#I’m case you can’t see the same details he is wearing red nail polish and evil eye necklaces
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@williamfnafton Sir Ank and the boss.
#my art#springtrap#fnaf#Fnaf art#fnaf fanart#fnaf fandom#fnaf fazbear frights#almost completely accurate size difference#sorry it took so long for me to finish this—i started it about two weeks and didn’t have the time to finish it#I’m case you can’t see the same details he is wearing red nail polish and evil eye necklaces#Sir Ankle Breaker#Sir Ank#ankle breaker 101
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pink
relationship: Sub!Aaron Hotchner x 1stPOV!Reader
Rating/warnings: NSFW, nudity, masturbation
A/N: not beta’d/edited, so errors are probable : )
Summary: I thought Aar would be home for three days. I thought I’d have plenty on time to pamper him before he was called into a case. I should have known better. I’m sure Aaron will laugh about this….eventually.
So it was Friday and Aaron had just stumbled through the door after a long case that had ended so badly Aaron didn’t want to even talk about it. Jack was asleep, but that wouldn’t stop Aar from giving his boy a kiss on the forehead and sitting with him for a bit. In the meantime, I was getting a bath ready, knowing Aaron needed some extra pampering after this last case. Our relationship was a constant back and forth. Sometimes Aar was my sweet (or not so sweet) daddy, taking care of me in all the right ways. Other times he was my sweet boy, letting me take care of him. It was unusual but it always balanced out. I could tell tonight was one of the night Aaron needed to give up control and let someone take care of him. Just as the bath was filled and I’d put in some lavender and rosemary, Hotch appeared, leaning against the doorway. I saw him visibly relax inhaling the calming steam. I took a moment to survey him. His shirt was wrinkled, and he’d either slept in it or hadn’t slept at all. His eyes had dark circles under them, leading me to believe it was the latter. His hair was more disheveled than usual, falling into his eyes. I stood from the edge of the tub and went to pull him into a gentle hug. He slumped into me and I braced myself so he could put more of his weight on me. We stood there fro a bit, just enjoying this first moment of connection together. It was what made our time apart bearable. “c’mon pretty boy, let’s get these clothes off you” I murmur into his hair, pulling a little at the hair at the nape of his neck. He grumbled a bit about how he was too tired to move. “I know honey, but you can’t get in the bath with your work clothes on. c’mon” I said, pulling him over to sit on the edge of the bed. The poor baby was so tired he almost fell asleep in the short time it took me to undress him.
When I was finally done and he was naked I handed him his clothes asking him to go put them in the laundry basket. Sleepily he did, meanwhile I striped down too, coming up behind him to drop my clothes in the basket with his. I took the opportunity to loop my arms around his waist and kiss along his shoulders and the top of his spine, loving the soft noises he made as he melted back into me. “c’mon sweet boy, let’s get you in the bath, I purred, slipping his soft velvet collar around his neck, locking it with its little gold-heart lock, and using it to pull him to the bathroom. I sat down in the tub first and pulled him in to sit with his back against my chest. Aar’s eyes slipped shut as I started running the loofah across his skin and working soap into his muscles. His breathing was staring to slow down and he seemed to be drifting in and out of a doze. While I washed him, I nuzzled into his hair and told him everything about what Jack and I had been up to since the last time we were here. Aaron loved hearing about all the boring details; how the grocery store was out of Jack and my favorite flavor of ice cream, the nice older woman and her dog that we met in the park, everything. So I told him everything I could remember as I worked the soap into his back, taking care to work out all the knots I felt there. Aaron’s favorite part was being rinsed off when I would pour water with the cup that was always by the tub. I think it made him feel properly little, like back when he was a child getting baths. With each round of rinsing I could see his shoulders relax further and further. Washing his hair was the hardest from this position. I had him tip his head back and used a washcloth to help keep his eyes dry as I soaked his hair and soaped it up. I spent a while just massaging his scalp and pulling lightly at his hair. The whole time I was telling him how pretty he was, how good he was for me, what a sweet boy he was. I loved seeing the blush creeping up his cheeks and turning his ears pink. As much as I enjoyed when Aaron was my big strong alpha, I wouldn’t trade this for the world. Getting to be the one Aaron was soft and gentle with. It was precious. Eventually, I rinsed out his hair and climbed out of the tub. I pulled on my fluffy robe and grabbed Aaron’s for him, pulling him up out of the tub and wrapping him up in it. Gosh he was so cute like this, cuddled into the fluffy collar of his robe, hair falling in his eyes, cheeks pink. “Ok cutie, go sit on the bed, I’ll pick you out some pajamas.” I say over my shoulder, heading to the closet.
I stopped at his soft voice “can––“ he pauses when I glance at him. Somehow his cheeks got even more pink. “Go ahead, bub” I encouraged him “can I wear some panties, please? and maybe one of your shirts..” his voice was so soft and my heart ached at how sweet he is. “yeah bub, I think we can do that.” I promise him with a smile. I returned dressed in a thin, loose sweatshirt and underwear with his clothes in hand. I had his stand for me so I could dress him, carefully pulling the lace panties up his legs, making sure he was carefully arranged in it so nothing was pinching him or falling out. He looked so pretty like this with his cock covered in pale pink lace. I ran a finger over him, tracing the bulge against the lace and loved the soft whines he made and loved watching him grow, pressing against the lace. He whined a little when I pulled my hand away, so I gave him a little peck on his lips. “arms up please” he raises his hands immediately and I stood on my tip-toes to pull the sleeves over his arms, laughing a little when his head finally popped through the neck hole. His hair was so cute like this, perfectly messy and soft. Aaron loved wearing my shirts–he claimed they were softer, which was probably true. Aside from his work and sport clothes, all the clothes in the closet were “mine.” I sent him to go lay down with a slap on his butt, which had him blushing a dark red. I grabbed a couple things from the bathroom before sitting down at his feet. Aaron might like to pretend he’s all tough and burly, but one of his secret pleasures was mani-pedis.
I took my time massaging his feet before getting to work filing his toenails into a soft curve and painting them a glittery pink. I blew on his toes to dry them, loving how it would pull a giggle out of him. By this point, I knew Aaron wouldn’t be able to stay awake for much longer. That didn’t stop me from teasing him a bit. wanting to give him a manicure, I just had to straddle his hips to be able to reach both hands. It was the most logical option, really. At first, Aar was too sleepy to realize what I was doing. I felt him notice just as I was finishing massaging his left hand. I could feel him growing harder beneath me, whimpering a little as he tried to stop himself from rutting his hips up into my heat. “It’s ok baby, you can move if you want, that’s a good boy.” I cooed, encouraging him by grinding my hips down a bit. That was all he needed to start rutting up into he in earnest. His whimpers grew needier and needier, throwing his head back against the pillows. I continued taking care of his nails, cleaning up his cuticles, shaping his nails, and painting them the same glittery pink. When I’d finished with the first hand I could see Aaron was getting more desperate, hair falling across his furrowed brow. “you think you can hold on until I’m done baby?” he pouted a little but nodded. “good boy” I purred, which made him whine more. I took my time massaging his right hand and doing his nails just as carefully as his left hand. When I was done I held his hips down as I moved further back to sit on his thighs away from his desperately rutting hips. He couldn’t even control his needy whimpers. I would feel bad if he didn’t look so pretty like that. I checked to make sure his nail polish was dry first before telling him what I wanted. “Now pretty boy, touch yourself for me. I want to see you cum all over those pretty pink nails.” The words were barely out of my mouth before he was desperately pawing at his lace panties, pulling himself out and fucking up into his own hand. He was such a beautiful sight like this, desperate and hungry for release. His eyes were screwed shut and that just wouldn’t do, so I grabbed his chin. “I want you to watch yourself bub. I want you to watch your pretty little cock cum all over those glittery nails.” He let out a desperate cry and only lasted a few more pumps before he came in pretty white spurts. I was mesmerized with the way it dripped down his fingers, loving the way his sparkly nails looked covered in his own cum. Goodness, he was pretty. I looked up and him, finding him slumped back against the pillows his a lazy smile on his lips. He was so close to falling asleep, it was precious.
Quietly I got up for a wet washcloth, cleaned him off, and tucked him back into his panties with a soft kiss to his bulge. He whined weakly, but I knew he loved be over-sensitized. I turned our lamps off and pulled his back against me, loving falling asleep with my soft boy. I should have known the quiet wouldn’t last. Far too early, Aaron’s emergency cell rang. (house rules were the work cell is off the whole time he’s home, and if any one calls the emergency cell there better be a damned good reason.) There was a child missing, they had to go now. Aar grumbled an apology and promised he would be home soon. I just nodded and shooed him into the closet to get dressed, clarifying that the panties stayed on. He blushed but didn’t argue. He got dressed quickly, gave me a kiss, and swung by Jack’s room before he was out the door. I sighed, missing him already. I didn’t complain though, I knew that saving people is what made Aaron Aaron.
I woke up to possibly the funniest series of texts I have ever received in my entire life and a heavy Jack on my ribs.
[Crap.]
[You didn’t take it off. My collar, you didn’t take my collar off, I forgot to ask you..]
[and my nails, holy hell]
[MY NAILS ARE GLITTERY PINK]
[NO ONE HAS NAIL POLISH REMOVER AND MY NAILS ARE GLITTERY PINK AND I CAN’T TAKE OFF MY TIE BECAUSE I’M WEARING A PINK VELVET COLLAR]
[oh no.]
[I’m gonna get fired aren’t I?]
[no one besides the team has noticed yet..I’ve just been hiding my hands behind case files. Morgan is laughing at me and I can’t even intimidate him properly because I’m wearing GLITTERY PINK NAIL POLISH]
[how am I supposed to arrest our unsub with glittery pink nails???]
[also this collar is torture. Every time I think of it I almost get hard.]
[this is so embarrassing.]
[oh no..]
[am I into embarrassment??]
[alexa google humiliation kink]
[we’re talking when I get home.]
“Why are you smiling?” Jack asked sleepily
“nothing cutie, go back to sleep. How do pancakes sound?”
“pancakes!!!!” was Jack’s muffled reply with his face buried in pillows.
I chuckled, dialing Aaron on my way to the kitchen.
#heyo I know there's already a ton of daddy figures I write for but GUESS WHAT there's more!#sub!aaron hotchner#sub!hotch#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#cm#Aa is precious and I will not be denied#i write sometimes
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[ID 4 images. First is of Jon and his Nan holding hands and walking, then sitting together both looking away. Second is of Jon and Gertrude, backs to eath other bit watching each other from across the room. Third is of Jon and Gerry painting each others nails. Fourth is adult Jon in a large pink cardigan.
Extended ID under the cut. I recommend that you check it out even if you don’t want to read the full analysis and reasoning, as it points out the parts of the drawings that mean things, if that’s what you’re into yanno.]
I am once again talking about @polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup’s fic nature has taught her creatures to hate bc i am on a crusade to get everyone to read it (i do not know how i will accomplish this but i shall).
Anyway latest chapter had a few lines that made me feel things and a few lines that made me think things and then i started thinking about how i design Jon’s outfits for this au again and now i have to talk about it a bit under the cut.
Okay, so - first up i made a lil’ mistake with the first drawing - which was inspired by the line, ‘”They smell like home”’ in reference to Jon smoking cigarettes (from chapter 9). Naturally my first thought was his Nan, which is what inspired the above drawing, until I re-reread chapter 2 today and noticed the line ‘Nan hates smoking’, which rather suggests she wasn’t the person Jon was referencing.
This is fascinating because, up until now, I had assumed that all of Jon’s wishes to ‘go home’ were wished to see his Nan. Clearly this isn’t the case when it comes to the cigarettes. However, later in the new chapter there came a reference to my canon-smoking dead gay goth son, Gerry. I have concluded that Jon has changed his definition of home to Gerry at some point.
In a way I can’t quite articulate, I feel that there is a connection between Jon’s starving chain-smoking, his only connection between his home and his friend, and the line ‘”I’m more like me, like this”’ (in reference to his statement starvation). With the way smokers will often smoke to reduce their appetite, I think that smoking serves as a pseudo-anchor for him; that by attaching himself to Gerry as much as he can, he is trying to hold onto an identity he can barely recognise.
The point of these drawings was to try to analyse Jon’s identity and self-expression. Naturally, how Jon presents himself is something I think about a lot in relation to this series because if i didn’t i would never get anything done. So far there haven’t been many canon descriptions of him, but the smaller details paint an interesting picture, and the missing gaps are just a playground for me I guess.
Aside form references to how exhausted he looks in general, the first description of Jon, as i recall, came from Gertrude, describing Jon after what I believe was a few years under Elias’/Wright’s ‘care’. She mentioned his ‘short neat hair’ and his ‘clean white shirt’, (or something to that effect), which did not match the Jon I was more familiar with - with tiredness sagging his shoulders and the bags under his eyes; and feminine clothing and hair - but it did match Elias rather well. Elias would never have allowed Jon to look like anything other than his model son, a shrunken mirror image, so the long hair had to go.
Gertrude, I don’t think, was ever unkind to Jon. He felt her eyes on him often, and their conversations were never more or less than cordial words between strangers, but they spent years in each others company, shackled to the same rooms and man and god. Her little kitten knick-knack still sits in pride of place on his/her/their desk, and Jon never could clear out the spare clothes that smelled of burning buildings and insulted the dress code.
During the brief months or years he was allowed Gerry’s company, Jon would naturally have picked up on the other kid’s famous talent for self-expression. At this point he began to re-grow his hair out, tying it up in a bun in an imitation of his old style; of how his Nan wore it. Gerry wore skirts for their gender and Jon wore his for his Nan (putting a pin in the gender thing for a spare day that would never come). Gerry walked around in a cloud of rebellious smoke, sheltering Jon under their wing and smiles, and when they were gone Jon puffed out a cloud of lonely fog in an imitation of their company.
Extended ID
[ID 4 images in a rough wavy chalky style. This style doesn’t lend itself well to close detail, so no faces are rendered. In all drawings Jon is depicted with brown skin and dark hair.
First is of Jon and his Nan. There are two drawings in this image, first the two of them walking together, holding hands and looking away from each other. Jon is looking at his book, which has a red cover and cream pages, and Nan is smoking a cream cigarette with a glowing red end.
Their outfits are matching: Jon’s trousers and Nan’s blouse are both a pale blue; and Jon’s top and Nan’s floor length skirt are red-pink. Nan’s colour palette is more washed out than Jon’s, but the resemblance is clear. They both have long hair up in buns and where their hand link they blend together seamlessly.
The background for the first image is pale, but gets darker going down the image (think ‘colour of the sky’). In the second part of this drawing Jon and Nan both sit on the floor, back to back. Nan is curled up tight, her face buried in a book; her shoulders are tense, up to her ears. Jon sits turned away from the viewer, a lit cigarette in his hand, the slump of his shoulders and the limp hand signifying defeat. Once again their colours and hair match each other.
In both of these images the signature is in bright red, encouraging the viewer to look at the shared cigarette and book, the link and the downfall.
The second image shows Jon and Gertrude. Gertrude has short grey hair in a perm, and wears a pale blouse and long purple skirt. She is surrounded by vague smoke. Jon wears pressed slacks and a neat buttoned-up shirt, and his hair is short and neatly combed. A spider hangs, unnoticed, from his elbow. They’re both turned away from each other, a statement in hand, each at a three-quarter angle. The light source is between them, meaning that the farthest side of each of their faces is in shadow. In that shadow shines a green eye, which watches the other.
The third image shows Jon and Gerry together, sat on the floor next to some empty shelves. Gerry is dressed in almost all black, with a black trench coat and skirt and long black-brown hair. They also wear silver piercings, fishnets and a pink crop top. Their skin is pale. In one hand they hold a purple nail polish brush, and in the other they hold Jon’s hand. A lit cigarette hangs between their lips, smoke filling the upper quarter of the image.
Jon sits against the wall. He wears a pinkish skirt an blue blouse, similar to his Nan’s clothes in the first images. The sides of his dark hair hangs to his chin, while the top is help up in a small bun, which is close to collapsing. The hand that Gerry isn’t holding is wrapped around his knees, which are pulled up to his chest. He leans forwards, intent on Gerry.
On the shelf next to them there are three bottles of nail polish. On the floor beside them are their shoes - Jon’s neat brown oxfords and Gerry’s chunky steel-toed platforms - and a red and cream packet of cigarettes.
They are turned towards each other, something tender in the faceless looks they give each other, in the gentle hold Gerry has on Jon’s hand with it’s freshly painted purple nails.
The fourth image shows Jon on his own. His hair is up in a bun, and he wears a long red skirt. He wears a long pink cardigan that used to belong to Gertrude, half off the shoulder as though it doesn’t matter .He has platform heels, purple painted nails, a metal band t-shirt and a cigarette in his mouth.
#wow this rambled a lot huh#i should get a proper art tag huh#tma#fic rec#fanart#ill probably come back to clean up my rambles#probably#maybe#i didnt think i would get this done so quickly#ive been drawing for like 9 hrs today my hand is so sore
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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. I don’t have any request left, so feel free to send in suggestions for this card!).
Like blood on a patch of fresh snow.
