#decided to add navi links...just in case

[cautiously0ptimistic]

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[shotosjupiter]

RAINY DAYS, I'M THINKING ABOUT YOU

pairing — nanami kento x gn!reader

summary — when nanami stumbles upon your coffeeshop on a heavy rainy day, he doesn't anticipate the sunny-ness of your personality to absolutely enrapture him.

𖤐 word count — 2.5k

𖤐 genre/tags— modern!au. kinda bakeryshop!au (?) reader works as a barista/baker! also... lowkey loser!nanami (he does NOT know how to flirt im so sorry hes just a hot businessman with not a clue in the world).

𖤐 author's note — inspired by rainy day by v! im currently writing this at 1am and i just want to sleep. I HOPE U GUYS ENJOY <3 ꒰masterlist꒱

NANAMI is trying not to curse his luck as he grumbles his way into the bakery. there are shadows of rain droplets on his pristine three-piece suit and his glasses are speckled with water. in most cases, he was prepared for every form of weather the sky presented, rain or shine.

in terms of today, his third alarm of the morning decided not to ring which lead to a flurry of hurried movements throughout the morning as he forgot to check the weather and his navy blue umbrella remained laying against the coat-rack by his door.

and so he hurriedly pet his little tabby cat farewell and sped walked out his front door. albeit, initially the weather hadn’t looked too bad. in fact, for most of the day the skies had appeared cloudy and nanami had almost hoped he was safe. almost.

it was on his trek home that the sky bestowed upon him sheets and sheets of rain pouring unflinchingly. he grappled to find any place of shelter as he walked (read: stumbled) through the streets until he found the yellow-orange sign of the bakery reading, open for business!

the bell jangled to indicate his entrance and then there he was in all his soaking wet glory atop the welcome mat of the bakery.

"hello! welcome to- oh."

nanami sees a figure in a blue apron make their way to the front register and then halt at the sight of him. he raises his head before tilting it to the side, giving you an awkward wave of hello.

"dear god, you are drenched." you exclaim before rushing around the front counter of the store and making your way to him. you usher him into a seat near the register before saying, "wait here."

nanami blinks at your figure, wondering what just happened before bringing his hands together in his lap and lacing his fingers together. he heaves a sigh before shivering, this day just couldn't get any worse, could it?

you come back with a towel in hand and a steaming mug of tea in the other. you toss nanami the towel and set the mug in front of him. he looks between you, the towel, and the mug all in slight confusion.

you make a shooing gesture before speaking, "it's peppermint tea, it'll help when you inevitably get sick from the rain," you pointed to the towel, "and to dry yourself, obviously. i live upstairs so when you're done with the tea i can take you upstairs, i might have some clothes you can fit."

you say the last part while eyeing his chest which showed off his defined muscles with the fabric of his dress shirt clinging to his skin.

nanami grasps the hot mug with both hands, taking a few sips from the mug before grimacing ever so slightly; there was a heapful of sugar tossed into the tea. he continued taking sips nevertheless before he set down the mug when it was three quarters empty, before calmly saying, "how do i know you're not going to kill me once you take me upstairs?"

you grinned at that, before giving him a nonchalant shrug, "it'd be bad for business, don't'cha think?"

there's silence between the two of you for a moment before you add, "i won't kill you, i swear." you extend a pinky finger toward him, beckoning him to link his finger with yours.

he rewards you with an unimpressed look and you huff in response before dropping your hand.

nanami debates internally if being dry is truly worth the potential hassle that's presenting itself to him. he reaches out to take another sip of the too-sweet tea you gave him before looking at you from the corner of his eye.

noticing his gaze on you, you smile at him brightly and wave before gesturing to the door upstairs maniacally.

nanami sighs internally. might as well.

so with a sigh, he heaves himself up, still dripping water onto the blue and tan checkered floors and follows you to the back of the shop and up the stairs. as you push the door open to your apartment, nanami peers his head inside to see the sliver of the space you call yours.

posters littered the walls, decorative pillows laid on the couch, and vaguely he could smell the scent of vanilla running through the space. not a serial killer then, he muses to himself.

"you can sit there, i'll be right back!" you say cheerfully and gesture to the green couch while you bustle to one of the rooms in the hallways and clatter around in search of clothes.

nanami hums a response back before making his way to the couch. hazel eyes drift this way and that way as he takes in your apartment. now, he is not typically a snoopy person; however, your living space was teeming with so much personality he couldn't help but be drawn to it, to learn about every aspect of it.

he leans in close to a string of polaroid pictures you have strung up, each picture containing a different scene. one with you in a baker's uniform, dutifully mixing batter with your tongue sticking out in concentration. in another, you are leaned against a friend and clearly in party attire. a different picture holds a picture in a selfie-esque position with only the corner of your showing in attempt to fit your friends into the photo.

in each photo you look happy. content.

nanami couldn't explain in that moment why he felt it but he felt the tenderness in his heart nearly combust. it was odd, seeing these hints of a stranger's life, seeing them happy, and feeling a warmth for them. a want to be included in this happy dream of a life. he reaches out to inspect a photo of you closer when you come back in.

"i'm back! oh, you're looking at my photos." you say this with a smile on your face, not judging him in the slightest. you tilt your head to the side, as if in question, like what you see?

nanami flushes and looks away, clearing his throat. he doesn't snoop. he wasn't. he was just... inspecting. right.

with a small laugh at his embarrassment, you hand him the clothes before stepping back from him. "that's okay, i don't mind it. i'll be back downstairs in case someone else came in - you can come back down when you're changed."

you give him one more gentle smile before slipping out the door. nanami grumbles to himself about your lack of safety of just leaving him, a stranger, alone in your apartment. nonetheless, he finds his way to the bathroom and changes into the clothes you had given him.

he clambers down the stairs once he's changed, his wet clothes folded into the crook of his arm. he finds you wiping down the counter, the open sign of the cafe now flipped over. for a second, he watches you. he takes in the clothes you're wearing, the apron worn atop, the soft creases near your eyes, and soft tendrils of your hair.

as if you could feel his gaze, you look up and brighten. "i hope the clothes fit okay, it was all i could find at hand - my cousin had left them over last time..." you say, fiddling with the rag in your hand.

nanami rotates his arm, trying to appear more comfortable in the clothes you had given him. the clothes, evidently, did not fit okay. the hems of the pants stood well above his ankles and the size was just a tad too small for his broad shoulder and so the hoodie stretched over his chest. still, he had warm clothes which is more than what he could ask for and so he nodded in thanks.

nanami reaches for his briefcase, searching for his wallet tucked in one of the pockets before offering you a handful of crisp bills. "here. as a thank you for your kindness." he rasps out, gesturing for you to take the money.

you jump back from him as if he was holding a hot poker. "oh, no no! i was happy to do it - you looked like a wet cat anyways," you say giggling.

at the look of persistence on his face, you step closer to him before taking his hand in yours and curling his fingers into his fist. "keep the money. but, i will take a different thank you from you."

nanami feels the same feeling of warmth surge through his chest at the feeling of your hand holding his. "what is it?"

"your name. and the promise that you'll come back preferably on a day that you're in a better mood." you squeeze his hand gently before stepping back again.

he stills. this was a different change of pace than what he was used to. "nanami. and yours?" he questions gently.

you tell him your name before poking him, "you are going to come back, right nanami?"

at every touch of yours, nanami feels himself burning. god, what was wrong with him? was he running a fever already?

absently, he nods before grabbing his briefcase once more. "the rain has lessened, i'll be going now. thank you again."

you frown before nodding, noticing his half-hearted reply to your previous question. nanami pauses in the door way before looking back at you. "i'll see you soon, y/n."

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

soon did not come soon enough. evidently, nanami had gotten sick from his trek in the rain despite the warm clothes you had given him later. he spent a week being out of commission from work, spending the week knowing only the areas of his bed and kitchen. soup and then sleep, soup then sleep, soup sleep. that was how the first week had gone.

the second week went past with him (regretfully) playing catch up at work. nearly at the end of each work day, he was well into his overtime hours with the sky outside looking dark and full of stars. bombarded with file after file, he never got the chance to take up his promise of seeing you again.

the third week rolled around and that was when nanami found himself stood outside the doors to the cafe, rain pattering against the awning.

it was raining again, albeit not as hard as the day he had met you. the sky was gray and gloomy, hinting at the future of a harsh storm to come, but for now all the clouds had to offer was a light drizzle of rain.

nanami took a small breath before he stepped forward. the door let out a small chime to indicate his entrance. he heard your voice before he saw you, "hello! welcome to- nanami!"

you popped your head over the counter and waved at him. he made his way to the front of the counter, his eyes taking you in completely from head to toe. he cleared his throat before speaking, "hello. i apologize for not coming sooner, i fell ill and then i had to do the remaining leftover work the week after and it was hectic and i would have liked to come sooner but-"

he breaks off at the sound of your bright laughter and he feels his breath catch at the sight of you. you're laughing. at him, sure, but you're laughing wholeheartedly and it is the most beautiful sound nanami has ever heard. he feels his mouth run dry, unsure of what to do now.

you reach out to grasp his hand that was lain on the counter and give it a gentle squeeze. "you don't have to explain yourself to me, i'm just glad you're here again, nanami!"

he gives your hand a soft squeeze back before allowing a smile to creep up on his face. "buut, you can make it up to me in one way." you say, before pulling away from him and returning to make drinks at the bar. it was slow during this time of day, so you had time to chat with him and still make drinks whenever orders did come.

nanami tilted his head questioningly before entertaining your question. "and what would that be?"

you slide over a cardboard to-go cup, filled with too sweet tea. on the side, scrawled in messy sharpie was your number paired with a cheesy pickup line. "go out with me?" you ask with a smile.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

the sun's rays were filtering through the clouds and descending stripes of lights onto nanami's face. he squints against the brightness, putting a hand over his forehead to block it off. it's raining still - but the kind of rain that's light and partnered with sunshine and a bright sky. a combination of sun and rain - a symphony of light and peace.

he supposed he couldn't complain too much about the weather - at least it was sunny outside. he stood at the door of your locked bakery, waiting for you to come out. in his hands he was holding a bouquet of flowers - lilies, baby's breath, marigolds, ferns - wrapped together in brown parchment paper. he had told the florist reluctantly of his nervousness and desire to make a good impression on you and the florist hadn't disappointed. nanami only hoped that you liked it as well.

he was just about to start counting the water droplets racing down the window pane when you exited the bakery, the door's bell jangling to ring out your presence.

once more, nanami felt his breath catch. he took you in, every single aspect of you. every strand of your styled hair, your put together outfit, the way your graceful hands fidgeted as you presented yourself to him.

"you're here. you look..." he trails off, unsure of how to encapsulate your beauty in one word.

despite your nervousness, you still find the pocket of time to tease him. "oh? how do i look?"

"stunning." he says solemnly, feeling his face flush at the vulnerability of his words. he reaches out for your hand and brings it to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss upon your knuckles. "absolutely beautiful." he murmurs against your hand.

you feel your face heat up at his words and the feel of his lips on your hand. trying to calm your racing heart, you gesture to the rain, dropping gently on the sidewalk just a few feet past from the shelter of the awning you two stood under. "it's raining again...i feel like i only see you when it's raining nanami."

he hums in thought before replying, "i suppose rainy days are our days then." he hands you the bouquet of flowers before offering you his arm for you to wrap your hand around.

"shall we, love?"

"we shall." you say, curling your hand around his arm. smiling into your flowers, the two of you set off in the light rain and into the start of your first date. the first of many.

© shotosjupiter. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[kasunex]

I've noted in a few posts that there are some weird overlaps between the Yukari-Aigis situation in Persona 3 and Eupha-Gallica situation in Metaphor. I can only really theorize, but it makes sense if it comes down to the genesis of thinking in the development process.

With Persona 3, developer statements have lead me to think the evolution went someone like this:

Prototype Makoto and Yukari are created with the intention of making them a couple.

The decision is made to add dating sim elements. So as not to override player choice in the matter, Yukari's role is reimagined. They'll still tease them a bit, but it's now up to player choice if Makoto reciprocates Yukari's interest.

Meanwhile, enter Aigis. They want her arc to start with her focused on Makoto to create mystery and intrigue. If you make Aigis a tank or a man, this is more likely to creep people out. Make her a cute anime girl and the player will be presumably find her interest more palatable, even flattering.

Hashino wants to make the rooftop scene based on his experience with his wife, but it will be a ton of work and a ton of money to have every potential love interest in the game do it. So stick to one, and who else but Aigis? They've already decided to relegate Yukari as optional, so Aigis is the only other girl that would fit. She's a robot, too, so people aren't going to see her the same as other love interests.

Except, now we have a cute girl hyperfocused on the protagonist who is also going to be the only one with him when he dies. This is starting to sound like a canon love interest, but how would they turn back at this point?

If anything, they now have to dig in deeper, because if they want that final scene to really hit players even though it's not with their chosen girl, they have to justify it in the story.

The rest, is of course history. They started with a canon love interest, reneged, and then ultimately came full circle due to the practical needs of the story.

With Metaphor, I'm going even more out on a limb, but I suspect this is how it went down.

Eupha is imagined as a love interest to Will and spiritual successor to Aigis. However, the developers don't want this to be a love story, so her relationship with Will is downplayed, relegated to her follower link, and she herself is pushed to the back of the game.

Enter Gallica. They want a navigator mascot similar to Morgana in Persona 5, but they need to rethink a few details. Nobody is going to call Morgana as Ren's love interest, but players also had...mixed feelings on Morgana.

So, why not make the navigator a cute girl, right? They'll make her a fairy - that fits the fantasy setting. And hey, they'll also make her much more openly affectionate than Morgana or the infamous Navi from Zelda was. This will probably make her more popular among players.

Except, now, we're in the position that Will is spending 90% of his time affectionately tethered to a cute fairy girl...this is starting to sound like a love interest...

Well, luckily there's no need to define it definitively one way or another, so we'll just let the player go about it as they will.

Given this, it will be interesting to see how things develop further for Metaphor's likely inevitable spin-offs.

In Persona 3's case, the manga did try to reverse course, but they couldn't make Yukari work as the love interest without changing the story too much. Thus all future installments just pushed Aigis and Makoto to the point this eventually became accepted by the fandom.

Only time will tell if Metaphor will go down a similar path, maintain the status quo, or reverse expectations.

[crossovergeek2005]

Finished up a parody clip!

So I finished up a clip for a potential crossover parody I'll probably end up writing later on Ao3 or Wattpad or some place.

Essentially, it's a clip from a crossover parody of Frozen (not my favorite Disney animated film, but still worthy of parodies somehow), but more specifically, a parody of the sleigh ride scene.

The two characters involved in the clip are Denahi (Brother Bear) (Denahi's playing Anna in the parody) and John Silver (Treasure Planet) (Silver's playing Kristoff in the parody) (My top two favorite Disney Experimental Era "antagonists"! In a pairing! What do you know? Sounds whack, but hey, they fit the vibes here, so why the heck not?)

Here's the clip (hopefully, it shows up for y'all):

Haven't posted it on YT yet, as you can tell.

But if I do, here's the thumbnail I'll use (Titleless for now, but will add a title if I end up posting this to YT):

(Yes, I edited this on MS Paint. Don't ask XD)

Also, this will be an AU of Brother Bear as well! (And it'll take place several months after the events of Treasure Planet!)

Here's the cast so far:

Denahi (Brother Bear) as Anna

Kenai (Brother Bear) as Elsa

Either an OC or Atka (Brother Bear 2) as Hans

John Silver (Treasure Planet) as Kristoff

Morph (Treasure Planet) as Sven

I don't have anyone else yet, and also, I'm debating whether to put an actual character as Olaf, or whether to double cast Morph as both Sven and a sorta-Olaf. I'll figure it out as I go along with this, though!

Here's the idea for the parody:

-Denahi is 21 in the parody; Kenai remains the good ol' age of 16, though! (also, Sitka is 24 in the parody)

-Most of the events of Brother Bear leading up to Kenai's transformation remain the same

-The difference? Since Denahi met his love interest, he spends some time after Kenai's ceremony with that person, so he doesn't notice the basket wasn't tied up and got stolen until it's too late (so the bear doesn't get killed this time (and neither does Sitka, thank goodness!))

-Rather, Kenai and Denahi argue due to the fact that the latter got engaged to someone he just met, and Sitka tries to break up the argument, but to no avail (as in Kenai's ice powers go out of control before anything could cool down (no pun intended))

-Kenai doesn't just run away due to his powers going out of control; He also discovered the bear stole the basket, and decided to go after it

-Kenai DOES transform into a bear, but he can also shapeshift from bear to human if he wants (though he stays as a bear a bunch of the time, only turning into a human when needed (like in the scene where Denahi finally finds him)

-Because John Silver is involved, Denahi obviously doesn't go after Kenai alone, nor does he try and hunt his bear self down

-Speaking of Silver, he initially went to Alaska to hide from the Royal Navy, but he was quickly taken in by a group of...something (No idea who should be the Trolls yet) as a sort of refugee, and he's allowed to hide with them in case the Navy does go to the specific location

-How did Morph join Silver here? Let's just say he figured out where Silver went and somehow managed to join him on Earth (maybe Jim dropped him off or something and promised to come back for him later)

-Since this implies the events of BB happen in the far future instead of the past in this parody, it also implies a small part of humanity decided to go back to more prehistoric methods of living to avoid whatever caused most of humanity to evacuate Earth (in the parody)

I'll add more notes as I go about this!

Will I include the songs of Frozen in the parody? Probably not.

But if I do write this parody, I'll let you guys know and I'll post the link here on Tumblr! :D

[mariacallous]

So risky has the Red Sea become since Houthi militants started their attacks on shipping that, since late November, over 350 container ships—plus all manner of tankers, bulk carriers, car carriers, and other merchant vessels—have diverted to other routes. That means massive logistical challenges that involve not just new charts and more fuel but getting crews and cargo to alternative staging posts. Because shipping is extraordinarily efficient, most won’t notice a thing. But if the attacks on shipping continue, we’ll start paying for the service. And we would do well to anticipate Houthi-like campaigns in other waters.

Not a day passes without more turbulence in the Red Sea. Since Christmas Eve, the inlet that links countries including Egypt and Saudi Arabia has seen multiple Houthi attacks, including against a Swiss-owned container ship and a Norwegian tanker.

Drama in the Red Sea is, of course, nothing new, going all the way back to the biblical book of Exodus. Yet today’s users of the Red Sea can’t hope for divine intervention. To be sure, the U.S. military has launched Operation Sea Guardian to protect Red Sea shipping, and since Christmas Eve the force has, among other things, shot down 12 attack drones and five missiles launched by the Yemen-based, Iran-backed Houthis. But counterfire from Western navies in response to Houthi attacks doesn’t yield the sort of chartable sailing environment shipping lines need. It may help solve the problem in the long-term, but it does little right now.

What’s more, it’s unclear which ships can expect escort. The French Navy seems to prioritize French-flagged vessels, but—as I have often discussed in Foreign Policy’s pages—most vessels sail under a flag of convenience, are owned in one country and managed in another, have foreign crew members, and carry cargo between altogether other places.

What qualifies as a U.S., or French, or Norwegian vessel in the Red Sea can be deeply uncertain. And shipping—and most importantly, the insurers—is all about reducing risk. That means the largest shipping lines have instead begun diverting their ships to other routes. By Dec. 24, some 280 box ships had already been rerouted, as had lots of tankers, bulk carriers, car carriers, and other merchant vessels. (By Dec. 27, Maersk and CMA CGM had announced they would gradually returning to the Red Sea—but if the situation continues to deteriorate they can divert again.)

That means a sudden procession of ships taking the much longer route via the Cape of Good Hope on South Africa’s southwestern coast. “Shipping companies are extremely busy right now,” Cormac McGarry, a maritime analyst at consultancy Control Risks, told Foreign Policy. “They’ve been working over Christmas, changing routes. The first thing that happens when you divert is the legal aspect—a clause in shipping contracts allows shipping lines to divert if there’s a war risk. And then you have to decide where to divert your ships to.” The Cape of Good Hope route, which the Suez Canal’s construction once made redundant for long-distance cargo, is suddenly en vogue again.

As large parts of the global public now know, traveling via the Cape of Good Hope rather than the Suez Canal adds an additional 10 to 12 days of sailing—and a completely different route for captains and their top lieutenants to chart. But that’s perhaps the easiest part. “Planning a new route doesn’t take much time when working with electronic charts, but rounding the Cape does bring new considerations,” a senior officer who works on the largest types of container ships told Foreign Policy.

Those new, and thorny, considerations include getting crews and cargo to where they need to be—because, in many cases, ships’ current crews are scheduled to finish their rotations and other seafarers are waiting to take over. ��If you’re going around South Africa, you may need to stop somewhere during the journey for bunkering and change of crews,” McGarry pointed out. “And if you’re changing a crew out of somewhere in southern Africa rather [than] somewhere around Suez, you need to change where they fly to and from.”

McGarry said ordinarily ships might change crews and cargo near the canal; now, the changes will need to occur in places such as Mombasa, Kenya; Durban, South Africa; Dar es Salaam, Tanzania; or Gran Canaria, one of Spain’s Canary Islands. Just before Christmas, Mombasa and Dar es Salaam were reporting a massive spike in ship arrivals; in the case of Dar es Salaam, the sudden rush had resulted in a 16-day wait to refuel. “ [Diversion] can be done, and the shipping lines are doing,” McGarry said. “But it brings additional costs.”

Those costs are there whatever route the ships take: Journeys through the Red Sea bring hefty war risk premiums, and the Cape of Good Hope route brings additional fuel costs, not to mention the costs of rerouting crews and cargo. Several shipping lines have already imposed surcharges for their services. The delays and extra costs may, in fact, merely be the first chapter in the geopolitically connected turbulence facing global shipping and, as a result, the globalized economy.

The Red Sea turbulence is also bringing trouble to nearby countries. With ships spending as little time as possible in the Red Sea, countries such as Sudan and Eritrea—whose only ports are located on the Red Sea—will struggle to get ships to call at their ports. Egypt, the custodian of the Suez Canal, is already suffering. And with less traffic through the canal, shipping to Mediterranean countries such as Greece, Italy, and Turkey will become especially cumbersome.

Iran, in fact, seems to have concluded that the Houthis’ experiment in the Red Sea has been so successful that it bears repeating in the Mediterranean. “They shall soon await the closure of the Mediterranean Sea, [the Strait of] Gibraltar and other waterways,” Brig. Gen. Mohammad Reza Naqdi, the coordinating commander of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, told Iranian media on Dec. 23, apparently referring to the international community.

Spare a thought for the world’s seafarers and shipping logisticians—there’s no holiday break for 2024’s troubled waters.

[tobias-nf]

2023 recap and 2024 plans.

