#hopefully you’ll read certain lines in the posted fic and go ‘oh! that’s why she wrote that!!!’

[wttcsms]

!!! did not forget abt any of my events; from the first sleepover event, someone requested invisible string theory with sakusa & we are getting 5 times you almost meet sakusa + the 1 time you two meet (at exactly the right time)

[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4106 Warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: My first Chris Beck fic! Rather than a really long one shot I’m splitting it into two parts. A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

“Hey.”

The soft resonance of Chris’ voice brings tears to your eyes, ones you couldn’t help from slipping out. They fall down the curve of your cheeks past the uneasy smile you wore.

“I kept my promise,” he said. Chris flashed the top row of his bright white teeth, his mouth curving into a boyish smile that reached his eyes, the fine lines crinkling around them. He tilted his head as he looked at you through the screen, a comforting gaze that made you feel as if he was there with you. 

The quality of the video chat is near perfect making you almost forget Chris was millions of miles away. He looked the same, not that you expected him to look different. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other. 

His hair looks darker than usual but you suppose it’s the low lighting of the small room he’s in. He’s bundled up in a thick NASA sweatshirt and you can see several more layers he has on beneath the collar. Chris looks tired but that’s expected, what he’s doing right now is not a walk in the park. You know it’s the reason why it’s taken so long for him to contact you but you wish he did it sooner. 

More tears flood your eyes, burning their way out as you wished he never left at all. You can barely hear Chris over the sound of your own sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.

You lifted your head towards the screen and seeing the concern on his face only made you miss him more, wishing he was there to console you in person.

Your hand swept away tears from your cheek as your voice cracked saying his name. “Chris…” 

The streets are simmering with the heat of a summer that couldn’t wait to officially start. Calendars be damned, it was hot. You indulged in a cool shower when you got home from work but time didn’t allow for a languid evening of staying in your towel as you applied serums and moisturizers, lotions and creams and every other post-shower pampering you normally do. Tonight was dinner with a friend and you needed to get ready.

Chatter filled the air of the patio, a small secluded outdoor space at the back of an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It had an Old World Tuscan feel, from the stucco walls that looked purposely imperfect. Green patina shutters hung beside a wrought iron lantern that glowed in the early evening. Lush greens and bright flowers sat atop the half wall that surrounded the dining area making you forget you were in the city.

Chris looked the same, not that you expected him to be different. It had only been about two years since you’ve seen each other, right before he began training for his mission and now you can’t believe it was about to happen. Never would you have expected that the little boy down the block who became your best friend would actually be going to Mars.

For most of your lives you were in the same school, starting in Mrs. Kramer’s kindergarten class where you stuck together; two kids that were nervous about making friends and finding comfort in each other. As the years went on you weren’t always in the same classes but your friendship continued to grow. Chris was picked on for having a girl as a best friend and the girls always teased that he was your “boyfriend.” It never felt that way with Chris. He was your friend first and you never saw him as anything more. 

By the time you were in middle school Chris was already taking advanced classes in math and science and the only class you had together was art which he was famously terrible at. It was there you asked him a huge favor, whispering to him at the sink as you rinsed off your paint brushes. “Could you kiss me?” Chris turned as red as a boiling lobster, immediately sweating as if he was being roasted alive himself. It was later that day walking home from school that you clarified what you meant.

There was a boy, Justin Kaufman, who was the coolest kid in your grade. You had a crush on him like everyone else and you were shocked when he asked if you would go with him to the dance on Friday. You were worried he might try to kiss you and being inexperienced made you nervous. Justin was really popular and if you were a bad kisser then the whole school would know it. Chris was your friend, someone you trusted, someone you could practice with just to make sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself. 

You had no frame of reference for kissing back then apart from one sided smooches to pictures of movie stars that you had a crush on. But feeling Chris’ lips press back against yours was… nice. The best part about it was that things didn’t feel awkward after. Chris was still your best friend and nothing changed. 

A server hands you a menu and you thank him, scanning through it to see what you might be interested in. Chris looks up at the same time you do, wondering if you wanted an appetizer.  You nodded letting him choose, considering the limited food options he’ll have for over the next year. 

“Can you drink?”

Chris’ nose crinkled as he smiled. “In space? No. Tonight? Yes,” he chuckled softly. 

Two glasses of red wine were set on the table as you indulged in delicious food, catching up as much as you could before Chris’ mission. 

“So you’d love what happened today,” you began, leaning closer, “We filmed a restoration video and yours truly was in it.”

Chris’ eyes lit up as he gasped. “I love those! You have to send it to me. Hopefully I can see it before I go. What was it?”

“A sixteenth century European oil painting.” You went into detail and Chris loved listening to your knowledge of art history. It was no wonder that was your major, taking your studies further to work as a conservator at the Met.

Chris swallowed his food quickly to speak. “You were always good at that– art, attention to detail. Remember when we had to sculpt our own faces?” he chuckled.

There was a short burst of laughter as you remembered that day from so long ago. “Yes! Thankfully the real you doesn’t look anything like that abomination you made.” 

Chris drops his head down to hide a bashful smile that mixed in with laughter. He’s enjoying himself, catching up with you, eating. This was so good. He couldn’t help but scoop up another forkful of pasta, not expecting you to ask him a question. “So, how are you feeling?”

He paused to reflect and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous… excited.” Taking a sip of wine, he sets the glass down carefully on the table. Chris’ face has grown more serious. “My mom’s worried.”

“Of course she is, I don’t blame her. I’m worried. Mars is… well it’s Mars! It’s not around the block.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s definitely not.” 