I'm not sure of where this fic went, but... oh well. I don't want to look at it for much longer, so here y'all go, 1.9K words of whatever this is. I really wanted to write more NaomiLG because I love them, but I realize I'm really not their best writer, so I need to hone my skills. Take this weird-ass oneshot with a very specific and picturesque prompt as an attempt to nail them. It was fun to imagine all of the red-on-white imagery, at least. Title comes from a Rammstein song because it played while I was writing this and I figured, y'know, it means "red rose", so why not make it the title? It at least sounds epic to someone like me who knows shit about German. No correlation to the lyrics, though, far from it lmao.
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Rosenrot
Summary: Naomi's past catches up to her in a street as someone else's blood spills for her.
Fandom: Trauma Team (spoilers for TC:SO and TT) Ship: Naomi/Little Guy
Wordcount: 1.9K words
Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo
AO3 version available here.
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Like a widow who had lost her spouse, Naomi started wearing black after losing her ability to save lives. Back then, she didn’t really know why, probably to remind her of the sins she still had to expiate. It felt weird to her to wear white again, since it kept reminding her of the life she had to leave behind, that of a lifesaver whom people trusted with literally all they had left.
Even now, even as her life has gone back on track (she has a stable job, a daughter and friends who hold her in great esteem – things she thought she’d never have until a year ago), she continues wearing black because it feels more comfortable to be able to fade back into the shadows would she ever need to slip back into the night. She can’t ever live in the broad daylight, not anymore she knows this; but, as long as Alyssa doesn’t mind, then she doesn’t have a reason to complain. The cold and silence have their perks.
Wearing black, at first, was to hide stains when she was working with Delphi. God knows there was little hygiene there, so blood could easily show on clothing when they weren’t careful. Wearing black robes (or whatever outfit they had given her that looked very little like a robe) allowed them to conceal the dark reds and rusts more easily without having to think about it too much. Out of sight, out of mind, she supposed.
On the other hand, blood is too visible on white. Of course, it is the point of wearing it for surgical procedures, since it’s easier to disinfect – it’s still too visible for people like Delphi or, in a way, her. Even to this day, seeing reddish stains on white fabric makes her uneasy, reminding her of things she’d much rather never think about again. She’s like the black-clad widow staring at the radiant bride with a wine stain on her dress: she knows what she lost and has the feeling of seeing a bad omen.
There is this one thing about Delphi she has stopped minding, and it’s Little Guy, or whatever his real identity was supposed to be. If he reminded her of their dark past not too long ago, he now represents what they could become: atoners, working for “the right side” for once, working in the shadows to help the living move on like they’ve had to. Unlike her, he didn’t let himself dwell on the past, preferring to get moving.
The moment she understood it the most when he started to wear white more than black, renouncing to the colour she was always used to see him dress. It felt weird, at first, but he knew how to pull it off, and she got used to the new habits. Never dwell on the past, let herself get swiped away by the changing winds. Moreover, Alyssa really liked it whenever he’d drop by the house after driving her home after work or getting Alyssa from school when she couldn’t.
But now, the past has caught back to them. Ex-Delphi members have found them again, motivated by the recent rise (and fall, but they forgot about that second time) of Adam’s nephew trying to bring the virus back right as PGS cases flare up across the USA. They’re not running away, this time: she did that enough when going to seek amnesty in Europe, so now, she better prepare herself to strike. Little Guy already cocks his FBI-licenced gun out, intending to strike judging by the little tremors in his fingers.
It goes in a flash: a couple bangs, blood spilling on the ground, dirt and smoke and iron fill the air of an urban cul-de-sac. The commotion is such that it’s difficult to follow anything until the stench of violence lifts up and so does the smog it created. For a moment, she believes they may have both gotten killed, and that she’s already passing into the afterlife, in denial of everything, not ready to face death nor discover if there is, indeed, something on the “other side” that isn’t roaming around this world and calling the “voodoo hotline”.
One thing quickly becomes clear: she is still alive. In fact, everyone is somehow still alive, because she sees their three assailants with their weapons on the floor and wounds in their legs: they were only harmed to disarm them. She pats her own clothes and body to check if she hasn’t been injured, remembering reflexes she had thought long gone coming back to her in a moment’s notice. To her fortune, she seems okay, as she only feels dirt, dry clothing and skin under her fingers’ touch.
Seeing the men lie on the ground in pain, she already grabs her phone and calls for help, going into not too many details for everyone’s safety and privacy.
“Little Guy,” she starts calling to her partner so they can get away from this place before being brought into this, her finger about to swipe the call off, “let’s go.”
His response is delayed.
“Sure… Sure thing.”
His voice sounds strangled and hesitant, drier than her clothes, and it prompts her to turn around. As soon as she does, however, her own breath gets caught in her throat as her entire body tenses up. Her mind, which was until now fixated on running as far as possible from the scene before they were going to be questioned about the bullets in their pursuers’ limbs, immediately switches to the same sort of panic she felt in Caduceus Europe all those years ago when she witnessed a fellow surgeon collapse in pain.
Little Guy!
He’s sitting on the ground, back against the wall that cornered them until now, a hand loosely holding onto his gun, the other barely holding onto a striking red stain on his clear, monochrome attire. It’s expanding moment after moment, replacing the immaculate white of his shirt and suit jacket with a much darker colour. If it was only the bloodstained clothes, it’d have been fine, no matter how much this man frets over such things – but it’s not what is scaring her so much about this.
“Little Guy, what happened?!”
As he struggles to get an answer out, she takes his pulse: there, obviously, since he’s breathing, but weakening. His breathing is quick but shuddering, as if fragile like glass.
“One… one of them was armed,” he replies, swallowing every few words. “One bullet hit… my flank, I think?”
Not caring for the nail polish Alyssa put on her fingers last night, Naomi digs under the bloodstained jacket and where the incriminated wound must be. There, she confirms Navel’s suspicions: it’s indeed in his flank.
“If my assumption is correct, it shouldn’t have hurt an organ,” she says, a little bit of relief pulsing through her. “We need to get you into a hospital asap, though, you’re bleeding profusely.”
She grabs back her phone, which she previously slipped into her pocket, and adds the information on a fourth wounded. She gives more information on their location and the circumstances, merely forgetting to mention this is all because of Delphi’s doings and their smothered shady pasts, and stays on the line, putting the phone in speaker mode so she doesn’t miss crucial information.
“You should go, Dr Kimishima,” Navel whispers, eyes getting glassy and unfocused, the speed at which this happens prompting her to check the wound again. The blood has spread even further, making the fabric stick to the wound. “Don’t… let them catch up to you.”
“You’re an idiot if you think I’m leaving you for dead. Plus, I’d rather have to search for amnesty again than get pursued for not helping someone in critical need.”
It’s the pragmatic way to say she’d never handle having his blood on her hands and his death on her conscience. He, however, doesn’t reply, letting uncomfortable silence install itself as they wait for assistance to arrive.
When they do, the sirens’ shrills muffle Navel’s breathing, lights almost covering the blood stains on his suit and her fingers, slipping under her nails, drying out already.
It could, however, never erase the image from her mind.
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Naomi waits in this bedroom, all alone and in silence, for a little while. She doesn’t know how long exactly (probably around half an hour, although it feels like more than that), all she knows is that the chair she’s sitting on isn’t very comfortable and that she needs to remember when to pick Alyssa from school; two things that, for the moment being, don’t matter much.
The weather is beautiful, today. Even earlier, when they were outside, there was a gentle breeze blowing through their hair. She merely forgot about it due to thinking about literally anything else under the sun, mostly her colleague whom she found out wasn’t just randomly hit during the kerfuffle. To be fair, she should’ve guessed that was what had happened when she suddenly found herself on the ground rather than standing, but…
She suddenly hears Little Guy stirring and, finally, opening an eye. His injuries were fortunately not as grievous as she was afraid they’d be, even if he’s clearly landed himself for at least a week in the hospital. What an idiot.
“Doc… Doctor Kimishima…?”
“Go back to sleep, Little Guy, you still sound like you’ve pulled a week-long all-nighter.”
As if obeying her (but most likely because losing this much blood tends to leave you weak, and his corpulence isn’t exactly one that’d take kindly to blood loss), his eyelids flutter; but he doesn’t go back to sleep. At least, not yet.
“Are you okay…?” He asks, voice recovering some clarity, even if it’s unlike his usual swagger.
“I’m pretty sure I should be the one asking you that, you know; but I’m okay. Better off than you, that’s for sure.”
He chuckles once before groaning in pain.
“Urgh, I forgot how sore post-surgery was…”
“You’ll get used to it. Believe me, I know.”
“I’m sure you do, Dr Kimishima.”
She drops the playful banter for something else altogether.
“Oh, and, Little Guy?”
“Yes…?”
“Never do that again. I don’t want to see you covered in your own blood again.”
His face, which is slowly regaining more colour, distorts a little.
“Even if…”
“Even if it means saving my life.”
He looks aside, in silence. She guesses he’s unable to honestly give her the answer she wants to hear, so he instead prefers not to say anything. Well, that’s something she expected would happen: people have told her he was wrapped around her little finger. Too bad that this man got infatuated with someone like her whom death and misfortune follow her every step. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, considering the number of close calls he found himself in when he was by her side. You sometimes have to wonder what other people even think…
“I’ll… I’ll try,” he eventually replies.
Naomi can’t stay upset about it forever, especially when she sees how dishevelled and vulnerable he looks with his hair askew, dark rings under his eyes and hospital gown, so far from the sharply-dressed bachelor she’s come to appreciate.
“Good. Just be careful and we’ll be clear.”
“Sure thing, ma’am.”
As long as he doesn’t mind being so close to death, she’ll make sure he doesn’t meet it.
#bad things happen bingo#trauma center#trauma team#naomi kimishima#little guy navel#how do you even tag this dude#bthb#bloodstained clothes#my writing
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Cataracts - What Surgery Is Like
As previously mentioned, I’d developed cataracts and am now going through surgery for them, and have elected to document a bit about what it’s all like from my viewpoint. Mostly because I think it’d make a nice reference for anyone wanting to write with some degree of accuracy about what it’s like from the inside.
This post contains a description of the surgical process involved and what that actually feels like, I’m trying not to be overly graphic but I’m also not elliding over any of the grosser bits (thankfully and surprisingly very little).
First off, a descriptiong of the preliminaries. This started for me with my vision going blurry over the last couple of years, and finally getting around to visiting my old optomitrist when I happened to be in Toronto over last Christmas (as my one up north just retired a couple years ago, and I hadn’t replaced her yet). Of the several potential causes for the vision loss I was experiecing, what I had turned out to be cataracts, of the variety that occurs at the back of the lens and therefor doesn’t cause easily-visible clouding. Which I actually said “Oh, thank god!” to when the optomitrist told me, since they are the absolute easiest thing to fix, while some of the other options (detached retina, or diabetes-related macular degradation, to name a couple) are much less so. Then he gave me a reference to an opthamologist. Thanks to COVID-19, it was this fall before I was finally able to actually get to the clinic and see her.
From my point of view, the process then went pretty quickly. Note that I was at an eye institute that specializes in cataract treatment; everything is contained in one building (a nicely renovated Victorian brick house in the Annex area of Toronto). So all tests and surgery are done on premises.
First appointment there, they did the same sort of vision tests my optomitrist generally does, plus some extra inner-eye photography to get a good look at what was going on. This was done by two different people, one doing the eye-chart related tests and a different one doing the photography. Then I met briefly with my doctor, who looked over my questionnaire (which included questions like whether near, mid, or distance vision was most important to me, and was there a focal distance I particularly needed to be glasses free for, etc.), and that I didn’t need nor have interest in a lens replacement that wasn’t covered under our provincial health care.
A week later I returned for them to perform eye measurement tests, which are used as a basis for manufacturing the replacement lens. They measure the size and shape of the eye, and mostly just involved staring into various machines while photos are taken. The weirdest one, which they did last, involved dripping numbing drops into my eyes, and then lightly pressing a small sensor to multiple places both directly on the eyeballs and then on the closed lids. Something to do with viscosity I’d assume.
And now for a description of the general surgical process, which you can also find summarized (or in more detail) at a number of medical web sites. In my case, it was a pretty basic surgery being performed; the opthamologist needed to make a small slit in the outer layer of my eye, used a tiny probe to break down the lens using ultrasound waves, vacuum out the broken down lens, then use a largish needle to insert a folded plastic lens into the eye, where it would unfold within the capsular space and could be tweaked as needed into the correct position. The cut in the eye is tiny enough that it usually doesn’t even need stitching, apparently.
I was asked to arrive at a specific time, and had to start applying dilating drops to my eyes an hour, half-hour, and five minutes before leaving for the clinic. No nail polish or facial makeup. Preferable wearing comfortable pants and a loosely short-sleeved button front shirt without any undershirt or long underwear beneath it (which turns out to be a “just in case things go crazily sideways” measure; they didn’t actually need to access anything on my torso).
The first step after I arrived at the clinic was being dressed in PPE - one of their own disposable masks to be sure I was wearing a good enough one (that wasn’t coated in whatever mine had picked up outside), a hair cap, a long-sleeved thigh-length blue plasticized robe (it had thumb holes to prevent the sleeves from slipping), and booties over my shoes.
Then I was taken to their surgical floor, where a nurse began a series of eye drops. These included more dilation, an antispectic, and an antibiotic, that I can remember - multiple drops of all. She also gave me a teeny tiny pill to place under my tongue and let dissolved, which contained a small dose of a relaxant/anti-anxiety med (Sorry, she told me the name of it at the time but it’s dropped out of my memory). I didn’t notice any particular change in my mood, but then I’d been counting slow deep breaths since arriving (4 seconds in, 4 seconds out...) to help keep myself relaxed and give myself something to focus on that wasn’t omfg I’m going to be awake during this! Because yeah, not having a clue what it was going to be like was stressful. Nurse also took my blood pressure to be sure I was fine in that regards, and put a sticker on the gown to remind the doctor that it was my right eye being done that day.
After a brief wait, I was moved into one of the surgical theatres, where there was a dentist chair they sat me in, then connected a blood pressure cuff, fingertip monitor (hence the no nail polish rule) and sensors on the backs of both hands and one ankle (I’m assuming those were measuring a mix of blood oxygenation and heartbeat, with the ankle one making sure my feet were still getting blood when I was spending the surgery in what ended up as a tipped-over-backwards with head lowest position). They then rinsed my eye and the orbital area with bactine (very yellow vision while that happens), then patted the area around the eye dry.
The doctor sat at my head, and applied a medical drape with a pre-cut adhesive-edged opening over my eye, then peeled off a translucent applique that was over the hole. Then they applied medical clamps that held my eyelids in the open position (which thanks to the numbing drops, I didn’t feel at all). A brightly lighted microscope was then positioned over the eye, and I was told to stay as still as possible and stare at the red dot in the lighted area. The doctor then did the surgery as described above. From my point of view, there was very little to feel; occasional dull pressure, some random coldness that I believe was the eye being irrigated. I could hear the occasional very quiet noise the probe made as the lens was sucked away, but mostly it was just staring at the red light as well as I could while my vision distorted oddly and I continue counting breaths. Within what felt like no more than 5-10 minutes (if that), it was all over with.
They had me continue to lie there for a couple minutes while they peeled off the drape, wiped the eye area clean, and removed all the sensors, then a brief rest before having me sit up.
I blinked once or twice, and... DAMN! Sudden near-perfect vision in an eye that hasn’t seen clearly without help since I was in single digit ages. And the saturation. The detail.
Now, my left eye of course still has a cataract (it gets treated next week). I’d been telling people for a while that basically all my right eye was seeing was blur, so my left eye was doing most of the seeing, and I thought my left eye wasn’t anywhere near as bad as my right. With my right eye now seeing perfectly, I could now alternate opening eyes from side to side, and see just how badly (and irregularly) blurred and yellowed the left lens actually is. To which I can only saw, WTF, how was I even seeing anything at all!?
Then they had me sit for a while in the waiting area, where the doctor came and double-checked I was fine, and gave me a kit in a plastic bag of a card that identifies that I have an interocular lens (and info about it), a prescription for two different eye drops (antibiotic and anti-inflamatory) which was enough for both this eye and the eye getting operated on next week, and a shield to wear at night for the first five nights, to be sure I don’t accidentally rub it or put pressure on it.
Then I put on sunglasses (because hugely dilated eye) and walked out.
Side note - they won’t do your operation unless you have a ride home arranged; because that tiny pill means you’re in a slightly altered state, among other reasons. Good thing it was my brother and not, say, a taxi, since among other things it took us three drugstores to find one that actually had both kinds of eyedrops in stock, yay super fun.
Also, remember me talking about the starburst rays I was seeing around lights due to cataracts? While my eye was still dilated (which lasted until after midnight) I was seeing what I can only describe as ‘Ferris wheels’ - a burst of rays expanding out like the spokes of a wheel, and ending in an uneven ring of dots of bright light, each wheel matching the colour of the light causing it. Looked wild at night. Thankfully that effect has now gone away.
Had a follow-up appointment this morning where they did an eye chart and the rebounce test where they puff air at your cornea, and the opthamologist says the vision in that eye tested as 20/20 (WOOO! Finally something good with that number). I can see sharply and clearly for blocks from the mid-range on out. Sadly when I try to use my computer, tablet, etc (near-range and close vision) the eye can’t focus down far enough; some of that may improve over the next month or two as the eye continues healing, and adapting to the lens. In the meantime my sister suggested I try a pair of her reading glasses and, yay, that worked. I am now planning that after my follow-up appointment for next week’s surgery on the left eye, I’ll run around and pick up 2-3 pairs of reading glasses of various strengths (which I will get will depend on what seems to work best with arm’s length and close-in viewing), to carry me through until I go back to an optomitrist in a month or three, and get my vision evaluated to see if I need actual prescription reading and/or far distance glasses.