Hey everyone, this year turned out to be a bit bumpy for my deskspace projects. Starting with the Iris Aluminum Edition, which ran into shipping troubles before the cases were even put up for sale (apparently the 3rd party shipping agent for the manufacturer used counterfeit shipping labes [link]). Most of this batch couldn't be recovered and because of that a new set of cases was made as a replacement which delayed availability until late November. Keebio did use this as an opportunity to add two new colors into the fold, one of them being navy blue and it's the one I ended up getting.

I also had some trouble with the keycaps for this build. Back in May I pre-ordered GMK Peach Blossom which was supposed to ship by Q3 2023 but there's an ongoing dispute between the EU vendor of this set, MyKeyboard.eu and GMK (there's also quite a few more GMK sets that are also affected by this), unfortunately I only found out about all of this well after I had already paid for the keycaps. In the last update from mid October MyKeyboard.eu stated that they had reached an agreement to have some of the keycap sets released, this batch of a dozen or so sets didn't include Peach Blossom and it's been radio silence on this issue ever since. I considered refunding the pre-order but other people have been reporting that it takes forever to get your money back (if you get it back at all) so I dediced to just write it off as a loss and if MyKeyboard.eu does manage to sort things out maybe I'll still get the keycaps sometime in the future.

So with the original keycaps I had in mind stuck in limbo I decided to replace them with another set and got GMK Yuri (the monocolor Skydata base specifically). In hindsight it's kinda odd from me to not have gone for the Soviet Aeronautics themed keycap set in the first place. I think when I started looking for fitting keycaps earlier this year I wanted to have different colors for accents and the additional kit that would've made the standard Yuri base kit work better with split boards was already sold out and I dismissed it based on that.

Despite all these woes along the way I'm here now with a really wonderful keyboard, yay! The fitment on the aluminum case is excellent, the seam between the upper and lower halves is barely noticabley when you run your finger along it and the anodization on the outer sides is literally spotless. GMK Yuri has also massively grown on me with it's pale, light blue that's reminiscent of the cockpits from 80s Sukhoi aircraft, there were some initial worries that the orange legends on the keycaps would make for a harsh contrast based on the renders from the store page but the colors on the real ones actually mesh well together. On the board I have some Witch Girl switches from Mintlodica. This makes it my first tactile board and it feels really great to type on, the little bump on these switches also solved the accidental double taps that were a continued issue on my linear Tofu60 even after years of typing with it.

Adjusting to the split ergo typing experience has been relatively easy to my surprise. The largest hurdle was getting used to enter and backspace being on the thumb cluster but after roughly two weeks it started feeling very natural, now I actually think that those keys are much better placed here compared to where they'd be on a regular keyboard. Having a bit of distance between the two halves also corrected my old bad habit of never using right shift and typing with arms parallel is very comfortable. I dont think I type as fast as on my old Tofu60 yet but even so, the improvements in ergonomics that the Iris offers would not have me switch back to it.

I've also had some trouble laying the groundwork for the PC case swap I want to do next year as the case I've been eyeing, the Yuel Beast Motif Monument isn't being produced anymore and subsequently sold out (there are actually multiple copycat versions of this case but none of them seem like they match the original in build quality or aesthetics). Being an open frame made from a single sheet of bent steel would've made for a really unique looking PC, it would also avoid most of the clearance issues that usually come with small form factor cases and would even allow for easy maintenance of the eventual custom loop I want to build for this project.

While open cases/frames like this are a great showcase for components that also offer excellent thermal performance they do come with some notable downsides. The most obvious one being dust, for me this would've been a non-issue as there isn't a lot of buildup in my room and I clean my desk once a week with an electric duster anyway. The big issue that actually made me somewhat glad the Monument isn't an option is that I discovered that there's a ton of static buildup in my doom during the winter. At first it was a bit of static rustling coming from my IE 300 In-ear monitors alongside Windows showing some sort of USB disconnect error message whenever I stood up at my desk, something I originally dismissed as the IEMs or the extension cable they're attached to being damaged (the Sennheiser IE 300's dont exactly have a stellar reputation when it comes to durability). Then one day after getting off my chair not only did the usual problems occur but my monitor also completely glitched out, for a moment I thought my GPU had died but fortunately everything fixed itself after turning the power on and off a few times, this event convinced me that I was dealing with some sort of ESD issue. Since this happened I've been a lot more mindful about the humitidy in my room and make sure to ground myself properly before doing anything at my desk, this mostly resolved the problems from what I can tell but I fear that my room would not make for a good enviroment to run an open frame build in.

So with the Motif Monument unavailable and my now higher caution around electrostatic discharge the current plan is to get a FormD T1 (I always knew it in my heart that my SFF journey would have me build in one of these sooner or later). I did completely miss that there was some kind of dispute between the people behind the T1 at some point and now the case is now being sold on two, very similar named websites. The original one hasn't had a restock for a while it seems but the other, newer storefront has had some variants of the case consistently availabe so hopefully I wont have trouble getting one sometime early next year.

A smaller addition to the desk this year are two of these bookshelves that I placed to the left and right under my monitor, they're from this shop on Etsy [link]. Made from a single piece of bent steel (like the unobtainable Motif Monument) and coated in a pale, almost pastel green they fill the previously empty space nicely even with the monitor hiding a bit of their top.

I'm super glad I found them as I began reading manga this year, starting (unsurprisingly perhaps) with Laid-Back Camp which made me fall in love with that series all over again, the art of the original is just incredibly beautiful (not that the C-Station adaptation doesn't look great or anything, it's more that the manga really stands on its own in a way that could not have been adapted into motion). In addition to that K-On!'s four main volumes were something I enjoyed very much, a bit to my surprise as I heard people weren't huge on the four-panel style in comparison to the anime. I'm looking foward to continuing my Laid-Back journey throughout next year and also starting Bocchi the Rock!, all while filling my fancy new bookshelves along the way.

So this wraps up 2023 for me, despite a few hick-ups I'm pretty happy with how my deskspace evolved over the past twelve months. The PC case swap and the custom loop that will be built around it are shaping up to become a pretty massive task, so 2024 is already looking like it'll be very busy but I'm looking forward to sharing my progress on all of it in due time.

(≧◡≦)

[yamagucji]

some tips for writing blogs, especially those who are just starting out. these are some things that works for me and may or may not work for others.

how to add a read more link on mobile

type :readmore: on a free space, then hit the enter or return button

personally i think they’re very helpful because it lessens the space you take up in your dash, and might encourage more people to rb

+ you can also add this on a spot where it gives a sort of cliffhanger, essentially making people want to ‘read more’

headers, banners, and dividers

though not necessary, it’s good to have a title for your work. make sure it’s bold and doesn’t blend in with your notes (aka pairing, warnings, etc.). this also helps when someone wants to look up one of your works in your search bar

i don’t really make banners or covers for my works. but some good apps that i know of would be picsart and canva. if you’re looking for ideas, i definitely recommend going into canva

wondering how to make those really small, thin dividers? you can make them using picsart! to make a divider hit tools > free crop > brush > size (adjust it to your preference > then draw a line along the edge of your photo > save

using the divider you just saved, go back to picsart and edit it again > draw option > hit rainbow square at the bottom left corner > hit suction/droplet symbol right below the check mark > color in the white spots bc for some reason picsart glitches and makes dividers look white-ish

new blog? just opened an account?

this is gonna sound really frustrating. but... tumblr needs to check if you’re a bot or not. what does this mean? it’s likely that your first few posts won’t show up on the search bar. you may not even get to edit your header/pfp yet ://

this happened to me and there was no visibility on my account at ALL. what helped me get ‘verified’ is that i followed a LOT of accounts, liked a bunch of posts, made some posts here and there. now that lets tumblr know you’re not a bot

visibility

the tumblr tagging system usually only allows the first 5 tags in your post to show up. so, what can do you about this? only use FIVE or less tags in your post. wait about 15 minutes or more until you can add some more tags in your post, and they usually all show up like that

another important thing about using tags is not to generalize! especially if you’re using a popular tag. but also don’t specify it too much where barely anyone looks it up. for example, if you’re writing a gn piece about oikawa, i recommend you use the tags such as: oikawa x reader, haikyuu x reader, oikawa x gn!reader, haikyuu headcanons, etc

a good rule of thumb is to use character x reader tags first, then leave the full name or fandom tag last

FOR NSFW: tumblr doesn’t let any tags with nsfw show up. so, give your nsfw works another tag. maybe #namegetspicy idk, you figure it out

FOR WARNINGS: especially if you’re a dark content creator, i highly encourage you to add tw:xyz tags. if you already have a warning note at the top then that’s great. but even better for readers who prefer to actually block these tags that way they never get to see it

another important thing to note is that people have different timezones. it helps if you rb your work at a different time of the day, in case people missed it! (icymi) i’ve noticed that reblogging helps to make your post show up in the tags

interaction + feedback

first and foremost, you are not obligated to write for your followers, and neither are your followers obligated to interact with you. remember that everyone has their own individual lives, and they have their own things to do— so do you, too.

make friends! become mutuals with other writers, visit their ask box. i know it can be daunting having to initiate these things, but you might just turn out to have fun! you can’t expect people to interact with you if you’re not interacting (back). it’s... kind of a two way thing yk? no need to be afraid to interact with other writers. oh, and rb other writers works!

pspsps join tag games or do ask games. it’s fun and very interactive

it never hurts to ask for feedback. i usually do this in a more subtle way because i don’t really expect a full on analysis on my works. maybe a little, is this okay? or feedback appreciated. sometimes it takes a little bit of coaxing for the silent readers

formatting your posts and blog

i generally put in the title at the top in big, bold letters

then comes the header/divider. helps to make the post more... visually appealing ig?

it’s important to add warnings (if any) and the pairing. the audience is not all female, and it might be a little frustrating for male readers having to find out its an x fem reader piece like halfway through your fic

if you have multiple works posted, it’s really really helpful to have a navigation page!

you can organize the posts you make with tags! for example, if you’re shitposting, you can use a specific tag for that. if you have a nsfw related post (ESPECIALLY when your blog is open to the general audience) please make a tag for it

themes + colors

if you have a color in mind but don’t know which direction to go from there, i recommend looking up color + aesthetic

looking to use the same color? download a name color app that’ll give you a hex code for any color you want to use. then, you can type in that hex code for when you’re choosing a color for your tumblr bio

wondering how to make your header image small like mine? just choose a photo for your header and turn off the stretch image option

want to use a different text color that tumblr doesn’t offer? it’s not as complicated as you think. you’ll have to go on a desktop to do this and do some html (but trust me, it’s not very difficult). look up “HTML noob but trying my best - how to use colored text on desktop”

^^ i don’t have the link for the color text tutorial so you can try looking it up

how to make an aesthetic navi and masterlist

step 1: decide a theme! if you’re stuck, think about a character + color/season/mood or look up “[insert] aesthetic” to find some inspiration. or you can try looking at other blogs too

step 2: find a color scheme! it’s easier if you choose fewer colors. if you want to use the same color for both divider and text, download a color name app in order to get the hex code of that color.

step 3: add categories to your navi! most navigation pages include a link to masterlist, about/byi, and rules. your navi should have a title that indicates that it’s... a navigation page. you can add thin colored dividers with the same color to make it easier for followers to navigate

step 4: you can choose to create a ‘cover’ or a picture for your navigation and masterlist! again, i recommend you use the canva app as a starting point

extra: search up emoticon symbols to spice up your titles!

reminder for you as a writer

you’re not obligated to do any of these things. i’ve noticed that we tend to build pressure on ourselves when it comes to content and interaction. remember, this !! is !! for !! fun !! when you realize that it’s no longer fun, then know that it’s time to take a break. and there’s nothing wrong with a bit of self care.

^^ c/p from this post lol

at the end of the day, follower count and interaction doesn’t define you. again for the love of beings, you’re here on your own accord.

will be adding more if needed/asked.

[pollyna]

00Q masterlist (teen and up audiences)

Here the link to the masterpost: click. On it then i'm going to add all the links to the "smaller" lists and add ff directly here. Sorry for the confusion and impracticality :)

All tags and general rules added for the masterpost are valid here.

Post-coital Breakfast by Castillon02 (1,1k)

Bond convinces Q that he had only the purest of motives when he snuck downstairs to make French toast on the morning after.

-

a matter of waking up first and doing it again!

very important business by hiljainen (1,1k)

“Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I don’t have time.”

It’s funny – Bond had somehow imagined this conversation going the other way around.

-

Remember gents sleeping is important!!! Domesticity is just as beautiful as ever. sappy fic :')

With These Hands by christinefromsherwood (1,2k)

The first time it had happened, James thought it was just a coincidence.

It might have been bad luck the second, third and fourth time.

But to have Q text him about not being able to leave for another couple of hours because of 009 breaking the decontamination shower in Lab 4, just as he was about to head down to Q Branch to pick Q up for their fifth attempt at a date… Well, James Bond didn’t live to retirement age because he ignored his instincts and suspicious incidents.

-

A lesson on why people should learn to mind their own buisness.

A Thousand Words' Worth by blackidyll (1,4k)

"I'll send you a postcard."

"Please don't."

Because Bond is infuriating, he sends them along anyway.

-

please do. and he does. Bond and his strange way to flirt with Q pt.64446544645465487651

With a Golden Hand by Your Fortress by Mia_Zeklos (1,5k)

They all tell him that he shouldn’t worry - as 003 had put it, ‘the double-oh agents are a little like vampires – if you haven’t found a body, don’t assume that they’re dead’.

-

Bond goes MIA and 003 knows better than most but not better than Q.

Old Friends and Ill-Advised Aliases by soufflegirl91 (1,5k)

Q was less than happy at the prospect of joining 007 on a mission in Singapore. His mood was not improved when he found out they'd be attending a fancy reception with some of Bond's old Navy chums. And when he saw the alias one of his minions thought was a good idea for a joke? Well, that was just the icing on the cake.

-

grumpy Q is grumpy and no other description is needed.

Haven by Brihna (1,5k)

In the constant battle with depression, some days are worse than others. Q learns that he need not suffer alone.

-

Bond doesn't solve but helps Q and there's nothing more he could do. Q is greatful.

A Way Home by storm_of_sharp_things (1,6k)

Every few years, Bond disappears for a month’s vacation, rumored to be somewhere exotic, secluded, and with very attractive house staff. There’s another one coming up and Q has not been invited. Seems navigating a new relationship can be tricky.

-

people should really learn when to shut up, but in this case, it helped even if it's not what Q was expecting.

I'm Running Out of Heart Today by Equinoxe (1,8k)

The first time Q saw 007, colours got more vivid.

Blue and coral sky of that painting, the gallery’s wallpaper in teal, the dark navy coat that fitted the agent oh so perfectly, and those blue, blue eyes that he only caught a glimpse of. Everything was a burst of hues, powerful and bright, even so that when he thought back to the day, as he often did, it would feel like he could have seen the colours of those snarky words if he had squinted.

He would fall for James Bond long after, but if he was being very honest to himself, he was far gone from day one.

-

sort-of-soulmates au? happy ending even when Q thinks it ended before it started

Drive You Home by enigma_kar (2k)

A re-write of the ending of Spectre. In which Bond returns for Q, not just his car, and discovers that Q needs him more than ever. And maybe he needs Q too.

-

a fix-it of the SPECTRE we never saw bc they decided to take off that part of the script. how things could have been if

Legends (You're Human Tonight) by ShowMeAHero (2,1k)

Bond comes to Q's flat to give him a mission update, which is very unnecessary, but very, very welcome.

-

coming back home is like taking a deep breath and feel peace for a little while

A Friendly Wager by hyphyp (2,1k)

Moneypenny and a Q branch minion make a bet about Q and Bond for some nail polish, among other things.

-

Assumptions are rarely right but at least Moneypenny got a girlfriend out of this mess?

unknown algorithm by snsk (2,1k)

in which Bond has traitorous feet, Tom Fords and self-trust issues, and Q has a (sinfully pretty) mouth on him.

-

The rest is history, common knowledge, for the annals, and all that shit. But Q? Q is his and his alone.

Five Times Sleep Messed Things Up and One Time It Didn't by badwolfbadwolf (2,2k)

Sleep deprivation and MI6 don't mix well.

“Sleeping on the job, Quartermaster?” Bond says, and the look on his face is inscrutable.

Q huffs and takes a sip, letting the tea linger on his tongue before swallowing as he parses his response. “You’re a bloody wanker.” It comes out sounding like a petty, schoolboy insult, and Bond laughs in surprise. It makes his whole face light up genuinely, and Q looks at the way the crinkles around his lips and eyes soften him into something more palatable. He glances away before Bond can read too much into it.

-

5+1 with developing relatioship that could be consider more canon than the canon itself!

we've only lost the night by blackidyll (2,4k)

The trains and Tube lines are Q’s preferred modes of transportation, partly because he doesn’t need to be in control when he takes either and partly because of how they are constructed, the stations connected to each other like points on a beautiful mind map. Q has his preferred routes, but the established lines of connection still allow him to navigate London through dozens of different configurations.

Bond though, Bond is a wild spirit. The independence of cars and aviation gives him the freedom to do as he pleases – no restrictions, no limits save the ones he places on himself, where he has complete control of the situation.

That Q is here, sitting in the passenger seat like the best kind of insurance, is the one limit Bond chooses to put on himself.

-

Going home after a mission :)

bloom on my skin, echo in my soul by Areiton (3,2k)

He learns to live with it.

With the constant bruises, with the stabbing pain echoed in his body, with the scars that never last.

With the voice that rumbles with threat but never at him.

He learns to live with it and he learns to hide it.

Do you miss me? They whisper, sometimes, and he never answers, because he doesn’t know if it would be a lie or the truth.

-

soulmates!AU that made my heart soft and when it hurt in all the right ways and sent me in creating 5788547 prompts from a single sentece.

A Modest Proposal by Tokyo_the_Glaive (3,3k)

Or, five times Bond asked Q to marry him, and one time Q beat him to the punchline.

-

5+1 and it's a joy.

Have Yourself An MI:6 Christmas by prince_benji (3,3k)

It's the most wonderful time of the year, and what's Christmas without a little prank between friends? OR The one where Q is clueless but gets clued-up.

-

Eve is a devious godess, Q is clusless and a lil awkard and jumpers will do the trick!

Anchor in a Stormy Sea by Tokyo_the_Glaive (3,4k)

At three o’clock in the morning approximately six months after Bond’s return from Kazan, Russia, M received word that the unthinkable had happened.

“Someone hacked our system,” Tanner told her, speaking a little too fast.

(Or, the one where Bond meets Q before he becomes Q.)

-

AU: different first meeting. Another of my favourite au's in this fandom like I could read a lot of it if someone would write HAHHA Q is there before everything else, but not before Vesper, and Bond is protective of him like he's of England. Two dorks in love.

The Healing Process by totalizzyness (3,8k)

Bond has a difficult mission and Q comforts him.

-

sometimes all you need is comfort.

love begins at home by seektheinfinite (3,8k)

It’s almost painful watching his cats’ distress at being turfed off of Bond; Q has to stop himself from giving in and letting Bond stay.

It starts with a cat. There's a lot of weirdness in-between. The end is something completely unexpected.

-

domestic fluff and we all know Bon is basically a human version of a cat. Stealth dating in the tags is the perfect reference.

Evelyn by Tokyo_the_Glaive (3,9k)

Evelyn.

That’s the name that appeared on Bond’s skin when he was about twelve and a half. He hadn’t expected to get one at all—the name of one’s soulmate rarely appears so late—but for days after the letters emerge from under his skin, he stared at them as best as he could.

The name wasn’t hard to see. It was written on his chest, just down from his left shoulder. He would trace the letters as a child and wonder.

“Evelyn,” Kincade said. “I’m sure she’s a very pretty lady, eh?”

-

AU: your soulmates' name on your skin.

honestly i could have read a book with this prompt. it's so so good, angst and fluff and wanting to protect someone you don't even know but it's yours in more way you can really understand.

Watercolour Morning by BootsnBlossoms (4,2k)

Trigger, from the Dutch trekken — to pull or draw.

Bond didn’t know the woman who screamed. He could care less about the idiot of a cabbie who’d nearly clipped her. The scattering of brightly-colored store packages from the woman’s arms would perhaps have been entertaining if he was in place to be entertained. In fact, if Bond hadn’t been locked in paralysing, consuming fear, he probably would have been deeply amused at the woman kicking the cab’s bumper in retaliation for scaring her so thoroughly.

Fucking trigger. Fucking pull.

-

it's about ptsd and about having someone who can help at the end of the day, even when you think you're all alone in the world.

When You're Not Here, I'm Suffocating by crescentmoonthemage (4,5k)

It doesn't come as a slow thing, but rather a freight train, crashing BANG SMASH into Q's mind and speeding up his heartbeat and dominating his every thought. He hates himself for it and he hates Bond even more, he hates the man so much for changing Q's life, for making him eggs and for talking to him and watching him work and playing video games with him.

Bond's in Q's house because for him, it feels like home.

-

Bond is in Q's house more than he's anywhere else. It sits well until it doesn't anymore but it's okay, in some ways.

A Brief Encounter by christinefromsherwood, soufflegirl91 (4,7k)

“And so I uploaded a message to all Q-branch computers: ‘I don’t know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking to get a new microwave I can tell you I don't have money, but what I do have is a very particular set of skills’.

”Pausing, Q grinned at him before continuing with his terrible Liam Neeson impression:

“‘Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you stop exploding scrambled eggs in the microwave now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you, but if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you.’ And then I left for the weekend, and on Monday Internal Investigations called me in to ‘explain myself’, which I did, but they don’t have any sense of humor, so not only did they recommend I ‘take a short holiday’ but they strongly suggested we won’t be seeing a new microwave in the next two years at least.”

It’s shaping up to be the perfect post-first-date evening. Or is it?

-

Q talks and talks and talks and James listens even when he's lost about what they're talking about. It's the end of their first date and now?

Arrangements and Engagements by notoneforreality (5k)

Q was hoping that this particular aspect of upper class society would never apply to him, but now his parents are marrying him off before he can disgrace the family name, and there are so many reasons that he hates this whole situation. Then Bond walks in, and he can't decide if this is better or worse.

James has been flirting with Q for a year, but when that falls through he ends up involved in his old family social circle, and something's wrong. While he's not in the field, he might look into this marriage proposal more closely.

-

I would love to read another 100k of this trope bc I seriously love it and it's so well developed! transphobia in this one, fucking parents.

this madness of miracles (escaping the burning wait) by Rosslyn (5,2k)

“Oh shut up,” Q snaps, irate. “Don’t doubt me. I can think of forty-seven ways to fix this, just off the top of my head. Get off the island.”

-

NO TIME TO DIE fix-it: falling in love after is all part of the ongoing project of killing what is making it impossible to James to touch his child. (or, what i was waiting for Q to say in the movie.)

