buddy James Bond (the press materials identify them as the brand’s “creatives.”) “Even if the people aren’t into packaging and think it’s a gag, they’ll find great juice inside.”

It used to be that vodka was the spirit that elicited the biggest marketing hype, which makes sense, since it’s inherently odorless and flavorless — and often drawn from the same few mass-produced grain neutral spirit sources that everyone uses. The only way to differentiate it is through the marketing and packaging — and bullsh*t claims that might help make a brand stand out.

Whiskey has never really needed to do that. Sure, whiskey has similarly been a category with its own issues of puffery (no, that craft whiskey isn’t the same as the one once bootlegged by Al Capone), but when it comes to the packaging, it’s always been fairly humble and quotidian. That’s why you still see so many bourbon brands in the no-frills packaging they’ve used since their inception.

Jack Daniel’s is still packaged in its squared-off bottle with the black “Old No. 7” label. Jim Beam has a label so bland I bet you can barely picture it. Old Grand-Dad has some old grand-dad adorning the bottle. Even Pappy Van Winkle simply has a black-and-white side view of Pappy smoking a stogie. In general, if a whiskey tastes good, it typically markets itself. But as the whiskey marketplace grows and new customers are courted, that may all be changing. Wolves whiskey is banking on it.

The Catalyst

Wolves represents Buscemi and Bond’s first foray into the alcohol industry, which is yet another reason I expected their whiskey to suck. Both men hail from the fashion and designer sneaker industries. Buscemi is best known for his eponymous sneaker brand. Bond founded Undefeated, a designer footwear and apparel chain, which has locations in the U.S., Japan, and China.

It wasn’t even until about seven or eight years ago that the 44-year-old Buscemi became interested in whiskey. Like many men his age, he was into vodka when he was younger. Growing up in the New York City area, he had access to quality wines and spirits, plenty of which he gladly tried at dinner or in bars, but he was no connoisseur. It was when a friend introduced him to the whiskey-geek-beloved Willett that he got swept up by the emerging bourbon craze. “Drinking 110 proof, 16- or 17-year-old Willett Family Estate,” says Buscemi, “it changes your whole life.”

Still, Buscemi never had much desire to get into the industry himself. He was already a successful fashion entrepreneur. But one day, a friend brought over a bottle of California Gold (a famed underground blend I once broke the story on back in 2017). Buscemi couldn’t believe that some average Joe — an amateur! — had put together a whiskey this remarkable without the aid of a distillery or even industry know-how.

“It was kind of the catalyst — a lightbulb moment,” explains Buscemi, who is now based in Los Angeles. “I thought, we should put together a blend if we want to do something cool. We don’t have time to lay barrels down [to age] and all these other cool blends are hitting the scene as age statements take a back seat.”

The obvious first step would be to go to MGP, the massive bulk spirit factory that operates in Kansas and Indiana, and buy the same whiskey so many other startup brands buy, and then package it in their own slick bottles. And that was the initial plan. “We thought we could f*ck with it,” says Buscemi, “do it on our own and ‘hack’ it.”

Wolves Whiskey “creators” Jon Buscemi and James Bond.

While Buscemi and Bond were in the process of sourcing the whiskey for Wolves, however, they were introduced to a master distiller making some pretty extraordinary whiskey north of them in California wine country. That man was Marko Karakasevic, a 13th-generation family distiller who’s made a reputation for himself distilling local craft beer into whiskey.

“He’s into wacky sh*t,” says Buscemi, who during our conversation referred to Karakasevic as a both a hippie and a mad scientist. “He’s into just doing cool stuff. So why don’t we f*ck around and make a blend — start the brand this way?”

After several trials, the ultimate result was First Run, a blend made with whiskey distilled from stout beer and aged for eight years in French oak, whiskey distilled from pilsner and aged for five years in new American oak, and a rye whiskey (sourced from MGP) to round things out. The full blend is “lightly filtered with the mineral-rich water of Sonoma county,” according to the press release, to get it down to 106 proof.