Chris is heading home to Connecticut tomorrow to spend the next few days with his parents. Chloe, his younger sister is coming in as well so they can all spend some time together before he has to fly down to Florida.

“Then it’s go for launch!” he said with a beaming smile, though Chris had to correct himself for the sake of accuracy. Once he’s down there the crew has to quarantine for at least ten days and go through a bunch of pre-flight checkups and procedures first. “Are you gonna watch?”

The incredulous look you gave him answered his question. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’m going to watch the launch.” 

His eyes twinkled as he smiled back at you. “Oh and don’t worry I put you on my contact list so you can send me emails. Not sure how quickly I'll get them since CAPCOM directs it back to us. And as long as we have the right satellite coverage we can even do video calls.”

“Like Facetime?”

“In theory yeah, more like space Skype,” he laughed. “It’ll be nice to stay in touch.”

Your smile was bright in the dimness of the evening. You can’t imagine not staying in touch with Chris. The longest you had ever gone was during his Air Force training. He checked in with his parents when he first arrived and from then on it was sporadic. You were able to send him letters though and tried to write him every week though your own schooling and an apprenticeship at the Louvre had taken up a lot of time but that was how your relationship was. 

No matter where you were in life, across the world or hovering above it in the International Space Station, you always kept in touch. It’ll be harder now considering he’s going farther than ever before but you’ll make it work. 

Chris would be back by next November and his mom was already planning a big party for his return, one he’s certain you’ll be invited to. Though you haven’t seen his parents in a while you still kept in touch with them from time to time seeing as they were still friends with your own parents.

“It’s crazy to think you’re about to go to Mars.” 

Chris swipes a palm down his mouth, leaning his elbows against the table as he muses, “I know. Feels like I got the call yesterday.”

It was a night similar to this one, where Chris was in New York celebrating with you and other friends on his selection to be part of the Ares III mission. He had been working at NASA for a few years, doing biomedical research in their center in Virginia and now he was about a month out from spending two years training for his long term mission to Mars. 

He stayed at your apartment that night, continuing the celebration in your own private way. You had come a long way from learning to kiss with Chris. It wasn’t a big deal, neither was it the first time you had sex with each other. It was a special dynamic that worked for the two of you, one you don’t think you could have pulled off with anyone else. With Chris you had trust that was built up over the years. He was safe, he was your friend and this was nothing more than just sex. 

It didn’t happen too often, a couple of times here and there. You both dated a few people over the years and even though you were single at the moment you thought about the promise you made to each other as teens. “If we’re not married to other people by the time we’re thirty let’s promise we’ll marry each other.” Such a silly promise but thirty seemed so far away at the time. 

Chris couldn’t make it to celebrate for your thirtieth birthday but you did get a card from him where he joked that the wedding was off. You were in a long term relationship, one that Chris thought would lead to marriage but you ended things a year later. It wasn’t there; that natural spark that made your heart skip a beat every time they smiled brighter than the sun, or when their eyes sparkled like stars in the night every time they looked at you. 

You walked through the streets with Chris after dinner, casually strolling back towards your apartment and stretching out the inevitable goodbye that you didn’t want to say. It was so good to be with him in person again, not realizing how badly you missed it until the hours started ticking closer towards him leaving. By the time you get to your apartment Chris decided to come up stairs, wanting to spend as much of his time with you as he could. 

Chris sits comfortably on your couch, cozied up beside a large pillow. He places his wine glass down on your coffee table, needing to gesticulate with both hands as he starts getting into talking about his research. He’s been published before in numerous academic journals and now he’s going on about how excited he is for his latest topic, musculoskeletal alterations and the effects of deep space travel. 

He’s cute when he really gets into it, crinkles pulling around the corner of his eyes as his whole face lights up. You let out a shaky breath, smiling even wider yourself as you watched the passion he had for science and learning, one that matched the level you had for art and preserving their history. 

Chris apologized for rambling on, taking a sip of wine to clear the dryness from his throat. 

“So, give me the lowdown… can you jerk off in space?” 

He covered his mouth to prevent the wine he was choking on from spitting out. You couldn’t help the sly smile on your face that cracked wider the redder he became. 

“Well?”

Chris cleared his throat again. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looked down into his glass, chuckling a bit as he said, “The official stance from NASA is no comment so I’m going to stick with that.” 

“That’s not an answer!” You could barely hold a faux sneer before you broke into a smile. Teasing Chris was all in good fun, something that went both ways from the time you were young. 

You adjusted the way your legs were folded underneath you, brushing your knee against his leg. Chris lifted his arm up, a silent invitation for you to get closer and so you did, resting your head against him as his arm came around you.

Things had quieted down and you listened to the steady beat of his heart. This would be the last time you would see Chris for a long time. Your arm reached around to hold him for as long as you could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered against him. 

Chris’ chest sunk as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.” His arm squeezed a little tighter around you as he pressed his lips gently against your forehead. “Just look to the stars and I’ll be there.” 

His words brought a comforting smile to your face, one you shared with him as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you want to stay?”

The corner of his mouth tugs a little as Chris thinks about it. There’s nothing he really misses at his hotel more than he does you. The only reason he came to New York was to see you first before going home. 

“Yeah, I’d love to stay.”

You shifted yourself on top to straddle Chris, carding your fingers through his hair and taking in the gaze of his eyes that became pools of deep blue. You closed the distance between your lips, feeling his hands come around your back. Soft moans bubbled in your throat and soon you found yourself being carried to the bedroom. 