Pen and Paper by Salios (5,3k)

Q wrung his hands anxiously, teeth gnawing at his lower lip. It was a bad habit, biting his lip, but he couldn’t help it when he was nervous. And he really did have reason to be nervous. Well, excited to the point of nearly crippling nervousness, actually. Today he’d finally get to meet his boyfriend of three years.

For the first time ever.

-

Oh, oh this one is soft, full of misunderstandings and long-distance relationship! Homophobia mentioned AND JAMES BOND IN HIS NAVY UNIFORM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Home by quartermasterandhisagent (5,3k)

Q always monitors James Bond's missions, until the one time he doesn't. It goes about as well as expected.

-

MI6 never learned how to deal with Bond until Q and then they had the genius idea to took Q out of the equation for a little while. And they learned the lesson.

The Truth in the Act by notoneforreality (5,3k)

Q is sent to a conference in Paris with Bond as his protection detail. They have to stay close for proper protection, and what better reason to stick together than going undercover as a married couple?

Q is just hoping he gets out of this alive and with his soul still inside his body.

-

the trope are just so so good: fake marriage, only one bed so sharing a bed and sharing a room. Autistic Q and soft James Bond looking out for him. so so many beautiful feelings all over it.

Easier than Riding a Bike by pikachumaniac (5,4k)

"You don’t know how to ride a bike?"

In which Q has never understood the saying "easier than riding a bike," and despite (or because of) Bond’s best attempts, he understands it even less now.

-

bike training! but with a lot of fluff in it (the final scene made me remember an episode of the ぴちぴちピッチ Pichi Pichi Pitchi, Pichi Pichi Pitch and i laughed for 5 minutes straight thinking of Q with a tail on a bike lol)

A Killer's Queen by Faramirlover (5,6k)

Q never actually meets the Double-Oh agent that bothers him with increasing regularity, but James Bond is starting to take over his world.

-

James Bond is a special snowflakes but what's new on this earth? Apparently Q didn't know

Casual Touch by Tokyo_the_Glaive (5,7k)

When you touch me, my mind is gone. The only words I know are lost inside your body.

Q is touch-starved and lonely. Bond's return to London is possibly the worst and the best thing to happen to him.

-

Every touch is different and Q loves Bond's hand on him.

Leverage by Beginte (5,7k)

“Fine,” Gorev lifts the gun. “Sometimes, there are worse things than death, yes?” he strolls back over to the table, Q tipping his head back as he watches him, the words no less horrible for being annoyingly cliché. “Sometimes,” Gorev carries on in a musing tone, “sometimes it’s the suffering of others that brings the worst pain. Especially the suffering of those we care about,” he picks up another instrument from the table and tosses it at one of the henchmen stationed over James.

-

A mission goes wrong and Q and Bond both end up kidnapped. Their captor wants Q to hack into MI6 for him, and when Q refuses, he decides to try and get the right leverage - namely, to torture Bond in front of Q.

-

for once James is used as leverage on Q. warning: torture.

Strays by Kryptaria, zooeyscigar (5,8k)

Waking in the middle of the night to intercept an intruder isn't supposed to change your life, but when James Bond finds an unlikely visitor with an even more unlikely 'gift', his life with Q takes an unexpected turn.

-

about meeting the family and becoming cat dads, in the same night!

Operation Pettiness by thepeskyunicorn (6k)

If Bond's going to play dirty, he'd better get ready for a knock down, drag out fight in the mud, because Q’s got a few tricks up his sleeves and he's too stubborn to take this lying down.

Or

Bond tries to break up with Q, and Q's spectacular revenge plan.

-

Sometimes James doesn't want what's good for him. Luckily for him Q doesn't surrender that early.

i never thought we would end up like this by doctormissy (6,1k)

James and Q are undercover as a married gay couple for a mission in South Africa. What could go wrong, right?

-

undercover as a couple!fic, post-SPECTRE and it made me want to go in South Africa even more than before.

Sleep Deprivation Is No Excuse by Elenothar (6,3k)

Q doesn't sleep much. Bond makes himself a nuisance in Q-Branch because he's bored. Somehow they get a relationship out of it.

-

touch-straved Bond and insomiac Q? cuddling is the only solution to MI6,s problems.

Waiting Game by dracoroxy (6,3k)

Q waits.

He waits 12 days before he realises it wasn’t a hoax, or a diversion, or whatever else he figured Bond had up his sleeve.

At 24 days Q finishes the Walther he programmed to Bond's palm, and puts it away safely for when Bond returns.

At 40 days Q begins to wonder, with a curl in his stomach that feels a lot like dread, whether Bond will return at all.

-

Q waits and he's probably going to spend the rest of his life waiting if he has to.

Code Name Vivaldi by Kitsune_Moonstar (8,6k)

The piano that comes with James' new flat isn't something he thinks about much. At least until a mission requires him to take Q undercover with him.

-

there's a baby and a grand piano, the mission is relatively simple and James is jealous but not in this particular order.

come a lily, come a lilac by pdameron (8,4k)

"Most people just pick whatever flower they think is prettiest. It doesn’t require a lot of input from me.”

The man walks up to Q, leaning against the counter between them. “Well then, what can I do to get your input?”

 (In which Q runs a flower shop, and his newest regular is almost definitely a spy.)

-

AU: lemme introduce you to Bond needs lessons on how to communicate and Q is a lil blind when it comes to feelings but he's hella smart.

(psssssh M recives flowers!)

it doesn't take you away from yourself by scioscribe (9,2k)

Q thinks he can't imagine anything worse than three days at a conference with James Bond as his bodyguard. Bond thinks that's showing a lack of imagination. He may be right.

Or, the one where Q has a long-standing arrangement, Bond condescends to croissants and tablecloths, unresolved issues abound, and then actual serious stuff happens. Post-Spectre.

-

bodyguard!Bond for three days and Q is already in denail after the first 3 minutes but hey, at least the went from point A to somewhere-

Kitty Kitty Bang Bang by soufflegirl91 (10,9k)

Bond’s done. The last mission was a wake-up call, he’s not up to par anymore. Moneypenny could have died. After weeks of moping, help comes from an unexpected quarter -- his balcony. The old ginger tom’s got a limp, torn-up ears and a scar above his left eye. He also likes tuna and is a very good listener.

-

this fic is like a warm hug and like finally adopting the cat you're waiting for since you were 5. Even when Q misunderstood who, what, James's new friend is.

Ratios and Relevance by dhampir72 (11,1k)

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system, a machine that spies on you every hour of every day.

I know because I built it.

For the MI6 Cafe Teamwork Challenge 2016.

-

Person of interest!au I didn't know I need. + embedded video!

On the Care and Maintenance of Quartermasters by Tokyo_the_Glaive (13k)

Q gets sick just as Bond's about to be shipped to Islamabad. Bond just wants Q to get better (and possibly fall for him).

(Or, the one where Bond decides that the perfect moment to woo Q is when he's home sick.)

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Bond unconventional method on how to woo Q in the worst moment possibile. Basically another day in the office

A Game of Chance by Celyan (13,5k)

James Bond’s return to Six after a two-month holiday is merely a continuation of what makes Q’s life more challenging, but it’s not like he hasn’t got practice with dealing with troublesome double-oh agents, meddling friends, and gossiping minions, right?

—

The first thing M ever said to the new Quartermaster after 007 came back to life was, “For the love of god, whatever you do, do not fall in love with him.”

Unfortunately for Q, she said that in front of his entire branch.

The betting pool has been going on ever since.

-

M knew her chickens a little too well and there's a bet going on!

clarity by skylights (21,8k)

“Well as a general rule, one person usually wants to spend time with another because he or she would like to know more about that person in question.” Bond shrugs, nonchalant in the face of Q’s eyeroll. “Also, most people would consider it to be enjoyable as well, to have food in the process.”

“A very succinct and completely unnecessary introduction to Social Interactions 101, thank you, but you know damn well what I mean.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t. Which is another reason why this upcoming dinner is so important.”

(Or, the one with mirrors, meals, and an attempted romance. It's just a coincidence that Q has loved Bond in almost every life he's lived.)

-

AU bit of an odd au but this type of aus are the one I love the most. Mirrors are the door of the soul, right? and, sometimes, they're the literal door to what you're searching.

frail love by tomorrowsrain (15,2k)

A month after Venice (Vesper), an unraveling James Bond is assigned to help a mysterious young hacker defect from a dangerous terrorist network.

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AU post-Casino Royal. non-linear narrative, BAMF!Q, love is frail in every form and they're always gonna take a piece of the other with themselves but it's okay. a lot of action.

Playing the Part by ElektricAngel (23,1k)

James Bond comes into Q Branch after a mission with all of his equipment accounted for and in tact, and a complete mission report in Q's inbox. Q is pleasantly surprised and more than a little suspicious. Rightly so, as it happens, because Bond makes an unusual request of him. And yet, his license to kill is not the only thing that makes the man difficult to say no to...

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undercover mission as couple fic!!!!!!!

Spilled Drinks and Broken Hearts by Tokyo_the_Glaive (23,1k)

In the fallout of the Silva Incident, both Q and Bond bear scars. With no time to mourn or recover, they must carry on as best as they can. Bond and Q must learn to trust and rely on each other if they hope to make it through.

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post-Skyfall where they need time to put the pieces back together and, in the middle of this, they meet again and follow the same path together.

Portrait of a Young Man by Tokyo_the_Glaive (26,6k)

Medium, Graphite

Artist, Unknown

Q's first impression of 007: a prick with a pretty face and an appreciation for art. Q never expected to become entangled with the agent, but when an explosion, a date, and a missing agent brought 007 to Q time again and time again, he began to rethink their relationship. Unbeknownst to him, 007 had already set his eyes on Q, and nothing--not even the mysterious Blofeld--could stop him from keeping Q safe.

(Or, the one where Bond sketches Q at every available opportunity because he's rapidly falling in love, Q's just trying to get by, and no one's looking where they ought to be.)

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mission fic au!spectre goes in all another way and it's so so good. both M are here for a little while, BAMF!Moneypenny and Bond begin a little in love with Q from moment 1.

Crossing the Bar by GwynDuLac (26,9k)

The man moved with the same predatory grace he always had, and if he had aged in the past five years (it was a bit hard to tell from a subpar camera on the other side of the street) then he had aged well. Which was all entirely predictable of course. No, what had thrown Q and everyone else in the ops center who had ever met Bond or read his file was the way that he was dressed - faded blue jeans with holes in the knees, a t-shirt from some unidentifiable but probably local surf shop, and-

“Are you wearing Converse?” demanded Q before he could think better of it.

Bond’s eyes unerringly found the camera through which Q was watching, an expression of vague displeasure. “Well, I don’t generally make a habit of wearing suits to fix my boat, and I doubted you had the patience for me to change.” .

James Bond has been retired for five years. But when a highly sensitive mission goes to hell just a few miles from where he as settled down Q is forced to ask for his help. Bond and Q return easily to their old ways - they are also forced to finally confront their feelings for each other.

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Bond retires, wears a pair of Converse, saves the day and admits a truth Q needed to hear. (i love this fic.)

swear them to the sky by skylights (44,5k)

This is a story about choices. About murder. About grief. About anger and fear and hope, and all the things we end up doing because of each.

This is a story about push and pull. About dancing around each other, quartermaster to agent, cross-continent and undercover.

But above all, this is a story about spies with dragons.

(Or to be more succinct: British nationals keep dying overseas, interesting bets are being made, and some dragons think things would be a lot simpler if a certain double-oh agent would just get together with his Quartermaster already.)

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AU. The Quartermaster sees a connection where everybody else sees nothing and 007 is there to help him, for once. and dragons are there too!!!!!!!!!!!!

Freefall by blackidyll (44,9k)

Bond rolls forward, although his usual liquidly graceful movements are stiff from his injuries. Q doesn’t startle, too used to Bond’s antics over months of travelling together, although his breath does hitch when Bond sweeps his fingers under Q's glasses, brushing lightly against the dark bruises Q knows are still there.

"Think of this as a vacation,” Bond says. “You haven't stopped at all since we left London."

"A vacation," Q says incredulously. "With the scorching sun and questionable water and unreliable food supplies and a heightened chance of tropical water-borne diseases, and all my equipment sunk in the ocean."

“With the briny air and an abundance of wild and sea life and limitless possibilities," Bond counters, "without alerts or surveillance or the need to stare at a glowing screen for hours on end.”

(Post-Spectre mission fic, where the mission is to survive being stranded on a desert island, and shutting down Spectre's operations is a critical but secondary objective reserved for after they get off the island.

But when did MI6's missions ever run according to plan?)

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a mission in a mission, action, BAMF!00Q, when a vacation isn't a vacation?

Leave a Message by DLanaDHZ (47,6k)

The answering machine was just there for appearances, and yet the blinking number on it was still there, and for some reason James couldn't ignore it. In his solitary life, James never expected to connect with anyone, not at work and especially not with a civilian who was a complete stranger. But Q might be the connection he really needs, in more ways than one.

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AU: different meeting. answering machine are old stuff but they do their work here. Or, really, is all thanks to Moneypenny.

[girlboss-molina]

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 1: Introductions

AO3 Link

Words: 5543

-----

Alex POV

...

Of course. 

Of fucking course.

He’d known it was coming, yeah, but that didn’t change the fact that, despite his friendship with Princess Julie, Alex had no desire to marry her. And now, after begging not to be married off, he was still stuck in this deal.

It had nothing to do with Julie herself, of course; Julie was a kind, loving, musical girl around his age. The issue was that he was gay. Marrying a girl was not something he was interested in. 

Julie knew Alex was gay; he’d come out to her after he was sure she would accept him, which he knew she would after she mentioned her best friend being a lesbian, and her being bisexual herself. Needless to say, neither of them had been thrilled by the announcement a couple years back that they would be getting married, for more reasons than the fact that nobody wants to be in an arranged marriage. 

And now, in three months time, he would be at the alter with a girl he wasn’t in love with. 

Alex knew it wouldn’t be that bad; in fact, he and Julie were quite close friends. Their kingdoms, Tambor and Dahlia respectively, were close allies. But for some godforsaken reason, their leaders had felt the need to strengthen their allyship by setting up their heirs in an arranged marriage. Had Alex been the oldest, this wouldn’t have been the case. However, it wouldn’t be him, but his older sister, Ava, taking the throne of Tambor. 

He, along with his guards, would be travelling to Dahlia this evening. He hated that it was so soon. Not that he wasn’t excited to see Julie, he was, but it was the reason that put a knot in his stomach.

Alex allowed himself one more panic attack before getting ready. As a treat.

The warm sun streaming into his room felt out of place with the dread settling in his stomach, and his breath choked, his heart racing, salty tears streaming down his face. He clenched his hands into fists and back out, trying to calm himself despite the emotional release. His nails dug into his palm, not hard enough to cut, but enough to leave little indents that he then ran his fingertips across. 

Trying to pull himself together, he stood - albeit shakily - and walked across the soft, carpeted floor to his full-length mirror, pleasantly surprised as he noted that he wasn’t as big of a mess as he’d expected, given his previous panic. 

A knock on his door alerted him that his head butler was there to help him get ready for the jet ride.

“Your highness, are you alright?”

Alex didn’t answer, grateful for Luke’s steady voice outside his door.

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” he suggested, and Alex hoped Luke was receiving the strong thank you vibes he was trying to transmit telepathically. 

Any time Alex had a panic attack, he was semi-verbal. He could speak if he really, really tried, but it generally took a great deal of effort. He and Luke had a system, though; if Alex needed support during a panic attack, he would fake-sneeze three times, and Luke would come in from his station outside Alex’s door. 

Alex allowed himself another minute to calm his breathing and wipe the tears from his face, practicing the grounding exercise Julie had taught him. 

Inhale- 1, 2, 3, 4

Hold- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Exhale- 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

It helped a lot, and soon he was able to straighten his hair and begin changing into the suit his tailors had made just for this occasion. 

Another knock echoed from his door, and Alex took one final deep breath to compose himself. 

“Come in,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was. 

The butler entered; a kind man named Erik, who Alex had gotten to know over the past month or so. His olive skin shone in the afternoon light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

Alex dressed himself, for the most part; having butlers help him dress was never something he particularly enjoyed. He allowed Erik to smooth his white dress shirt, though; no matter how many times Alex had practiced tucking in his shirts, they always ended up wrinkled. 

He slid the navy suit vest over the shirt once it was nice and smooth, fastening the thick buttons over his stomach. Minimalistic gold embroidery on the vest sparkled in the light, and Alex couldn’t help but smile at the bit of flair. He’d been half-hoping that his matching navy pants would have a bit of sparkle as well, but to no avail. Probably for the best, he decided. Just a little touch was enough. 

He fixed the cuff of his sleeve, taking a breath as Erik reached up with a comb to fix his hair. It was simple but refined, how it always was. 

“Erik, you’ve outdone yourself with this one, bro!” Alex said excitedly. He might not be very pleased about being in an arranged marriage, but he could appreciate a good suit. “I love the details.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Erik beamed with the praise. “May I?” he asked, reaching for Alex’s shoulders. Alex nodded, and Erik smoothed the vest’s warm fabric, readjusting the hem until it was aligned perfectly. 

He might not have been the type of guy to always wear suits, unless necessary, but Alex had to admit it. He looked good. The slim fit outlined his muscles, and the deep blue of the vest and pants brought out the bluish tints in his blue-green-grey eyes. (nobody could seem to decide what color they actually were). The small touches of golden embroidery shone and somehow managed to accentuate the sun-born highlights in his hair. 

“You look wonderful, your highness.”

“Thanks, Erik. And you can call me Alex, we’re chill.” Alex had been insisting to Erik that he could be casual around him for months, but Erik still generally referred to him as “your highness.”

“Alex,” he corrected with a broad smile. “Well, Alex, you have a photoshoot for the press in ten minutes, so if there’s anything else I can do to get you ready, don’t hesitate to ask. Though I must say, you look awesome.” Alex let out a small laugh. 

“Thanks, dude. Oh, wait, before you go, could you tell me something?”

“Of course,” Erik replied. Alex put on his Serious Face.

“Do these pants make my butt look big?” Erik bust out laughing, and Alex couldn’t help but do the same. 

...

Three hours later, Alex was finally done with an exhaustive photoshoot. He hated having his picture taken; add that to the list of anxieties. He had to make sure he looked perfect, or everything could go wrong; that was what his parents had drilled into him from the moment he had his first real photoshoot. 

Of course, he still had to endure an interview with the Tambor Times Magazine, which he was dreading. Speaking to an overeager journalist with no respect for privacy was never something he looked forward to. 

“What are your thoughts on the marriage that has been arranged between you and Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie of Dahlia?” Alex cleared his throat.

“It’s definitely a unique situation,” he started. “I mean, not every nineteen-year-old is part of an arranged marriage.” He did his best to keep his voice light, and it must’ve worked, because the journalist gave a laugh and moved on. 

“If I may, what is your current relationship with her?”

“The princess and I share a close bond,” was the only answer he gave. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be going,” he added. “I have a flight to catch.” He grinned - He didn’t have to catch any flight. He would be on the royal family private jet. But the journalist smiled and shook his hand, instructing him to have a wonderful evening, and he did the same. 

The bit about catching a flight wasn’t entirely false, though; soon, he had wished his parents a good evening and boarded the jet with his suitcases, hoping to leave his anxiety in Tambor.

-----

Julie POV

...

So.

Here’s the thing. 

Julie liked Alex, she really did. He was one of her closest friends (princesses don’t get out much). But he was gay, And Julie was decidedly Not A Guy. Plus, they both knew their connection was strongest platonically, anyway. 

Of course, none of that matters in diplomacy. 

Julie had tried many, many times to get out of the arranged marriage. But she’d just turned eighteen, and Alex nineteen, and apparently their kingdoms had no such qualms about marrying off teenagers. 

At least her dad, King Ray, had tried to get her out of it. But even as king, there was only so much he could do; everybody except for him thought it was a grand idea, because Of Course They Did. And once the public had heard the news, when she was sixteen, Julie couldn’t look out her window without seeing photographers outside the palace gates for a week. 

She supposed there was nothing she could do about it now, though, no matter how much she wanted to, for her sake and Alex’s. 

At least he was someone she got along with well. She knew they would never be in love, for multiple reasons, but she wouldn’t be unhappy. Alex might, though. They’d stayed up late on many a night, him rambling about cute guys he’d seen amongst the palace staff or on his occasional trip to the city, her chatting about songs she’d been writing and the one guy she’d had a crush on, Nick. 

Nick was the son of a nobleman her dad was very close with, and they were good friends, but she’d never acted on her little crush. Her feelings for Nick hadn’t really gone anywhere, it was just a lingering crush she’d had for a few years, but one that had faded with time.

Julie sighed, smoothing out her dress. It was simple but elegant, with a little bit of Julie flair. The silky violet fabric was cut in a slim fit to her waist, before gently flaring outwards towards her ankles. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed the dark skin of her shoulders, and the pearly embroidery of dahlia flowers around her waist shone in the light, tapering off as she twirled, though as she practiced her camera smile, it didn’t reach her eyes. 

Alex was her friend, but neither of them wanted to get married. But she’d tried her hardest to get them out of it, to no avail. 

So, as she sat down at her vanity, Julie closed her eyes and reminded herself the words her mother used to tell her every time she was scared. 

It’ll all be okay, Jules. You’re strong, and you’re a diamond in the rough.

The words settled her stomach a little bit. 

Her lady-in-waiting, Mira, knocked on her door. 

“Come in,” Julie said. Mira bustled in, her flaming red hair pulled into a messy bun, her brown eyes sparkling. 

“Oh, Jules, you look lovely.” Julie smiled.

“Thanks, Mira. How’s my hair?” Julie reached up to smooth her curls, which had been combed back and woven into a thick, braided knot at the base of her neck.  

“Almost perfect, but it needs a little something,” Mira decided with a smirk. Julie had no idea what Mira had in mind, but she knew she would love it. 

Before either of them could say another word, Flynn walked into Julie’s room, followed by her girlfriend, Carrie. 

“Hey, underachiever,” Flynn greeted with a smile.

“Hey, disappointment!”

“Dude,” Flynn said, a serious look on her face. “That dress is the shit!” Carrie nodded enthusiastically. 

“A definite look.”

“Thanks guys,” Julie said with a grin. “I love it, too! Mira’s got some sort of magic in her hands, because this is one of my favorites for sure.” Mira blushed. 

“Well, I’m not quite done,” she admitted. “Jules, your color scheme is pink, purple, and blue, usually, right?”

“Yeah, usually! I can always get behind some other colors, though.”

“Of course. But I think for this dress, the pink-purple-blue scheme would fit the best.”

“Definitely,” Carrie jumped in. “The purple mediates the pink and blue, so those are like side accents.” 

“I like this one,” Mira decided, pointing at Carrie. Carrie flipped her hair and smiled. “But yes. So, I was thinking for your hair, we could weave in some thin ribbons in those colors? It would be super simple, wouldn’t even have to take it out and restyle it.”