In the meantime, apart from computer/tablet use, I am glasses free. I can’t even remember ever having such sharp, clear, and saturated vision (since I’ve been in glasses for such a long time). You know the “oh, trees are made of leaves!” effect? I am getting that with every single thing I look at. Oh, that’s how much grey is in my hair? Weird, I never noticed this wall was textured before. Oh geez, that text over there is so small and yet I AM READING IT. I mean, even with glasses I probably was never able to read that from this distance! Etc ad infinitum.
It’s just so, so nice.
And that’s with just one eye finished. I am now really looking forward to next week’s surgery. Stress? What stress!?
#Cataracts#Me Myself and I#If you've ever wondered what having cataract surgery was actually like...#CW: Surgery Details
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Wild One : Prince!Luke
Summary: Prince AU in a reality where it’s modern but there are lots royal families ruling over small kingdoms. Luke is a flamboyant Prince with a reputation for being wild and a dick to everyone he meets. you’re a Princess and your families want you and Prince Luke to pretend to be in a relationship to make his reputation better with his impending coronation. this is practically princess diaries 2 fam. (Harry Styles makes a cameo because im a slut)
Warnings: okay so there are 4 or 5 steamy scenes. they’re each different but this is smut so: choking, spanking, dom Luke, a tad breeding kink, that sort of thing. slow burn, angst.
Word count: 14.5k
Note: this is a personal attack on @glitterprincelu. also, every link in this fic is for the same video because i am a hoe for it.
Here’s a taste so you know what you’re getting into:
Luke forced a similar smile, “you’re right sweetheart, i might be, but i’m sure you’ve heard other things, havent you?” his eyes bore into yours and you fidgeted in your seat slightly, “yes darling you know exactly what i’m talking about.” his voice lowered to something near a growl, “well let me make things clear for you. i’m a sex god. i fuck who i want, when i want, and the girls are grateful to have even a moment of my attention. they beg for it. my room had to be sound proofed so my name wouldn't ring through the hallways every night. the girls who i haven’t fucked, would give anything to have a chance at me and the one’s who have? well they would kill to have me again because the rumours are true baby, i’m that good.” your smile faltered slightly and Luke’s widened, “so if you’re going to talk about what you’ve heard of me, don’t cherry pick darling, you’ll be sorry if you do.”
-----------------------
It was two in the afternoon by the time Luke entered the palace, waltzing past the security as he dropped his large fur jacket on the ground, taking off his sunglasses and throwing them, there were always more where that came from.
“Luke!” His mother called as he began walking up the stairs to his room, “I need to talk to you.”
Luke stopped and let out a loud groan, “can’t it wait till later?”
The look his mother gave him said no as he sighed and followed her into the large living room area, flopping his long body onto a couch so he could kick off his gold boots and rub at his eyes, hands coming back speckled in sparkles.
splayed across the coffee table were tabloids. “this one’s new.” Luke grinned, picking up a magazine that showed him leaving the club with his arms around two models, a birthday hat on his head and his shirt missing, “they believed me when i said it was my birthday.”
“i’m sure that’s not true.” His mother sighed, eyes going down to the magazine covers as a look of distaste flashed across her face, “you’ve made quite a spectacle of yourself this month Luke.”
“been having fun.” he shrugged, tossing the magazine down as he studied the other covers.
The one from the month before when his buddy, ‘Prince Daddy Ashton’ as all the ladies call him, bought a yacht and proceeded to throw a week long rager on board. someone had leaked a picture of Luke wearing a captain’s hat and spraying two bottles of champagne all over a crowd of girls in bikinis.
then, of course, there was the cover that showed him in his beautiful golden crown and red cape getting a blowjob. that one had taught Luke that open windows were not a good idea when he had ladies over, it had also significantly tightened the on-ground security measures. it had been quite the scandal and no matter how many times Luke insisted that it was a one time thing and the girl had suggested it, people didn’t believe him.
Not that he cared at all. Luke was confident in himself and his life style. Being young, beautiful, filthy rich and royal had its perks.
“Do i need to worry about a new cover tomorrow? i’m sure your escapade last night was less than discrete.” his mother sighed.
Luke shrugged, “it was pretty tame.” he rubbed at his eyes again, more glitter transferring to his hand.
“your neck says otherwise my love.”
Luke laughed, “shit, forgot about that.” a small sound of movement drew his blue eyes to the door as a maid walked in, “you, whiskey, neat.” he said, snapping his fingers.
“he’ll have coffee.” his mother interjected, smiling nicely at the maid who scurried away.
Luke groaned loudly, “what do you want with me mother.” he only ever called her mother when he was hung over, which had been happening more and more frequently as of late, “i’m tired.”
“Your father is stepping down at the end of the year.” she stated.
“pfff.” Luke rolled his eyes, “as if.”
“I’m not joking Luke.”
“well what does this have to do with me, i’m sure Ben is ecstatic, he’ll finally be king-”
“Ben won’t be king, he did not score highest on the aptitude test.” Luke’s mother sighed.
the Aptitude Test. Luke hated it. some dumb test to see if a royal would be fit to rule. Every royal was forced to take the test at age eighteen. in families like Luke’s with multiple children under a King and Queen, whichever child scored highest would become ruler upon the parent’s retirement. upon initial retirement request by the king or queen, the test scores of the children would be revealed to the royal family to allow coronation preparation.
“well, then Jack-” Luke began, eye brows furrowing in confusion.
“you scored the highest.” Luke’s mother interrupted.
Luke laughed, “that’s impossible. I can’t be king-”
“you will be king.” His mother stated.
Never in the history of the aptitude test had a child who scored highest not become ruler. the aptitude test was law, the most important royal law.
But Luke had lived his entire life knowing he would never be king.
It was like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs as Luke doubled over, feet planting firmly on the ground as he ran his fingers through his hair, “fuck.”
“i wish this wasn’t the case, it’s less than ideal.” his mother began, “but we have to adapt. we have a few months to change your image so when the coronation is finally announced and it is revealed that you will be king, people won’t be as opposed to it.”
Luke began searching his pockets for his flask and he let out a sigh of relief when he found it, opening it to put it to his lips before his mother grabbed it and pulled it away, “for starters, no more drinking.”
“you’ve got to be fucking me.”
“no more swearing.”
“but-”
“no more but’s, Luke.” she said, reaching over and lifting the summoning bell she rang it twice and a group of people came with stacks of folders.
Luke recognized the Public Relations team, they’d tried to micromanage him when he turned the legal drinking age but had given up long ago.
“what the fuc-”
“Luke.”
“what the heck is going on?” Luke corrected himself with a groan as someone handed him the folders.
“we think it’s best if you’re seen with a steady woman. someone proper who can keep you on a tight leash.” his mother explained, “in these folders are details on all of the Princesses who would be suitable-”
“thought you were a Queen not a pimp.”
“Luke.” his mother said sternly.
“i can’t say pimp now?” Luke asked, opening one of the folders.
His mother stood, “just, look through the folders Luke. we need a decision by tonight.”
----
Luke groaned as he rolled around in his silk sheets, grabbing at the plush fur blanket before sitting up and feeling around for his phone. He messaged the kitchen staff, telling them what he wanted for dinner to be delivered to his room.
his eyes went to the stack of folders splayed out on the foot of his bed and he groaned, opening one. he recognized the first Princess, even met her once or twice but she was always looking down at him. he threw her folder on the ground, grabbing the next one.
the folders described basic information, likes, dislikes, that sort of thing. if they seemed okay, Luke would look the Princess up on instagram and scroll through their posts.
his dinner arrived and he ate it while looking through the rest of the folders. the last one he picked up said your name on it. he’d heard of you before and when he opened your folder he knew why, you were beautiful. he’d heard of you from a few of his buddies. Ashton was always trying to flirt with you and even Cal and Michael agreed that you were super cool but none of them had managed to woo you.
it was a no brainer for Luke in that moment. he threw on a long red silk robe and pulled his hair back into a messy bun, grabbing your folder and leaving his room.
Luke’s first stop was the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, then he went off to find his mother. she was in her office, as usual.
her eyes went to his hands, the chipped red nail polish and the long, once pianist fingers, holding the glass of whiskey. but if there was anything Luke’s mother knew, it was when to pick her battles and this was not one worth picking.
he tossed the folder onto her desk and took a seat across from her, taking a sip of his drink and grinning at the burn that seared through his throat.
his mother opened the folder and looked up at Luke, “good choice.” she said, “i’ll contact her family and see if we can make this work.”
---
It had been a long week for Luke. His mother had enforced a house arrest on Luke, especially after he made headlines yet again with a picture of a girl straddling him in the club and sucking on his neck.
the PR team had extensively briefed him on all the rules of the ‘relationship’. what he could do and not do.
he was allowed one shot, no more than one, per two hours with a maximum of five shots a day spread out over ten hours if absolutely necessary.
one beer equals one shot, same restrictions applied.
no drugs. except cigarettes but only in specially designated areas on palace grounds where no one could get a picture, and only two per day.
the two of you would go on two public dates in the first week, three on the second, with a steady rate of two to four public appearances each week.
“what about sex?” Luke had asked.
“if you must, invite girls to the palace but there will be absolutely no interaction with any woman but Y/N in public. and any girl you bring over has to sign a confidentiality agreement upon entering the palace, through the back gate.”
“brilliant, so you’re cock blocking me too.”
“just get them to sign the confidentiality form.” the PR head said, sliding Luke a folder full of official looking documents, each with their own area for a different signature.
“Y/N will be staying at the five star hotel down the street for the entirety of the relationship. prior to each date you will be given information on the restaurants or outings you two will be doing, as well as an itinerary. body guards will accompany you everywhere you go and they are instructed to keep you away from all the before mentioned vices that you are accustomed to.”
“and one final thing Prince Luke, we have assigned you a stylist-”
“i can dress myself.” Luke stated.
“Prince Luke-”
“i said, i can freaking dress myself, thank you very much.” and with that, he left the room to go get ready for his ‘date.’
---
Luke’s black boot tapped against the white marble floor as he fidgeted with the legacy ring on his thumb before running a hand through his wild tangle of golden curls. dressed in black suit pants and a black silk button up, Luke didn’t feel entirely out of place with the five star restaurant he was sitting in.
okay, maybe the choker was an extra, unnecessary touch, but if his mother was able to draw the line at glitter highlighter on the first date, then he’d be damned if he showed up without something to stand out with.
the sound of heels on marble drew his attention up as you entered the restaurant, a waiter showing you over to the table.
you looked ravishing. dressed in a beautiful silky dress that hugged all the right curves, Luke’s eyes immediately began undressing you. he stood abruptly, his awkwardly long legs almost knocking over the table as he muttered “fuck” but composed himself so he could open his arms for a hug.
you grinned brilliantly as you tucked into his arms, fitting perfectly.
Luke allowed himself to relish in the feeling for a moment before pulling away and motioning for you to sit down.
he sat across from you, “if i didn’t know better, i would think you’re actually happy to be here.” he stated.
you smiled, “all for the pictures darling.”
“so i’m Luke.”
“Y/N. you signed the contract?”
“yeah. you?”
“yup.”
“what are you getting out of this?” he asked, lifting up a menu, eyes scanning over it.
“well, i can only assume that because of your need for a public imagine cleansing, it’s likely that when your father retires, which im guessing is soon... it seems like you won the aptitude test.” you answered, not looking up at him as you scanned the menu.
you had the whole thing figured out and Luke laughed, “you’re smart. your folder didn’t say you were smart.”
you let out a beautiful laugh that rang through the restaurant, drawing eyes as people admired the two beautiful royals at dinner. “bet there’s a lot of things my folder didn’t say.”
“good point.” Luke snapped his fingers which drew your attention as a waiter scurried over, “we’ll have your best bottle of wine.” he stated.
“very good sir, anything else?”
“the wine will be fine for now.” you answered before Luke could say anything else.
as the waiter scurried away Luke grinned sheepishly, “wine is something civilized people drink right?”
“oh definitely.” you said sarcastically, “your folder left out the part about you snapping your fingers to get people’s attention.”
“someone made a folder about me?” Luke burst out laughing, “what else did it say?”
“nothing good.” you answered, “now, if we’re going to be seen together, you can’t snap your fingers to get what you want anymore. i won’t have it.”
Luke’s eyes narrowed at you. one date in and you were already making rules. rules on top of the rules he already had. and Luke did not like it. not one bit. “fine. if you don’t want me to snap my fingers then you have to wave down the help.”
“wow, you really are the pompous, arrogant, mama’s boy everyone says you are.” your words cut like knives but the beautiful smile remained fixed on your face.
Luke forced a similar smile, “you’re right sweetheart, i might be, but i’m sure you’ve heard other things, havent you?” his eyes bore into yours and you fidgeted in your seat slightly, “yes darling you know exactly what i’m talking about.” his voice lowered to something near a growl, “well let me make things clear for you. i’m a sex god. i fuck who i want, when i want, and the girls are grateful to have even a moment of my attention. they beg for it. my room had to be sound proofed so my name wouldn't ring through the hallways every night. the girls who i haven’t fucked, would give anything to have a chance at me and the one’s who have? well they would kill to have me again because the rumours are true baby, i’m that good.” your smile faltered slightly and Luke’s widened, “so if you’re going to talk about what you’ve heard of me, don’t cherry pick darling, you’ll be sorry if you do.”
you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as your eyes flickered over the gorgeous blondes face, you opened your mouth to say something when the waiter came back with the wine.
he showed you the bottle and poured you each a modest class before setting the bottle in the middle of the table, “have you two decided on dinner?”
Luke ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, specifying a bunch of different alterations on it before the waiter turned to you and accepted your order as well.
meanwhile, Luke swirled his wine around before drinking the entire thing, setting his glass down and filling it again.
as the waiter left, you sighed, “i thought your contract specified your alcohol intake.”
“mentioned beer and shots but not wine.” he answered. great, so the whole ‘wine is what civilized people drink’ was fake.
He swirled his wine around and you watched him, thinking about the way your heart was still beating in your chest like you’d just run a marathon.
He was right. You had heard about him. You’d heard about the orgies and the threesomes, his extravagant sexual antics that always somehow ended up in the news. you’d heard about the models and the movie stars, the songs written about him.
One of the songs was a bop about ‘the golden haired diva’ and it had been obvious who it was about, especially when the artist won an award for it and thanked the Prince, who had been sitting in the audience with his arms around two different pop singers and just grinned when the camera panned to him.
he was the world’s favourite rich, bad boy.
and sitting there in that restaurant you saw the allure. part of you wanted to do something, anything, that would get him to speak to you in that low voice again. part of you wanted to see what would happen if you asked him to join you at your hotel later. but the part of you that grew up a Princess knew how to keep composure as you set your hands in front of you, interlocking your fingers.
“we should think of something to talk about.” you suggested, “after all, we have to be together for a few months.”
“tell me some secrets.” he suggested, sipping his wine.
“like what?” you laughed.
“dirty secrets.” he grinned at you over the rim of his glass, “a girl who looks like you can’t be as prim and proper as you seem, something tells me you’re into some dirty shit, aren't you babe?.”
you sighed, maintaining your smile, “wasn’t ‘no swearing’ on your contract?”
“didn’t answer the question darling.”
you reached out and grabbed your wine, taking a sip to hopefully loosen up a bit, “this is good,” you noted, setting it down, you rested your face on your hand, looking at the beautiful boy in front of you.
this was one of those moments. you could either choose to let loose and break the ice, answer all his dirty questions, or you could put up a wall and make life more difficult for both of you.
“why don’t you tell me what you think I like?” you suggested, cocking your head at him with a grin.
he studied your red lips. the way they matched your beautiful red dress. hell, even your nails matched. you were an absolute vision. and there was this big expanse of space between the two of you: the table.
Luke had never had to hold himself back before. girls were always throwing themselves at him, never keeping themselves at a distance. you were unattainable and part of it made him want you like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life. his eyes trailed down to your collarbones and the way the dress accentuated your cleavage, moving slightly up and down with each breath.
he set down his wine and leaned forward, voice dipping low again, “tell me when i’m getting close, Princess. you like a guy who can rough you up a little, someone not afraid to take charge, when you’re in the frisky mood, a little bit of choking, nothing too extreme, but i think that’s just because you’ve never met the right guy who could introduce you to the darker side of sex, the fun side.”
“and you’re that guy?”
Luke leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out so one of his feet brushed yours under the table, he shrugged, “i am, but something tells me you don’t have the guts to fully let loose and i’m not down to share control so unless you’re one hundred percent ready to submit completely, it’s not worth my time.”
what a fucking dick. he’s gorgeous, but wow.
“oh yeah? well how about i analyze you and we’ll see how much you like it?” you asked, “you like control because you have a constant need to prove yourself. you grew up the youngest of three children and you never thought you’d be good enough so you made sure you could be the best at things that are important to other people, so... sex. but you don’t want anyone to question you ever. you only go for girls who are submissive because they won’t talk back and hurt your fragile ego.”
Luke rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest but you continued.