Clothes were discarded, lips were on skin that burned hotter than the stars. You writhe against him, thighs quivering around his head, reaching out to grip him by the hair, holding Chris in place as he coaxed out your release. His lips taste like you and he licks them again, savoring your sweetness as he crawls up your body. 

He tears open the condom, gathering your wetness on him as he slowly pushed in. A sinful moan falls from your lips as you feel the stretch of him inside you, inch by inch until he was fully seated. An experimental roll of his hips sets the pace for pleasure. 

Your hands graze up the curve of his arms, reaching his back and digging in half moon shapes into his skin with your nails as he thrusts into you.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, moaning as his hips snapped forward. His name fell from your lips, a sweet sound that he couldn’t deny he loved hearing. 

He changed his angle, hitting you with deeper, longer strokes. His mouth found your nipple, sucking at your peak as his hips gained speed; groaning and squeezing his eyes tightly as he fucked you, ready to explode.

“Shit!” Chris hissed, backing off quickly. You’re confused and concerned, sitting up and turning the light on beside your bed to see what was wrong. “The condom broke,” he said, still catching his breath.

Chris got up to discard it in the bathroom as you sat on the bed, crossing an arm over your chest, waiting nervously. When Chris walked back in the room he apologized for that, the stiffness of his length giving you relief that he hadn’t finished so you continued. Using your hands on him as he let out soft moans, distractedly opening another condom that you rolled down on him. You straddled him, leaning forward to capture his lips for a sweet kiss first before you lined yourself up and sank down on him. 

Soon enough you were riding waves of bliss together, gripping Chris as you clenched around him, burning white hot behind your eyes. He’s right behind you, on the edge of pleasure, exploding inside you like a supernova.

Dropping your head onto his chest, it felt like your body was made of overcooked noodles that splayed loosely against him as you were desperate to catch your breath, coming down from the heights you soared to. Chris’ arms hold you close against him, his lips languidly peppering kisses to your sheen covered skin. 

When his heartbeat returned to a steady pace Chris went to the bathroom to once again discard the condom and you followed behind him to use it. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, bringing back an ice cold glass of water for you. 

Back in bed you cuddled together, with goosebumps breaking out on your skin as Chris’ fingertips graze gently up and down your arm. Your eyes feel heavy but you don’t want to give in because when you wake up you know you’ll have to say goodbye and that’s not something you want to do. 

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” you murmured against him, as worry took root within your stomach. His quick and emphatic reply should have been enough but you couldn’t help yourself from needing to make sure you would still hear from him during the mission. “And call me? With the space Skype?”

“I promise,” he said, as a smile spread across his face. Chris’ hand stopped moving, settling on your arm and holding you close. 

“Promise me one more thing?” He hummed in response and you continued, “Stay safe up there.”

Chris tilted his head down and feeling him shift you looked up as he said, “I promise.”

In the moonlight his eyes sparkled like clear tropical waters. Slowly, a soft smile spread across your face as you stared at him. “I love you, Chris.” There was no romanticism behind it even after being together, just pure love for your friend. 

Chris exhaled, planting a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

Despite wanting to spend your remaining hours together awake you reluctantly fell asleep in his arms, tearfully parting in the morning. Two weeks later you watched as the space shuttle launched, with proud tears filling your eyes as Chris’ picture flashed on your screen along with the rest of the crew. Seeing that made you feel hopeful and overjoyed at the prospect of hearing from him soon.

“Chris… I’m pregnant.” It was a relief to finally tell him but you didn’t feel any better, uncertainty weighed heavy on your shoulders, crushing the space for your lungs to expand. Chris knows but now what?

He’s silent, his lips parted slightly and you don’t know if there’s a delay in the feed. Maybe you should have emailed it to him. You were going to at first and instead chose to word the importance of needing to speak to him in such a clandestine way that you were contacted by someone from NASA. Upon speaking to them they allowed your email to be dispatched and then you waited. 

Chris’ eyebrows knit together, his shoulders slumping down as he stared at your face through the screen. He didn’t have any doubts, you were always truthful with each other, but he still wondered how.

“We put on a new one, I thought…” 

“I thought we were good too,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. 

You weren’t just pregnant, you were pregnant with his child and based off of some quick calculations in his head you were nearing the end of your first trimester. “H-how are you? I mean, how are you feeling?”

“Physically or…” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your throat. 

This was hard on you, the physical symptoms weren’t fun but you could manage. What was more difficult was not telling anyone. It was early enough in your pregnancy that you could hide it from your family. They still lived in Hartford and hadn’t been down to visit yet but you couldn’t avoid them forever. Work was a different story. You had to let your boss know you would have to modify your duties as working around solvents and other chemicals would not be safe.

There was never a doubt in your mind about keeping the baby. When you were younger you imagined having children by now but it didn’t work out that way. It was something you were okay with, finding life fulfilling in different ways. Work was incredible, you were able to travel and though your relationships hadn’t worked out in the past you didn’t hold on to any resentments. Life was always complete and now things were going to be different. 

You wanted to speak to Chris first before telling your family because you needed to know your expectations. Chris had a life of his own and you didn’t want your choice of having a baby to make him feel obligated in any way. You were an adult; a smart, independent woman and could do this on your own.

“I know this isn’t something we planned but…” Chris exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting upward, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with than you... I promise.” 

Chris’ eyes glisten with tears as his smile grows and you find yourself brushing away your own from the corner of your eyes. It was comforting to know Chris will be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully it would have been weird if he wasn’t in some capacity considering how close you were. For now you have a lot of time on how you’re going to figure things out for the future.