“Work your magic,” Julie instructed. Mira grinned excitedly and set to work, sitting Julie down at the vanity.

“Okay, Jules,” Flynn sighed. “I know you don’t want me to ask this, but are you doing okay?” Carrie took Flynn’s arm and nodded. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. Either of you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Julie decided. She didn’t want to marry Alex, and she knew he felt the same way. “At least it’s not somebody I hate, though. Alex and I get along really well.”

“I know,” Carrie added. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be okay.” A single tear rolled down Julie’s cheek, and she was grateful she hadn’t done her makeup yet.

“Thanks. To be honest, I’m not really okay, but I’ll live. And besides, it’s not for another three months. And having another friend around for a few months will be nice. Before, you know, I have to marry him.” Flynn let out a sad laugh. 

“If I may add my input,” Mira began, “I’ve always hated the prospect of arranged marriages. At the very least, both people should have to agree with it.” Julie nodded, quickly stopping when she felt the ribbons Mira was weaving into her hair tug. “Sorry,” she added. “I’ll be done in just a moment.”

“I agree,” Carrie said. “It’s stupid. Dahlia and Tambor are already allies, so why are they even doing this?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. My dad says it’s to ‘strengthen agreeability between our separate civilians.’ But at least tried to get me out of it,” she added. “King Xavier and Queen Claire both thought it was a great idea.” Julie had always held some bitterness towards Alex’s parents, given their closed-mindedness and apathy towards minorities and less fortunate people. Alex had always felt the same, and avoided coming out to them for those reasons. 

“Well, I personally think it’s homophobic that my best friend is being forced to be part of an arranged marriage,” Flynn decided, “because I’m gay and it annoys me. Plus, you know, she doesn’t want to be part of it.” Julie couldn’t help but laugh at that, as did Mira. 

“All done with the ribbons,” she said, handing Julie a mirror to see the back of her head. 

“Oh, Mira, I love it!” The ribbons were braided through her thick hair, swooping around the knot, twisting through her own curls and holding the hairstyle together perfectly. Both pretty and practical. 

“I’m glad!” Mira looked very proud of herself, for a good reason. Julie’s lady-in-waiting was definitely a woman to be admired (and feared - she’d taken down a full-grown man in a self defense class, while wearing heels). Julie could walk in heels, even run in them, but she’d tried fighting in them, and failed miserably. She might’ve been competent fighting in regular shoes, but heels were a different story. Mira, though, could do it all. 

Mira’s phone dinged. 

“Oh, Jules, it’s time for the pre-meetup photoshoot!”

“Got it. Thanks, Mira, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Forget about your photoshoots, probably.”

…

The photoshoot involved lots of candid shots of her in the garden, doing her best to look serene, and not show the anxiety bubbling in her stomach. But somehow, she actually managed to get through it without losing it. 

“Wonderful, miss. Turn towards me, look to your left- yes, perfect.” The photographer’s voice faded as she obeyed his instructions, a human robot running correctly but with wandering thoughts. 

“You look so natural, miss!” he complimented. Julie offered a smile, returning to her thoughts. There had to be a way to get her and Alex out of this. But she couldn’t think of any that wasn’t treasonous, illegal, or flat-out stupid. Of course, as a teenage girl, she felt she deserved to be a little stupid sometimes, but apparently that was “unbecoming of a princess” and “a bad influence.” Personally, she just thought that was biphobic.

-----

Luke POV

...

Luke hadn’t ever traveled much, let alone to a neighboring kingdom, so needless to say, he was pumped to get to visit Dahlia for three months at least. His hope was that, even though no one involved wanted the marriage to happen, they could find a bright side in him getting to stay with his best friend. 

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he felt bad for his charge and best friend, Alex. He knew Alex was gay; in fact, they’d “dated” for a few weeks when they were fourteen. But even after deciding they were better as friends, they were close, maybe even closer afterwards. Luke told Alex everything; he didn’t know if he had a secret that Alex didn’t know. 

Everyone in the palace was used to seeing him and Alex wandering the grounds, goofing off, messing around in the music studio, what have you. Technically, Luke was a junior guardsman, and given his bond with the prince, had been assigned (along with an actual guard) to be his security detail. That had evolved into an even stronger friendship, though. Years passed, and soon they were inseparable. 

Luke had done his best to cheer up Alex; seeing his best friend that upset was heartbreaking. But there was nothing he could actually do to help, so he settled for laying next to Alex on the floor and staring at the high ceilings.

An hour passed, and soon the afternoon sun was streaming into Alex’s room. Luke saw Alex drag a hand down his face. 

“I guess you should start getting ready, then?” he asked.

“Probably.” Luke patted his shoulder. “Do you think it would be too drastic to fake my death?” Luke laughed, knowing Alex was joking, though it wouldn’t have actually surprised him. Alex and Julie were friends, but neither of them wanted to get married. Especially not the gay guy, very publicly, to a girl. 

Luke stood up, giving Alex a mock salute, and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

He stood there for a few minutes, straightening his back as a senior guardsman passed him. He ducked his head in a nod, relaxing a moment later. As much as he might’ve come off as a chill guy, he was worried for Alex; even more so when he heard Alex’s breathing quicken from the other side of the wall, his footsteps pacing back and forth. 

The panic attack shouldn’t have surprised him. Alex had clinical anxiety, and this was probably one of the most stress-inducing times of his life. Being forced into an arranged marriage - even if you’re friends with the other person - is no fun for anybody. And today he would be going to the Dahlia palace to stay for three months before the ceremony.

Luke fiddled with the hem of his jacket; it was charcoal black, and thick and protective, with eight buttons on the wide front, crossing his chest. He’d gotten used to it, but despite that, he still started sweating in the warm weather of Tambor. The red sash crossing over the jacket had golden embroidery on the edges, and he quite enjoyed running his fingers over the textured thread. 

Luke could still hear Alex panicking, but there were no sets of three fake sneezes in between the rapid breaths, so he stayed. Alex was able to recognize when he needed support, and when he needed to be left alone. 

Luke spotted Erik nearing him. He couldn’t stop him, but Erik was aware of Alex’s anxiety, so Luke wasn’t concerned. He smiled at Erik, giving him a look, warning him that Alex was having a panic attack. Erik nodded, knocking gently on the door. 

“Your highness, are you alright?” When Alex didn’t respond, Luke jumped in. 

“He’s a little panicky at the moment. Maybe give him a few minutes to settle?” Erik nodded, and Luke gave a relieved smile. 

“You look nervous as well,” Erik noted. 

“Well, I am, a little bit,” Luke admitted. “I’ve never been to Dahlia, but I’m going with Alex since I’m his head guard and Royal Best Dude™.” Erik grinned. “I’m excited, though! I bet it’ll be a lot of fun.”

“I’m so jealous,” Erik told him. “I’ve never been outside of Tambor.”

“I’m worried for Alex, though. He’s really nervous.”

“Yeah,” Erik agreed, a flicker of understanding rushing across his face that made Luke smile despite himself. If he was being honest, Luke had a tiny crush on Erik, but nothing substantial. “I mean, it’s gotta suck being closeted to everyone but a few people, and having to marry a girl.” Luke nodded. 

“I wish there was something we could do about it.”

…

Luke stood guard off-camera while Alex had his pre-meetup photoshoot and interview. It was what he always did, though this time it felt different, like he was a silent supporter during a tough time, now more than ever. 

If nothing else, he could reassure Alex that he looked fabulous in his suit - it wasn’t a lie, either. The navy blue fabric complimented his eyes perfectly, and the golden details were a stunning addition. Tie that with his sharp jaw and awkward, endearing personality? Anybody would simp for him. He had a feeling that many people did, too; Some of Alex’s best photos from these shoots would be printed in the Tambor Times Magazine, and he would also post some - as well as his own selfies - on his instagram. Luke had seen the comments, and always smirked at Alex given the amount of heart-eyed emojis and key smashes there were. 

Luke stood behind the cameraman for the candid shots where they needed Alex to be smiling or laughing. No matter how much he practiced, Alex could never get a good candid smile, so Luke took it upon himself to stand behind the photographer making faces, or occasionally imitating their every move with mock seriousness. 

When Alex’s musical laugh rang through the air, Luke patted himself on the back. 

Worked every time. 

He worked his magic for a few more shots afterwards, doing his best to make Alex laugh. It wasn’t just for the photos, though, it was to help him settle down. Luke knew this was a horrible situation, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, so he’d have to try to make it more bearable. 

After Alex’s interview, Luke could tell that the reality of the situation was hitting him even more, as a flicker of fear shadowed his face, his hands clenched into fists. Luke walked towards him slowly, making sure Alex was okay with it, and when he didn’t retract, he put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” he promised. And as Alex seemed to relax, nodding and pulling Luke into a hug, that was when he knew.

Alex was his best friend, and didn’t deserve any of this pain or fear. He deserved for things to be okay.

Luke would keep that promise, no matter what.

-----

Reggie POV

...

Reggie knew he was Princess Julie’s honorary older brother; it had been that way for years, after he ran away from his own pathetic excuse for a home. He was lucky King Ray was a kind man; he could’ve just as easily left him there where he’d found him, a nine-year-old in the street of the raining Dahlia capital city. But he’d taken Reggie in, and soon, Reggie was part of the royal family, even if not by blood. 

Now, given that he was Julie’s honorary older brother, he hated that she was being put into an arranged marriage. She was eighteen, for God’s sake! Reggie was nineteen, and knew for a fact he wouldn’t have been able to handle it nearly as gracefully as she did. Then again, while she was young, playful, and vibrant, Julie was also the epitome of grace and poise; she’d grown up in a palace, after all. 

Needless to say, though, Reggie was sure he wouldn’t be able to not be protective of Julie when Prince Alexander came. He’d met him before, but only briefly; in passing after dinner during visits, mostly. It did help Reggie’s nerves to remember that Alexander was a very sweet, reserved person from his own interactions with the man. But that was his little sister, and while she wasn’t completely devastated, Reggie knew she didn’t want it to happen. 

He dragged a hand down his face, flopping down on his bed. He wanted so badly to help Julie out of this, but he couldn’t. 

Hey, at least he could cheer her up with his jokes! She always said they were awful, but Reggie knew better. Only the finest of jokes could make Her Royal Highness, Princess Julie Molina of Dahlia, laugh until her sides hurt, even coming from her honorary older brother, Sir Reginald Molina. 

He smiled to himself. He might not be able to stop this whole predicament, but he could help her through it.

Reggie hopped up, fixing his suit. The silky red fabric of the vest hadn’t creased at all, nor had his grey suit pants, and yet he still felt the need. He did, however, roll the sleeves of his black dress shirt to expose his forearms, because come on. Even with Dahlia’s cool climate, he still got hot, especially when the sun was streaming through his windows, and he had a few photos outside before Prince Alexander’s arrival. Plus, it didn’t hurt that, according to his Instagram followers, the rolled sleeves made him look “personable” and “hotter than the sun.” 

Reggie ran a finger over the shimmering black embroidery of the vest, then winking at the mirror and pulling his best finger guns. It was his god-given right as a fancy bisexual. 

He ran his hand through his expertly-styled hair, letting some of his waves free from their stiff hold. It wasn’t the perfect style it had been when his butler styled it a couple hours ago, but it was more of his own style, which he liked a bit better. Spinning on his heel and slipping a hand in his pocket, Reggie walked out his door and down the light-filled corridor, down to the front steps, waving to Mira along the way. As he stepped outside, he heard people outside of the palace gates start shouting. He gave a wink and playful salute, even daring to blow a kiss in the general direction of a cute girl. He noticed Julie rolling her eyes, the photographer seizing the moment to take some shots of him on the palace steps. 

He jogged over to Julie, wrapping his arm around her. 

“How are you doing, your highness?”

“I’m doing okay,” she said, though both of them knew it was a lie. “How about you, Reg?”

“I’m okay as well. Just popping in to see my fangirls-” he winked at the crowd behind the gate, and a chorus of teenage girls (and a few boys) all sighed dreamily- “and check on you. We both know you’re lying.” Julie groaned.

“This whole thing just sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed. “But I’ll be here for you every step of the way. You know that, right dude?”

“You’re such a sappy loser,” she told him, and he put her in a playful headlock, posing for the camera.

“I know.” Reggie might’ve been a “sappy loser” of a brother, but he knew that, in Julie’s book, he was a sappy loser (affectionate), and that she understood that he was there for her. 

Hopefully that would be enough. 

-----

Willie POV

...

Willie had never actually gotten to know Princess Julie, but he’d met her a couple times. He was a chef in the palace kitchens, and on occasion, Julie would come down to try to get to know people. He’d never truly had a long conversation with her, but in the interactions they’d had, she was kind, and had a musical air to her. 

He’d seen pictures of the prince she was set to marry, Prince Alexander of Tambor. If Willie was being honest, he was kind of cute.

Okay, really cute. 

He’d never actually met the guy, but he seemed nice. His photos on Instagram had good vibes, at least. Willie couldn’t help but hope he’d get to meet him when he came to visit. If it was just because his brain was screaming cute boy, that was nobody’s business but his. 

Willie sprinkled more flour on the dough he was kneading, folding it in some more. It was cathartic, this repetitive motion. It helped calm his ADHD sometimes. He kept going.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Sprinkle. Fold. Roll.

Kneading the dough until it wasn’t sticky, he listened to the head chef, Lilian, shout orders at the rest of them. She was a very intimidating woman, tall and muscular, with raven black hair in a sleek ponytail, and fair skin flecked with flour. But she was quite kind, Willie had come to learn over the years. She was just one of those people who scared you if you didn’t know them. 

He put the dough in a pan, setting it in the oven and flicking on the light so he could monitor its progress, as could anyone else walking by. Wiping the flour from his hands to his apron, he then put his dishes and utensils in the giant dishwasher, finally washing his hands and grabbing a new bowl. 

Tonight was the welcome feast for Prince Alexander. Willie and a few others were in charge of baking loaves of bread for the appetizers, as well as making the desserts; today, mini chocolate mousse cakes. 

Dessert was always Willie’s favorite course to prepare, and not just because he could steal bits of frosting from the spatulas after he was finished. It was also because of how making desserts seemed to put everyone in the kitchens in a good mood. Maybe it was the smell of rising sugar, or the bright colors of the tubs of sprinkles, but he adored it. 

He cracked the eggs into the mixture of butter and sugar, adding the milk and flour soon after. As he poured in the cocoa powder, a little bit poofed up, creating a chocolatey cloud. The noise of the mixture did nothing to silence his racing thoughts, though. 

Would he get to meet Prince Alexander?

Would he like him?

And most importantly, why did he want to so badly? 

Willie shook his head, doling the batter into mini cake pans and tapping them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles, sticking them in an oven after it beeped to temperature. 

Another oven beeped.

“Hey, Alyssa?” he called to a plump woman a few meters away. “Could you check on the bread in that oven to your right?” She nodded and leaned down, giving him a thumbs up.

“Probably needs another minute or so, but it looks great.”

“Sick, thanks!” Alyssa nodded and smiled, her dyed-purple hair shimmering in its bun. 

Willie grabbed the ingredients he would need for the mousse, arranged them on the counter, then jogged over to the other oven and pulled out the bread - without putting on oven mitts.

He hissed in pain but didn’t let go, quickly putting it on the stovetop and running to a sink to run his fingers under cold water.

Willie already had tons of scars and calluses on his hands, both from cooking and skateboarding on his off-days, so the burn didn’t hurt nearly as bad as it would’ve a few years ago. And by some miracle, it didn’t blister - though it did swell and turn red. Willie cursed under his breath, heading to the first-aid kit and smearing some ointment on it and covering it with a bandage. 

“Let me guess,” said Lilian from behind him. “You forgot oven mitts again?”

“Guilty,” he said with a grin. Lilian sighed, but didn’t manage to hide her smile. 

“Willie, you need to be more careful. I know your brain always has, like twenty thoughts going at all times, but you could hurt yourself.”

“Twenty-three,” he corrected. “And I know, but you only live once, and I didn’t want the bread to burn.”

“Five seconds to grab a mitt wouldn’t burn the bread.”

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.” Lilian rolled her eyes and gently swatted him on the shoulder. It wasn’t a mean move, of course, it was her saying she was exasperated but that she cared about you. Willie laughed and went back to his mixing bowl, getting ready to prepare the mousse.

This would be perfect.

[angryschnauzer]

Superior Specimen - Chapter 6

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 6

 Henry left soon after, grabbing a slice of toast as you’d stood in the kitchen in just your dressing gown, apologising for not being able to spend the day with you but he had meetings for work and for future dig’s planned for the southern hemisphere in the winter. You’d stood in the kitchen sipping your coffee for a long while after he’d left, thinking over what he’d casually dropped into conversation; was this a fling?, Was the fact that he would spend months at a time out of the country the reason why such a catch was still single? Or was this something he did; find a girl, romance them, and then leave them on ‘business’ once things got boring? You shook your head to rid yourself of those thought and immediately regretted it, your head hurting from your wound. You gingerly touched it and brought your fingers in front of your face, letting out a sigh of relief when you saw there was no blood, but you realised you’d need to be careful for the next couple of days. 

 As you continued to sip your coffee you read over your emails again, re-reading the one from your boss and frowning; it seemed very short and curt, but he was probably just annoyed that one of his staff was due time off in their busiest season due to what was essentially a workplace injury.

 You decided you were going to head to yoga, even without the joke earlier about needing to limber up, it would help you focus and recharge your mind as well as your body.

 -

 By the time Friday afternoon had arrived your week off was surprisingly busy; finally finding time to do all those small chores that you had put off for weeks, but also you’d taken the chance to go shopping for a dress for your date.

 Rather than hit the chaos of Oxford Street or Westfield, instead you’d sought out a couple of vintage and secondhand dress agencies. Your morning had been fun, searching through unique pieces until you’d found it, the dress that was perfect. The woman that ran the vintage shop had guessed it had been a custom piece made in the 80’s, the midnight blue velvet piece fitting you like a glove. It had a thigh high split on one side and was patterned with silver sequins hand sewn on sporadically to make it resemble the night sky. It was strapless but had little hooks along the scalloped bust line that could hook over the cups of a strapless bra for extra security. You had a pair of silver heels in your wardrobe at home that would work perfectly with it, and with a bargain clutch from Primark you were sorted. 

 As you primped and preened that afternoon, fixing your hair and makeup, you smiled at your reflection as you pulled the dress on just a few minutes before Henry was due to pick you up. You were checking the contents of your clutch when the doorbell rang, frowning as you answered it and saw Henry on the small intercom screen;

 “Henry? You know the code”

 He grinned at the camera;

 “Yes, but I’m being gentlemanly… this time I don’t already have you drunk or drugged in my arms…”

 You pressed the buzzer to let him in, flicking the latch on the door as you went to fasten the straps on your heels, looking up just as he peered around the open doorway and stopped dead on his feet;

 “Wow…”

 He looked you up and down, his eyes wide as he took in your curves in the vintage dress, his gaze pausing at your chest on his way down and then on his way back up again. 

 You had a similar reaction when you saw how he was dressed; navy suit and kingfisher blue shirt, the top few buttons undone where it fitted his chest like a glove. He crossed the room slowly, like a predator stalking his prey, resting his hands on your hips and ducking his head to kiss you before pulling back to admire your cleavage close up;

 “I must say, I am a big fan of this dress” He ran a fingernail over the top of your breast, your skin prickling in Goosebumps at his touch before he opened his jacket and pulled a flat velvet box from the inside pocket and handed it to you; 

 “You remember when we first started talking properly, that I said I’d brought you something back from Siberia?”

 Your eyes went wide;

 “Henry… what is this?”

 “Open it and see”

 In disbelief you pulled the box open and let out a small gasp; nestled within the box was a delicate necklace, a raw amethyst gemstone set into a delicate silver chain. As you held the box he lifted the chain, walking behind you so he could bring it over your head, his fingers nimbly fastening it before he traced his fingertips over your bare shoulders and pressed a kiss to your neck;

 “You look stunning… the platinum looks beautiful on you”

 You spun around, your hand resting on the necklace;

 “Platinum?! I thought it was silver! Henry, this is too much… I can’t take this, not when it’s only our first date…”

 He brought his hands to yours and gently clasped them, pressing a kiss to your fingers before he smiled kindly;

 “It’s not really our first date though, is it? We’ve had drinks, I’ve spent the night… And please, let me give you this…”

 “But it’s too expensive!”

 “Not to me it isn’t… I’m lucky enough to me more than comfortable financially, let me share it with you” He closed his hands gently around yours as they held the necklace, pressing a kiss to your knuckles; “It suits you… and I can’t exactly keep it, the chain would get caught on my chest hair”

 You laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips;

 “Thank you”

 -

 Henry had driven you through the early evening London streets with ease, confident and calm even when cabs would cut in front of him or Uber Eats bicycles would whizz past your door at traffic lights. As much as you’d asked him where you were going, he just smiled and replied ‘you’ll see’ before returning his attention back to the road. 

 Finally you recognised some familiar sights as you passed the entrance to Borough Market, before he swung a left and your eyes went wide;

 “We’re going to The Shard?”

 He grinned as he steered the car into the space outside the entrance, the valet opening your door was Henry strode around the car and took your hand whilst handing his keys to the valet. The ride up through the building in the silent elevator gave you butterflies, before he took your hand as the doors chimed. Henry offered you his arm and you tucked your own through it, your stomach flipping nervously as he walked with confidence up to the maitre’d;

 “Good Evening Dr Cavill”

 You had to try and keep your face neutral that the staff knew who he was, and Henry greeted him in return as if he was an old friend;

 “How are you Michael? Family good?”

 “Yes, thank you Sir. My daughter will be starting Oxford university in September, thank you for your letter of endorsement”

 “Wonderful, great to hear. Are we ok to have some drinks and take in the view before we sit down for dinner?”

 “Of course, Sir. I can prepare your table for whenever you need it. You’re booked into the Westminster Suite tonight?”

 “Yes, that’s the one”

 The man smiled as he led you and Henry to a small bar table near the window, and as soon as you’d rested your small clutch bag on it a waiter appeared;

 “Can I get you some drinks tonight?”

 Henry glanced at you;

 “Champers?” You nodded as he continued; “We’ll have a bottle of the Krug 1996”

 The waiter nodded once and walked away, and it was only when Henry lightly touched your arm and made you jump did you realise you’d zoned out a little;

 “Princess?”

 “Sorry, just trying to process this is all real” you laughed quietly

 “Very real” he took your hand and was about to say something when the waiter returned, setting the small tray with two champagne flutes and a small bowl of strawberries onto the table, before quietly opening the expensive bottle in front of you. Pouring two glasses he set the bottle onto the table and left without another word, letting you return your attention to Henry;

 “What’s on your mind? You were quiet in the car the whole way over. Is this too much?”