I instantly recognized the one-of-a-kind hoppy yet underlying chocolate malt flavor profile when I tasted First Run. I was certain it was the result of distillate from Charbay Distillery in Ukiah, California — a cult favorite among whiskey geeks, though it’s never really broken out into the mainstream. Buscemi and Bond don’t cover up the fact that they source from Charbay — Karakasevic, whose father founded the distillery in 1983, is mentioned in the Wolves press materials — but they don’t completely own that fact, either.

But then again, the Wolves website doesn’t even refer to Buscemi and Bond as distillers or producers. Instead, they label themselves as a “unique creative group.” As they see it, their ideal customer has no idea who Karakasevic or Charbay are. In fact, their ideal customer might not even know Pappy Van Winkle. “I think the 1 percenters like you deserve the [sourcing] information,” Buscemi tells me. “But the 99 percent [of our customers] don’t really care about the story.”

Understanding Wolves’ Target Market

The New York launch party for Wolves was held in the Lincoln Room at Keens Steakhouse. I was invited, but unable to attend. Only one other journalist was invited — and not even a spirits writer:  Jonathan Evans, the style director of Esquire magazine. Judging by the Instagrams from the night, it seems like the rest of the attendees were equally cool scenesters: men in gold double-breasted jackets and wide-brimmed hats; women in statement glasses and fur-lined coats, lots of flashy watches, dangling chains and neck tattoos. (Buscemi insists there were a couple dozen whiskey geeks in attendance, too, but that they just aren’t perhaps as… photogenic.) Still, despite the fashion-forward crowd, Buscemi isn’t even sure who is ultimately going to be a fan of Wolves whiskey. “We’re slowly finding out,” he says. “We’re learning as we go. We don’t even know who our customer is yet.”

But Buscemi suspects that if he produces great whiskey and puts as much effort into the packaging, he and Bond will start attracting the same type of customers who’ve bought their other non-whiskey products in the past. Those people, or the 270,000 Instagram followers of the Buscemi brand, or the 1.8 million followers of Bond’s Undefeated, don’t need to know what Charbay is or who Pappy is; they just have to know what luxury looks like and what quality tastes like. Though it veers far from just about every other American whiskey brand’s marketing strategy, that’s the Wolves game plan.

“There’s a certain discerning customer that likes quality, digs New York street culture [and] East Coast late-’80/’90s [style] — that’s the overall umbrella,” explains Buscemi. “It could be a burger place, a hat, a sneaker, a hot sauce, a car, a whiskey. It’s a certain customer who likes a certain look. That’s always been our customer base, no matter what category we’re going after. No matter what industry.”

And yet, Buscemi also wants to intrigue the whiskey geek. Remember, he’s one himself. He recognizes that this luxury placement, this image-is-everything marketing and the fanciful bottle, might immediately turn off the connoisseurs he’s trying to court. “The packaging,” he concedes, “almost might be too thoughtful for the bourbon community.” But again, us whiskey geeks make up only a tiny fraction of Buscemi’s perceived target market — it’s the quality of the product itself that Buscemi and Bond are hoping will lure us.

A Fashion Strategy That Works for Whiskey

Wolves only had enough whiskey to produce 898 bottles of First Run, but that was fine because its sales model is also fairly unique. The brand doesn’t have any typical distribution or points of sale, such as liquor stores. All of Wolves’ whiskey is released online at the same time, exclusively available at Reservebar.com and Flaviar.com, which serve different states (though not all 50 states). Customers can find out about each new release by signing up (for free) for the allocation list, which currently has 4,500 names on it, though Buscemi admits a good 1,000 are family and friends.