After the call Chris reflected in silence, staring out of the giant triangular windows of one of the Hermes’ common areas into the vastness of space. He was lost in thought, startled by his name being called by a crewmate. He turned to see Mark whose bright smile fell with concern upon seeing Chris’ face, asking if he was alright.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Chris responded, his tone mournful in the realization he’ll be missing the birth. He accepted the congratulatory hug Mark gave him, sighing heavily as they separated. “I always thought I’d be there for that.” 

You were due in March and Chris hated the fact that he won't be there for the first nine months of his child’s life, moments and milestones he’ll never get back. He doesn’t like leaving this all on you. He knows you can do it but you shouldn’t have to. 

“I can’t pretend this isn’t hard but don’t think of it in terms of what you’re missing, look at what you’re gaining, what you have to look forward to when you come home.” Chris nodded, his smile trying to come back. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend,” Mark teased. 

“I don’t. Y/N, she’s…” Chris’ face lights up as he thinks about you, which does not go unnoticed by Mark. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s always meant so much to me and now…” 

Mark gave Chris an honest smile as he spoke plainly, “And now you’re having a baby.” 

With a proud smile that stretched from ear to ear he affirmed, “Yeah… we are.” 

PART 2

[ladymelissaduthe]

Challenge #1

Alternately Titled: To be a Princess

I actually don’t have wifi right now, but hopefully data can come through for now. I’l probably reupload this with the gdoc format soon hehe 

I actually wanted to post Missy’s RP with Jackson which happens the night before all of this, but I’m not too happy with it right now so SJKNJKDNDK yeah here is the reaction fic for now + the first meeting RP,,, cause it’s technically late... I’M SORRY BSDJKDNKJD Mentions of @safiya-schreave and @felicity-graham HAHAHAHA and features the first meeting with @arin-schreave hehe, thank you guys for some spicy material to work with <3 (2341 words,,, I think)

When I was a little girl, I learned that to be a princess was to have a thousand pairs of shoes. Shoulders back and tummy in, lift the chin and slowly turn your head from side to side.

I would personally like to thank Barbie for being the role model I didn’t think I’d need on a day like today.

Sure, Barbie had Julian, (The superior Ken from a Barbie movie if you asked me), but today, we had a real life princess give us a crash course on… royal life amongst us. It was like Barbie: Princess and the Popstar more than the Princess and the Pauper really. She walked in, and well, it felt like the chatter in the room quieted down once she came in. Princess Safiya.

She seemed nice when she came in, clipboard an all—ah well doesn’t that sight remind me of days I’d be instructing relatives around a rehearsal dinner. She begins to read from a script attached to the clipboard.

“I hope you all had a restful first night in the palace because now our work begins. Today I will begin to instruct you on conduct and protocol, a process that will continue for the duration of your stay. Please know that I will be reporting any missteps on your part to the royal family.” An amused expression ghosts her features before she continues. “I know it sounds harsh, but this isn’t a game to be taken lightly. Someone in this room will be the next princess of Illéa. It is no small task. You must endeavor to elevate yourselves, no matter your previous station. You will become ladies from the ground up. And this very morning, you will receive your first lesson.”

Hm… fair. I nod from my spot in the room, ready as ever to learn. I mean, how hard could it be? The sound of the door opening catches my attention, was another girl late?

Oh… OH.

Well I’ll be damned, that was Felicity Graham.

I thought she was taller.

I focus my attention back to what the princess was saying, only seeing Felicity move through the corner of my eyes until she came right back into my line of sight when she walks over to where Safiya stood, the two seemingly having a hushed conversation the no one probably an ear away could hear. I lift a shoulder up, busying myself and turning my attention to around the room. Guess they needed their privacy.

The set up was simple around here, simple at a glance but most probably high quality and very expensive. The room was mostly decorated like it was straight out of a home décor issue on an old money family. The elongated room was complemented with high-rise curtains tied with golden chords, tables were laid with cloths that were definitely a multi-count. There were centerpiece bouquets at the center of every table: dahlias and veronicas, if I wasn’t mistaken, the accent cloths were pinned to the sides with a lighter tulle? No, more of a sheath with gold weaved into it.

A few months, I decorated a wedding in a location similar to this, a sort of hall in an old building back in Orleans for the governor’s daughter. Except, maybe this has twice the budget…. Or maybe five times the budget. I wonder what was happening with the princess right now?

Oh they’re still talking. Why does the princess give Felicity a look? You know, one of those scary looking faces you shoot at a girl when you both see the same dress on sale and it’s the last one in-stock.

I try to wrack my brain up for anything I knew about them, figuring out why Felicity would be here. Those two were best friends, I know, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in the same room with the girl(s) my ex was replacing me with. Well, ya know, that’s just me. I just needed a refresher on which glass was for water and which one for juice.

“My sister sent someone to replace her. Lucky for us.”

The princess doesn’t seem too happy. Sometimes I wonder what it’s like for your best friend to be your brother’s ex-fiancée. That whole… situation was a big question for the entire country. My circles of other wedding planners whispered reasons why it was called off. Interesting allegations really. Oh their poor wedding planners, they better had a cancellation clause.

“Table manners are very important, and before you can eat in front of the royal family, you must be aware of certain etiquette. The faster we get through this little lesson, the sooner you get to have your breakfasts, so faces forward, please.”

The princess continues onto basic table manners, easy things that my Grammy used to grill me for back when I was little girl. Then again, there was a time when she used to be a Debutante ‘round Midston and her habits never left her.