 You smiled;

 “No, it’s wonderful. Obviously it’s not a standard night out for me, but you know…”

 “What else is bothering you?”

 You took a deep breath and smiled, pointing to your glass of champagne;

 “Ok firstly, this; I’m not taking a sip until I tell you that I one hundred percent want to sleep with you”

 “Ok, that’s good to hear” he grinned

 “You are so kind and caring, specifically waiting until I was sober before we would sleep together, and now obviously you have thought tonight through, you’ve got a suite here - that was a bit of a surprise I’ll add, but a pleasant one - so I want to get this completely agreed to before you waste all this money and then not asking for consent…”

 He nodded and sipped his glass, smiling and a kind look on his face as you continued;

 “Also, my safe word is Nerd”

 “Nerd?”

 “Yes. In case of later…”

 “Gotcha” he paused for a moment before nodding to your glass; “Do you want a drink now?”

 “God yes” You tipped the glass and sipped at the bubbles, feeling them burst over your tongue, and as you were setting the glass down and reaching for a strawberry Henry rested a hand on your hip;

 “Is there anything else?”

 “You said you were organising digs in the Southern Hemisphere for the winter… where would that leave us, you and me? Would this between us just be a summer fling? I just kind of want to know where I stand before you break my heart”

 “So firstly, I do not see this as just a summer fling. I feel like I’ve known you for years, and remember we were talking on Instagram for months before I finally worked up enough courage to say more than just asking if your day was ok… But the winter digs, it’s what I do. Obviously I’m attached to the museum, but I’m also linked to several others all around the world. I can be away for a month or six months at a time, it’s all dependant on the weather and permits, local politics, but I’d fly back whenever I could, and fly you out when you could take time off work”

 “You would do that? You would wait for me?”

 He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you gently to his chest as he ran a finger gently down your cheek;

 “Of course I’d wait for you. I have always waited… I have found people don’t wait for me”

 “What?! But… but you’re a catch! You’re kind and caring… you know how to treat a partner in every way!”

 He shrugged, looking a little pensive;

 “I don’t know what to say… but the last couple of girlfriends presumed I would cheat so ended things ‘before I broke their heart’... which I would never do…”

 He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before a quiet cough sounded behind you, the pair of you turning to see the waiter;

 “Would you like your table now or would you like to continue with drinks here?”

 Henry smiled at you;

 “I could eat, you?”

 “Yes, please”

 The waiter nodded and loading your drinks onto a tray before you followed him, Henry leaning to whisper in your ear;

 “I look forward to eating you later too”

 -

 Dinner was fabulous, each dish seemingly better than the last, flavours dancing on your tongue and you had to struggle not to make obscene moaning sounds, but when the occasional one did escape Henry’s smile would spread further across his face until you laughed as well. By the time the dessert menu was brought over you declined;

 “Are you sure?” Henry pushed; “Really, you can have anything you like, this whole night is on me”

 You laughed quietly;

 “I’m not looking at the prices…” you leant back and rested a hand on your stomach; “But I am *just* the right amount of full at the moment to be happy to do any other activities tonight… if I eat dessert I wouldn’t”

 Henry nodded and gave a nod to the waiter, quietly speaking to him before turning his attention back to you;

 “Princess, shall we retire back to our suite? A nightcap whilst we take in the view; there’s a telescope in the room”

 Nodding you sipped on the last of your drink as Henry signed the bill, slipping a stack of notes into the clip before closing the small black file and handing it back. He stood and quickly circled the table, helping to pull your chair out before offering you his arm. 

 The ride in the lift to the luxury suites was quiet, the atmosphere almost sparking with the energy the pair of you were giving off from the sexual tension. Henry walked you to the door and you were ready to rip his clothing from his body, but as he pushed the door open he smiled and pressed a finger to his lips before speaking, and not to you;

 “Michael, thank you, but we won’t be requiring the butler service tonight”

 The man you recognised from the restaurant emerged from what you could see what the small kitchenette area, wiping his hands on a pristine tea towel;

 “Understood Dr Cavill. I hope you have an enjoyable stay. Your request from the restaurant has been stored safely in the refrigerator”

 “Thank you, Michael,”

 As the man passed you saw Henry slip him a £50 note as he quickly shook his hand, before taking the Do Not Disturb sign and slipping it over the gold hook on the outside of the door and quietly closing it.

 You watched as he shrugged his jacket off and slowly stalked across the room, wrapping his arm around your back, his other hand gently tilting your chin towards his lips as he kissed you, the press of his hot hard body against your own. The kiss was soft, yet he managed to completely dominate you, his tongue pushing against your own and you could taste the whiskey he’d finished his meal with just a few moments before. Your fingers clawed at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, and yet as you managed to get one unfastened he pulled away, slipping his hand into yours;

 “Come on, let me show you the view”

 The noise that escaped your lips was a cross between a laugh and a toddlers disgruntled moan;

 “Henry…” you whined; “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but please, I’m so fucking horny right now, I need you to fuck me into the mattress”

 He turned and walked backwards, tugging you to the panoramic windows and the telescope that sat on the full-length tripod, a quiet laugh filling the void between the two of you;

 “Princess, I promise you will get that… we have all night, all weekend! I just have one thing I want to show you…”

 He peered through the telescope before stepping back and nodding to you, gently guiding you until he was standing behind you, his hands on your hips. You looked through the  eyepiece and let out a gasp; on the roof of a building in Canary Wharf was a light display… and yet it wasn’t just lasers, there was light patterns of dinosaurs; Diplodocus reaching for high leaves, T-rex stalking in the bushes, a group of Raptors running across the building.

 “Oh Henry… how did you?”

 “I have some friends in the city… and some more friends that run outdoor events… just called in a couple of favours”

 You watched through the scope and smiled as you felt Henry wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his hard body flush with your own and started to caress your neck with soft kisses. One hand slipped to your thigh and gently started to tug your dress up until it was high enough for him to slip his hand into the thigh high slit and curl around to seek out your pussy. He was still firmly holding you in place, letting you watch the light show in the relative darkness of the luxury suite, but as his fingers dipped beneath the thin elastic of your lacy thong he let out an appreciative groan as he found you already dripping wet;

 “You really are horny, aren’t you?”

 He found your clit and started to tease it with tight circles, at the same time grinding into the crease of your ass with the hardness still confined to his smart trousers. Under his expert ministrations you soon found yourself swaying your hips, working between pushing harder against his hand then pushing back to feel that delicious friction from behind. Your head fell back against his shoulder and he let out a feral growl against your neck, his teeth grazing against your smooth flesh before gently biting, causing a shudder to run the length of your spine;

 “Ok, Dinosaurs are great, but I need a different bone…” 

 Your words were breathless and were greeted with a low chuckle. Henry withdrew his fingers and you watched as he brought them to his mouth, tasting your juices from the glistening digits, before he moved them to the zip of your dress and slowly started to unzip you. The dress fell to the floor and he let out an appreciative moan;

 “No bra?”

 “You complaining?”

 “Absolutely not”

 Your fingers started quick work of his shirt buttons, unfastening them all before pushing the fabric over his massive shoulders. As he cast the garment aside you unbuttoned his trousers, lowering the zip and palming the massive bulge his boxers could barely contain, Henry’s hips pushing against your palm involuntarily as you felt the heat of his skin though the fabric. Your tongue painted patterns against his chest and his voice stuttered;

 “I want you to sit on my face, ride my tongue Princess, let me make you cum”

 He dropped to his knees and pulled your lace thong down your legs, before unfastening the tiny straps of your heels, running the tips of his fingers up the length of your body as he stood and rid himself of his own clothing, pulling you to the bed.

 He lay on the soft covers, pulling you up his body until your knees were either side of his head, his strong hands gripping onto your thighs as his tongue darted out and parted your folds. His eyes glinted with mischief and you could feel yourself shaking with anticipation as he spoke;

 “Turn around”

 Taking a couple of moments to shift 180º, you rested your hands on his broad chest as he pulled you down to his mouth. At the first touch of his tongue swiping through your folds again you groaned and curled your fingers through the coarse hair on his chest, shuddering at his expert touch. With each pass of the strong muscle you could feel your body rapidly heading towards orgasm already, but when you felt a wide hand flat on your back, pushing you forwards it was heaven as his lips latched onto your clit and he slid two fingers of his other hand into your soaked channel.

 Resting your chest against his abdomen you were face to face with his dick, hard and thick as it rested against his stomach, reaching up to his navel where it wept precum. Wrapping your hand around it you smoothed your thumb over the clear liquid, wishing you could reach it with your mouth, but instead spitting on your other hand to work the hot hard flesh. The groan that was muffled from between your thighs told you he was enjoying it, and in return he slid a finger into you, stretching you, and you knew you were done for. 

 Your attention waived from him as he worked you closer and closer towards your orgasm, before he managed to curl his fingers just right and you were cumming over his face, his strong arm holding you to his mouth as you shook with pleasure. 

 Finally he carefully withdrew his fingers from you, lifting you so he could lay you head to foot on the bed beside him before resting one massive hand on your soft stomach as your breath came out in rapid pants, your heart racing. You felt the bed shift and the welcome touch of his warm hands parting your legs so he could crawl up your body, pressing open mouthed kisses to every spot he crossed. Eventually he reached your own lips, kissing you deeply, his tongue wide and strong and you could taste yourself as your own tongue danced with his. You could feel his hardness nestled against your folds, slipping against you as your bodies writhed together before he finally pushed himself up on his powerful arms;

 “Are you ready?”

 “Yes… please Henry…”

 Reaching down he took hold of himself and slid the tip up and down through your folds until you felt that delicious notch of his swollen crown resting at your entrance, he looked back to you;

 “I’ll go slow… just relax…”

 He started to push forwards, your velvet walls slowly parting as he filled you inch by delicious inch, your eyes going wider with each push. He tilted his hips and immediately found your g-spot, your eyes rolling back in their sockets and you let out a groan that would have rattled the glass in the windows had the building not been fitted with hurricane proof panes. You felt Henry’s soft lips press a kiss to your neck, his mouth moving gently over your skin as he spoke;

 “You feel like heaven Princess, taking me so well”

 “H-Henry… please…”

 “What Princess? Is it too much?”

 “NO! No, oh my god, please… please move… fuck me… fuck me like you mean it…”

 “Princess…” he warned

 “I can take it… I want it…”

 You looked into his eyes and saw a glint of concern, before a wide smile spread across his face;

 “You can, you’re a good girl…”

Pulling his hips back he pushed back in, parting your walls further and the feeling of being so full was almost indescribable. Sure, you’d had partners with big dicks in the past. Some with small dicks. But no-one that had ever been both long and as wide as Henry was. He wasn’t obscenely long, so there wasn’t the uncomfortable stabbing in the cervix, but every inch of his was thick and meaty, and you could feel him completely. Each thrust was becoming harder and faster, and soon he was wrapping one arm around your thigh to pull your legs open wider, tilting his hips so he could change the angle as he fucking railed you into the mattress, your fingers clawing at his back as you begged him for more and more. 

 The room faded around you, it was just you and Henry, the pleasure each other’s bodies were sharing with the other, feral grunts and moans as you felt pleasure like never before. You fitted together like two pristine pieces of a jigsaw, working together in unity. The rough brush of his chest hair against your hypersensitive nipples was yet another added stimulation, and with each rapid push and thrust your bodies rubbed together to bring you closer to your peak. You were trembling around him, your legs shaking where you were so close to orgasm. 

 He let go of your leg, now resting both hands either side of your body as he moved quicker, each thrust more powerful than the last, and with each push you had slid a little more along the bed, your head now hanging over the end and resting on the chaise lounge that sat there, the blood rushing to your brain giving you a head rush. You wrapped your legs around Henry’s waist, hooking one foot over another as you pressed them against his ripe ass. Your bodies were slick with sweat, and when you felt that tell-tale sign that your orgasm was starting a guttural moan emerged slowly through your throat.

 Your body shook with intense pleasure, you could feel for the very first time your internal muscles squeezing and massaging Henry’s massive girth within you, realising that you had never felt so complete.

As you rode out your orgasm Henry evened his thrusts out, and as your own pleasure was starting to ebb away it set off his own, his thick seed filling you as you felt him twitch and buck within you. You watched as he threw his head back and moaned your name, the smooth expanse of his neck aching for you to touch, and with the last ounce of strength you had you did just that and pressed an open mouthed kiss to his Adams Apple.

 With one final grunt you felt him twitch for the last time before his body relaxed, and those steel blue eyes met yours in the twilight of the room, your bodies only illuminated by the bright lights of the London night skyline. He shifted, moving one hand behind your head to support and cup it in his massive palm, the other resting on his elbow so your bodies were pressed together yet he wasn’t resting his entire weight atop of you. There were no words, the smiles on your faces told the other all the words your mouths couldn’t articulate. 

 The passing of time didn’t register in your mind, and it was only when Henry’s entire body did an involuntary shudder did you both come back to reality. Steadying himself on his arms he slowly pulled out of you, letting out a string of gentle ‘hoo-ha’s as the pull of your body against his over sensitive flesh was almost overwhelming for him. Kneeling on the bed he ran his hands over your thighs, warm against the now goose bumped skin and he pulled your legs apart slightly;

 “Wanna watch my cum drip out of you Princess”

 His hands rested on your inner thighs at the apex, his thumbs pulling apart your lips and you watched as he watched his thick seed slowly pool at your entrance. With one thumb he swiped it through the cum before spreading it over your swollen folds. He let out a grunt and moved, sliding an arm behind your back and helped you sit up, pressing his thumb to your lips which you eagerly took into your mouth, sucking on the thick pad as you tasted your combined essence on his salty skin. 

 “Let’s rest for a while before the next round” he muttered before kissing your cheek. 

 You nodded, muttering about needing to pee, and on wobbly legs you staggered to the bathroom like a new-born fawn.

Chapter 7 >>>

Chapter 6 notes:

In case you wanted to be nosey and see just how much Henry spent on their date:

Champagne:

https://thechampagnecompany.com/krug-1996-vintage-champagne-75cl-gift-box Restaurant at the Shard: https://www.the-shard.com/restaurants/aquashard/ Room at the Shard: https://www.shangri-la.com/london/shangrila/rooms-suites/suites/westminster-suite/

[masterjedilenawrites]

Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 3 (Blueberry Path)

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. Refer to this Masterlist for previous chapters and alternate paths.

Chapter 3: The Preparation (Blueberry Path)

Pairing: Thrawn x reader

Content: Light swearing, reader is an awkward pining idiot, no indication yet if your crush likes you back, but we’re just warming up here...

Length: 1.6k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

It really would be best for you to go to the gala with Thrawn. It made sense. He was an alien and you were the only girl at the Academy willing to be seen with him. And while Eli wasn't exactly popular, you could easily count how many girls would gladly be his date to a dance. It was just that plain and simple.

And yet, far beyond mere logic and tactics, you were so incredibly happy about it.

You were going to a dance with Thrawn.

It seemed like such a silly, juvenile thing to be excited about. Like you were in primary school with a crush or something. You shook yourself as you got ready in front of your little dorm room mirror, trying not to let those emotions show through your dressed-up appearance. You'd managed to find a decent dress on sale, and your hair cooperated with you for once. You definitely looked better than you usually did.

But you wished you looked more... more. You'd be on the arm of a tall, sophisticated, and, dare you say, strapping man for the evening. And even though you all had other duties to focus on - observing and possibly even manipulating your three targets - you still wanted to be a good date for him. Not some meek, homely person who had no business being anywhere near such a god.

You caught yourself in horror. Where were these thoughts coming from? Thrawn was your friend. A quiet, distant friend who was only going to the dance with you out of necessity. His focus was solely on the plan. You'd helped successfully get Arden and Eva to go to the gala together as dates, and already Commander Burdick was pissed about it. Thrawn had arranged a system for how the three of you would observe, and possibly even intervene, to ensure Burdick decided to pin his sabotage on Arden.

The plan. That was all that mattered tonight. Not how you looked or how Thrawn would look or whether he might ask you to dance.... You almost slapped yourself for thinking such nonsense, but there was a soft knock on the door that called for your attention instead.

Your heart stopped, thinking it would be Thrawn arriving earlier than he'd said, but after psyching yourself up to open the door, you found it was only Eli.

"Do you know how to tie a tie?" he asked with a sheepish smile, holding up a wad of navy blue satin. You suppressed a laugh. He had cleaned up surprisingly well, with a suit and cufflinks and everything. The only thing he'd missed was his hair, which was forever an unruly mess. You could take the the boy out of Wild Space, but you couldn't take the wild out of the boy.

"No," you said, but then you chuckled at his defeated look, opening the door wider for him to enter. "But I'll figure it out."

He heaved a sigh of relief as you let him into your dorm. Thankfully you didn't have any roommates; your old one had transferred out of the Navy halfway through the year, and no one seemed rushed to get you a new one.

Eli stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as you took the tie from him and tried to make sense of it.

"Thrawn was no help?" you asked to fill the silence between you. But also, you were curious how much the Chiss may or may not be getting ready.

"He's been out all afternoon. Somethin' about preparing for tonight." Eli rolled his eyes. "And I don't think he meant it the way you and I are."

You chuckled in agreement. Well, if he wasn't doing anything special to get ready, then maybe you didn't need to worry as much.

"You seem pretty excited," Eli commented.

You shrugged, finally getting the tie around his neck and under the collar of his shirt. "I just like dancing is all."

"You're excited to dance with Thrawn?" he wrinkled his nose at you. Not once had you given Eli any indication you might ever be interested in your mutual friend, mainly because you'd been good at hiding those feelings from yourself, too. You didn't want to give him any reason to start suspecting anything now, so you quickly tried to save face as you continued to fumble with his tie.

"I'm just excited to dance. I don't care who my date is. I'll even dance by myself if I have to."

Thankfully Eli took your words at face value and didn't add any more to the conversation. And by now, you were done trying to figure out this tie. You'd looped it around a couple different ways but nothing seemed right. You huffed and let the material fall against his chest.

"I give up. This isn't as easy as I thought it'd be. Sorry."

Eli shrugged as he pulled it from around his neck and rolled it in his hands. "Eh, it was worth a shot. I can go without it, right?"

He held his hands on his hips and did a playful little pose which made you roll your eyes.

"Sure, you look fine to me. Not sure what your date will think, though. What's her name again?"

"Sadie Amiko. She's in a few of our combat classes."

"Wait, she's not the girl who whispers yes after she punches someone?"

At Eli's awkward smile you started laughing, not having connected the dots before. He'd mentioned who his date was earlier that week and had seemed pretty pleased about it, but you had been too distracted by your own happiness to really pay attention.

"Yes!" you hissed with a little fist pump by your hip, in a perfect rendition of your classmate's ridiculous habit. Eli was trying not to laugh, but he'd mocked her for it before so you knew he found it funny.

"Okay, well, she was the only one I knew of who didn't have a date yet, so...."

"Ah, so she accepted out of desperation."

"You're mean," he pouted. "You better not embarrass me tonight. You never know, I could get lucky."

He started making his way toward the door but paused just as he reached out for the handle and gave you a mischievous look. "Maybe you will, too."

Your heart thudded forcefully in your chest. You weren't sure how you managed to keep your composure and respond so smoothly. "If you mean I'll be lucky enough to stop Thrawn from thinking about this plan for five seconds so I can dance, then yeah, maybe."

"That's exactly what I meant," said Eli in such a way that you knew it wasn't. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from completely freaking out. Where was this coming from? Was he just getting back at you from your teasing, or had he somehow detected the feelings you were having such a hard time controlling tonight? 

"Anyway, you comin' with? I told Sadie I'd meet her there at six."

You glanced at the clock in your room, realizing how late it was and the fact you still didn't have shoes on. You dismissed him with a wave of your hand as you frantically looked for your shoes. "No, Thrawn's coming by any second. We'll see you there."

"Alright... well good luck with that dance!"

It seemed like the door had barely closed after him when the knock came, though realistically it had been a few minutes of you fussing with your appearance one last time. You took several measured breaths to try and get the blush out of your cheeks, before you finally went to open the door.

"Good evening," Thrawn said courteously, holding out a hand.

Whatever composure you thought you had left completely vanished. He was dressed in a sharp, immaculate white suit that made his blue skin so much more striking. He normally looked good, even in the unflattering flight suits, but somehow he was managing to look even better now. More elegant, more stunning, more beautiful.

You could feel his eyes boring holes into you expectantly. You hadn't meant to hesitate and make the moment awkward. You forced yourself to swallow and took his offered hand, hoping he wouldn't notice how clammy it was, or how quickly your pulse was racing. He guided you out of your room, turning to align himself next to you, and placed your hand over his arm. You wondered if he had looked into these gentlemanly customs or if they were similar to Chiss culture. Thrawn made everything seem natural, so it was hard to tell. 

"Is everything alright?" he asked as he began leading you toward the gala. 

Shit, you groaned internally. Of course he noticed how flustered you were. Your hand was resting on his bicep and you were fighting to not take note of how firm it felt.  

"Oh yes," you said quickly, trying to save face. "Just worried about the plan, is all."

"I see," he said in his soft and careful tone. "There is no reason to worry. Our plan is solid, and I spent the afternoon putting a few final details in place. We need only play our parts this evening and it will all work out."

You nodded, though you didn't exactly feel better. Thrawn was only playing a part. You knew you shouldn't have expected anything different, but it still hurt to think about, especially now that you were both dressed up and walking so closely alongside each other. You would just have to get over yourself, you decided. Play the part. Get through the evening.

And it would surely be an interesting evening, if nothing else.

Next Chapter: The Party >

Blueberry Path | Thrawn x reader

Cowboy Path | Eli x reader

[captainsourwolf]

postcard friend

link’s only friend as a kid ends up moving to georgia. they’re young, not even in kindergarten yet, and gregg just up and moves, leaves him alone with all the kids at daycare that pick on him. of course he cries about it and goes to his mama and she helps him figure something out: postcards! they’ll send a postcard to gregg’s new georgia address and it’ll be like he never left.

little link of course is ecstatic to know he can still keep in touch with his friend. he’s up bright and early the first sunday after gregg leaves because his mama promised they’d go to the dollar store and find his first postcard before church. in the store, he makes a beeline for the postcards sitting on a spinny rack by the birthday cards. it only takes him a few minutes to pick one out that he knows gregg will like--a hunting dog just like the one his parents had--and drag his mama to the checkout. he’s determined he’s the one that’s going to pay for it so he slaps his quarters down as far as he can reach and happily leaves with his postcard clutched in his hands.

instead of paying attention in church, link uses the hymnal as a solid surface to write on his card with the blue pen his mama keeps in her purse in case the one in her bible case runs out. of course at four years old it’s mostly scribble, but he at least knows how to write his own name and gregg’s name, minus one g because he always forgets the extra g. mama usually scolds him for not paying attention but she knows how excited he is about his postcard so she leaves him be, only tweaking his ear once when he doesn’t bow his head to pray at the end. he sends up a silent, tiny prayer that his postcard makes it to georgia.

after church he gets behind his mama and pushes her to the car, desperate to get that card in the mail. she’s explained to link many times that the mail doesn’t run on sunday’s so it doesn’t matter how much urging he does, it won’t be picked up till monday morning. but still he pushes because he wants to make sure he doesn’t forget. they go home and he hopes out of the backseat, shoves the card into the mailbox, lifts the flag, then runs back inside to help with lunch.

link is so excited about the mail monday morning that he asks his mama if he can sit outside to wait, just to make sure the mailman gets his postcard out. she says yes, “just make sure to put your coat on, it’s windy out there.” so link yanks on his coat around the time the mailman comes and goes outside to wait. and when he does, link jumps off the top step, only scrapes his knee a little bit, and goes to greet the mailman.