“you’re a mama’s boy and everything has been handed to you your entire life. girls throw themselves and are easy because you’re cute and have money so you’ve never had to actually work for anything, which means, any girl who isn’t ‘one hundred percent ready to submit completely’ is probably effort and you don’t know what effort even is which scares the shit out of you. because you don’t think you’d actually be able to get a girl not already falling head over heals for you.” you grinned as he narrowed his eyes at you, “aw, was that too close to home for you baby?”
he was eerily still for a few moments before he downed his glass of wine and stood, “i’ll be back.” he stated, turning and heading off in the direction of the bathroom.
you had been harsh. but he had suggested you weren’t worth his time. And you had been warned that he was an asshole with no experience with female royals, no strong women to contend against him.
the waiter returned with your food and you realized Luke had been gone a while. you sighed, motioning the waiter over, “Hello, i’m so sorry, my friend was feeling a little sick, I’m just going to go check on him, I’ll be right back.”
“of course Princess Y/N.” the waiter smiled, “the bathroom is this way.”
he led you to the mens room and you thanked him before opening the door and peering in. it was a posh, five star restaurant, which meant that they had a full on couch and fireplace in the bathroom.
Luke was sitting on the couch with his phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “your food came out.” you stated, drawing his attention from his phone.
“men’s room darling, you can’t be in here.” He said absentmindedly.
“we can get the food to go but we need to be seen leaving together.” you explained.
he stood up abruptly and approached you as you stepped back and bumped into the closed door, you realized how tall he was. towering over you, even while you were in heals. his shoulders broad and the first few buttons of his black silk shirt undone, exposing the tiniest bit of chest hair that worked to make him more manly in an almost animalistic way. a choker wrapped around his neck that drew attention his chiseled jaw, just slightly covered in golden stubble.
he stepped closer and you bit at your lip, wondering what he would do. he leaned in, and you held your breath, “you’re blocking the door.” he said, his breath brushing over your skin and causing goose bumps to appear as he stepped back and allowed you to move out of his way.
He opened the door and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he pulled you out of the bathroom. everyone in the restaurant watched the two of you head back to your seats and you sighed, this was not a good start to his public image.
Luke even pulled out your chair for you as you sat down before going back to his own. You both ate in silence and the waiter cleared your plates, “would you like a dessert menu tonight?”
“Yes.” Luke answered.
“thank you.” you said, eying Luke as the waiter left.
“dessert?” you asked.
“it will look good on camera if we share a dessert.” he stated.
even you couldn’t argue with that. The waiter brought back the menu and Luke handed it to you, “choose whatever you want.”
you sighed loudly as you looked at the menu, choosing something then handing the menu back to the waiter who left again.
your eyes went to Luke’s hands, fingers playing with the stem of his glass. “you should have a professional do your nails sometime. they won’t chip as easily.”
“i like it when they chip. it’s edgy. goes with my look.”
he just sat there and stared at you and you met his gaze, refusing to back down or apologize. you both stayed like that until the dessert was placed between the two of you.
Luke picked up a spoon, taking a small piece and holding it out to you, “wanna taste?”
you forced a smile, leaning across the table (something that you were fully aware gave him a beautiful view of your cleavage that was practically popping out of your dress) your lips closed around the spoon as you accepted him feeding you.
he watched your pretty lips on the spoon and he felt his already tight pants getting tighter as he grinned and pulled the spoon away.
Luke took a scoop for himself and put the spoon in his own mouth, sucking everything off while staring directly at you. there was something so oddly erotic about it.
you felt your skin flush as you looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes anymore.
you reached for your spoon but Luke grabbed it before you could, he made a tutting sound at you, “not a chance Princess.”
“seriously?” you asked, “you’re going to hand feed me this entire thing?”
“uh huh.”
Luke knew it wasn't a good idea. he knew you were already driving him wild. he knew that if he continued down this path... well, blue balls were not on Luke’s list of top favourite things. but he could see the way it was affecting you too, and he’d be damned if he gave up on the satisfaction of that.
-----
Luke leaned down and kissed the first girl as the second one finished signing the consent form. as she set down the pen, Luke turned to the second one, kissing her as well before ushering them out the door to where a guard would escort them off the property, he gave girl number one a final pat on the bum and a cheeky grin, ignoring his PR assistant’s disgusted face.
that’s when his phone rang. Luke padded down the marble hallway, answering the call, “sup?”
“have you seen the magazines?”
“no Ash, i just woke up.” Luke said, yawning loudly and putting his phone on speaker so he could hear better.
“you’re all over the cover.” Ashton stated, “you and Y/N. I didn’t know the two of you were seeing each other.”
Luke stopped walking, turning to look at his PR assistant who was following him like a puppy. in that moment, Luke could honestly not remember whether or not he was allowed to tell his friends.
the PR Assistant began to shake his head but Luke said: “yeah. i went out with Y/N yesterday.”
“and you fed her dessert.” Ashton interjected, “please tell me she put out for you.”
Luke’s gaze went to his assistant who was shaking his head vigorously, “uhhh... no?”
“you don’t sound too certain bro, how drunk were you?” Ashton laughed.
“uhhh....” Luke focused on reading his assistants lips but sighed, “wasn’t drunk. it was just a date.”
“there’s a picture of you leaving the bathroom together, i gotta be honest, i never pegged Y/N for a public sex kind of girl.”
“she’s not.” Luke answered immediately and his assistant let out a sigh of relief, at least he got that response correct, “Look, Ash, it’s not a big deal.”
“well when are you bringing her out for boys night?”
Luke opened his mouth when his assistant started vigorously shaking his head and making an ‘X’ sign with his arms and Luke sighed, remembering the ‘no partying’ part of the contract, “there’s a lot going on right now.” he said as his assistant typed out something for him to read, Luke’s eyes scanned the words as he read them out loud “and i’m trying to focus on this new relationship, so I might not see you for a while.” Luke rolled his eyes at his assistant.
“pfff, lame, are you bringing her to the gala next month?”
Luke’s assistant nodded, “uh, yes.”
“cool, see you there mate. great job.” the line went dead.
“Prince Luke, the nature of this relationship being PR can only be known to those signing a contract but due to the nature of Prince Ashton’s place in society i find it unadvisable to tell him or anyone else of his stature due to the fact that a breach of contract lawsuit will mean nothing to another royal family if they choose to expose the relationship as PR to ruin your reputation.”
“it’s too early for so many big words.” Luke groaned, “i’m going back to sleep.”
“you have a date with Princess L/N in an hour.” his assistant called.
“of course i do, better wash the smell of pussy from my breath eh?” he grinned at his assistant who scowled, “something tells me Y/N would hate that.”
____
The dates continued two to four times a week as contractually stated. Mostly at five star restaurants or with the two of you going for walks in public places, flanked by body guards.
after your brutal analysis of him, Luke stayed away from sexual topics. opting to hold his tongue as best he could.
You brought up political topics and part of Luke assumed that perhaps you had been told to do so, to get him ready to converse with other educated people about such topics.
Between you, the PR briefings and the royal briefings Luke found himself with not much time on his hands. He missed partying. He missed drinking until he was numb. but most importantly, he missed the girls.
or, parts of him did. but after the first two weeks of girls signing a consent form, the idea of it had left a sour taste in his mouth.
especially when the girls brought you up in conversation. Delphi, one of his favourite usual shags had been curled against his chest in a post sex daze when she asked “does Princess Y/N know about this?”
his heart had lurched at the sound of her name and his jaw had set as he stood, putting on his robe and going to grab himself a shot before leaning against one of the bed posts, “get dressed.” he’d commanded.
“Luke, i’m sorry if-”
“Prince Luke.” he reminded her, “and I don’t want to hear it. you already signed the consent form last time you were here and you know your way out.”
he’d gone onto the terrace without another word, swirling the whiskey in his glass.
he didn’t know why it upset him so much.
maybe it was because he’d never really had a girlfriend before, fake or otherwise. it had been two weeks and he’d spent a lot of his time with you. whether he considered you a friend or not, part of him cared about you in a way he’d never really experienced.
it made his grip on the terrace railing tighten as his jaw clenched. you had power over him. and he didn’t like it one bit.
------
Luke tried not to pay much attention to the feeling of your small hand wrapped around his arm while the two of you looked at fabric. he was bored out of his mind, yes he liked fashion but usually his tailors would just send him a bunch of clothes every month and he’d wear what he felt like.
but there he was, shopping with you. he didn’t get why you didn’t just do the same thing he did... but the smile on your face as you ran a hand through the fabrics, looking at everything, he guessed you just enjoyed shopping.
you pulled out a dress, removing your hand from his arm which suddenly felt cold from lack of contact, “what do you think?” you asked, showing it to him.
“it’s nice.” he stated.
“you’ve said that about the past four.” you sighed, handing the dress to the worker that hurried over to add it to your change room.
“they were all fine, gotta see what they look on your hot little bod.” he smirked.
you rolled your eyes, walking over to the change room with him trailing behind you. he leaned against the wall while you entered the changing room. his foot tapped while he waited as he began fiddling with his rings.
the door opened and he looked up, eyes eating up every inch of your body. the dress was stunning. it looked like it had been made for you.
“i need help with the zipper.” you said, turning to show him your exposed back as your hands held up the dress in the front.
he almost stumbled as he approached, flexing his fingers as they went down to the bottom of the zipper. he began to zip it up but your hair was in the way.
his fingers brushed against your skin lightly as he pushed the hair over your shoulder, his hot breath on the new exposed skin. he zipped up the dress and took his hands away, eyes looking up to meet yours through the mirror in front of you.
his heart leaped in his chest, having not realized you’d been watching him.
the tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife, his eyes devouring you through the mirror.
“what do you think of the colour?” you asked, fingers skimming over the green material.
“looks-” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “looks good.”
“i’m going to wear this gala next week, with a few alterations. is that okay?”
“sure.”
his eyes looked down and you knew he was checking out your ass so you immediately turned around, misjudging how close the tall blonde was standing next to you. your chest bumped against his and you took a hesitant step back, wobbling on your heals as his hands immediately went to your waist to steady you.
you looked up at him and he opened his mouth but you cut him off, “stop.”
“stop what?” he asked.
eye brows furrowing slightly and you marvelled at how beautiful he was. a slight brush of glitter across one of his cheekbones, those crystal blue eyes, and one rogue strand of curly golden hair.
it would have been the easiest thing in the world to close the distance and just kiss him. your breath caught in your throat and you licked at your lips, considering it for a moment.
his eyes looked down at your lips and it snapped you from your daze as you realized you weren’t the only one considering it.
you had to forcibly step back, pulling away from his hands, “just... unzip me please.” you said, turning around again and looking down, “and no funny business.”
“wouldn’t fucking dream of it.” he grumbled after an exasperated breath, zipping your dress down with one hand then turning and leaving the change room and closing the door behind him.
---
the week passed and you spent each date trying to ignore him the best you could. but he made it very difficult. you touched him only when necessary, when the photographers were around. you kept the conversations short, brief, and about non-sex related topics, which was not easy, but anytime the conversation started going that way you would redirect it.
Luke waited outside your hotel in the limo that would take you to the ball. the limo door opened and you got in across from him, eyes scanning over his outfit as the driver closed the door behind you.
“you got a shirt to match my dress.” you breathed, noticing the beautiful silky green fabric that fit perfectly over his shoulders.
“oh. yeah.” he said, looking down at himself, “that’s a thing people do right?”
“yeah. it is.” you found yourself smiling. really smiling at him.
and he noticed. because you smiled different when you were actually happy. he had thought your fake smile was gorgeous but looking at you in that moment he realized he hadn’t seen anything truly gorgeous until that moment.
“you look good.” you continued, “but... i think you’re missing one thing.”
“and what’s that darling?” he asked.
you opened your purse, pulling out a makeup palette and a brush, “a little bit of glitter. i figured your mom would not allow it but... it looks good on you, so i thought i’d bring highlighter in case you wanted some.”
Luke’s eyes searched your face, the way you were appearing so shy. the way you’d actually listened when he’d groaned about the sanctions on his wardrobe the week before.
“sure.” he said, moving slightly so you could come sit next to him.
you took the smallest amount of glitter and brushed it across his cheek, eyes focused on your work while he stared into yours, appreciating the colour.
his eyes moved to your lips. he often found himself staring at them. how soft and plump they looked.
if you were anyone else, he would pull you on top of him and have his way with you. he thought about the sounds you’d make as he slipped your panties to the side and teased-
“done.” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat across from him, “there, now you look perfect.”
Luke opened his mouth but the limo door opened, you’d arrived at the ball.
---
you’d been attached to his hip all night. his hand on the small of your back as you greeted all your peers. you kept his drinking to a minimum and oddly enough, he hadn’t minded.
you answered all of the hard questioned and smoothly navigated your way through all sorts of tough discussions on politics, deflecting any negative questions about Luke’s ‘social life.’
Luke found himself watching you effortlessly converse with other royals, how graceful you seemed. but he was getting sort of bored. “Darling, i’m going to grab a drink, want anything?” he asked.
you looked up at him, “maybe a glass of wine.”
“okay.”
you watched him leave before turning back to the people you were talking too but a new group of people were approaching you. you recognized the gang, three of Luke’s friends. among the Royal Bunnies (the girls who made it their mission in life to sleep with royals) this group was called the Pussy Parade.
Calum Hood, Michael Clifford and Ashton Irwin.
“Princess Y/N,” Ashton said, holding out a hand, “pleasure to see you again.”
“where’d Luke run off to?” Calum asked.
“yeah, i wouldn’t leave you alone for a minute if i were him.” Michael piped in.
“matching outfits, quite a statement though.” Ashton pointed out.
you laughed at their eagerness, “nice to see you all again.” you’d met them all once or twice at different royal events but never really talked to any of them.
Luke watched from where he was leaning on the bar, jaw clenching as he tapped his ring clad fingers against the table, “can you hurry?” he snapped at the bar tender, throwing a bill on the counter in the hopes it would light a flame under the mans ass.
his eyes went back to you, surrounded by sharks. his sharks, but sharks none the less.
he hated the way they were all looking you up and down. looking at you like a piece of meat. looking at you like... like he did.
his teeth gritted, “also a shot.” he ordered, throwing another bill on the table.
the shot was placed in front of him and he downed it before grabbing the wine glasses and walking over to where you were standing. “here you go darling.” he said, handing you one.
his free hand immediately went to the small of your back again and you took a sip, eyes widening, “this is the wine from our first date.” you grinned up at him, “you remembered.”
he smiled down at you, a genuine smile that made all of his friends jaws drop, “of course i remembered.”
four sets of eyes widen at this statement. “you can’t even remember my birthday!” Ashton gasped.
Luke rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his wine and shrugging, “you always remind me the week before.”
“he’s got you there bud.” Calum grinned.
“so... how did you two meet?” Michael interrupted.
now was the hard part. Luke wasn’t a fan of lying to his friends but he knew he had to sell this relationship, his hand slipped from the small of your back to your waist, pulling you closer, “i saw her around, thought she was cute, slid into those DM’s, the usual.”
“very romantic.” Calum teased.
you turned your body in towards Luke, tucking your own arm around his waist. in this position, your bodies fit so perfectly and that fact was not lost on you as you stared down his friends, “it was a nice first date.” you insisted.
“yeah, looked like it.” Michael scoffed, “we saw the bathroom pictures.”
you opened your mouth but Luke spoke first, “piss off Michael.”
his strong language drew the attention of the people surrounding your group. “woah, didn’t mean any offence.” Michael said, raising his hands in defence, “just looked like a good time is all i’m saying.”
“this is my girlfriend, watch it.” Luke said, voice lowered as he looked down at Michael. you were once again reminded how big Luke was. his friends were all six foot, at least, but he was still taller. and he was intimidating.
and... he’d called you his girlfriend. which... you were, it even said that ‘girlfriend’ was the preferable term to use when he talked about you, but hearing him actually say it was different. it had been a month and he hadn’t once called you his girlfriend.
“Luke, i think we should take a breather.” you suggested, rubbing your hand up and down his back in an effort to sooth him.
Luke looked down at you then at his friends, slamming the wine and handing the glass to Calum who took it without asking questions as Luke pulled away from you, grabbing your hand and leading you through the crowd outside to one of the terraces.
it was just you and Luke, the air providing a slight but comfortable chill, not yet warm enough to signify the impending summer, but a welcome relief from the temperature inside. “are you okay?” you asked as he let go of your hand and went to lean against the railing, looking out at the city.
you’d been dating a month and part of you would call him a friend but it’s not like the two of you were close and yet something made you approach the tall boy. you began to rub at his tense shoulders, hoping to ease some of the stress.
“they think you’re just a fuck.” he stated, knuckles turning white as he gripped the rail.
“it doesn’t matter what your friends think.” you stated, “in a few months this will be over and you can go back to being leader of the Pussy Party and they won’t even remember this whole thing.”
he remained silent but you felt his muscles tense underneath your hand.
you sighed, “do you want to leave?”
“no.”
“do you want to be alone?”
“no.”
“Luke, can you look at me?”
he remained still for a moment before turning his body to look down at you.