“If you follow this one, I’ll be disappointed.” Oh so I guess we were allowed to speak with our inside voices. That’s… convenient. I nod along, hearing a snort from Felicity. The princess makes a face before continuing.

“She wanted me to make a final addition about how to address me and the rest of my family.” I should be paying attention to this one. The whole addressing royalty was definitely a new thing to me. The princess proceeds to explain who we call what, all the formalities and whatnot before we’re asked to stand and start with a crash course on curtsies.

“Now, I suppose you’ll be practicing your curtsies. I’ll be walking around if you have any questions. Or to critique.”

A good piece advice my mama gave me rings in my head, Imagine that a string is attached to the top of your head and pulling ya up. Maybe it’ll help me right now. It was something she always told brides during wedding rehearsals so they looked like they just glided down the aisle. I straighten up, imagining a string on the top of my head.

“and don’t forget I’m here to help you.” I hear Felicity say.

Wow, was she really?  

let’s just insert a timeskip here

It took a bit of a while before it was my turn to meet the prince. Not too long, but I suppose the buffet breakfast was a nice consolation. It was lovely that there were some vegan options. I was careful not to eat anything that could have stained the lovely lilac dress that took me literally forever to pick last night.

I was led outside of the room right after I finished some sliced fruits, careful that my lipstick wasn’t ruined from the meal. Someone opened the door for me as I was led into the room.

Alrighty, here we go, Missy. It’s just like meeting a new client. Winning smile, spring in your step, genuine interest. You practiced a couple of questions with yourself last night. It’s just a boy. It’s just a boy. You could do this. Just, try to impress him. No pressure.

There was a sofa, and beside it stood the prince. Oh, he seemed shorter in pictures. I walk towards him, reminding myself to keep my smile on and recall that I needed to dip down in a quick curtsey.

“Hello Lady Melissa. Please have a seat.” The prince greets before motioning to the sofa.

“Good morning, Prince Arin.” I glance over to the sofa before taking a seat, keeping my smile. “Thank you.”

He sits beside me. Up close, the first thing I notice was that his hair looked nice. Was that shallow? I mean… hair care and personal grooming was a good sign, right?

“How is your morning going?”

Compared to last night, I was in a much better mood, but of course I still felt tense. The cameras around wasn’t helping.

“Nothing short of spectacular.” I reply, recalling the answer I practiced in my head. Sometimes, it helps to practice answers. Oh wow, I really was nervous about this, wasn’t I? Shoot. “Woke up, never though I’d see such a great view of the ocean from my room, but there it was,” without knowing it my hands go up, “the sky was orange and glowing.”

I look to him, the memory of the sunrise bringing a genuine smile to my face. “How about you? How has your morning been going?”

“My morning has been fine, thank you.” He smiles at me. “Which province are you from?”

“Proud to be representing Midston. I bet you kind of had a hunch from the accent, but Orleans to be more specific, home to Mardi Gras and the best looking French Quarter in Illéa.”

The prince shakes his head, “Sorry, I honestly hadn’t noticed. But how do you like Angeles so far? It must be different from Midston.” His eyes trail elsewhere. Maybe towards the cameras?

“Well one thing I noticed was that… the buildings here are pretty tall.” I lift a shoulder up. “Don’t see that often where I’m from.” I chuckle before I look to where he looked, and realize that it indeed was a camera he glanced at a couple of seconds ago.

Don’t fix your hair, don’t fix your hair. My hand reaches up to tuck literally nothing back into place. Shoot. Don’t fix yourself around cameras, much less the prince, MISSY.

“It’s just as hot here though,” I add while fanning myself with my hand, “but I don’t know if that’s the weather or I’m just really nervous.”

“Nervous about which part?” the prince seems to watch me, still trying to maintain his smile.

I try to stop fidgeting, letting out a deep breath. “Not might be the same for you but I think meeting a prince for the first time would make you feel the slightest bit of jitters.” An unintentional laugh escapes me, and I try to smile. “Sorry, is it a little too much?”

The prince seems to shake his head, “No, uh… I’m mostly used to it.” He seems to pause for a moment before speaking up. “What do you do in Orleans?”

Without thinking, “Weddings.” I instantly say, “I mean, I plan weddings and debuts.” I start to ramble, “Catering, decorations, invitation, whatever a client wants for their special day, I can make it happen.”

He blows out a breath and nods, “Ah, I see. And how is…” he seems to hesitate at the next word, “wedding planning?”

Someone please, slap me.

Oh dear, it must still be a sensitive topic for him.

I try to give him a comforting smile, “It’s quite lovely, I don’t think I’ve experienced something as magical as someone’s wedding day. I’m just happy to help make the magic happen.” I’m reminded of my conversation with Jackson in the kitchen last night. The happiest business… he called it.

I blink, ah yes… way to rub some salt into a wound. QUICK. Find a way to salvage this. “Debuts are just as fun too. Just as much cake and magic.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He seems to shift slightly, “So you enjoy it?”

“Very much.” I reply. He still seems weirded out by it. QUICK. Change the topic. “Are you… a party person, your highness? Or a little more of a party of one kind of person?”

Prince Arin tilts his head, “I’ve enjoyed parties and sometimes I like to be alone. But honestly I don’t mind the chaos.” He then frowns. Why would he be frowning? Is he… one of those extra-introvert types? What did they call those people again? Eh, the only thing I really knew about those kinds of people was that they had a social battery or something like that.

“I think there’s always something to celebrate,” I bobble my head, “but we’ve all got a battery that can only take up so much uh… chaos. Nothing too different.”