“did you see the postcard?” he tugs on the mailman’s sleeve and waits.

“sure did. to georgia, huh?” link grins and nods and watches as his postcard disappears into the bag with their neighbor’s mail.

“how long will it take?”

“should be there by wednesday. that’s two days away.” the mailman tips his hat at link, pats his bag, and heads off to the next house.

link yells his thanks then runs off inside to tell his mama gregg will be getting his first postcard by wednesday.

gregg gets that first postcard. and his mama calls link’s mama and tells her all about it. link listens in and gets to talk to gregg for a few minutes before they have to go. links says his goodbye and gregg says his thanks for the postcard and it’s set, link is gonna send him another one.

for a few months link sends gregg one postcard a week. he saves up every coin he can find--couch cushions, out on the sidewalk, around the park, anywhere he sees a coin just laying around he picks it up and puts it in his “postcard money” jar. his mama gives him a quarter every time he helps her with the chores and she gives him whatever spare change she had leftover from grocery shopping. he uses it every week to buy a new postcard. every sunday he scribbles his note out to gregg, with gregg’s name minus one g because he still forgets, and signs his name. and every sunday he puts it in the mailbox with the flag up. every monday he sits and waits for the mailman to come get it. and every wednesday he awaits gregg’s call to confirm he received it.

occasionally link will get a postcard in return. it’s always something silly and signed with gregg’s name. but after those first few months he stops getting them. he stops getting the phone call, too. it stings but he’s little, he’ll bounce back. he knows gregg has never been the most affectionate child. but he’ll keep sending them because it’s his friend and he just wants to keep in touch with his friend. so he keeps sending them.

but unbeknownst to little link neal, gregg and his family moved again a couple of weeks back. into his house moved the mclaughlins. two boys and two parents and a dog. five year old rhett isn’t so sure about moving to the this part of georgia. he liked their old house; it had a big back yard and they were planning on getting a pool and all his friends are there. but after a few days of living there he figures it isn’t so bad because he found a postcard in the pile of mail that was left behind. addressed to someone named gregg with two g’s and signed by someone with some weird name, link, and a bunch of kid scribble. but it made him smile seeing the postcard and the picture on the back. this one has a dog wearing sunglasses and, hey, it kinda looks like his dog.

over the first month of living there the mailbox has three more postcards slipped into it. still to gregg with two g’s and signed by weird name link. each one is a different dog. it’s almost christmas time so the third one has a dog wearing a santa hat. he likes this one the most so he hangs it up on the cork board above his desk in his bedroom. the others he rubber bands together and stores them in a box. maybe one day he’ll send one back, ask who this gregg dude is, find out who link is.

one day.

so it continues this way for a few more months. link doesn’t get discouraged about gregg never sending a postcard or calling every wednesday. instead he keeps sending them. he’s sure that one day gregg will send one back or call. his mama tries to discourage him from sending them so often but he won’t listen. he likes picking them out, he likes writing on them and signing his name, he likes putting them in the mailbox and watching them get picked up the next day. he just knows they’re arriving on time every wednesday.

as time goes on link goes from one postcard a week to one every two weeks. he’s in school now and has other things to do, but he still enjoys the postcards. he never gets a reply or a phone call, but that’s okay. someone must be getting them and reading them and he hopes whoever it is enjoys them as much as he does.

and in georgia, as time goes on, rhett’s cork board fills up to the point he has to change it out every few months. but he doesn’t throw the postcards away. instead he adds them to the rubber banded ones and keep them in his box under his bed. his mama didn’t understand why in the world he kept getting postcards for someone named gregg but she saw how much rhett enjoyed it and let it continue. the box gets full fast over a couple of years and he has to get a new one. he labels the boxes “link’s postcards” and decides that one day he’s gonna go to this buies creek place and find this link kid.  

in third grade, john carson knocks link to the ground after school and calls him names--girly, gay, a sissy. he has no one to stick up for him so he tells no one about what happened. until he gets home. he’s had a new postcard sitting on his desk for a week now. he forgot to send it because, well, he’s been a little down about never getting one in return or even a phone call. but this time he sits down and he starts writing. as the years have gone by he’s started writing actual notes to gregg (he remembers the extra g now) and every time he feels a little silly. but it makes him feel better knowing someone might be reading them and listening to him, whether it’s really gregg or not.

“gregg, wish you were here. today was a bad day. a really bad day. mama doesn’t understand, but you would. i don’t have any friends, not really. i’m all alone. please come back.--link”

he doesn’t cry when he puts it in the mailbox, he doesn’t. but he does sniffle and wipe his nose on his shirt sleeve where there’s still some dirt and blood where he scraped his palm. with a little sigh he flips up the flag and goes back inside. mama hugs him and lets him pick out the pizza they’re gonna order for supper and for a little while all is right with the world.

and when rhett gets that postcard his little third grade heart breaks for this kind he doesn’t even know. but, well, he feels like he knows link. he’s been on the receiving end of his postcards for a few years now and even though they’re always for someone named gregg, rhett likes it all the same. he has a postcard friend that he’s never met. so when he sees this one, with its words of hurt and loneliness, he decides it’s time to reply. he begs his mama to take him to the store, “right now mama it’s important!” she sighs and takes him and he picks out the prettiest postcard he can find. it’s got a sunset on it, oranges and pinks and purples and navy peeking over the horizon and a field of tulips. he pays for it with his allowance and clutches it in his fists all the way home.

immediately upon returning, rhett rushes to his room and starts writing. he addresses it dear link and spends an hour penning the perfect postcard note. his handwriting is sloppy and slanted but he thinks he did a good job. he doesn’t sign it, just leaves it be, and runs downstairs to put it in the mailbox.

two days later link comes running inside after checking the mail and screams at his mama that he got a postcard from gregg’s address. but he frowns seeing that gregg didn’t sign it. shrugging, he takes it upstairs and reads it and when he’s finished he feels like maybe this isn’t his friend after all. but who could it be/

“dear link, i’m sorry that you’re alone and having a bad day. but you’re not alone. you’ve got me! your postcard friend. i’ve kept every one that you’ve sent the last few years. you should see the boxes! they’re HUGE! i’ll have to get a new box soon. anyway, can’t wait for your next postcard. i’ll be here.”

when he gets another postcard a couple of weeks later, link is convinced now it isn’t gregg but instead another person. for a moment he’s concerned it could be some creep. his mama has warned him about those people and shown him pamphlets, but it can’t be a creep. this person is too nice. so he starts wondering. is it a kid his age? younger? a little older? is it a boy or a girl? do they have siblings or pets? all kindsa thoughts run through his head that night. one thing’s for sure though, he isn’t letting this postcard friend go.

so time keeps moving forward. link keeps buying and sending postcards to his new friend. he confides in them in everything and they always send something back. sometimes it’s a silly joke to cheer him up, or a cartoon of the two of them meeting, or confiding in link as well. from the numerous postcard conversations they’ve had since third grade, when he got his first response from this new friends, he’s learned a few things.

one: it’s a boy his age but no name yet, and he has a brother

two: he can draw pretty good

three: he likes dogs, video games, and girls

four: he likes to eat

and five: he’s just as lonely as link sometimes

the last one--learned from many postcards about parental problems, pets dying, people picking on him at school for his height--always makes link sad. and yet he’s glad to know he’s not alone in his loneliness. in a way, this postcard friend has made him less lonely. he has someone he can talk to, even though he only knows them as “postcard friend” and have never seen his face. his mama likes that he has a friend but is concerned it could end badly if things keep going this way.

in high school, when link is a freshman, he gets picked on a lot. he’s shy and he’s quiet, sits in the back of each lass and pens his newest postcard during study hall. he doesn’t do any extracurriculars except soccer and sometimes he’ll keep score for the swim team. and he always keeps in touch with his friend. but he’s getting anxious to know this boy’s name and what he looks like. so one day he decides he’ll send a school picture with his next card. it’s a dumb looking one with a bowl cut and weird eyebrows but it will do.

when rhett sees the picture attached to the postcard he’s taken aback. he wasn't expecting a picture, almost thought he would go the rest of his life never knowing what link looks like, and yet here he is, brown hair and blue eyes and the brightest smile rhett’s ever seen on a boy. he rubs his thumb across the picture, the name link and the boy before him becoming one, and immediately tucks the picture into the corner of his cork board next to the card. then he sets about doing the same thing. he’s had a new postcard waiting to send for a few days and now he grabs it and attaches his school picture, signs the card rhett for the first time in years. he grins the whole way back to the mailbox.

link isn’t expecting a picture, much less a name. he sees a boy with blonde hair and green-grey eyes and a half-smile and the name rhett, and something squeezes in his chest. much like rhett hundreds of miles away he rubs his thumb over the picture, over the name, and finds a special place to put them both. all his postcards aren’t on display, instead they’re tucked away in a photo album and neatly placed on his bookshelf. but this one gets taped to his wall, over his desk, so he can see it every time he writes a new letter to his postcard friend--no, rhett, his friend rhett.

high school comes and goes along with numerous postcards and pictures. link writes short notes, long notes, sometimes just a few simple words that he knows will make rhett happy. he tells rhett about the girl he likes, and this boy he’s friends with and waits patiently for a rejection that never comes. he tells him about his mom’s new boyfriend and the kids he has and in reply he gets a story about rhett’s brother that makes him laugh so hard he forgets about the older half-sister that doesn’t want him around. and he tells rhett about his college fears, where he wants to go, what he wants to major in (“nc state, film, and a dorm by myself because what if someone doesn’t wanna live with a weirdo like me?”). he has a cork board now that he pins all the pictures sent to him. pictures of rhett playing basketball, at prom, with his brother, with his parents, with his dog, standing in front of the collegehe wants to go to.

in georgia, high school comes and goes and so many postcards and pictures. rhett tells link everything. for someone that’s only seen him through pictures, never heard his voice, and vice versa, he sure feels like link is his best friend in the whole world. he tells link about the fight he had with his dad about playing basketball in college. he tells him about the girl he might have a crush on and leaves out the part about the blue-eyed, dark-haired, bright smiley boy he knows he has a crush on. he talks about college and where he wants to go and what he wants to do but is being forced to do as a compromise for quitting basketball (“UGA, film school engineering, an apartment off campus with my friends tim and ben, you’d love them if you met them.”). his cork board is full of pictures of link. link with his dog tucker that passed away, he and his mama, playing in the mud in his backyard after a heavy rain, he and his grandparents at nc state, just him smiling at the camera and the sun’s hitting his eyes just right so they’re a brilliant crystalline blue.

the first couple years of college, link loses touch with rhett a tiny bit. the number of postcards he sends has decreased to one a month because he’s so busy with classes, but it’s okay because he knows rhett is busy too. the ones they do send to each other are filled with silly college stories, dorm and apartment complaints, new friends, which professors are their favorites, which classes are their favorites and least favorites, so much sometimes that it takes an extra piece of paper taped to the postcards to finish writing their letters next to each other. link keeps the notes attached and slips them in their designated slot in the his photo albums that he brought with hims to college. and the pictures he keeps taped to his wall, right next to his bed so he can see rhett’s face every morning and every night. he feels a little guilty he’s been slacking with the postcards but plans to pick it back up during summer break.

it’s been too long between cards that last two years. he needs to remedy that.

at uga rhett has his boxes of postcards in the top of his small closet. tim and ben tease him about his collection of cards and pictures, but he doesn’t care, he loves every single world and photo. he doesn’t like that these couple of years have seen a greater amount of time between cards, but they’re both busy with classes, he knows this. but still, he feels like he could be losing his grip on the best friend he’s never met.

come summer link’s plans to send a postcard every week start out fine. but then he meets someone. she’s blonde and pretty, a smile like sunshine and a personality that reminds him of someone he’s never met hundreds of miles away. it’s a summer romance and when he finally remembers, he sits down and tells rhett all about it and her. (“she’s beautiful and smart and even though i’ve only had one person to compare it to, i think i love her. rhett, she’s perfect!”)

in georgia, rhett crumples the postcard and its attached letter in his hands after he reads it. the picture inside shows link, his brightest smile, and his arm around the pretty blonde with a smile like sunshine. they’re so perfect together it hurts and he ignores the looks he gets when he tosses all of it in the trash. and an hour later he’s digging them out because it’s link, and now it’s link and her and he can’t lost the one connection he has to the best friend he’s ever had.

except he does. over time, the postcards are few and far between. when they do come it’s all about her, or it’s all about film classes, or it’s all about the life that he’s creating for himself finally. link is happy and rhett isn’t a part of that. has he ever been? so he packs up the postcards and the pictures, except for the one of link smiling into the camera. it’s his favorite. and then he pulls out the last postcard he bought--a sunset over uga that says “wish you were here.” he sits and he tells link goodbye and that he’s the only best friend he’s ever had and will ever have. he mails it and shoves the boxes to the back of the closet where they’ll stay.

and link--

link gets that postcard and it crushes him. goodbye? rhett can’t say goodbye! he’s the only real friend link has, except...except they’ve never truly met. maybe this was meant to happen one day. so he puts it in a slot in the photo album and he packs all of them u and he says a silent goodbye to his postcard friend.

years go by. link graduates and he proposes and they move to la. the tiny house they get together is cute and the perfect reflection of their life together. when they move link almost doesn’t take the packed up postcards with him. but she gently nudges him and softly tells him to take them, he’ll regret it otherwise. she’s always right so he takes them and in their new house the boxes sit in the back of their closet. and with those? he puts all of the one’s he’s written since the last one, almost five years ago now. rhett might’ve said goodbye but link has still kept in touch, even if he never sent them.

once they’re settled and he has his new job set up, he its down and he writes a letter. he attaches it to a postcard with a picturesque view of la, a picture of himself she took, sends it off to rhett’s old georgia address that used to be gregg’s, and hopes it’ll reach him through his parents. he has no way of knowing so he forgets about it when he never receives a reply. and so he moves on.

years go by for rhett, too. he graduates and he meets a girl that’s fiery and passionate and the perfect compliment to his calm demeanor. she’s brunette and short and has a personality that reminds him of someone he used to know and love. he gets a job with a top notch engineering firm, he moves in with his girl not far from his parents. and his boxes of postcards? he leaves them in the garage underneath a few boxes of knick knacks from his childhood. and with them he packs up a bundle of postcards he’s written but never sent. he doesn’t know where link is anyway, it’s no use, so he puts them away. but she notices his discontent sometimes and she knows all about link, how he could not tell her? he leaves out the part where he thinks maybe at some point he loved the boy he never met, his long lost postcard friend, and instead tells her about everything else. and one day she surprises him with a postcard that’s plain and simple with a yellow house and a white picket fence and a dog.

rhett writes to link and attaches it to the postcard with a picture of himself sitting in his new cubicle and sends it off to link’s old buies creek address he’s never forgotten. and how could he? he has years worth of cards with that very address on it, he couldn’t forget it if he tried. but he never receives a reply and so he moves on.

link loves his job. he loves it so much. and he loves her, his life, but he has the nagging feeling something is missing. it’s been about three more years and he’s still engaged, not married, not yet, because something doesn’t feel right. but it’s okay. he’s pretty happy. until one day he’s checking the mail after work. she’s not home yet so she doesn’t see the shock on his face when he sees the postcard with the yellow house and the white picket fence and the dog.

there’s a note attached and a picture. it’s rhett and he’s everything link thought he would be. his breath catches and he stands outside, at the mailbox, reading until he goes cross eyed from reading it so many times. rhett writes to him from georgia still, dated three years back; it must’ve gotten lost in the mail between buies creek and la. he’s got a girl and a home a great job. (“wish you were here, link. i miss you and i miss these postcards. hope you’re well. maybe one day…”)

it’s been long enough so he wonders if this rhett still exists. without thinking he packs an overnight bag and gets a cab to the airport and leaves. he flies to georgia, to his postcard friend, to the one person in his life he’s ever loved without knowing just how fiercely until now.

and rhett? he doesn’t receive a long lost postcard, but he does get sentimental one day. he open the boxes and he starts going through the memories. the words of loneliness, the funny stories, the woes of school and girls and maybe boys, everything. and he comes across one, the first one he got about link’s new girl, and he’s reading it, thinking about how he felt in that moment. he stops on one phrase (“i’ve only had one person to compare it to”) and he stares and stares. then something clicks. link only ever had him. him!

he’s about to leave, postcard in hand, when there’s a knock on the door. quickly he rushes out of the garage, not really caring who’s at the door. he needs to pack a bag, get to the airport, hunt down link and only link. but the knocking is insistent. with a frustrated groan he hurries to the front door and flings it open, ready to tell whoever it is to leave, he has more important things to do right now.

on the other side is a man. dark hair, glasses, a graphic tee under a plaid shirt, blue eyes, and the brightest smile rhett has only ever seen on one person. clutched in his hand is a postcard with a yellow house and a white picket fence and a dog, and in the other hand is a picture. he holds it out in a shaky hand and looks up at rhett, smile growing.

“rhett?”

rhett nods and knows, without a doubt, this is his postcard friend, his long lost boy, his link.

“link?”

(”wish you were here you’re here”)

[imagesbyele]

My first attempt at a premium theme: Spring theme! The price is 2 euro or any donation you'd like to make! Send me an ask/im for it, even just a ‘hey I’d like your spring theme’ and I’ll link you my ko-fi or paypal. 

previews in the source. If you buy like or reblog, if you don’t buy and you’d like to help me get some visibility, you can reblog anyway (and just like the post if you like it, or donate regardless to give a hand) <3

What do you get with this 'spring' theme, which is probably the first of a season collection, besides of course the exact look you see in the preview 1? (you can check the previews to see most of what I'm talking about)

This theme is first of all responsive: you will be able to see everything, from posts to links to sidebar, in every device no matter how small, down to 320w x 340h tiny mobile screens. [On tablets/phones the navi links will simply move above the screen, then you'll have the title, description and finally the container.]

There is an optional dropdown menu for your updates and a searchbar, npf posts fix ( @ glenthemes ) so photos uploaded from your phone always show correctly, pxu photosets so photosets always resize correctly, minimal soundcloud player, video resizing script ( @shythemes and @bychloethemes ), an askbox with a colorful button ( @eggdesign),  the 'can't right-button click nor see the source' script to keep people from stealing it, rounded borders, and instructions all over the html in case you want to bring changes there. Sources are always visible when present, tumblr controls are smaller and grow when you hover over them. Icons by cappuccicons (follow html instructions if you want to replace them) and bgs from pixabay.

It also has animated title and navi links, and your custom pages will appear right under them. Only note is that if you pick 540px posts people with small laptops (1024px) will only be able to see one column of them before they are cut off so max 9 links or they won't fit for them.

Options from the customization page:

-you can upload your own background (toggling off the selectbg option), and a semi-transparent 'overlay’ image on top of your posts, right now it's the same as the overlay you can add to your background.

-you can select: post-size, type of blockquotes, font of your posts, or if you toggled on selectbg’ you can also select one of the 7 spring themed bgs present, as well as adding an optional overlay and gradient on top of them (to remove them you select the blank space instead). Instructions in the html if you want to add the overlay and gradient to a background you uploaded instead (because they conflict with the existence of a background-color and it needs to be removed). -you can toggle on and off: like I said the selectbg option which allows you to upload your own background instead of picking among provided ones, the visibility of the container decorations in case you want them without flowers on the top left and bottom right corners, the like button, your avatar/portrait on the sidebar, the ladybug icon which you can click on to show updates and searchbar, the unnested captions in textposts, the unnested captions in all other posts (if you pick them, the portrait and url of the person who wrote the post will be on top, editable in the unnested captions sections of the html), the background for post-titles which will show you the blog background, the border around unnested captions, the 'spring version' of the description which will be replaced by a regular rectangular one without flower crown, the minimal spotify player (as opposed to one that shows you the big album art), and the fade-out (how things fade when you refresh the page).

-you can type in: the font size of your regular text, the space between images in photosets, your posts background and description background colors (right now it's rgba(234, 211, 248, 80%) for both, except the description has a 90% of visibility, I used rgba because I liked the semi-transparency but you can use whatever you want), the linear-gradient of your container bg colors and of your tumblr audioplayer, the symbol next to your lists, the text of your update (when you click on the ladybug), 7 navigation links and their titles when you hover over them.

What can't you do from the custom page? you need to go to the html editor to edit fonts and sizes of everything else (just search for font-family and font-size) as they go hand in hand, and you need to manually delete the navigation links you don't want or the spinning flower will stay.

A reminder to always toggle on and off everything and to not trust tumblr preview when seen from the editor because it will hide things and mess with images positions, always open the blog in another tab to see your changes.  

And because I’m a nervous wreck at the thought of not giving it for free, a reminder that I’m happy to answer questions - though I can’t guide you every day/through super long complicated editing if you decide to change the entire theme because I’m not always here. If you decide to edit everything you should have some html/css knowledge.

[spinnitegaming]

Fantasy Life (Part 1) - Welcome to Reveria!

Hello and welcome again to my Fantasy Life playthrough! In case you missed it, I'm going to blog on my experience with my favorite, but underrated 3DS game of all time other than Pokemon. You can visit this link to learn more, but other than that, let's start the game!

So do you remember some videos and yourself on how you were stuck on the character creation screen on Final Fantasy 14 Online?

The same thing happened to me with this game! I spent a minute trying to match my character with my online persona, even trying to rely on Fantasy Online avatar so I could get the hair and voice right! Thankfully, choosing a Life was less tedious because the game lets me change it in the middle of the gameplay, so I decided to choose the very same first Life I chose on FLO, which was Paladin.

(Honestly, this is the easiest part of FL's character creation.)

As I mentioned, Life is another name for vocations and job classes in Fantasy Life. So if I mention Life or Lives, I might be talking about job classes or vocations in the game. Or probably the ones my Pokemon have that I'm trying to keep in my current FireRed Nuzlocke at this time of the post.

One small tip if you're planning to play Fantasy Life and Fantasy Life Online yourself: Always start with a Combat Life!