“do you want my wine?” you asked.
he laughed slightly, taking it from your hand and downing it just like the wine he’d drank earlier. before you could tell him to slow down on the alcohol he simply tossed the glass off the terrace, grabbing your face between his hands as he pressed his lips to yours.
he tasted like wine but it intoxicated you as you melted into the kiss, hands going up to wrap around his shoulders. his tongue teased your bottom lip and one of his hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer.
your fingers tangled in his hair, something you hadn’t consciously realized you’d wanted to ever do. the curls were soft and you pulled on them slightly, earning a soft groan that you ate up like you were starving. you’d thought his low voice was sexy but those moans were next level.
his teeth sunk into your bottom lip and now it was your turn to moan. the small sound made his heart jump as he let out a breathy “fuck.” his hand moving from your face to your neck where the cold of the rings pressed against your skin. you grabbed at his wrist, not stopping him,
but you pulled away, collecting your breath as you looked down, his heavy panting on your forehead as he struggled to steady his own breathing.
you focused on his green silk shirt. the way he always knew just the perfect amount of buttons to leave open, you wondered what his chest would look like fully exposed and on show for you. your fingers played with the fabric just above his belt, teasing the sensitive skin just above the band. he swore again and you pressed your face into his shirt as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you against his chest.
his skin was warm and he smelt like expensive cologne.
you both just stood there for a few moments, the sound of your facing heart drowning out the noise of the city bellow. you could feel his own pulse fluttering in his chest.
“shit.” a voice made you pull away from Luke as you both turned to see Calum standing at the doorway to the terrace, “I uhhh... didn’t mean to interrupt, just needed a smoke.” he waved the cigarette as proof.
“it’s fine.” you smiled, fixing your dress and hair, “i should go inside-”
“i’m going to stay out here.” Luke stated, voice deadpan.
you didn’t look at Luke, afraid what you would see in his eyes if you did, so you brushed past Calum and went inside. Calum watched you go before stepping further onto the terrace, lighting his cigarette and taking a large puff, “wasn’t sure if it was real or not.” he breathed, the smoke disappearing into the air as he handed Luke the cigarette.
Luke brought it to his lips, taking a long drag, “if whats real?”
“you and Y/N.” Calum answered, “i mean she’s cute but we both know you don’t do commitment.”
Luke couldn't argue with that. he couldn’t think much about anything as he stood there next to Calum, sharing the cigarette.
maybe it was because you were a challenge. yeah, that had to be it. it had to be. he wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. yeah. that was it.
he’d just have to fuck you. then he’d be fine. that was a good plan.
Calum finished the cigarette and threw it off the terrace then they both went back inside. you were at the bar with Ashton and Michael and once again Luke felt a surge of anger flow through his body.
his hand went to the small of your back, “i think i’m ready to leave darling.”
you nodded, telling the boys it was nice to see them again before you allowed Luke to lead you to the elevator. he leaned against the wall and you were both silent until you reached the first floor. you stayed silent the entire limo ride, until it stopped in front of your hotel. and then you were gone and Luke remained numb because it was easier than acknowledging the feelings and the thoughts.
----
it had been four days since the gala and Luke hadn’t seen you. things kept popping up in your schedule which was understandable. but he needed to see you.
he was already dressed when his PR assistant knocked on his door, “Y/N canceled.”
“like fuck she did.” Luke muttered, pushing past the assistant.
it was a short walk to your hotel and Luke realized he didn’t have a plan on what to do once he got there. but Luke had always been lucky and he showed up as you were leaving. “you canceled our plans to go do something else?” he asked, voice making you stop just outside your limo.
“i have something to do-” you began.
“cool, i’ll come with.” he said, brushing past you as he got into the limo. you sighed and followed, “are you mad?” he asked.
you were taken aback by his question. part of you had assumed he wouldn’t want to talk about the gala. you guessed he’d be one of those guys who avoided confrontation and refused to communicate. but there he was, blue eyes on yours.
“i’m not mad.” you assured him, “just busy, as i said, are you mad?”
“no.” he said, looking down and fiddling with his rings.
“do you want to talk about it?” you asked.
“not really.”
there was the Prince you knew. you stayed silent the remainder of the limo ride until you arrived at the house, Luke looked around as you exited the limo, “where are we?”
“my cousins baby turned one year old today, i forgot about it if i’m being honest, a year goes by so fast.” you explained as the limo handed you the big pink present from the trunk of the limo.
“we’re at a babies birthday?” Luke asked.
“yeah, you like children right?” you grinned, walking past him towards the house.
there were children everywhere.
Luke stayed glued to your side, letting you do most of the talking like he had at the Gala. but he also introduced himself to the guests which is when he realized, ‘im meeting her cousin. and her aunt. and her uncle.’
he’d never met a girls family before.
you hadn’t asked him to come.
another realization that made his chest ache. what would he have done if you had? he probably would have bailed.
but there was that genuine smile again. the one he was already starting to adore. you were next to your cousin, holding the baby in your arms.
she tugged at your hair and you beamed down at the baby.
Luke found himself getting jealous of the baby who had all of your attention and all of your smiles.
and his chest continued to hurt but he didn’t know why.
your cousins husband approached, leaning next to Luke, “are you two thinking about kids?’ he asked.
Luke choked on his water, sputtering and coughing while your cousins husband patted him on the back until he could breath again, “um, we haven’t been dating long.” he answered.
“oh, sorry, i didn’t realize, i just assumed because well, you’re here and Y/N has never brought a guy to a family event like this. not that guys havent offered to come, we all know they have, but Y/N can be kind of private.”
Luke’s eyes went back to you holding the baby and he winced. now he was thinking about having a baby with you?!
this had been a wild month for Luke, even by his standards. he was confused, and tired and maybe he had a brain tumour or something because if someone had told him two months earlier that he’d be fake dating a girl who is actually super chill and has a beautiful smile and is considering having babies with her he would have said they were fucking crazy. and yet there he was.
you made a particularly cute face at the baby and all the tension Luke had been holding in his shoulders released as he smiled, “babies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” he muttered. and it was true.
he set down his water and approached you and your cousin, “um... do you mind if i hold her?” he asked.
your cousin smiled, “of course!”
you eyed Luke but slowly handed over the baby and he looked down at her with a grin. the baby reached up, wrapping a hand in one of his golden curls and tugging but Luke allowed her to do so.
he even laughed, an angelic sound that warmed your heart as you watched him. you’d never seen him so vulnerable. no walls up. no sassy or sexual remarks. just a beautiful boy holding an adorable baby.
your heart swelled in your chest and your eyes widened with realization that you probably had baby fever so you couldn’t be trusting yourself, but at the same time he looked so soft.
the baby grabbed at his finger, his chipping black nail polish contrasting the tiny baby hands.
“okay, i’ll give her back now.” he said, moving to hand the baby back to your cousin but the baby began to cry and Luke immediately began cooing, “oh no Sweetheart it’s okay, it’s okay baby,” as he rocked her back and forth.
she settled immediately and your cousin laughed, “looks like you’re a natural Luke.”
a blush crept over his skin and you watched in shock as he grinned at your cousin, “you think?”
this couldn’t be real. this couldn’t be the guy known for raunchy sex parties and having a different woman every night. it couldn’t be.
but it was.
he cooed the baby for a while until she fell asleep before he could give her back to her mama. by the time the baby was back in her mama’s arms you had been internally freaking out for thirty minutes about the absolute cuteness of the whole thing and how confused you were.
you grabbed his hand and took him to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind you, “what’s going on?” he asked.
“we kissed.” you stated, “and i’m really confused about it.”
“me too.” he said, looking at you very seriously.
you almost laughed, “okay good i’m not the only one. so... what do you want from me?” you asked.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean, we are on this contract for the next few months and if something goes wrong and we hate each other-”
“wouldn’t happen.”
“it could happen-”
“no.”
“and what makes you sure?”
“i couldn’t hate you.” he says, crossing his arms and leaning back against the sink counter.
“well i could hate you.” you pointed out, “if we make this thing real and you cheat-”
“if we made this real i wouldn’t cheat.”
“just like that.” you asked in shock.
“yeah.”
you looked up at him, considering it, but you groaned, “fuck!” you began pacing in front of him, “being around babies always makes me too soft! i can’t think clearly!” Luke watched you pace and he had to admit he knew the feeling.
“then don’t.” he said, hands grabbing your waist and stopping you from pacing as he leaned down and his lips met yours. you were so distracted by kissing him back, fingers going into his hair, that you hadn’t noticed he’d moved you until he lifted you and set you on the sink counter.
standing between your legs he pulled your body flush against his, his lips moving from your lips to your neck as he sucked on the sensitive skin just below your ear.
you let out a moan and Luke grinned against your skin, “open your mouth.” he stated.
you followed his request as two of his fingers slipped into your mouth, he continued sucking on your neck while you began to suck on his fingers. one of the fingers in your mouth had his legacy ring and your tongue slipped around the cold metal, swirling and sucking it up and over Luke’s knuckle before pushing it down again.
“fuck, where’d a Princess like you learn how to use your mouth like that?” he groaned into your ear, slipping his fingers from your mouth.
his hands went to your hips as he pressed against you, you could feel him through his pants and you grinned, “can’t tell you all of my secrets can I?” you teased.
he grinned, pressing his lips against yours again. “fuck, you’re so hot.” he breathed.
“hmm, you like this?” you asked, reaching between the two of you to grab his dick through his pants as you bit down on his lip.
Luke’s fingers dug into your hips, “Fuck yeah.” he breathed.
“what do you want to do to me?” you asked, rubbing him harder as his head lolled back and his eyes closed.
“pump a fucking baby into you.” he stated.
you stopped your motions and his eyes snapped open, “fuck, I uh, i can explain-”
there was a loud knocking on the door, “almost done in there?!”
you pushed Luke away from you, fixing your clothes and hopping off the counter, “just a second!” you called, looking in the mirror to see if you looked okay. you turned to Luke, “we will talk about this later.” you stated before you unlocked the door and went out, Luke following a few seconds later.
“hey, i really gotta get out of here.” Luke stated, “being around all these children is messing with my head.”
“okay, that’s fine, i’ll see you in two days for our Sunday date-”
“come by for dinner.” he stated, “at the palace. i mean, i can’t cook for shit but i have a world class chef-”
“i’ll be there.”
“okay.” he smiled. you turned to go but he grabbed your arm, pulling you into a soft kiss. when he pulled away he smiled, “i’ll see you tonight.”
as soon as he was in the limo Luke swore, punching at the seat. had he seriously just asked you to be ‘exclusive’? had he seriously just promised not to cheat on you?
he began to naw at his lip, it all fairness, he hadn’t slept with another girl in a couple of weeks. the thought of even sleeping with someone else made him feel dirty and Luke had been in plenty dirty situations in his life, many of them self created.
and you were coming over for dinner at his place. he swore again. you hadn’t said yes or no to the whole dating thing and Luke had a few hours to sort himself out.
he rubbed at his temples, still considering that perhaps he just needed to fuck you and then the feelings would go away. well, he’d give that a try and see where it took him.
----
you expected a servant to open the door so when Luke opened it, standing there in that green shirt, you were a bit taken aback. he still looked amazing in it as he pulled you in for a hug. “so this is the palace.” he said, opening the door wider for you to come in.
you’d started the contract around a month ago but all the dates were high profile for publicity so you’d never actually seen where he lived.
he showed you the main rooms and the tour ended in his large bedroom. bedroom wouldn’t even be the word most people would use to describe it. it was practically a studio apartment minus the kitchen.
there was a small dinner table set up with silver platters covering the food. “so how was the rest of the birthday?” Luke asked as you both sat down.
“fine. i left after you did. babies always give me baby fever.” you admitted.
Luke laughed, “me too. that was sort of wild.”
“yeah, i would have never guessed you’d like children.”
“why? because im a quote: pompous, mamas boy?” he teased.
“you forgot arrogant.”
“right, how could i ever forget arrogant?” he rolled his eyes at you.
“so what was the whole ‘pump a baby into you’ thing?” you asked.
“uhh... i don’t know.” he answered, “why, did you like it? would you be down for that?”
you laughed awkwardly, “Luke, these are the kind of questions you ask a real girlfriend.”
“don’t friends talk about this sort of thing?” he asked, “i mean, haven’t you talked to your girlfriends about this?”
“yeah but i mean... are we even friends?”
“earlier today i said you could be my girlfriend if you wanted so yeah, i’d consider us friends. also, you never really gave me an answer on that and it sort of hurts a guys feelings you know.”
“i am your girlfriend.”
Luke rolled his eyes, “you know what i mean.”
you sighed, “i just don’t want things to get messy-”
“oh, you don’t like messy?” he asked.
“not really.” you answered.
all of the sudden he was on his feet, pushing the entire table to the ground while you let out a yelp of shock, jumping to your feet as the table and the food landed on the floor, “Lu-” you began to say but his lips were on yours.
as you relaxed he pulled away, bending down and grabbing you, tossing you onto his shoulder, “oh my god you’re such a Neanderthal!” you screamed, wiggling around in his grip.
then you were falling, landing on plush fur, Luke grabbed your feet and dragged you to the edge of the bed, getting on top of you as his lips attached to yours. he ground his body down against you and you groaned, legs wrapping around his waist.
your fingers tangled into his curls before they moved to the buttons of his shirt, “fuck, this is such a nice shirt.” you groaned.
“knew you’d love it.” he grinned, helping you pull it off his body.
he went back in to kiss you but you stopped him and he pulled away, looking down at you with an odd look, “is this too fast?” he asked, shocked that those words were leaving his lips.
“no, i just want to appreciate you.” you said, fingers tracing his broad chest, “you’ve been teasing me with those button downs exposing just the right amount of chest all month.”
he grinned down at you, running a hand through his messy curls, “you almost done looking Princess?”
“five more seconds.” you smiled up at him.
he laughed but humoured you, waiting for you to finish looking at him, “okay, my turn.” you said, tearing off your shirt and bra as his lips attached to your chest.
his kisses went down your body and he worked on getting your jeans off until they joined the clothes on the ground. his hands went to your hips as his fingers slipped under the waist band of your panties, “are you okay with this?” he asked.
“i thought you were some big sex god, you going to devour me or what?” you laughed, running your fingers through your hair as you laughed.
“i am a sex god, but i like you and i want to make sure you want this as much as i do.” he grinned.
you looked down as he toyed with the last thing between him and you.
“i want this.” you stated.
“hmmm, you don’t sound like you want this darling.” he said, removing his hands.
“no, wait, Luke, please.” you whined, “please.”
his hands returned to your hips, fingers drawing circles on the sensitive skin, “you sure baby?”
“yeah, i’m sure.”
“you’ve never begged a day in your life, have you sweetheart?” he laughed, looking up at you.
this fuck.
but there was truth in it. maybe you’d misjudged him on your first date. “Luke, i’m sorry if i’ve been a bitch, i’m sorry if i judged you at first and thought you were some sex crazed asshole, i’m sorry-”
there was a tearing sound as he ripped your panties in two and you stopped talking, looking down at him in shock. you were about to say something when he buried his face between your thighs. your fingers tingled in his curls and you moaned at the feeling of his tongue working absolute magic.
“oh my god.” you moaned.
“i prefer Sire.” he said, flashing you the cockiest grin you’d ever seen.
“i am not calling you sire.” you groaned as his lips attached to you once more.
one of his hands moved from your hip and up to your face and you opened your mouth, accepting the two digits past your lips as you sucked on them. the silver ring in your mouth was driving you wild.
“suck it off babe.” he instructed.
you did as he asked, pulling the ring off as he slipped his fingers from your mouth, the ring caught between your teeth. you took it from your mouth and slipped it onto one of your own fingers.
his fingers that had been in your mouth curled into you and you moaned loudly, pulling at Luke’s hair as he laughed, “you like that kitten?”
“fuck, yes Luke.”
his fingers stopped, “yes what?”
“yes sir.”
“close but not what i’m looking for babe.” his fingers moved slightly and you moaned.
“yes sire, i love it.”
he grinned, lips attaching to your clit as he pumped his fingers at an unbelievably fast pace, sending your spiralling over the edge as you grabbed the fur blanket, letting out the most sinful noises you’d ever heard in your life as he worked you through your orgasm.
as you came down from your high Luke pulled back, standing up and putting his two fingers in his mouth, “fuck, you even taste pretty babe.”
“please just fuck me.” you begged, unable to say much else as he pushed down his pants and got on top of you, “wait, condoms.”
“you sure you want condoms?”
“Luke!” you laughed, pushing at his chest.
he sighed and moved to his bedside table, pulling out a condom and rolling it on, “you’re no fun.”
your legs wrapped around his waist again as he teased your entrance before pushing in fully. you both groaned at the feeling, his lips attacking yours again as he began to pound into you.
“fuck princess you’re so tight.” he groaned, one of his hands wrapping around your throat as you let out a loud moan, your hands going to grab his wrist, keeping his hand pressed against your skin.
he usually didn’t do missionary. it was too personal. but this just felt right. there was something about it that he couldn’t explain. his lips found yours and you moaned into his mouth.
“if you keep making sounds like that i’m not going to last too long baby.” he groaned, lips going to your neck.
“me neither.” you said, grabbing his ear lobe between your teeth.
his grip on your throat tightened and you moaned louder, the sounds driving him insane and throwing him over the edge. his quickened pace made you cum as well and you both gripped onto each other like your lives depended on it.
he slowed down and you both breathed heavily as he stayed inside of you for a moment, kissing you sweetly on the lips before pulling out and discarding the condom before falling back onto the bed with you and pulling you to his chest.
“wow.” you breathed.
he laughed, “yeah.”
you both stayed there, enjoying each others warmth as you came down from the post sex high. “you ruined the food.” you stated finally.
he laughed, “i’ll order pizza.”