He seems to blink in surprise, “That’s a different way of looking at things. It seems like you have a pretty high tolerance.”

Well, that’s one way to put it. I’ve always just been a really social type.

“I believe it’s all about perspective.” I smile, recalling another piece of advice my Grammy always told me. “Just gotta choose how you wanna perceive things instead of accepting them the way you first saw it. I mean, that’s what my Grammy’s always reminded me.”

“So move on with your life?” The prince looks at me curiously.

If only moving on was easy as saying that you were moving on.

“You make moving on sound bad.” I chuckle, recalling how… bad it really could be. ���See it more of moving forward. Someone used to tell me , ‘Forward to a tomorrow, completely different from yesterday’. ” I glance to the prince. “I’m still figuring out that last piece of advice out though.”

I don’t know why I still quoted that. Quoted him of all people, but good advice… was good advice.

“And who was that?” Prince Arin asks, I catch him tilting his head to the side, “That sounds like something my mother would say.”

The answer seems to be stuck in my throat, I pause before saying, “That’s a story for another day, your highness.” I try to change the topic. “Your mother sounds very wise though. Are you two very close?”

“We are,” he nods before glancing at his watch. “But I can tell you more about that another day.” Touché, a chuckle escapes me.

Prince Arin stands, “It’s been a pleasure speaking with you this morning, Lady Melissa. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.”

“Missy, you can call me Missy.” I follow and stand up, dipping into another curtsy. “Have a nice day ahead of you, your Highness.” I give him one last smile, seeing him nod and take it as my cue to turn and leave.

Someone please tell me that was a good first impression.

[galathynius]

Faking It - Chapter 1

Summary: Aelin has been invited to a wedding, but she can’t stand her extended family, and she certainly can’t go alone. The only problem? She doesn’t have a date. At this point, she’ll take anyone. The slightly irritating and definitely attractive barista at the local coffee shop has been flirting with Aelin for a few months, but it’s not until she’s desperate that she gives him a chance. It’s supposed to be a one-night-only, just-as-acquaintances kind of thing, but it doesn’t go quite as planned…

Author’s Note: I’ve been entertaining the idea of doing a multi-chapter fic for a while now, and @aelin-and-feyre requested a perfect prompt for one. I’m really excited to share this with you all! Hopefully this can help me keep to a normal writing schedule. | Reblogs are greatly appreciated :) Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters. A new chapter will be posted every Sunday at around 4:30 pm EST.

Chapter List | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Hey there, cousin,” Aedion drawled. “I assume you heard the news.”Aelin’s phone rang. It was Aedion, the only one of her cousins she did like. Somehow their mothers had managed to be the only two good people in their enormous family. Aelin was glad that her father didn’t have a lot of extended family; she didn’t think she could handle much more drama.

“About Dana’s wedding? Yeah,” Aelin said sourly. “I’m so excited.” It had been two days since Aelin had received the invitation. She’d stuffed the nauseatingly elegant card in a drawer, hoping to forget about it, but she’d been in a foul mood ever since she opened it.

“I’m pretty sure it’s improper etiquette to send out invitations a month before your wedding.”

“Yeah, well, improper etiquette is the Ashryver way,” Aelin grumbled.

“Knowing Dana, it’s probably a shotgun wedding. I didn’t even know she was engaged.”

Aelin snorted. “Me neither, but I don’t pay too much attention to what goes on with these people. And it better not be. There’s going to be enough drama as it is. A pregnancy scandal would only make it worse.”

“Very true. Our family is like a soap opera. You and I can sit on the sidelines and watch it all go down.”

“Oh great, you mean I get to spend all night dealing with you? No thanks.”

“Come on now, I’m by far the best out of all of them and you know it. Who are you gonna hang out with instead? You got a date or something?”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet? You plan on finding one?” Aedion laughed. “I can’t wait to see how that goes.”

“I could get a date if I wanted to,” Aelin said indignantly.

“You’re right. I know a guy who’s absolutely desperate for attention. I could set you up with him.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at that. “And I think I know a fist or two that wants to become acquainted with your face.”

“Alright, alright. But if you’re going to bring a date, then I’m going to need to find one.”

“What about that guy you were seeing?”

“That didn’t work out. I guess it’s not the worst thing. Like you said, there will be enough drama already. I don’t need any commentary on my sexual preferences.”

“I’m sure you’ll get some anyway.” Aelin sighed. “Can’t we just skip it? I don’t want to go. I don’t even care about any of these people anyway. They’re all horrible.”

“Believe me, I know. But my mother has already threatened me about trying to get out of it. She said that if she and my dad have to suffer through it, then so do I. I’m sure your parents will agree. It’s just one night. We can get through it, right?”

“As long as there’s alcohol. I’m gonna need a drink or ten to ease the headache I’ll undoubtedly get after five minutes.”

“Didn’t you read the invitation? There’s an open bar and a full meal. Can’t complain about free food and booze.”

“In this situation you can. The cake better be chocolate, otherwise this is all for nothing.”

Aedion laughed. “You’d be better off buying yourself your own chocolate cake and staying home. Anyway, I have to go. Good luck on your date hunting. You’re going to need it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Aelin said flatly. Aedion laughed again and hung up.

Aelin sighed again. Aedion was right. She was going to need luck to help her find a date. She was sure Aedion wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone to bring, and she definitely was not in the mood to third-wheel with them.

The next morning, Aelin made her usual run to the nearest coffee shop before heading to work. She was interning at the local newspaper for the summer in hopes that it would give her a leg up in starting her journalism career after college.