There are three types of Lives: Combat, Gathering, and Crafting. Combat for fighting, Gathering for gathering items. Crafting for...crafting stuff. But it's best if you start with Combat Life if you're starting the game. That way, you can learn how to fight quicker and gather items quicker from monsters. You can choose Gathering first if you want, but I don't recommend Crafting as your first unless you want to die because your only skill is cooking.

And a small spoiler alert for the DLC, but it's mainly gameplay spoilers. Later on in the post-game, I can change my character's appearance with an item. Unfortunately, the only downside is that I can't change my character's name and gender, which is understandable. I don't mind with the female clothing (which according to TV Tropes, female clothing has a lot of them, including the endgame gear), but I may play in a second save file, which I obviously can’t record on my blog due to redundancy, much preferably based on my certain favorite Pokemon Professor. (*coughs* Fanfic Foreshadowing! *coughs*)

But anyway, I named my new character "Spin" (because of character limitations) and started the new game.

(Click "Keep Reading" for the full playthrough post!)

-----

After I fell from my bed and woke up on the floor, my kind landlord, Pam came up to check on me and reminded me of my audience with the king of Castele for my first day as a new Paladin recruit. After I got my royal letter from a postman with a surprisingly good backhand, he directed me to the Guild Office where I could get my Paladin license and gave me her candy as she wished me luck.

Once I got my Paladin license, I heard a disturbance outside the office. I checked it out and saw a strange talking butterfly being harassed by two goofy guys. I know it was strange to see a talking butterfly, but I decided to ignore it and head to the castle.

That was until one of them suggested selling her for Dosh.

(...They're dead.)

Being protective of strange animals and who is against trafficking, I confronted the goofy guys with a knife. But they just grabbed me, shook me down like a ragdoll, and grabbed Pam's Candy from my pockets because I'm Doshless.

(Disclaimer: Most of it I've mentioned in the playthrough didn't really happen in the game, but it's my playthrough and I'm a writer. At least give me a chance to tell my version of FL's story!)

(BTW, had to add this god-tier line.)

After my attempt to rescue the butterfly ended in embarrassment, she thanked me for standing up and this was the part I started to like her and not think of her as a Navi wannabe.

BURN!!!

After we said our farewells, I headed to the castle to get started on my new Life. Unfortunately, the Paladins seemed to miss the memo and just denied me on the grounds that I didn't follow the castle's dress code and commented that I looked like I got out of my bed.

(But I just got out of bed!)

I left in defeat. But then, I saw the talking butterfly again, who also got denied because insects weren't allowed in the castle, which was a bit understandable, but still...

When we meet up again, we decided to go stealthy and let her disguised as my bowtie to get through the Paladins. Although I think it might have worked a bit too much.

Other than that, we finally made an audience to the king of Castele, Erik. Who for some reason looked like he's the Queen's child. After a long speech which I seemed to be the only one who was up, King Erik gave me 300 Dosh and a World Map to help me start my Life along with a Paladin armor.

(Even I'm shocked about it myself...)

With that done, the butterfly and I decided to part ways yet again. However, it kind of stings a bit on my itty-bitty heart. She wasn't like any Navi wannabes I know and she has the guts to insult those goofy guys before. But then, she suggested she want to stay on my neck and I quickly said yes. So welcome to the team, Butterfly!

(I agree!)

Although, calling her "Butterfly" might be a bit too long for me, so for the sake of my sanity, I'll just call her Flutter, which was her English name in the EU release.

After that, I headed to the Paladin Hold located near the castle where I met my Paladin Master, Captain Mustang, who had a big mustache and nose. He gave me a sword and shield to start with and my journey through Reveria has officially begun! But right after I start with the Paladin basics and rank up.

In Fantasy Life, you can get even stronger in any chosen Life by ranking up. You start out as a Novice rank where you spend the whole time learning the basics, getting to know your fellow characters related to it, and doing some big quest to rank up into your true first rank, Fledgling.

For my Paladin Novice quest, I got to learn the basics from my Paladin senpais, Roslyn and Isobel, namely how to use my sword without poking my eye out by accident. However, when we went to Porthos to help me learn how to wield my shield, he mentioned that something has happened in Appleseed Cafe and when he got there, the owner there told us that shipments of Castele Apples were delayed for some reason. I love Apple Juice next to grapes, mango, and orange, so we decided to investigate and stop a bunch of bandits before they took off with the bag of apples.

Turns out, the princess of the castle (who I forgot to mention went missing during my meeting with King Erik earlier) loved Apple Juice, too. And because of my bravery, I was promoted into a Fledging and officially the newest addition to the Paladins.

When I went home, I introduced Pam to my new friend, Flutter and agreed to let her stay with me as a roommate along with giving me a new chair. Keyword being "New" because all I got was an old beat-up chair. Great...

Eventually, I went to bed and my Fantasy Life has begun!

But the next day, I woke up on the floor again.

(Ow...)

After my rude awakening again, I decided to be Flutter's tour guide around Castele and showed her the Goddess Statue. There, we met an old man who told us the origins of Lives and the Life Goddess. Back before Reveria had Lives, the goddess came and helped create the world or something and even heard the wishes of the people. But it turned out that the goddess became a bit annoyed at hearing all of their wishes, that she decided to create Lives and shove it to their faces so they could shut up.

(Oh, wait. That's a bit of a rude retelling, was it? Let me try again.)

The goddess eventually succeeded in convincing people (in a civilized manner) to take a Life and because of that, she became a Life Goddess. However, the old man told us that lately, more people were wishing less, probably because they got what they wanted through hard work and sometimes, trickery and thievery. I'm a bit concerned about it, but Flutter won't stand for it for some reason and took it upon herself to collect wishes. I don't know why, though. But I applaud her determination.

She then asked for my wish, which was to become a writer. It's actually one of the choices prompted to me and honestly, that was my dream in real life and I would never change it for the better. Heck, I'm even living the dream just by doing this playthrough blog right now.

But back to the game, I toured her around the Guild Office where we learned how to switch Lives and multiplayer (which I doubt I can use for this playthrough) and the general store where I got some potion samples from the shopkeeper while Flutter tried them out by drinking most of them.

At this point, I should move forward to the story, but I decided to put it on hiatus so I could focus on trying out the other Lives. This is very important for my playthrough for what was to come. You have the option to skip the Novice tutorials, but I decided not to skip all of them for the sake of my playthrough. However, this is a bit long enough already, so I'll save them in the next post.

So join me next time as I take on all other 11 Lives in the game. It might be a long playthrough of tutorials.

I'll see you guys back in Reveria, probably tomorrow or so once I'm finished all of them. Stay safe and Happy Holidays!

[argylemnwrites]

Why Are We Still Waiting? - Chapter 2

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe)

Word Count: ~4900

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Summary: A trip back to Cordonia, meeting someone new... just not the new person they thought they would be meeting.

Author’s Note: Well, I’ve utterly failed at posting this with any semblance of regularity, but... it’s back. And I’m trying to get back in the habit of more consistent editing/writing (so things don’t take me five times as long because I am rusty). We left Drake and Riley engaged, but with a postponed wedding due to Savannah and Bertrand’s unplanned pregnancy. They just recently had their second child, a little girl, and Drake and Riley are off to Cordonia to meet their niece. To catch up on this series, you can check out the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment masterlist (link in bio).

Drake twisted slightly, stretching out his back as he waited for the rows ahead of them to exit the plane so he could stand up and finally move his legs. He’d gotten more used to flying coach in the past couple of years, but that still didn’t exactly make it a comfortable or enjoyable experience. But there was obviously no way that they could make the trip to Cordonia a few times a year if they didn’t keep the flights as cheap as humanly possible.

As soon as he could, he shifted into the aisle, handing Riley her coat from the overhead bin before grabbing his own jacket and their duffle bags. And then they were off, shuffling through the airport, over to immigration, then off to baggage claim and customs.

Drake pulled out his phone as soon as he and Riley and their luggage were cleared. It was odd that Bastien hadn’t responded. He had texted him when they landed. It had become their habit over the past couple of years. Since Drake had sold his car, having Bastien take it to a dealership for him a few months after he permanently vacated his old quarters at the palace and putting the money towards some furniture for their new apartment, Liam had let him just borrow a car from the palace garage to use during his trips. With expedited immigration and customs, giving Bastien a head’s up when they landed in Cordonia usually worked out pretty perfectly with time, with Bastien waiting for them in short term parking by the time they got out, keys in hand.

But today, he hadn’t confirmed that he’d even seen the text. It was strange. Drake was just about to give him a call, when Riley nudged him with her elbow. 

“Look,” she said, pointing across the concourse. There was a tall man ahead of them, wearing a navy sweater, a pair of jeans, and a bright blue baseball hat pulled very low, almost entirely hiding his dark hair. He was holding a sheet of paper that said “Walker/Liu,” but he wasn’t looking for them. In fact, he was clearly avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Drake just shook his head as he smiled. He should have known.

“Real subtle, Your Majesty,” Drake said as soon as they were close enough that he could drop his voice and still be heard by Liam.

Liam’s head jerked back and forth. “Not so loud!” he hissed out.

“You look so suspicious right now. You know that, right?”

“I’m trying to keep a low profile,” Liam said, shaking his head as he welcomed Drake’s loose hug.

“By doing what, dressing vaguely casual and then acting like someone who is terrified of being picked up by security?” Drake stepped back, shaking his head yet again.

“It’s not that bad.”

“No, Drake’s right. At JFK, you would have been carted off for an interview in some secret back room already,” Riley added before giving Liam a hug herself.

“I used to think your snark was rubbing off on her, but now I’m pretty sure I had that reversed,” Liam said over Riley’s shoulder towards Drake, earning himself a little shove and an eye roll as Riley stepped back. “Come on, let’s get out of here before I get recognized.

The three of them strolled out of the airport into the crisp winter air, the sun bright and blinding even as Riley shivered and handed Drake her duffle bag so that she could put on her coat.

“So what did we do to earn a ride in the royal motorcade?” Drake asked once they were clear of the crowds and vehicles in the drop off zone.

“I thought it might be a fun surprise.”

There was something in Liam’s tone that gave Drake pause. It was just a little too falsely cheery and rapid. There was something he wasn’t telling them. “And?”

He let out a little sigh, “And your mother and aunt decided to stay two extra nights, so they aren’t leaving until tomorrow.”

“Oh,” said Riley, “and who made the call that Leona and I shouldn’t be under the same roof?”

“That’s not the case, Riley,” Liam said with a shake of his head. “Bertrand wanted me to relay a message that you will always be an honorary Beaumont, and that therefore you are always welcome at Ramsford.”

Drake glanced over at Riley to find her already gazing his way. She raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes, and all Drake could do was shrug. Riley and his aunt had clashed pretty intensely during her first trip down to Texas, and things had only gotten worse the next two visits. It was clear someone decided that Riley and Leona shouldn’t be allowed to run into each other if it could be avoided, and Drake didn’t exactly disagree with that thought process. 

"Right," said Riley, “because I'm sure me snapping at her judgemental ass would be much appreciated."

Liam glanced back at Drake, clearly looking to him to see if it was fine to speak candidly. He still was getting used to the fact that Riley didn't need things tied up in a pretty diplomatic bow and honestly preferred blunt assessments. Drake got the sense that Liam still almost felt like it was a trap at times, so used to courtly politics being the norm with everyone but Drake himself. But Drake just gave him a little nod. Riley was self-aware enough of the nature of her relationship with Aunt Leona that she didn’t need Liam to dance around it.

“Well, Maxwell did mention that he thought that… that Caroline might be making enough noise for the estate and there wasn’t a need to add to it.”

Drake let out a chuckle at that, watching as Riley rolled her eyes but otherwise had no reaction. He was pretty sure she vented to Maxwell about his family on occasion, so it wasn't exactly surprising that he was the one who had decided any meetings between Riley and Leona should be avoided if possible. Liam's shoulders relaxed slightly once a few seconds passed and it was clear that Riley wasn't offended by his statement.

"So, I hope you both can forgive the last minute change of plans, but I thought you might find a night at the palace more enjoyable. I know I would like the chance to spend some time with both of you. Plus, there is… well, there is someone I would very much like you both to meet."

"What?"

"Yes. She is waiting over there, by the car."

Drake followed Liam’s gesture and saw a woman standing by a non-descript silver sedan, one of the cars kept in the palace garage for trips where a member of the royal family might need to keep a low profile. They were still far enough away that he couldn’t tell much about what she looked like. This had to be a girlfriend, right? Again, Drake looked over at Riley, wanting to see if she had the same thought. Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows almost comically raised as she mouthed, “What?” at him. Alright, so she agreed. Well, this was definitely going to be interesting.

In all their years of friendship, Drake had never met someone Liam considered to be a girlfriend. In fact, it was rare for Liam to have a girlfriend. The politics, the diplomatic implications, all that shit just made it tough. Or at least that’s what Drake had assumed. It was kind of the whole point of the social season - a safe way for members of the royal family to date.  

As they approached the car, Drake got a better look at the woman in question. She was definitely pretty, with warm brown skin, deep brown eyes, and a wide and gentle smile, even if that smile did look a little strained at the moment. That was likely due to some nerves, as she was twisting her hands in front of her waist. She was also wearing jeans and a sweater, although her sweater was yellow, and her tight curls were pushed back with some sort of sparkly headband. 

“Drake, Riley,” Liam started, standing next to her, his hand sliding along her back, "This is Iris Dertrain. Iris, these are my friends, Drake Walker and Riley Liu."

"It's nice to meet you both," Iris said, reaching out her right hand. "Liam has told me so much about you."

"Oh… uhhh, nice to meet you, too," Drake said, grasping her hand and giving it a shake. He didn't want to throw Liam under the apple truck, but he had told him nothing about this woman.

Liam stepped forward, his hands raised in front of his chest, smiling rather sheepishly. "Iris, I am afraid I haven't mentioned you to either of them."

"Why not?" She pivoted at that, yanking her hands back to her waist, her eyes wide.

Liam reached out, wrapping his hands around hers and stepping up close to her. Instinctively, Drake looked off to the side and slid backwards, giving them as much space and privacy as possible. Liam’s voice dropped off, but he still picked up a few scattered words and phrases, including “too important” and “phone calls.” After a few moments, he chanced a glance back towards them. Iris was nodding as Liam slid his hand off her cheek, so he cleared his throat. 

Iris smiled, then spun around to face Riley, reaching out to shake her hand as well, but Riley wasn’t having any of that, instead wrapping her arms around her in a loose hug.

“Sorry, not gonna do a handshake,” she said, “even if Liam decided it was best to drop you on us without any warning.”

“Riley, I-” Liam started, but she shook her head as she stepped back from Iris.

“First, you change our travel plans by barring us from Ramsford for the night, then you spring a girlfriend on us. Are you trying to make my life hell? You know how he is with the unexpected,” she said, cocking her head towards Drake.

“Hey! I can handle surprises!”

Both Riley and Liam laughed openly at that, which annoyed Drake. Not so much because he thought Riley’s assessment of him was inaccurate, but more because of how much pure glee she and Liam seemed to take in teaming up against him these days. He kind of understood that it was natural, given that they were the two people who knew him best… but still. Oh well, if anything it proved that over the years, Riley and Liam had settled into a comfortable friendship that was their own. And that was something Drake would gladly pay the price of some light ribbing for when it came down to it.

After loading the luggage into the trunk and climbing into the car, they headed off towards the palace. Even though the drive wasn’t that long, Drake was infinitely grateful that Riley was steering the conversation. If it had just been him with Liam and Iris, it would have undoubtedly been stilted, awkward, and formal, no matter how hard Liam would have tried to make things feel natural. But Riley knew how to put people at ease, to keep things flowing.

“So, did Liam have a secret social season he hid from us and the media? Or did you guys meet in a more normal way?”

Iris let out a little laugh at that. “I was one of the teacher representatives on the educational council.”

“So you’re a teacher?”

“Used to be. Now, I work mostly as an administrator, deciding on curriculum changes, making sure schools in different regions are reaching their goals, that sort of thing. That’s why I was on the council - I was lobbying for increased funding so that we could work on reducing classroom sizes in Portavira.”

“Do you miss teaching?”

“Sometimes. I was a science teacher, and there are points when I miss getting to guide my students through experiments, to get to see minds literally learning concepts first hand. But… I taught 12 to 14 year olds, and I do not miss the interpersonal drama that was always brewing between them.”

Riley laughed at that. Even though she was seated behind him, Drake could just picture the way her head was tossed back, her eyes narrowed. It was her genuine laugh, not her fake, customer service laugh. It seemed like with each trip back to Cordonia, the real laugh came out more and more.

“So was it their shitty adolescent angst that pushed you into the admin side of things?”

Riley’s question drew another chuckle from Iris. “No, I’m tougher than that. I just felt like I could do more, make a difference for more students by working for systemic changes. Luckily, we live in a country where our political leaders listen to teachers about how best to educate our children.”

Drake glanced over to Liam, who was smiling broadly at Iris’s comment. “Only a fool would think that he knows everything just because he holds a position of political power.”

“See, I’m lucky.” said Iris.

Somehow, Liam smiled even wider at that. Drake suspected that if asked, Liam would say he was the lucky one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley spun on the couch in the private lounge, swinging her legs up onto the cushions as she took the glass of whiskey Drake offered her and leaned up against his side as he sat back down. Liam and Iris were on the couch across from them, although Riley could tell that Iris wasn’t as relaxed as the rest of them. Sure, she had loosened up a lot over the evening, but there was still this edge of fearing that she didn’t belong in a palace, that she was going to mess this up. It was a feeling Riley knew well.

Of course, Riley could tell that Iris’s fear was not quite the same as the anxiety she had carried during that fateful social season. At first, it had been this belief that she was going to fuck up so badly, let her brash, judgemental, potty-mouthed self shine through, and get kicked out, a joke who was sent packing back to nothing, not even her shitty job since she’d quit that on a whim to fly to a country she’d never heard of before. As time went on, her fears had grown to losing the closest people she had to genuine friends by falling for the wrong guy. She had been a ball of mad nerves by the night of Liam’s coronation.

But Iris’s fears seemed to be centered more on Liam himself. She kept glancing towards him, almost as if she was afraid she was going to let him down or make things difficult for him. It was so much kinder and more selfless than Riley had ever behaved with Liam. It was very sweet to see. 

Liam was equally sweet in response, which wasn’t surprising at all. He could definitely sense her remaining traces of nervousness, as he frequently reached over to hold her hand or to run his hand along her back. It was part of the reason Riley was going for a little more PDA than she would normally be comfortable with  - she wanted them to feel comfortable with their level of PDA.

Iris took a sip of her wine before noticing what Riley was drinking. “Wait, I’m the only one here not drinking whiskey?”

Riley cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’ve always been a hard liquor sort of girl.”

Iris shook her head before drinking a little more of her wine. “I’ve never really had the stomach for it. I can do those fruity cocktails, but straight liquor?” She let out a shudder at that.

“Better get used to it; it’ll be the only way to get through endless balls and galas and fundraisers for rare pigeon species or whatever is the cause du jour,” Drake quipped. Riley nudged her elbow back into his side, causing him to chuckle.

“He’s exaggerating. It’s not that horrible.”

He let out a scoff, so Riley twisted to glare at him.

“Liu, you bitched to me endlessly about how much you hated all the pomp and pretentiousness and-”

“-and she’s not me! Quit scaring her off!” Riley rolled her eyes at him before spinning back around to Iris. “You seem much less bitchy than me, so I’m sure you’ll be fine. After all, you’ve taught preteens, so that proves you are way more patient and tolerant,” she said, waving her hand in what she hoped was a reassuring way. “Who have you met so far?”

“Only Olivia Nevrakis.”

“Yikes, you really led with her?” Drake called out to Liam, causing Riley to elbow him yet again.

Liam just chuckled. “You know, she can be rather pleasant if she isn’t being antagonized endlessly.”

“Are you kidding me? She always starts it.”

Iris just gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. I only met her for one dinner, but she didn’t seem cruel or unwelcoming. And her boyfriend was quiet, but seemed nice.”

Riley felt Drake moving beside her as she leaned forward, her eyes jumping to Liam. His eyes were pinched shut as he winced, bracing for the inevitable questions.

"What the hell?"

"Olivia has a boyfriend?"

"Oh crap, was that a secret?" Iris looked horrified at her slip up, twisting around to glance at Liam.

He let out a short sigh. "Well, she hasn't gone public with him yet."

"I just thought that was only because Christopher’s divorce wasn't finalized."

Riley could practically feel the joy rolling off Drake in waves as Liam's slight wince turned into a full on grimace. 

"Olivia's dating a married man?"

Liam shook his head. "He has been separated from his wife for over a year now. And I would appreciate you two keeping this to yourselves for the moment. You know how Olivia values her privacy."

"We won't tell a soul," Riley said, nudging Drake with the side of her foot to keep him quiet.

"Sure, but Iris, what other of Olivia's dark secrets do you want to spill?" he teased, ignoring Riley's gesture, instead grinning at her when she shot him a glare. All she could do was roll her eyes.

"I had no idea that it was a secret! Oh Liam, how mad is she going to be?"

"It'll be fine; I promise you. Drake and Riley aren't going to tell anyone, right?" he asked, staring at both of them pointedly.

"Of course. We live in New York; no one cares about Cordonian gossip there," Riley said, trying to lighten the mood and calm Iris's worries.

"Besides, we like you enough to spare you from the she-devil's wrath."

Liam just shook his head. "Drake… Olivia's not that bad. She can just be… intense."

Riley nodded at that. "She’s honestly probably one of the harder ones to impress, so if you feel like she was fine with you, I don’t think you have much to worry about. Except Neville. And Madeleine if she’s still around.”

Liam shook his head. “She’s still in London. No one here has seen her for a year or so.”

“So then just Neville. Otherwise, they’re largely harmless. Just varying degrees of out of touch. Nothing a few cocktails won't help you tolerate.” Liam shook his head gently at Riley’s assessment. She still sometimes felt a little weird being completely honest about her perceptions of things in front of him. He was so kind, and she… well, she knew she judged everyone. But Liam claimed he appreciated honesty from her, and he’d never made her feel bad for sharing her thoughts, so she always made an effort not to censor herself in front of Liam. Well, not too much. He was still a king, after all.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out in a couple weeks,” Iris said, dropping her eyes to her lap and tracing her fingers along the stem of her wine glass.

Liam nodded. “You’ll do fine, love. I know you will,” he said, running his hand along her arm. “Iris will be attending the Twilight Ball at the end of the month as her first official appearance,” he clarified to Drake and Riley.

“So you’ll be going public then?” Drake asked.

“Yes, that’s the plan,” said Iris. “My letter of resignation is being reviewed by the palace PR department currently, and once I submit that, things should be clear for us."

Riley frowned at that. Iris had seemed to really love her job when she talked about it. "You're resigning?"