“woah, since when does Prince Luke eat pizza like some commoner?” you giggled.
he grinned, “you’re right, i should get the chef to make lobster-”
“i’m joking Luke. Pizza sounds great.” you curled up in the blankets and by the time the pizza arrived at the door you were asleep. Luke looked at you, curled up in the middle of the bed like such a Princess. that was his spot. this was the reason he never let girls sleep over.
part of him wanted to tell you to hit the road, after all, your hotel was a five minute walk away. but something stopped him and he let out a sigh of exasperation as he found a smoke and went onto the terrace, closing the door as to not wake you.
he’d been standing in this very spot a few weeks earlier, angry about the entire situation. angry about your power over him. and yet, here he was again, letting you sleep on his bed in his spot.
the sex had been... like nothing he’d ever had before. which was odd, because Luke had thought he’d tried just about everything in the book. but not that. not with someone he actually cared for.
he took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. he’d assumed this whole fake dating thing would last a few months and he could go back to partying, not giving the whole thing much thought.
but in a few months... he’d be king.
he realized, he’d never be able to go back.
the thought terrified him.
----
Luke buried his face in his pillow, reaching out instinctively but he only grasped air. his eyes opened and he realized he was alone. part of him wondered if it had been a dream but the torn panties and table mess he’d made the night before were still littered on the ground.
and you weren’t there.
it hurt in an odd way. he’d expected you to be there, even half asleep, you’d been his first thought, his first goal of the day.
he groaned and pulled out his phone.
----
Ashton sat in a floaty, Cal with his feet in the water and Michael in the shade as Luke paced back and forth. “when we started dating I didn’t expect to fall in love with her.” Luke explained, “is that even what this is?”
he looked at his friends who all laughed, “don’t look at me mate.” Cal grinned, “you know i think love is fake.”
“Ash?” Luke asked, turning to the eldest.
Ashton shrugged as he sipped his cocktail, “you’ve only been dating a month bud, seems fast to me.”
“also you’ve never had a relationship,” Michael pointed out, “so maybe you’re just in a honey moon phase.”
Luke flailed himself onto a floaty, running his fingers through his hair “this is such a mess!”
“when are you seeing her next?” Cal asked.
“i have no idea! last night wasn’t supposed to happen, the contract-”
“contract?!” Michael interrupted.
“fuck.” Luke cursed himself.
Ashton set down his drink, “you have a lot of explaining to do Hemmings.”
------
You had spent the past two days locked in your room, your phone off as you tried to sort out what had happened. it had been two days since you left before Luke could wake up. two days since he’d literally fucked his way into your heart.
you’d hoped the whole thing had been baby fever but that would have worn off by now and you were starting to worry that something more serious was at play.
could you really like Luke Hemmings? of all the possible princes you could fall for, and you had to fall for the playboy asshole who snapped his fingers at waiters?!
you had no idea what he was feeling about it either because you hadn’t talked to him. he’d suggested being your real boyfriend at the party but its not like that conversation ever got fully explored so who even knew? not you, that’s for sure.
taking a deep breath you turned on your phone, ignoring everything and calling a friend. you’d be damned if you let this whole thing get to your head.
your friend answered on the first ring “Y/N i’ve been trying to get a hold of you for ages! you think your Prince can give you up for the night so you can come party?”
you laughed at the term ‘your prince’ and sighed, “you know what, yeah, i’ll come out.”
-----
Luke’s knee bobbed up and down and his friends stared at him, “it’s bullshit that she doesn’t have a no partying section in her contract and I can’t believe she’d go out and not even answer my texts first.” Luke groaned.
“well she’s not technically your girlfriend-” Michael pointed out but Ashton punched his shoulder lightly.
“she’s probably just freaked out. like you are.” Ashton said, smiling warmly at his friend.
“and you can confront her yourself.” Cal pointed out as the limo pulled up in front of the club.
Luke took a deep breath, running a hand through his unruly curls, “how do i look?”
“you’re a fucking panty dropper mate. don’t worry.” Ashton said before the door opened and they all climbed out.
flashes started immediately and a few people screamed “Pussy Party!” which made Michael grin and scream “Pussy Party!” with the crowd as they were escorted through the VIP door.
Luke looked around the club. he’d missed the flashing lights and the feel of bass in his chest. as soon as they entered girls began approaching. Ashton grabbed two blondes right away and Michael likewise broke off from the pack with two girls.
Cal is the only one who stayed, hand on Luke’s shoulder as they both looked around. “there.” Cal said, pointing towards the bar.
the last time Luke had seen you, you’d been sprawled out on his bed, your naked body only slightly covered by his fur blanket.
and there you were, in yet another stunning dress, a drink in your hand as you talked to a few people. Luke immediately recognized one of them by his dark curly hair and cheeky grin.
Luke’s fists clenched at his sides and he took a step forward but Cal grabbed his arm, “you can’t just go in there guns blazing mate.”
“like fuck i can’t.” Luke said, pulling away from Cal and barreling towards you. a few girls tried to get in his way but he pushed past them.
Prince Harry saw Luke’s approach and smiled “hey Luke!” he grinned.
you froze as you felt Luke come to stand directly next to you, his hand going to the small of your back, “Harry.” he greeted before turning to you. you looked up at him hesitantly, “long time no see, babe.”
“yeah, um... haven’t been feeling well.” you answered.
“your phone’s been off.” Luke stated.
you sighed at his possessiveness, “how did you know i’d be here Luke?”
“the paps saw you come in.” he answered, “people were wondering why i wasn’t with you so my mentions blew up.”
“come to think of it, why didn’t you two arrive together?” Harry interjected, leaning on the bar and looking at the two of you with furrowed brows, “you’d be daft to leave a stunner like Y/N alone.”
Luke’s jaw feathered and you noticed immediately, recognizing his anger radiating off of him like it had at the Gala, and on that night you’d been talking to a friend of his, not a rival. this was not going to end well for anyone.
you felt the pull of your contractual duty as you set down your drink and wrapped your arms around Luke’s waist, leaning against his side before smiling sweetly at Harry, “i’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can get jealous sometimes.”
Luke kept his mouth shut as he glared down at Harry.
one of your hands pressed against his chest and you looked up at him, and finally he looked down at you. he could feel the anger still coursing through his veins.
you were his.
his arm went over your shoulders, “excuse us.” he said to Harry, voice a growl as he began leading you through the crowd.
“where are we going?” you asked.
he didn’t answer as he pushed you in front of him and into one of the lavish, VIP club bathrooms, closing the door and locking it.
the last time you’d been in a bathroom he had been a soft boy but standing in front of you now was a very angry, sexy, man.
his shoulders heaved as he looked down at you, taking a step forward as you stepped back until your back hit the wall. his hand came to rest next to your head as he leaned down to be eye level with you.
“you like seeing me jealous?” he asked, voice searing into you, “you like flirting with other men while you’re dating me?”
“i wasn't-” you began but then you realized, “this whole thing is PR-”
“not to me.” he growled, pressing his lips against yours.
you wanted to be mad but the whole situation was making your heart race. you were friends with Harry, nothing more. you hadn’t meant to make Luke jealous but you had to admit, jealous Luke was a panty dropper.
your fingers went up into his curls as he bent down lifting you up and wrapping your legs around your waist as he pressed you back against the wall. your fingers danced over his shoulders as he bit down at your bottom lip.
having your legs wrapped around his waist had pushed your dress up and you could feel him through the thin fabric of your panties as you groaned into his mouth.
“Luke.” you whimpered as his mouth moved to your neck, teeth grazing your skin. he sucked on the area for a few moments, fingers digging into your thighs as he held you up.
he finally pulled away from your neck and moved to set you down on the sink counter, his hands going to his belt as he undid it. your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, finally getting the button down open so your fingers could roam his chest, exploring the ridges of his abdomen and the beautiful V-line disappearing into his pants.
when his belt was undone he stopped, kissing you again as he reached between your bodies and once again tore your panties in half to get them off of you, “you have to stop doing that.” you laughed against his lips.
“i’ll buy you new ones.” he promised, nipping at your lower lip as your arms encircled his shoulders. his hand reached into his back pocket and he pulled out a condom.
you expected him to fuck you like that but he pulled you down off the sink, forcing you to turn so your back was to him as his hand pushed you down over the sink, ass in the air. his eyes met yours through the mirror as he lined himself up with your entrance, hands steadying on your hips in a grip that you knew would leave marks.
he slammed into you and you moaned, moving to press your cheek against the counter but a hand wrapped in your hair, pulling your head up, “watch me while i fuck you.” he growled, eyes still on yours through the mirror.
“you’re mine.” he stated as he continued to pound into you mercilessly, “say it.”
his grip tightened on your hair, “I’m yours.” you repeated.
he let go of your hair, a hand coming down to smack your bum, “Louder.”
“I’m yours Luke.” you whined, moaning as he hit a new spot inside of you.
this answer seemed to satisfy him as his head tipped down to look at where he was entering you, both hands returning to your hips as he continued to pound in and out.
“up.” he instructed.
you pushed yourself up a bit and his hand came around the front of your body to wrap around your throat, pulling you up flush against his chest but being taller than you wasn’t making the angle that easy. he swore under his breath, pulling out of you and easily man handling you to be sitting on the counter again as he easily slide back into you.
his lips captured yours as your legs went around his waist and one of his hands cupped your face. “mine.” he hissed against your lips.
“Luke i’m gonna-” you began but he cut you off with a kiss.
“me too.”
his other hand gripped your thigh as his pounding got faster, lips on yours as you both reached your highs, letting out sinful moaning and whimpering sounds as he stilled inside of you.
you both breathed heavily, foreheads touching as he stayed there for a few moments.
he pulled out of you and discarded the condom and your ruined panties, fixing his pants then lifting you off the counter and setting you down. he pulled your dress down, running a hand through your messy hair to fix it as he looked you over, not quite sure what to say to you, his gaze lingered on your neck where you knew there was a hickie forming.
“I... uh...” he struggled.
you looked up at the Prince, the guy who always knew what to say and yet here he was, tongue tied. “that was amazing.” you said, hoping it would help him find the right words and ease whatever conflicted emotions he was obviously feeling.
he laughed, removing his hand from where it had been cupping your face to do his buttons, “i knew it from the first day i met you, you’d like the kinky stuff.”
“Luke!” you laughed at the return of his cockiness as he did up his shirt, moving to smack his chest but his hand caught yours and he pulled you to his front, looking down at you with a grin.
“don’t play dumb kitten. we both know you’re a dirty girl.” his words made you let out a breath as you wondered if a round two was a possibility but knocking at the door interrupted your thoughts. someone was always interrupting you two.
Luke put his arm over your shoulders as the two of you exited the bathroom. “do you want to stay for a bit?’ you asked.
“not really.” he answered, looking down at you and laughing at the shock in your face, “i usually used to go clubbing for women but that’s not a good reason anymore.” he explained, leaning down to press his lips to yours.
you beamed up at your boyfriend. the two of you left the club, he shielded you from the paparazzi waiting outside as he held open the limo door for you before getting in himself, sitting next to you with his hand on your thigh.
“so we’re actually dating.” you stated.
he laughed, “yeah, who would have fucking thought?”
you pushed at him and he wrapped his arms around you, “either this is real or this is the worst case of baby fever ever.”
----
two months later it was announced that Luke Hemmings would be the next king. people were okay with it. everyone remembered the way Luke had been just months earlier but since he met you, everyone had seen the change.
it was something in his eyes. an emotion that no one had ever seen there before.
it was the way he always had to be touching you, or protecting you from cameras.
it was just the way he was with you.
preparations were made for his coronation. his parents set up to move to a palace in the country they’d always planned on going to after retirement. Luke was in meetings most days but he always arrived back at the palace to find you, adorned in a new set of lingerie he had bought for you. he had entered a new chapter of his life and it was obvious to everyone around.
he no longer snapped his fingers at servants and everyone who worked on the grounds noted the change.
the coronation was a big deal and Luke was worried about the whole situation but throughout the ceremony, if he ever felt lost or scared, his eyes would just find yours as you’d offer an encouraging smile.
when the festivities had ended and everyone went home, you and Luke finally had the palace to yourselves. he’d sent all the servants home to celebrate. the only sound in the entire palace was the sound of you laughing as Luke chased you around the long hallways, ready to ‘christen’ every room with your love.
it was wild, as you ran through the palace, chased by the boy you loved, to think that he was king.
you ran to the bedroom and expected him to chase you. when you jumped into the bed and turned to find he wasn’t there, you furrowed your eye brows, sitting up. “Luke!?” you called.
he entered the room a short while later, “sorry, i was um... just grabbing something.” he said, holding whatever it was behind his back.
“do you have a present for me?” you teased as he took a few steps into the room.
he grinned sheepishly and your heart fluttered, wondering what it could possibly be. “so we’ve been dating for four months-”
“if you include the PR month.” you pointed out.
he rolled his eyes, “fine, we’ve been dating for three months. and...” his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he got on a knee, “i’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” he pulled out a small velvet box that he had been hiding behind his back, opening it to reveal a ring, “i’m sure about this. Princess Y/N, will you take me, a cocky, arrogant mama’s boy, to be your husband?”
you laughed at his inclusion of ‘arrogant’ because he always seemed to forget it, but not this time. looking down at the beautiful boy in front of you, your heart felt like it was soaring out of your chest as you nodded, feeling your eyes begin to swell.
“yes.” you said.
his face lit up as he removed the ring, taking your hand softly and slipping it onto your finger.
then he was on top of you, body pressing you into the bed as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his lips pressed against yours. you were both smiling so much that it was hard to kiss so you pushed at him, rolling so you could be on top.
you laced your fingers with his, marvelling at the ring on your finger as you looked down at him. “how did i ever get so lucky?” you asked.
“well i was given a bunch of folders-” he began but stopped as you laughed and pushed at his chest, “you know i’m a king right. you can’t push me around anymore.”
“oh yeah?” you asked as he rolled his way on top of you again, lips finding yours.
“yeah.” he said, rubbing his nose against yours slightly to make you laugh.
you smiled at each other, not a care in the world. “I love you Luke Hemmings.”
“i love you too Princess.
#luke hemmings#luke hemmings smut#luke hemmings x reader#prince!luke hemmings#prince luke hemmings#prince!5sos#prince 5sos#prince!au#au#oneshot#wild one#luke 5sos#softforcal#5sos luke#5sos luke smut#luke 5sos smut#luke 5 seconds of summer#prince luke hemmings oneshot#one shot#5sos oneshot
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a man of eternity
ship: kamukoma for: me and all those other sexy goth bitches who love vampires genre: alternate universe - vampire! izuru and human! nagito prompt: komaeda is cold and homeless and izuru is a sexy and forgiving vampire notes: tw for blood drinking and background junkan, mostly just domestic fluff though
There's always been rumors about the mansion in the edge of town. Rumors that a vampire lives there, or maybe even multiple ones. Though Komaeda thought it was nonsense, probably just an abandoned old house that people thought was creepy. Besides, he doesn't really have anything to lose. Walking through the hard and cold rain in soaking, thin clothes with only a pocket full of change to his name, what's the worst that can happen? Actually, ignore that thought. A lot could happen, but it would be better than dying of hypothermia. Nagito climbed up the steps to the house, pulling the hood on his cape tightly with his hand that wasn't holding the lantern. He then knocked on the door to the mansion, as to make sure no one was home. There was no response, so Nagito tried the door handle. The door was unlocked, and it opened easily as Nagito cautiously entered the dark house. He closed the door behind him, carefully analyzing the house. It was dark and dusty, the furniture covered in clothes as if it hadn't been tended to in years. Nagito set the latern down on the table, pulling down the hood on his cape as he approached the fireplace. It was stocked with wood, a box beside it filled with paper and other burnable items. He quickly got to work with setting up the fire, then using the fire within his latern to bring it to life. The house lit up as Nagito then went to light candles around the room. He could now see the house in more detail. The walls were a light shade of gray, and the living room had many cases of books, much taller than Nagito and filled to the brim. A painting stood above the fireplace, a young strawberry blonde woman standing beside a darker, long haired man. There were wearing much older clothes than common fashion, this house had to be old. Behind Komaeda was a door into the kitchen, and stairs beside that. He dared not intrude, there was no need to. He was quite content where he was. In front of a warm fire in a pretty house... He wiped off the dust of the gold plack underneath the painting, reading the words carefully. "Junko Enoshima and Izuru Kamukura, 1314..." Komaeda hummed to himself, "They weren't even married, maybe siblings. Strange." Nagito sat down in front of the fire place once again, beginning to drift off. Life had not been kind to him in the past, but he had a feeling he was about to get very lucky. He laid down, using his cape as a blanket and arm as a pillow as he drifted to sleep.