In his article for Esquire, Evans described Wolves’ marketing strategy, referring to it as the “sneaker drop” model of releasing whiskey. “A limited-time-only release with just a handful (or fewer) points of distribution, scarce enough that you might miss it, even if you want it? That’s a sneaker thing,” he wrote. “A fashion thing.” But the “drop” is not a term Buscemi or Bond have ever used in Wolves’ marketing. They believe it’s simply the parlance of what their fashion-knowledgeable customers are most familiar with, so why not let the fashionmongers make that connection and believe Wolves whiskey is following this “sneaker drop” idea?

The second release, Winter Run, which (ahem) “dropped” in November, featured the same hyperbolic press-release language as First Run’s release. At that point, I just drank it up, poured myself a dram, and leaned back in my easy chair as I read it:

“[E]ach bottle is wrapped by hand in a chocolate espresso Italian sheepskin leather, which is laser cut, embossed, printed with UV light, and laid flush to the glass by hand. The bottle is heavy and French-cut, while the cork top is made of maple wood. Each bottle is delivered in a custom canvas sleeve that was stitched by hand and designed to fit Winter Run like a glove.”

Even if I couldn’t help but laugh again at how absurd this all was, I was pretty sure the whiskey inside was going to be great.

Indeed, I liked it even better than the First Run.

Wolves has four more releases planned in 2020 — and I’m sure four more hilarious press releases will accompany them, which I will copy and paste lines from and text to my whiskey geek friends so we can all share a good laugh. (Though, after laughing about it, I always tell them they should really try the whiskey as it’s, I-sh*t-you-not, actually great.)

There will be a Spring Run blend at the end of March, a second release of First Run in the fall (hopefully with a larger quantity this time). Wolves is also doing an upcoming collaboration with Neighborhood — Japan’s popular streetwear brand — that will be a bourbon finished in sake casks. The biggest and surely most ballyhooed release will occur late in the year, when Wolves sources whiskey from a distiller that isn’t Charbay (and that I agreed to keep off the record for now).

“I strive to create products that are obnoxiously high quality,” says Buscemi. “Wolves is a luxury and lifestyle fashion brand.” To market Wolves, he and Bond are applying their learnings and resources in luxury marketing to the spirits industry. “We see California whiskey as the vehicle.”

Back to Those Bottles

When they were planning the bottle design, Buscemi and Bond started by playing around with different materials for labels. “James and I are in charge of the forward-facing part of the brand, the marketing, the feel, the look,” Buscemi explains. “For the bottle we wanted something that incorporated both of our careers.”

Buscemi’s experience using leather goods from Italy for his designer sneakers and accessories seemed like a clever idea, especially when they found someone who could make and apply the sui generis labels. Since Bond is known for the utilitarian, military-inspired branding he used for Undefeated, they chose to go with similarly clean and simple typeface copy for the bottle, “like a BDU jacket,” Buscemi says. The production of the Wolves bottles also costs some six to seven times what, say, Jim Beam pays for its packaging.

Buscemi readily admits they spent as much time designing the bottles as they did the whiskey blend. His and Bond’s backgrounds have taught them that all the tiny details matter. As far as they’re concerned, that’s how you want to launch a brand. Maybe more American whiskey companies should follow suit.

“The thing is,” says Buscemi, “if you saw the Kentucky distilleries step out and do it, everyone would think it was corny, so it somewhat makes sense for them to stay in their lane. But, I’d love to see some kids down in Bardstown, [Kentucky, doing it]. I’d love to see a little more irreverence. I’d love to see some young, punk motherf*ckers making some great juice and putting it in sexy bottles.”

And, though Wolves may also move to simpler bottles with simpler paper labels one day, like everyone else in Kentucky and most of the whiskey-making world, for now the Italian sheepskin leather-wrapped French-cut glass bottle with the heavy maple wood cork inside the Douglas fir-bored box is how they’re going to continue trying to sell the country’s next great whiskey.

As Buscemi points out, “It’s kind of like getting an entire elevator pitch immediately when you just touch the bottle.”

The article Wolves Is Dropping Whiskey Like Sneakers. Are They Selling Liquid Gold? appeared first on VinePair.

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