The cafe was fairly busy, as usual. Aelin, still in a bitter mood, wasn’t particularly thrilled about having to stand in line with a bunch of chatty people, but she definitely couldn’t skip the coffee. She didn’t know how everyone here could be so perky before their morning caffeine. Her eyes slid to the counter and she huffed a breath. The silver-haired and annoyingly attractive barista was taking orders again. Ninety percent of the time Aelin came in, he was working, and every time, he not-so-subtly flirted with her. Aelin was almost certain he wasn’t serious; he seemed to flirt with every pretty girl that came in. They all flashed him pretty, blushing smiles and flirted back. Aelin thought it was ridiculous.

She finally got to the counter, and he gave her his most charming grin, as always. Aelin’s stormy expression didn’t change.

“Rough morning?” he asked. Aelin just glared at him. He brushed it off. “Must be. The usual?”

After a month of Aelin coming in every morning and sometimes even in the afternoons, Rowan had learned her name and her order. In fact, he knew all of the regulars because he was so friendly to them. It was annoying.

Aelin didn’t really know why something about him rubbed her the wrong way; it just always had. She remembered the first time he’d been here. He’d greeted her cheerfully, but Aelin had been in a bad mood and didn’t reciprocate. Upon seeing that his nametag read “Rowan,” her first thought had been that it was a pretentious name if she’d ever heard one. After that, he was there all the time, and she noticed how he acted like he owned the place, talking to everyone like they were his best friends. She’d seen a bunch of girls practically falling over themselves as he took their order, and how his warm smile made them giggle.

Aelin had taken notice of him more than she cared to admit. To be fair, he was handsome. It was hard not to notice his striking green eyes and the tattoos swirling over the left side of his face. He seemed to be Mr. Perfect. That bothered her.

“Yeah, the usual,” Aelin said. Rowan grabbed a cup and started marking her order on it.

“So, are you having a rough time with things or are you just not a morning person?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

He shrugged. “You just always seem to be in a bad mood. Is that like a constant state, or is it just pre-coffee you?”

Aelin scowled as she handed him her credit card. “I don’t see why it matters.”

“If you’re struggling with something, maybe I can help.” He swiped her card and passed it back to her.

Aelin snatched it from him and turned toward the pickup counter. “Trust me, you can’t.”

[anghraine]

Having been wowed by your fanfic ("wandering inside this night" holds a special place in my RO heart), I'm curious: what is your writing/editing process like?

Oh, thank you!

My writing process really varies depending on what I’m doing, but I can explain it in terms of wandering inside this night.

It’s long and rambly, so you can scroll down for a very concise tl;dr version of The Process.

1. Eureka!

I pretty much always start out with 1) a vague sense of something I want to write about, and I sort of mentally fish around until I land on an idea, or 2) an idea pops into my head, or 3) some combination of both.

The last two are the most common for me—I have more ideas than I could ever write. With wandering, it was definitely that way. 

I was hollering into my tags about the Cassian-Leia parallels pretty early, which … Jyn-Han is obvious, but I felt like the Cassian-Leia ones went relatively unnoticed but were probably more profound. And as spies in the ragtag ANH-era Rebellion, it’s more than possible that they’d know each other; I’d made babbling posts, but I really wanted to do something with it. So I sketched out a backstory in until the last chance is spent, but I still wanted more, and also to get into Han-Jyn at the same time, and also just—have something fun! And suddenly (I was actually at a Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert, lol) the idea popped into my head of jumping to the Han/Leia meltdown of 1980 with established relationship Jyn/Cassian.

2. Percolation

This is particularly important for longer fic (or any long-form writing, really), but it helps with shorter things, too. It’s where you’re not actively working to figure out details or more ideas, much less writing, just passively letting your mind wander. It’s best if you’re actually doing something else—something that doesn’t take much attention, but enough that you can’t completely focus on your thoughts, like showering or washing dishes or something.

When something does come to mind, I scribble it down (or stick it in a doc in some form that will hopefully make sense to me later). Sometimes it’ll be scraps of dialogue, or a phrase I want to make sure gets in somewhere, or a plot-point, just anything that pops up. Ideally, though, I don’t write anything beyond that—just note down anything I might forget and let my ideas develop freely. 

Normally, I’d only do so much of that with something like wandering (fairly short, fairly light). But I ended up snowed in with my extended family, where I was both bored and unable to sit down and write. So I’m sitting there entertaining myself by imagining Jyn and Han, drinking buddies, and how that’d work with the Cassian-Leia brotp of ruthless idealism (Han would be jealous!), and just having that percolating in my head while I read fic and let stray thoughts pass through my mind. (‘Okay but Cassian would fucking hate Han’ being uppermost among them, lol)

3. Brainstorming/Outline

At this point, I try to pin down the free-floating ideas and/or organize what scraps I have into something coherent. With something longer, like ad astra, I generally do a pretty traditional outline—decide what the story is specifically going to cover, and where the things I’ve actually written fit with that, and what’s going to go in the spaces between.