He awoke in a warm and comfortable bed, not to sunlight drifting through the windows, but rather candlelight. Nagito blinked a couple times, his vision slowly returning as he caught sight of blazing red eyes, watching him carefully. "Good morning," says the owner of these eyes, "Are you doing well?" Nagito's eyes finally focus as he scans this man carefully. He had long, very long, dark brown hair, and beautiful tan skin. Freckles litter his face and hands, and his eyes are wide and staring, like a doll. He looks a lot like a doll, actually. He is wearing a ruffled white button up and simple black slacks, the clothes look modern enough for Nagito's time, though. "A, ah, good morning..." Nagito said, sheepishly as he say up, awkwardly rubbing his head, "I apologize for breaking in, I thought this place was abandoned a, and-" "No need to apologize. I know you had no ill intent," replied the man, "May I ask what your name is?" "Oh! I'm Nagito Komaeda, my house burnt down last week and I haven't had anywhere to go since then..." He answered. "I am Izuru Kamukura, I've lived alone here for many years," replied the other. Nagito's brows furrowed, glancing Izuru up and down. "Izuru? Like the one in the painting downstairs? That... Doesn't make much sense... How old are you?" The other chuckled softly, hiding his smile behind his hand, "My, my, you catch on quick. Yes, I am the same one in the painting downstairs, can you guess how old I am?" Komaeda glanced to the side, beginning to count in hundreds on his fingers before looking back to Izuru with wide eyes, "600 years? That can't be right." "Close, I am 559," answered the dark haired male, "You can figure out why if you think about what others have said about this place." "... You're a vampire? Like, an immortal one?" Kamukura nodded, "Yes, I am the last one of my coven. The rest have passed away due to hunting. I'm rather young for a vampire, however." Komaeda tilted his head to the side in astonishment, "Do you have fangs?" "Mhmm," he answered, his hand, polished with black on the nails, reaches up to pull back his top lip and show the other. His fangs were not particularly large, though he were rather sharp. Komaeda now realized that the tooth that poked out under Izuru's lip was he smiled was indeed a fang. "They poke out when you smile, huh?" Komaeda asked, and Izuru nodded. "Yes, it's a deformity. I'm far from the perfect example of a vampire, I've had trouble ingesting human blood since I was young, and I cannot hunt for myself, both are due to my coven's passing... May I touch you?" Though caught off by the request, the white haired boy nodded, and Izuru reached out to touch his hair. Manicured nails carded through Komaeda's fluffy and curly hair, his free hand settling on where Nagito shoulders met his neck. "How... How long have you been alone?" Nagito asked, leaning into the other's touch. "Junko Enoshima passed roughly 300 years ago, she was the last one of my coven," Izuru replied, "She had raised me with her wife, Mikan. She was devastated when Mikan was caught and killed. Mikan was the first, followed by Junko's sister, then my twin brother, and soon all of my cousins had passed. This house was a last attempt to shelter us, it was me and Junko, before they caught up to her too," Izuru explained, "I have been alone since, and have never left this house." "How many of you were there?" "Seventeen, they called us the Despair Coven." Nagito fell silent, glancing to the side, "... I'm so sorry." "No, it's okay, you're here now, and than makes things a whole lot better," he said with a smile, pulling his hands away from Nagito as the white haired boy immediately missed the weight of them. "Is there... Anything I can do to make up for breaking into your house and making you tell a son story?" Nagito said with a laugh, "I'm not good at much, but I can clean!" Izuru snickered, "Tell you what, if you can keep this place clean, you can live here as long as you'd like." Komaeda's eyes widened, "Really? Well then, it's a deal!"
Over the next year, Komaeda would've explored the whole house, the guest bedroom he once awoke in would be claimed as his as he dusted down every part of the house and removed all the sheets from the furniture. The only rooms he had never seen were Izuru's and Junko's. He knew where Izuru's was, but chose not to disturb him. As for Junko's, it was locked, the key was most likely kept somewhere clever, knowing Izuru, though also knowing how highly he spoke of Junko. She was clever, the ultimate analyst. It's how she survived so long in the first place, outsmarting hunters to keep herself and her son safe. The key was the least of Komaeda's problems, though. The real problem was that Izuru had started throwing up goat's blood nightly, the blood he had lived off of for 600 years. Komaeda held his hair back while he did it, listened to him vent his frustrations and eventually end up crying on Komaeda's shoulder, whispering something about missing Mikan or Junko, how they would know what to do. Izuru stopped eating all together, which was only causing more trouble than solving it. It was late at night when Izuru knocked on his door, and Komaeda said to come in. Izuru say down beside him on the bed, pulling the white haired boy into a hug. Komaeda didn't mind, Izuru did this when he got lonely, which wasn't very often, but still. "You're not looking too well, Izuru," Nagito said, leaning his head on the smaller one's shoulder. "I know," he answered, "I don't know what to do about it. I am hungry, but I cannot eat. It will not stay down." Komaeda fell silent as Izuru carefully pet his hair, his paling hands carefully and shakily combing through the other's hair. "Izuru, when was the last time you fed off of a human?" Nagito asked. Izuru stopped, brows furrowing as he tried to recount, "When I was 200 years old. I couldn't keep that down either, and that's when it was decided I was a defective vampire." "Have you thought about trying again?" Izuru nodded a no, "Are you suggesting I try on you?" Komaeda snickered a bit, nodding, "Yes, I don't like seeing you suffer, so I'll gladly offer myself up." Kamukura smiled, pulling Komaeda closer to his chest, "You are too kind, but I don't want to hurt you." "I have a high pain tolerance," Nagito countered, "You are very gentle anyway, I don't think you would." Kamukura fell silent, quietly rocking Komaeda in his arms. He was thinking. Nagito reached up seized one of Izuru's cold and shaking hands, holding it carefully against his chest. "I... I will try it, okay?" Izuru finally says, there is anxiety in his voice as he glances down at Nagito, "If I hurt you, though, you get to punch me." Nagito laughs, "I won't be doing that." Gently, Izuru sets Komaeda down on the bed beside him as Komaeda releases Izuru's hand, the sitting up. Izuru moved himself into Nagito's lap, cold hands drifting down Komaeda's neck as to find an appropriate spot. Komaeda shivers under the touch as Izuru's fingers stops at a certain spot. He backs away for a moment, wiping off his fangs with his button up sleeve before his worry sicken eyes meet Nagito's. "Are you sure you wanna go through? I can stop." "Don't be a baby, you're 600 years old, I said it's okay. I'm not scared." Izuru continues to look for a reason to stop, but eventually gives in. He takes a breath, then leaning in once more. It doesn't hurt when his teeth sink into Nagito's neck, as expected. They are sharp and full of precision, Izuru is careful as always. Had it not been for Izuru's breath and the fluttering of his lashes against his neck, Komaeda probably wouldn't of even noticed. A smile comes to Komaeda's face as his arm haphazardly wrapped around Izuru's waist. "You're good, you can keep going," Nagito says reassuringly. They remain silent for a few minutes before Izuru pulls away, there is blood dripping from his mouth as Nagito cleans it up with his thumb. The dizziness catches up with Komaeda, but he can work through it as he notices some of the color come back to Izuru's face. His doll like eyes are no longer dull and hollow, the life has returned to them. "You're staring," Izuru interrupts his train of thought. "You're pretty," Nagito replied with a smile. The dark haired one blushes, sitting back and pushing his long hair behind his ear. "I'm going to do something a little crazy, is that okay?" "Be my guest, is there really anything crazier than drinking my blood?" Izuru nodded a no with a smile, leaning in and pressing his lips against Nagito's, to which Nagito reciprocated instantly. It's kinda weird to taste your own blood on someone else's tongue.
#danganronpa#danganronpa nagito#danganronpa fanfiction#Nagito Komaeda#komaeda nagito#izuru kamukura#kamukura izuru#izuru x nagito#komaeda x izuru#komaeda x kamukura#kamukoma#fanfiction#writing#writer#writers#writblr
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just want to say a quick thank you to anyone following this self-indulgent little thing. i hope everyone’s staying safe and healthy. love you guys
alice enters valentine’s office for the second time in the very early morning, morning dew still glistening on the weeds growing around diamond city. not even ellie is present; instead, nick takes her place in pacing around the office, sorting through papers and case files. now, folders are stacked high on the desk in front of her. one folder lies open on the desk, alice scribbled on the tab in sketchy penmanship.
‘i talked to piper last night,’ nick says from across the room. ‘got some of your history, here.’ her life story condensed to bullet points. he gestures for her to sit in the nearest chair. ‘it’s all very interesting, but doesn’t tell me what lead you here.’
she sits, and so does he in the chair opposite. he brings his hands together over her file, skeletal over plastic skin, layered and intertwined. she looks down to her own hands, technically two hundred years old, nail polish still flaking on her cuticles.
if she wants to get any part of her life back, she has to give up another. her history.
‘i assume this doesn’t leave this office?’ at his slow nod, she takes a deep breath. ‘my husband was murdered. my child - my son - was kidnapped. he’s-he’s not even a year old.’
valentine makes a note - missing person’s case, she reads upside down. ‘describe everything you remember.’
she closes her eyes, forces herself to remember. to put herself back in that moment, in that pod, hands pounding against the metal door that separated her from her husband’s killers. ‘there was a man and a woman. they were dressed in-in hazmat suits.’ she frowns, stomach turning. the memory plays itself out. ‘nate wouldn’t let them have shaun.’ tears burn the corners of her eyes. ‘god, he wouldn’t let go - ’ i’m not giving you shaun! ‘ - so they killed him. they just - ’
she puts her head in her hands, tries to will the tears away, but one sniff and it’s - it’s over. that cold envelopes her again, threatens to pull her under, but when she looks up it’s just nick. just nick with a tissue in his hand and his other on her shoulder. she takes it with a nod and pulls herself together. puts claire to sleep again and wears alice like armor.
‘a two man team for an abduction,’ nick says smoothly, pulling out details she hadn’t considered. ‘there are few groups in the commonwealth that could accomplish something like that. we’ve got raiders, gunners, super mutants and, of course, the institute.’
‘not raiders.’ her voice comes out watery. ‘the man was too well armed. i don’t - who are the gunners?’
‘high profile mercenary group. they’ve got the guns to pull that off, but child stealing isn’t exactly their M.O.’ he strokes his chin. ‘super mutants aren’t sophisticated enough to pull something like that off, either. which leaves - ’
‘the institute.’ alice swears.
‘it’s a start,’ he says with a sigh without breath. ‘describe the man.’
‘he had this... deep voice. rough, like being dragged across gravel. he was bald, with a scar, here.’ she drags a finger down across her left eye.
unblinking yellow eyes widen. he picks up a file next to him, then another, and another, until he finds what he’s looking for. ‘i knew that sounded familiar.’ he turns the file toward her. it’s a rough sketch of a man, and it could be him if she squinted, but the features - no hair, distinct scar - are undeniably the same.
‘that’s him,’ she whispers. ‘that’s the man that killed my husband.’
nick drops the file on top of the stack. ‘you didn’t hear the name kellogg, did you?’
‘no - ’ just nate yelling, the man threatening, the gun shot. ‘but i remember he called me the back up.’ face right in front of hers, grinning, not caring that she was screaming -
‘the back up?’ he shakes his head. ‘maybe they were supposed to come back if something happened.’
‘i don’t know,’ she responds lamely. ‘but if he took my son, if he knows where he is...’
nick stares at her. ‘actually, we have records that put him in a house in the west stands.’
stands. like - ‘wait. here? in diamond city?’ is that what mama murphy had meant?
‘it’s been years since he was last seen - ‘
the chair screeches across the floor when she stands suddenly. ‘nick, if he’s here, if there’s any clues we could follow... please. i have to try.’
‘well, you saved my life. let’s go get yours back.’
she’s halfway out the door before he even rises from his chair.
-
piper catches up to them as the sun rises over diamond city. she’s still rubbing at her eyes when she rounds the corner and literally almost runs into alice and nick. alice looks grim and wan and nick looks - like nick, though there’s a tension in his jaw she can see through his broken plastic skin.
barely seven in the morning and the mood is already dour. she should curse herself for sleeping in, but she didn’t.
‘what’d i miss?’ she falls into step with nick when alice only gives her a tight smile.
‘might have some clues to the whereabouts of her missing person,’ nick replies.
‘that’s... vague.’
‘client confidentiality, piper. this doesn’t go in your paper.’
‘come on. i know i’m pushy, but i’m not intentionally an asshole.’
nick hums, and piper gives up, following in alice’s wake as she storms up to the abandoned west stands. ‘hey, isn’t that - ?’ she points at the singular house up in the stands.
‘it is.’ alice’s response is colder than the morning air.
‘well - damn.’
-
alice watches nick fiddle with the tumbler. she taps her fingers on her leg, keeping time with the beat of her heart. it’s been five minutes since piper left to get the key to the house. five minutes nick has been trying to pick the lock. five minutes she’s had to wait. it’s five minutes too long.
nick grabs her arm when she moves away from the wall. ‘be patient. piper will get the key. that elevator to the mayor’s office isn’t the fastest.’
‘i can’t keep waiting like this.’
‘here, then.’ he pulls away from the lock. ‘you give it a shot. keep your hands busy.’
‘i - ’ she takes the bobby pin out of his hand. ‘okay.’ she grips it tighter to keep her hands from shaking. ‘right. h-how?’
nick does his best to teach her, she knows. but by the time piper comes bounding up the stairs, alice has broken three bobby pins and hadn’t made any more headway than nick had.
‘thank you,’ she says, and stalls with the key in the door.
piper draws her gun, and nick does the same. alice turns the key, takes the handle, and pulls open the door.
-
nick steps forward first, gun drawn. piper follows. alice stands in the doorway, stomach lodged in her throat. piper flips the light switch on the wall, illuminating the small house. her stomach falls through the floor. dread numbs her arms.
kellogg’s house is empty.
not even just unoccupied. she could live with that. but wholly and entirely empty. the only thing in his house is the thick layer of dust coating a lone desk in the center of the room.
alice drags her fingers across the surface, watching the lines appear with a disinterested stare. nick comes down from the loft, declares that empty too. but she finds a button, red and too-obvious under the desk; she pushes it anyway. the wall shifts near the door, sliding away and revealing a secret room.
still nothing. the weapon racks on the wall are empty, the shelves are empty, the chair in the center - empty. nick said it had been years - she’s far too late. kellogg is long gone and shaun - shaun -
‘oh my god.’ alice covers her mouth with her hands.
-
piper dismisses herself awkwardly, squeezing alice’s shoulder as she walks past. alice hardly feels it. hardly hears nick’s words over the rush of blood in her ears, the dull throb, the echo of her own breathing in her head. he leads her, slowly, back to the office, avoiding the waking city residents and waving off anyone that comes too close.
what does she do? where does she go? kellogg was her only lead, the one directly responsible and he’s - gone. like shaun, like nate, like -
‘oh god,’ she whispers again, stifling a sob.
‘breathe. ellie, water, please?’ nick asks his confused assistant, but she does as she’s told. ‘it’s not over yet, kid. don’t give up on me now.’
no matter what. she had said that once, hadn’t she? to piper, for the newspaper.
alice forces herself to drink, to breathe. ‘what now, then?’
‘the institute has plenty of enemies. someone’s got to know something.’
she shakes her head. ‘the brotherhood patrol i met didn’t know anything. they might have been able to contact their superiors by now, but who knows how long it’ll take for them to reach the commonwealth.’ she sets her cup down on the desk. ‘the minutemen - we don’t even have people to gather intel.’
‘hm.’ he pulls open a drawer and removes a holotape. join the railroad is written on it in marker. ‘they may be your only shot. the trouble is finding them.’
‘the railroad?’ a woman’s voice plays from the tape. the pitch is not one she needs convincing on - synths are people, this she knows, with nick valentine sitting in front of her. join with us in fighting the real enemy: the institute. join the railroad.
when you’re ready for the next step, don’t worry, we’ll find you.
‘i’m just supposed to... wait until they contact me?’
he places the holotape back in the drawer after she ejects it from her pipboy. ‘there are rumors that float around diamond city. the railroad is hidden, but people have mentioned the freedom trail.’
‘are you serious? the freedom trail. the one that starts - ’
‘just outside park street station, yes.’ if he could narrow his eyes, she imagines he would. instead, he just tips up his chin, his voice growing suspicious. ‘i’m sure you remember the way.’
too well. ‘i do. can’t forget that swan boat.’
‘ah, yes, swan. you need any help out there?’
alice stands, wipes off the collected dust from her fingertips. ‘i think ellie would have a heart attack if you disappeared again.’ the assistant in question rolls her eyes. ‘the way will be clearer now. i’ll be okay.’
‘well, all right, then. i’ll see what more i can dig up around here. mayor owes me a few favors.’
hand on the door, she turns. ‘what do i owe you for this?’
‘you saved my life. we’re calling it even.’
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Guess who is back with another build from @gayshitiguess ‘s series “From the Bell Jar”! It’s been a hot minute since I built anything from his work, but I started rereading it the other day and got the idea to build the apartments that Molly, Yasha, Beau, and Jester were in at the beginning of “Beware, Beware”. This time instead of just posting raw screenshots of the build I made graphics of them (really flexin’ them first-year architecture students skills aren’t I). This time I also made sims to go with the build because I wanted to add pictures in the apartments. More details about the build and the sims under the cut!
The Building (overall) : I only furnished the bottom floor because I only needed the bottom floor and it would make my game run smoother if I had less on the lot. The building is just a basic block apartment complex that has balconies on the left side. I put a parking garage on the right side of the bottom floor, which is part-way under the ground level. I got done with the whole thing and realized I had no way for sims to get into the building, so I tried to add a door on the side, but it didn’t work because of the split level so I just teleported the sims into the building.
The Parking Garage : This is a pretty small parking garage, but it doesn't function to start with because the Sims 4 doesn’t have cars or bikes or anything. The cars and the motorbike are CC, but I’ve had them for so long that I’ve lost the links to them and I don’t know how to track them down. If I can find them I will add the links.