Iris tilted her head off to the side as she gave a little shrug. "It could be perceived as a conflict of interest. The teachers aren't going to believe I am advocating for their best interests if I am in a relationship with him. And his critics are going to accuse him of being unobjective in his policy decisions due to our relationship."

Riley felt Drake shift against her. "That's… that's a big step," he said.

Iris opened her mouth to respond, but Liam placed a hand on her knee, essentially stopping her. "Yes, it is. Iris and I have had several frank discussions about how complicated my life is, and she asked me if this would be beneficial. Neither one of us has taken this decision lightly.”

Considering how little thought Drake had put into dropping his whole life to move to New York, Riley didn’t really feel like he had a leg to stand on here, questioning Iris’s decision to leave her job for a relatively young relationship. But she also knew that Drake sometimes liked to play devil’s advocate with Liam, even if he didn’t personally disagree with Liam’s decisions. So she didn’t say anything, but instead just glanced over to Iris to see how she was handling it all.

She didn’t look too fazed, but she was squinting at Drake slightly, almost as if she was trying to read him. “Are you worried for him or for me?” she finally asked after a couple of seconds. “Because it would make sense for you to worry about him, but I don’t understand how me quitting my job would be at all harmful to Liam.”

Riley twisted around slightly to look at Drake. He gave a little shrug and took a sip of his whiskey. “Don’t want to see either of you get trapped.”

“This isn’t locking us into anything. I can go back to teaching at any time; I’m just stepping down from my more activist-like role.”

"Sure, but you're going to get a lot of media attention regardless here. Are you ready for that?"

This time it was Liam who started to speak, but Iris jumped right back in. “I can’t know for sure, of course, but I think so. I’ve given speeches and interviews before as part of my work, and while that was obviously on a much smaller scale, I never had a problem with the media.”

“And I wouldn't make this public if I wasn’t sure, Drake. You know that.”

 Drake gave a nod. “Okay then. Don’t fully trust anyone besides Liam, though.”

And that was it. Drake leaned back, relaxing fully into the couch, as Liam took a drink from his glass. Sometimes, Riley felt like they had their own little language, their private way of communicating, but she supposed that was only natural after decades of friendship. She caught eyes with Iris, looking almost bewildered at the shift of the energy in the room and gave her a little shrug. Iris smiled and raised her eyebrows. It was nice, having someone else who got to observe the weirdness that was the friendship between those two.

“Alright, so cautious and careful with the members of court. Any other tips for me on how to handle my first ball?” Iris asked.

Everyone else in the room burst out laughing at her question, erasing any last traces of tension.

“What?”

“You could not have picked two worse people to ask,” Riley said, shaking her head. “He’s just going to tell you to get drunk and avoid everyone.”

“Oh, like that wasn’t your strategy by the end as well! How many times did you just straight up steal my flask off of me because they were only offering wine and champagne?”

“I was just making sure you didn’t have to drink alone. It was simply out of concern for you that-”

“-Uh huh. Yeah.”

“Fine. To answer your question, Iris, do the exact opposite of what I did. And as long as you don’t show up in denim to the ball, you’ll be a step ahead of this one.”

“Wait, you wore denim to a formal ball?”

“Oh, not just one!” added Liam, a huge grin spreading across his face, his eyes lighting up as he stared Drake down. “Years and years of formal events saw Drake decide that denim was the most appropriate attire.”

Iris’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. She glanced around the room, almost as if she expected someone to pop out and tell this was some massive prank.

“We aren’t kidding,” Riley said, “He and I just set the bar insanely low for you to clear. Wear a nice ballgown, don’t openly refer to other members of the nobility as ‘little bitches,’ and you should be all set.”

Iris glanced between her and Drake, the shock evident in her wide eyes.

“Yeah, so not exactly surprising we left court,” Drake said, downing the rest of his whiskey.

Iris just shook her head. “Liam told me many things about both of you, but I feel like he left out that you were so…”

“Irreverent?”

“Mad stubborn?”

“Damn foolish?”

She smiled and took a sip of her wine. “I’ll defer to your descriptions. So, I take it your wedding won’t be very formal?”

Riley felt Drake shift slightly next to her, his knee starting to fidget. “Uh no, not at all. To put things in perspective, we invited less than 25 people the first time, and we might do even less now.”

“The first time?”

“Drake and Riley ended up postponing,” Liam said, his eyes flickering over to Drake before glancing back at Iris, “They were originally set to get married this past June.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea! I never would have brought it up if-”

“-It’s fine,” Drake said, cutting off Iris’s apology. “Something came up with my family last minute.”

Iris looked conflicted as to how to best move on from the topic of conversation she’d innocently stumbled into. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that you had to make that choice. Have you set a new date?”

Drake tensed up at that and Riley had to hold back a sigh. If only Iris could have decided to change the subject instead of talk through it. “No, we haven’t yet.”

"Soon, though," Drake added before standing up, walking over to the side of the room to refill his glass.

Iris looked worried that she had said something horribly offensive, so Riley just gave her what she hoped came across as a reassuring smile as she shook her head lightly. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just something that had to happen.”

She could hear ice clinking into a glass, but she resisted the urge to spin around and see just how tense and uptight Drake was. She knew that as the months had passed by, the postponement had become more and more of a sore spot for him, that Drake was frustrated that they couldn’t just plan their wedding over again right away, that they had to save up again after losing all their deposits for a late cancellation. She just didn’t understand why he had gotten so stuck on this one thing. They still lived together, they still had a future together, and they were still getting married. Nothing had changed. Yet as the months had rolled by, the topic of their wedding seemed to just make him more and more antsy each time it got brought up. 

Part of her wondered how much of this was due to the fact that everyone else around them was making these big life changes, and much like being back at court, he felt like he was just being left off to the side. Hana and Catherine were married. Savannah and Bertrand had another baby. Back home, Luke and Nicole had just announced they were pregnant. And now Liam was in a relationship that seemed mad serious. It probably was creating this weird sense of being an outsider for him again. She was sure that had to be a factor.

Deep down, she knew it was very sweet that Drake’s frustrations largely stemmed from that fact that he just wanted to be married to her. But part of her wished he could just relax about it all. They would get married when they got married, and until then, they should just enjoy their lives together. Instead, it all seemed to just stress him out.

But until they saved up enough for new deposits and got things planned and organized again, Riley knew that she was just going to have to deal with his… moodiness around this whole topic. As he rejoined her on the couch, she placed her hand on his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze, just hoping that was enough to provide some reassurance and to calm him down. She didn’t want their entire trip to have those worries hanging over their heads. This was supposed to be a fun and happy visit, after all.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff @sarahx206

Drake x MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake

ICWAM: @thequeenchoices @sunnyxdazed​

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (5/6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  (@geraskier-trashh​ @negativenuggetz​)

A/N: oh lord this wasn’t supposed to be 3k words long XD Hope you like it tho!

***

It was a bad idea to tell Geralt not to wear all black. Well, the scarf is grey and the coat and the shoes are black, but they don’t matter. Geralt’s just taken them off to reveal a three-piece suit and a shirt with two top buttons undone, the clothing in a deep, navy blue colour. His eyes stand out beautifully against it. Geralt in navy blue makes Jaskier want to weep and it’s only half-past noon. To add to Jaskier’s tragic swoon, Geralt’s hair is braided away from his face into a lovely plait at the back of his head (which Jaskier suspects is Ciri’s doing). It just shouldn’t look as good as it does. Geralt is so stunning today that words other than what the fuck do not begin to cover it.

Not to blurt out that in lieu of a greeting, Jaskier spreads his arms wide and exclaims, “Ahoy, captain!”

Geralt snorts with disgust. “Never say that again.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Come in, come in,” he says as he ushers Geralt into the living room, “make yourself at home. Are you hungry? It’s last chance for a snack before I put on some eyeliner and we’re off!”

“Eyeliner?” Geralt repeats with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, to finish off this look!” he replies as he gestures at the floral Gucci suit he’s wearing. The outfit’s actually demure considering his usual fashion choices. Bright colours and ridiculous patterns are his go-to but today is the first day of his life when he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. Much. “Help yourself with something from the kitchen if you want,” he says over his shoulder, already leaving for the bathroom.

The makeup takes just a minute or two – eyeliner application has become much less of dark magic with practice. He decides to put on some pretty pink lip gloss as well because, although he’s going to spare his family today and won’t flaunt his queerness at them, he still has to do something. It’s not at all because he hopes his fiancé might like it.

(Geralt’s suit)

(Jaskier’s suit)

When he strides into the living room, he poses like a model and asks, “How do I look?”

Geralt, who sits on the couch, stares him up and down. His gaze almost makes Jaskier blush, so does his smirk. Both border on appreciative. “Really good,” he says.

Since Jaskier expected some mean comment, he almost topples over in shock at the compliment. He sputters, definitely flushing a bit, but quickly re-establishes a working link between his mouth and his brain. “Of course I do, darling,” he replies with a wink. Geralt smirks in that sexy way again. Jaskier has to give himself a good mental shake to stop staring. Clearing his throat, he starts thinking out loud, “So! Have I got everything for the party? I’ve got Geralt, and then the present, and then... Ah! The rings!”

Jaskier sits down next to Geralt and pulls the box out of the pocket of his jacket. Raising the lid, he reveals two rings seated within, one silver and one gold. “Should I kneel?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Geralt growls.

Jaskier laughs with delight, then takes out the silver ring and passes it to Geralt. It’a simple but chunky band with tiny engravings. Jaskier figured Geralt wouldn’t appreciate anything too showy. Geralt takes it and inspects what’s engraved on it. “What kind of flowers are those?” he asks.

“Buttercups,” Jaskier explains, “That’s what my name means. My grandma always told me I’m a jaskier.”

Pretty but poisonous. It’s extremely fitting.                                    

Geralt only hmms and slides the ring on his finger. It’s a perfect fit but it’s no thanks to Jaskier’s genius deduction or anything; he simply knew Geralt’s ring size because Geralt told him. After their phone conversation regarding ring preferences, family drama and other things, they kept talking. Geralt even began starting conversations by himself – he’d send some texts about Ciri like “Ciri says hi” or “Ciri’s playing that song again”. It made Jaskier melt every time.

“Look what you bought me in return, darling,” he says, smiling excitedly, and puts on the gold ring. It’s much more flashy than Geralt’s – a signet with a three-dimensional head of a wolf. “White Wolf” is apparently Geralt’s nickname and a pseudonym of sorts. Wolves are his favourite animals, too.

Jaskier holds out his hand, putting it next to Geralt’s on the couch, and admires the rings on their fingers. “They suit us,” he says quietly

Geralt hmms. “They do.”

The drive is two hours long. Geralt insisted on driving even though it’s Jaskier’s car. Jaskier has a suspicion that driving is an excuse not to listen to him as he’s going over the essential family drama, but it’s mostly for his own sake anyway. He just wants to delude himself that Geralt will be well-prepared for everything and all will go smoothly. They will be fine. They must.

When they pull up in front of Jaskier family’s mansion, panic and second thoughts wash over him alternately in cold and hot waves. As they walk out of the car and Geralt hands him the keys, Jaskier hides within himself and observes the reality unravel a sense of detachment. He doesn’t want to be a part of the upcoming disaster.

“Ready?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier only looks at him helplessly. Geralt offers him his arm and Jaskier takes it like a lifeline. He clutches on it, the touch grounding him, as they walk towards the front door silently.

“Should’ve guessed you were rich,” Geralt remarks as he takes in the mansion looming before them.

“My success in music is all my own,” Jaskier replies feistily, “it took me ten years.”

Geralt wisely doesn’t say anything else and Jaskier settles down, letting out a shaky breath. He always gets very defensive of his achievements. Sis parents paid for nothing; he never asked them to. He hates that people assume differently.

The entrance hall is empty when they invite themselves in, but not for long. Just as they manage to take off their coats, they hear someone coming down the stairs. Jaskier looks up to see Rozalia, his older sister. She’s only one year older than him but doesn’t look a day over thirty. In appearance, she’s all mum: luxuriant dark locks, cat-green eyes, tan skin, and regal features.

“Julek!” she exclaims with a smile and rushes down the stairs into Jaskier’s open arms. They laugh when their bodies collide.

“Hey, horror sister!” Jaskier says, the words their special greeting.

“Hey, wild brother!” Rozalia replies, as tradition commands.

When Jaskier releases her from his embrace, he goes on to introduce Rozalia and Geralt to each other.

“So this is your fiancé,” Rozalia drawls after she and Geralt shake hands, clearly amused, and looks Geralt up and down. “Holy shit. I can see why you kept him a secret.”

Jaskier purses his lips, putting a possessive arm around Geralt’s waist. “Roza, you’re married.”

Rozalia only smirks, then turns on her heel and starts walking down the corridor towards the living room. “Everyone! Julek’s here!” she announces loudly.

“Julek?” Geralt mutters to Jaskier as they start following Rozalia.

“Diminutive of Julian,” Jaskier explains quietly.  

“Sweet.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

Jaskier snorts under his breath but doesn’t reply. The sensation of detachment from the reality is there again and Jaskier doesn’t fight it – the distance between him and everything else wards off the impending panic attack.

Like in a dream, he sees his other sister Amelia, who’s five years younger than him, marching towards them, her mop of short golden curls bouncing up and down as she walks. With her sweet face and wide blue eyes (just like Jaskier’s, which they both got from their dad), she looks like an angel. (Spoiler alert: she’s not. She can be the worst. That’s kind of the youngest’s privilege, though).

When Amelia hugs him and Jaskier introduces her and Geralt to each other, he’s still in a daze. Amelia walks on his side as they all enter the living room, chatting about something to him, but he doesn’t really hear it due to the ringing sound in his ears.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice rumbles.

Jaskier looks into the sun-like, concerned eyes. The warmth calms him down. 

He takes in everyone in the room: his parents, Alfred and Wanda. Amelia, Rozalia and her husband Silvio. Dad’s brother, uncle Konrad, with his wife and son Ferrant. Mum’s sisters, aunts Maria, Hanna and Anna with their husbands. All watching Jaskier and Geralt expectantly.  

Jaskier puts on his best smile and lays a hand on the small of Geralt’s back. “Everyone, this is Geralt Rivia. A Royal Navy commander,” he says and observes, delighting in the array of shocked reactions his family display. “My fiancé,” he adds with pride that he doesn’t even have fake.

A round of introductions follows. Geralt shakes everyone’s hands and says nice things like “honoured to meet you finally”, “Jaskier told me so much about you” and “I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you earlier”. It’s actually pretty convincing, Jaskier has to give him that. Still, it doesn’t stop one of the questions Jaskier dreads the most.

“But why didn’t you tell us anything, darling?” his mum asks as everyone sits down at the table in the dining room.

This is it, Jaskier thinks mournfully, this is when it all goes to hell. At least Geralt sits next to him. It would be a quick departure – Jaskier will just grab his fiancé and run out of the house.

“Exactly,” Amelia seconds, her slender arms crossed before her chest, “it isn’t like you. You would tell the whole world about your engagement in some wild Twitter thread.”

Shit. She got him there. “W-well, I...”

“I asked him not to,” Geralt comes to the rescue. At the confused looks from everyone around, he goes on, “Not until I go on at least one more deployment and Jaskier’s absolutely sure he wants this. He should have it easier in case he changes his mind. Fewer people know about it, less painful it is to announce.”

Jaskier’s dad frowns. “But why do you assume he’d do that?” he inquires, regarding Geralt with suspicion.

“Being in a relationship with a marine officer is hard,” Geralt replies with a heavy sigh and makes a dramatic pause. Jaskier’s family looks at him with almost bated breath but he takes his time, the bastard. He already has them hanging off his every word. “My deployments are rarely shorter than nine months long,” he confesses ruefully.

A stunned silence falls over the room. Jaskier’s family stare at him with disbelief – they all know Jaskier wouldn’t be able to survive a relationship like that, not with how needy he can be.

Of bloody course Geralt would take it too far at the very start.

“But I’m stubborn!” Jaskier exclaims as cheerfully as he can, “Won’t have anyone else but Geralt.”

“Well, that’s all you,” Amelia says, and Jaskier heaves a sigh of relief.

It’s not that Jaskier doesn’t appreciate Amelia’s inquisitive mind. She’s always had the tendency to analyze and look into everything until every fact and detail adds up. Her character makes her the perfect heir to the family business, which she’s agreed to gladly. Ever since she made that decision, Jaskier choosing music is much less of a painful topic for their family. And so, Jaskier certainly values his younger sister’s nature of constant question-asking, but not in moments like this.

Amelia appears to already know what is going on here and Jaskier only prays she’ll be nice enough not to delve into it too much. Maybe some warning glances from Rozalia and begging ones from Jaskier will stop her. Maybe.

Food is served, alcohol starts flowing. Jaskier’s family begin asking Geralt about himself but Jaskier always tries to twist the conversation so that questions about their relationship don’t come. Until they do.

After they sang dad happy birthday, told him their wishes and gave him the gifts, it’s time to eat the birthday cake. Just when Jaskier puts half of his slice on Geralt’s plate (he doesn’t even like cake), Silvio asks, “When did you two meet?”

Geralt and Jaskier share a look. Jaskier opens his mouth to answer but it’s Geralt who says, “It was two years ago. I walked into a bar where Jaskier was playing. He asked me for a review of his songs after his performance.”

Geralt has the audacity to smirk at him so Jaskier, just to be a little shit, adds, “In three words or less!”

Geralt doesn’t appreciate this contribution judging by how he narrows his eyes at him. Jaskier knows they’re treading a dangerous ground – in their stupidity, they didn’t discuss the details of their “first meeting”. Geralt started it, though.

“And what did you say?” Silvio questions.

“That they don’t exist,” Geralt replies without a beat, still staring Jaskier in the eye.

“Whaaat don’t exist?” Jaskier’s father says what Jaskier himself almost blurts out.

“The creatures in his songs,” Geralt explains.

The affronted noise that leaves Jaskier's mouth is beyond his control. “It’s folk! The genre allows for fantastical elements like that!” He huffs. “But you know, Geralt with his commander mind always wants the facts and only facts.”

“So you don’t like Julek’s singing?” Rozalia asks Geralt.

Geralt denies this with a shake of his head. “Jaskier sings beautifully,” he replies, “Like a siren.” He lays his hand on Jaskier’s and looks into Jaskier’s eyes. “My siren,” he adds quietly.

Jaskier has to gape a little. He barely restrains himself from mouthing are fucking serious? because, really, Geralt can’t just say things like that. When he regains his composure, he decides to be mean. “I told you not to call me that, dear heart,” he says, “Not exactly flattering. Sirens lured sailors to their demise.”

Geralt does that lethally adorable head tilt and answers, “Still would go for you.”

He can hear aunt Maria cooing in the background, bless her heart, but Jaskier almost doesn’t register it. His attention is fully on Geralt – there’s something new in his gaze, beneath the teasing glint. Something guarded, tentative and true. Jaskier cocks his head to the side just a little bit. Geralt notices the question in the gesture (they’re really getting good at reading each other, aren’t they?) and answers by raising an eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Jaskier experiences the feeling of a thousand butterflies fluttering their wings in his stomach when he understands – it’s an invitation. He accepts.

Geralt’s lips stretch into a small smile and he squeezes Jaskier’s hand on the table, intertwining their fingers together. Jaskier’s heart almost gives out and he grins, giddy like a teenager who’s just found out their crush is reciprocated. It’s not that far off from the truth anyway.

Uncle Konrad asks Geralt about the Navy. The two of them start discussing working in the army but Jaskier only half-listens, too focused on cherishing the feel of Geralt’s palm engulfing his. Until Geralt takes his hand away, that is.

With a displeased grunt, Geralt takes his phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket. The screen displays an incoming call. “I should take this,” he says apologetically and quickly walks out of the dining room.   

The moment Geralt leaves, the assault is unleashed upon Jaskier. His family bombard him with so many questions and remarks at once that he only hears what Rozalia sitting next to him says. “Didn’t know you were into older men,” she comments, swirling the wine in her glass innocently.

“He’s forty!”

She frowns. “Then what’s the deal with the hair?”

Jaskier freezes in panic. Fucking hell, what is the deal with the hair? He has no idea. Geralt refused to answer his questions. “W-well,” he stutters out, “it’s really... uhh...” He clears his throat. “Not my story to tell. Geralt doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Rozalia hums, an amused twinkle in her eyes. “How mysterious.”

“He sure does seem mysterious,” uncle Konrad chimes in, “And...”

“Quiet?” Ferrant suggests.

“Taciturn?” Silvio supplies.

“Closed off?” aunt Hanna adds.

“Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” Jaskier cuts in, interrupting this merry-go-round offering of adjectives before it spirals into everyone calling Geralt a brute.

“It’s not,” aunt Anna reassures, “It’s just that... I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering how on earth the relationship is even working with him being like this and you being, well...” she trails off and gestures at Jaskier with her fork. “You.”

“Frist off, I’ll take this as a compliment –”

“Of course, dear.”

“ – and secondly, even though we’re different, our differences only keep things... interesting, if you get my meaning.” Jaskier throws in a telling wink, and his uncles chuckle.

“Julian!” both his parents cry out, scandalised.

“Honestly,” Jaskeir goes on, unmoved, “deep down, he and I are quite the same.”

“Indeed?” Amelia asks, “Is he also a bastard at heart?”

“Yesss!” he hisses out, wildly pleased. Sometimes he loves Amelia’s analytic mind.

“He actually seems like a sweetheart,” his mum says, warming Jaskier to his very heart. He loves his mum so much – she always sees the best in people.  

“He’s both, really,” he replies, “He’s certainly a sweetheart to his daughter.” Jaskier delights in shocking his family once again. Then, an idea pops up in his mind, “If you ask him about her, he’ll open right up.”

Before anyone can ask anything else, Geralt returns. After taking one look at him, Jaskier knows something is wrong. There’s tension about him but his face is a blank mask. 

“Something wrong, love?” Jaskier whispers, barely realising that he even said the endearment.

“Work,” Geralt grunts.  

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s father says, “Julian tells us you have a daughter?”

Geralt face lights up immediately. It’s such a charming sight. Jaskier’s chest constricts with how everything in him screams and begs don’t ever go. 

“Yes,” he answers and launches into talking about Cirilla – how old she is, where she goes to school, what she likes doing. How she loved to paint her little hands on the walls when she was six. Soon after that, everyone shares funny stories about children, either their own or themselves as kids.

Jaskier zones out a bit, too busy wondering why Geralt took his hand away when he reach for it.

Later, Jaskier’s parents invite Geralt to stay for the night, which makes the fake-fiance scheme a success; they wouldn’t allow someone who they thought to be a stranger to sleep in their house.

Geralt doesn’t take them up on their offer.

TBC

Part 6

***

A/N: Rozalia is the Horror while Jaskier is the Wild 💕 (Amelia is the nasty angel baby. They adore her for it. Must protecc).

(Also, I love making up OCs, can you tell? XD)