It’s not classroom-style brainstorming; I usually brainstorm ideas by trying to put together an outline. I’ll be “okay, I want to start with something like that shot of Jyn on the platform with an Imperial ship at the end, but it’s Bodhi” and “they get sucked into the Death Star and Jyn exploits Cassian’s injuries to get in” and then I sit down and figure out how I’m going to get from one to the other. “Okay, so—there’s no way they can actually get Kaytoo, but maybe something—yeah, she just up and grabs his dismembered head l o l, okay, and there’s the jump into the ship which rattles Cassian further, and she’d try to treat him with whatever supplies are available, and we’d have Bodhi trying to get out without being shot down, and maybe I can work in the your father would have been proud of you line, and Jyn goes to check on Bodhi and they see the Death Star and…”

Also, it helps a ton to actually talk ideas over with someone else. With me, it’s generally @steinbecks​—not some strict ‘this, then this, then this, tell me what you think’, but ‘I had this idea’ and ‘OK BUT IMAGINE IF’ and ‘haha yeah exactly’ and ‘shit you’re right they do change outfits’ etc. 

4) Drafting (The Big One)

Ideally, I only get to this after nailing down an outline or at least getting a lot figured out in chats/notes to myself. That’s what I did for pretty much all my most successful longfics—First Impressions (f!Darcy/m!Elizabeth), Season of Courtship (Darcy and Elizabeth’s engagement), we get dark, only to shine (AU of The Borgias that moves the canon pairing getting together from S3 to S1), and now ad astra. It helps a TON if you have trouble with discipline and direction, as I do, because you can always go back to it and figure out where you need to be headed when you’re muddled/uninspired, even if some details change along the way. (They always do, for me.)

I did some of that with wandering, but … I was snowed-in, lol, and finally everyone had gone to sleep and my head was full of ideas. So I laid down with my laptop and just dove right in with the only clear line I had in mind: 

Han Solo once had apleasant conversation with Cassian Andor.

Just once.

That was where I planned it to begin! The actual beginning came later, because I very quickly ran into a problem—the sentence worked to jump into exposition, not an actual scene. And with the exposition, I needed to introduce 1) Cassian’s hatred of Han, 2) Han’s lesser but firm dislike, 3) Cassian and Leia’s history together as spies, 4) Han’s brief and half-hearted attempt to suck up, 5) Jyn and Cassian being married, 6) Han’s friendship with Jyn, 7) Han’s jealousy as contrasted to Cassian and Jyn’s mutual trust, etc. Yikes.

So I kept getting mired down in explanations and flashbacks (I actually wrote the scene where Jyn drunkenly complains about finding something for Cassian’s birthday, lol) that slowed it down. And I wasn’t really happy with anything—I constantly niggled at sentences and moved things around and rephrased and it just didn’t work right. I actually have the document I worked in (I didn’t have Internet at the time), so you can see this sort of intermediate stage:

I niggled with it for the rest of the vacation, then it hit me that the issue was that starting a fic with exposition was the real problem. Starting with ESB-era Han just being ESB-era Han could let me work the exposition section in, and without the pressure of it being the opening section I could keep it to a tangential aside and move the jealousy around and so forth. And from there I could just leap to the canon scene with bonus Cassian-Leia shared indignation, and impulsively I added Kaytoo at the end. 

Moral of the story: if you keep trying to make something work and it just won’t, there’s probably something deeper going on. Take a step back and figure out why it’s not working, and often you’ll be able to correct course. Once I tacked in that little ‘Han sulks’ section at the beginning, it all fell together easily. 

5) Revising!

You can probably guess from #4 that I do a lot of this as I write rather than after I write. That’s true, to an extent.

It can be a very … I wouldn’t say discouraging, but sluggish way to write, because you end up struggling over phrases you might not even keep in the end. I genuinely think it’s best to at least try to restrain the impulse to polish everything, but at the same time, there are some of us who genuinely can’t keep going if the current section isn’t working (again, see #4!). So I allow myself a certain amount of freedom in polishing-as-I-go, while restraining the impulse to do anything more substantial. The single best way of doing this is sprinting—writing in short, timed bursts with little to no editing, ideally with a partner that you check in with. (Again, I generally do this with @steinbecks​.)

However, even if you edit as you go and turn out pretty clean drafts, you should still revise at the end. What I generally do is, first of all, just quickly re-read. The writing process is a lot slower than the reading one, and it’s easy to get so focused on particular passages or sections that you lose sight of how it’s working as a whole. So that quick read-through is a way to back up and see how it’s holding together. It’s best if you give yourself a break before you do this—a day or two at least, to get your mind out of the writing mode and look at it with relatively fresh eyes. 

(I will say that I almost never wait. But I do pretty much always end up editing chapters yet again in the first couple of days after I’ve posted them. Sometimes it’s contuinity, sometimes a passage that isn’t working quite the way I thought, whatever. There’s always something. It’s why the chapters I post at Dreamwidth are generally cleaner than the ones at Tumblr, which are cleaner than the first versions posted at AO3.)

However you do that read-through, the most important for me is the next one. At this point, I read the whole fic/chapter/essay/whatever from start to finish—out loud. In fact, if it’s possible, I’ll do a full-on dramatic reading. By reading aloud, you can catch things like typos that your mind silently corrects for your eyes, but also it’s easier to notice sentence-level problems like repeated words/phrases and unvaried sentence structure. If something makes me cringe when I read it aloud, I cut it or rewrite. If saying it aloud makes it sound wrong for the character, it probably is wrong for the character. Sometimes I do the dramatic reading revision two or three times.

And then I either post or print!

The short version:

1) I get an idea, 2) I let the ideas develop without thinking too hard about them, 3) I nail down and think up specific ideas, mostly through chat and/or outlines, 4) I plow through a draft, rearranging/adding material if things just aren’t working, and 5) I revise, once with a quick re-read of the whole thing, and then again by slowly reading it aloud to myself to catch problems with (primarily) mechanics, voice, and word choice.