Molly and Yasha’s Place : I like to think that Yasha kinda took over decorating the living area of the apartment and made it super nice and calming. I used lots of greens and plants and light tones in the living room and kitchen because too me it really just feels like something Yasha would like.
Yasha’s Room : I kept with the lighter tones in her room with the peach, navy, and yellow color scheme. I placed some pictures of her and Molly and of Beau and Jester on her dresser and a sunflower picture above the dresser that matches with the sunflowers on her desk. I also placed some books on her desk on the side closer to the bed as if it was being used as a nightstand. I’m pretty sure the curtains in her room are the only ones I used besides the one I used in all of the other rooms.
Molly’s Room : Molly’s room is where I used a darker color scheme in this apartment. I wanted to add a lot more color and clutter to his room but the Sims 4 is seriously lacking in Molly-style decor. The hanging decoration above his bed is CC from a big pack I downloaded a while ago and the peacock picture on the wall opposite of his bed is from one of the game packs. I ended up using a lot of red and black in his room with splashes of blue. I placed make-up, nail polish, and a picture of him and Yasha on his dresser and some candles on his nightstand.
Beau and Jester’s Place : I made the kitchen and living area of their apartment very obviously decorated by Jester. I made it all bright and pink and green with fairy lights and a picture wall of her friends. I made their apartment more of an open floorplan but it still the same general shape as Molly and Yasha’s.
Jester’s Room : Jester’s room was super fun for me to build (just like in the last build I did for “From the Bell Jar”... maybe that says something about me). I used a lot of pink and yellow. I made a vanity using counters, a glass desk, large mirrors, and bb.moveobjects. I placed make-up, hair products, and a picture of Molly and Yasha on her vanity. I also placed a teddy bear and a picture of her and Beau on her dresser. There is also a shoe rack next to her door that isn’t in the screenshot.
Beau’s Room : Even though her room is the exact same dimensions as Jester’s it somehow feels much smaller. I think it has to do with how the room is laid out, the dark color, and the one window vs Jester’s three. Beau’s room is dark blue and black with some posters on her wall near her bed that add some color. I placed a clothes rack and a treadmill in her room. I also placed some books and a notebook on her nightstand.
Jester : Jester’s face was SO HARD to figure out and I’m still not 100% happy with it. I have tried to make a Jester sim multiple times in the past (shhhhh, ignore my M9 savefile in my game) and I can never get her face right. Jester is a beauty that can not be captured in a character creation mode. I hadn’t originally planned on using this hair for her, but the color in the ends really sold it for me. Her entire outfit, aside from the necklace, is CC. I didn’t change anything about the body from the random sim I started with besides the skin tone. Her skin tone (and everyone’s) is different than what it looks like in screenshots. Her skin is supposed to be darker but when I looked back at my screenshots it didn’t like it was supposed to and I was very upset. Her outfit is very cutesie and I love it. I was originally just going to do some cute shorts and a tee but I got into CAS and went feral with my new CC. She (and everyone else) has more outfits that I can show later if you wanna see them.
Beau : Beau was the easiest for me to make. If you change her eyes to green than you have 90% of what my other sims look like (I might have a type). I used a CC hair on her that has a lotus shaved into the undercut. I thought it looked more like a Cadeuces hairstyle but it looks so cool that I had to use it. Her outfit is mostly CC besides her boots. The jeans I actually downloaded specifically for Molly (there is a color swatch that is perfect for him) but I ended up using on her. Like I said with Jester her skin is actually darker than what it is in the screenshots and you can’t really see it but she does have freckles across her nose.
Yasha : I hit randomize sim and got pretty much what I imagine Yasha looks like. I had to change a few things like eye color, nose shape, and lips. Her hair is CC that is actually from an Anime pack but I thought it looked very Yasha-esque. Her outfit is all in-game. I tried to use the gender settings in CAS but I couldn’t get them to work with the CC hair so I left them alone and worked with what I had (Yasha is trans in the “From the Bell Jar” AU if I’m not mistaken). The shirts automatically add cleavage even if you have the bust slider all of the way down.
Molly : LEMME TELL YOU HOW HARD IT IS TO CREATE MOLLY IN THE SIMS. Y’all, he took by far the longest. First thing, CC doesn’t work well with the gender settings in CAS. I downloaded so many things to use on him only to get into CAS and find out that it doesn’t matter if you turn off gendered clothing, for most CC if it was designed for female sims it is only going to show up if the sim is female. The jeans I used on Beau were supposed to be for Molly but they wouldn’t show up in CAS when I making him because they are for female sims and the CC ignores when I take off the gender filters. Second thing, most of the eyes for male sims don’t have eyelashes! There are very few that have lashes on them and my CC lashes are broken. Luckily one of the pre-set eyes with lashes I could mess with until I got some eyes that I thought looked like Molly. I am very happy with the sim I ended up with. I wish the purple hair in the sims was darker or that there was a darker purple available, but I still think that he looks very cute. His hair is CC and so is most of his outfit besides the shoes. One of the screenshots of him actually shows him in his party wear (which is one of the outfits you set in the Sims 4 in case anyone was unaware. It can sound kinda odd to anyone who doesn’t know that’s what the category is called). The top of his party wear is CC as well. His skin tone is darker in-game like Beau and Jester’s and he also has freckles on his face and arms but those don’t show up well in the screenshots. (Also those aren’t pecs, both of the shirts you see him in are technically female tops so they add shadow and cleavage and you can’t get rid of it. I started on his body shape and went “okay let's make a twink”)
Bonus Screenshot : Guess who won in a 1v1 video game match
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Afterparty
Pairing: Steven Rogers x fem!reader (1st PoV) Wordcount: 3510 Contents: Looooooots of smut. Pretty much only that. A bit of fluff too at the end. Some pining first. But mainly smut: unprotected sex (don’t play like that in real life, please), fingering (fem receiving), oral (male receiving), details.
For ages, or so it feels like, I’ve been pining so hard for Steve. Each time I’ve been tempted to make a move, I’ve managed to stop myself by reminding me how bad an idea it would be to mess up a perfectly good friendship and potentially unbalance the dynamics in the group. The problem is: he’s just about as wonderful as it gets and being stuck in the alleged “friendzone” takes a lot of energy. Each time he smiles or talks, I get fuzzy, which is one of the major reasons I always try to stay clear of any situation that might involve both him and alcohol.
Until now.
It’s been a long night after the dinner, and somehow it has included drinks. Lots of drinks. Which let to a night out on town with Steve, Bucky and Sam. The guys always take pride in taking care of us girls, and with Wanda insisting on staying home…well there’s only one girl left on the West Coast team to somehow keep the three guys in check.
Bucky and Sam are the best type of frienemies, pulling pranks on each other and being sassy as fuck even if they wouldn’t hesitate a second to help if the other is in trouble. Just like they would for Steve. Being one of the girls, I’ve learned to deal with it and can give as good as I get, so sometimes the two team up on me. They do that to anyone, really.
This night had been no different, except at some point Steve must have thought they’d gotten out of line and tried to “defend” me, resulting in a lot K-I-S-S-I-N-G-chanting and other childish things that (according to them) were a way of getting us to finally discover each other. That had been awkward, for me at least when I saw how indignantly Steve tried to refuse any grounds for the banter. Maybe it was to distract Buck and Sam, maybe it was to avoid seeing how foreign the idea of hooking up with me was for Steve, but I’d challenged them to a drinking game.
Yeah…not my best idea.
I’m not used to drinking. Not at all. That’s why I’m more than happy to just lean against the nearest shoulder now we’re on the way home in cab. Even if that shoulder belongs to Steve who’s got an arm protectively around me, holding me up each time I doze off.
“We’re there.” Steve’s voice is gentle and so close to my ear that I half expect to feel his lips.
He helps me out of the car, ignoring Bucky’s and Sam’s nudges and winks, and half carries me, half walks me through the door and into the elevator.
“Gods, it’s been ages since I’ve gotten this hammered.” I groan, already dreading what’s to come unless I do something about it.
The elevator is humming gently, trying to lull me to sleep, and I use my magic to purge some of the alcohol in my system. It’s not my specialty, but it’s enough to clear my head a bit. However, it also means getting back to the stage of drunkenness that I want to avoid when near Steve. Flirty. Horny. The way he’s holding me is pressing me close to him and the ropey muscles of his lower arm are soooo close to my breasts, making me think everything that I’m not supposed to think of.
When the door opens with a soft pling to the guys’ floor, he doesn’t let go as I had expected. “You guys go ahead, I’ll just make sure she makes it all the way to her room.”
I swear, I can see him blush faintly in the polished metal walls of the elevator, but for once neither Buck nor Sam say anything except goodnight. Then the door closes after them. Now comes the real test: trying to behave.
“I’m okay. Got a bit of it out.” I hiccup.
Steve doesn’t seem to believe me. “Sure. But a bit’s not enough.”
“I just need a shower and then sleep.”
The door opens with another pling, and he testingly allows me to walk on my own. I admit, I’m not walking completely straight even if I’m trying my best, so perhaps it’s understandable when he picks me up and carries me the rest of the way. On other occasions, I’d hate that sort of help…but considering how close it’s gotten me to Steve, I’m probably not going to learn from this experience.
Pushing the door open, he puts me down in the middle of the room where I kick off my heels straight away. The faint click behind me proves that the door has closed on its own.
“I’ll start the water for you. You’ll shower and then straight to bed.”
Not the fun kind of orders…unless he’ll join me. “Yes, sir.”
I’m trying desperately to reach the zipper down the length of the back of my dress. How did I ever manage to get this on? It’s a nice dress and I know I look amazing in it, but right now it’s constricting.
“Trouble, doll?” He pauses on the way to the bathroom.
Looking up, I can see the smirk that makes the corner of his mouth twitch playfully. Oh boy, I’m never going to hear the end of this. “I…I can’t reach the zipper.”
“Here. Let me.”
Slowly turning me around so he’s standing behind me, Steve’s fingers find the zipper and pull it open in a smooth movement all the way down to the hem, revealing a few inches of the dark blue bra and undies.
“I should…hang that up.” I hear myself say as I slip it off my shoulders even though he‘s standing right there.
There’s a slight sputter behind me and when I turn, I can see that he’s squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Friend-zoned so much he can’t even stand to see me in what corresponds to a bikini. Always the perfect gentleman, the Captain America. Well in that case, who cares about the rest then? I make quick work at the bra-clasp before slipping both that and the panties off and tossing both things aside.
He’s still blushing. “Just ermm…which way’s the door?”
“Not even gonna say goodnight?” The pout turns into a devious idea and the idea turns into a purring voice. “No goodnight kiss or lullaby?” I swear, I hear Steve’s heartrate double.
Licking his lips quickly, he finds an answer. “You don’t wanna hear me sing, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart, that’s a first. Stepping right in front of him, he’s so close I can feel the heat radiating from the Dorito-shaped body. “Well, just goodnight, then.”
I need to stand on tiptoes to reach his cheek, placing a soft kiss there that makes him hold his breath. Another one’s planted on the opposite cheek, and this time Steve turns his face towards me, trying to find my mouth with his own lips. It’s gentle, safe enough that not even my granny would have complained, and a far cry from what I really want. Reaching up, my fingers trace through the short hairs on the back of his head, pulling him a bit closer to me before I abandon his lips in favour of his jaw which I trace until I reach the tender spot on his neck. Just under the ear. Apparently, that’s the on-button, because he finally makes use of his own hands, one slipping around my waist, the other placing my left hand on his hip.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He sounds out of breath, but hopeful.
“Oh yeah...” I have to stop to scan his close-eyed face in an effort to gage his feelings. “Do you want me to stop?”
I’m already pulling away, but he reels me back in. “I’ve been waiting for this for so…so long.” His normally strong hands are gentle now as they slide up my arms. “I want you. Need you,” breathing in with his nose buried in my hair, he sighs, “but I can’t risk taking advantage of you.”
Thwomp-thwomp, goes my heart, loud enough to fill my ears and strong enough to burst through my chest. Thwomp-thwomp, blending with his words in my mind as I concentrate on my magic. It burns through my veins as the alcohol’s purged, but it’s a sweet fire that edges on a deep, smouldering hunger in the pit of my abdomen. I already knew what I was doing…there was no chance I’d regret or forget my actions unless it had been to let Steve walk out the door without knowing just how badly I crave him. Love him.
Trailing my fingertips across his broad shoulders until they reach his collar, I let them rest at the first button. “Still not changing my mind, babe.” I whisper, looking at him through the darkened lashes.
All this time, his eyes have been closed. Now he opens then, rooting me on the spot with piercing ice that takes in every last detail: my messy hair, slightly smudged makeup, the flush undertone to my skin as his gaze travels down my bared form. Never has a man made me feel so naked while undressed. Steve doesn’t just see my body, he sees more…and he likes what he sees. I know because of the twinkle in his eyes and his gaping mouth as he breathes out one word.
“Impeccable.”
Heat begins to grow as a knot deep down in my stomach. Any answer I might have formulated is prevented from being spoken as our mouths crash together. Soft at first, but nearly two years of pining transform the tenderness into greedy, sloppy kisses and little bites while we each fight for the upper hand.
And speaking of hands: altering between firm grasps and soft strokes, the Captain explores every inch of my skin, causing my nipples to harden as he pinches them in passing before steering me by my hips to straddle his thigh. The first moan escapes him as he feels the dampness between my legs soak into the jeans when he begins to rock me gently.
The pooling heat grows, like a soap bubble it promises mesmerizing beauty before it eventually will burst. But before then…frantically, I manage to unbutton his shirt before he can pull it off the rest of the way himself, leaving me free to tug at the belt and lift the white tank he wears underneath. Gods almighty. Those abs are perfect against my palm, the same with the pecs as I reach further before reverting and dragging my dark-red nails across his skin. His intake of breath is sharp, probably a result of the surprise rather than the faint blushing trails.
Two seconds later he’s got my wrists stuck in an iron grip against my abdomen, and my back is pressed against his muscular form. It went so fast I didn’t have a chance to avoid it, but now that I’m there, feeling his erection press against my ass, I’m not sure I want to object anyways.
“Watch it, sweetheart,” Steve growl, his lips ghosting the tender spot between shoulder and neck, “or you won’t get to touch at all.”
Tilting the hips, I grind torturously slow against the throbbing arousal, eliciting a guttural moan from the man. Still, he doesn’t let go of the wrists, using only one hand to reach towards my crotch. Fingers brush lightly against the short curls then skip to the sensitive skin on the inner thigh. Each feathery touch sets off goosebumps, because my body needs more than he’s giving me, wants more than the teasing. When a single finger finally does trace the crevice between my folds, starting at the point where my legs meet with the crotch and stroking towards the clit languidly, I’m the one to whimper. I can feel Steve smile against the skin of my neck.
“You like that?” Two fingers part the folds, granting access to the slippery wetness in between. There’s no way I can talk, so I just nod. “Good.”
Finally, he lets go, dividing the focus between the long, waving strokes of my pussy and my breasts, the flat expanse of the stomach, gripping tightly onto the hips. And still, after each adventure his hands and fingers return to the sensitive bundle of nerves and the slick folds, building up a pressing longing for more. Who’d have thought the man was “super” at more things than fighting and being kindness incarnated. Reaching back up, I can grab his short hair, carting the fingers through in a futile attempt at guiding his mouth to the right spots. The other latches on to his hip or thigh, depending on how weak in the knees Steve makes me.
A finger slips effortlessly inside, pressing against the wall as the man in charge tests the wetness there. The tightness. Rolling my hips in response pulls a guttural moan from my throat as I feel the invasion deepen and swipe over the perfect spot.
Then the fingers retract, accompanied by a low chuckle. “Not so fast, doll.”
Is it mutiny to disagree? Abandoning the hold on him and trailing the fingertips against the waistband of his trousers, I soon feel the partially unbuckled belt and free him from the restraining leather which I hang over my shoulders. Just in case. A button. A zipper. Both strained from the added pressure of his swell behind them. Stepping back, I get to my knees on the floor from where I can look up at the gorgeous man through my lashes. It almost steals my breath away to notice the brows arched in curiosity as my fingers curl around the offensively covering layers of fabric and begin to pull down. I’m smart enough to lean back on my heels the moment his cock springs free, otherwise it’d have slapped me in the face. Swaffeled, they call it in the Netherlands.
Greedy palms follow the clothes down the thigs before I let them fall around his ankles. It’s impossible not to be somewhat nervously eager to hold the throbbing member, feel the softness of the skin in my palm, and trace the vein underneath it with my tongue. But I place chaste kisses along his hipbone instead, leading closer and closer while I hear his breathing hitch each time lips make contact with the intimate area. And my hands? They are exploring the tension in the muscles of those strong, perfectly shaped legs and ass. I mean honestly, I could bounce a quarter off that touche and it’d shoot straight to Mars!
It amplifies the difference as my fingers nestle at the root of his erection, cupping his sac in my palm. Even as it tightens upwards, the thin skin under the sparing, golden downs is like silk that smooths and wrinkles under the swipe of a thumb.
The sound escaping Steve is otherworldly as my tongue circles the crown of his manhood, lavishly wetting the angrily blushing head before taking it between my lips. Already, there’s a twang of saltiness and it’s egging me on. Pulling back and swirling the tongue around him in tight spirals and then letting go with a soft “pop”, it’s easy to feel the throbbing and twitching accompanied by the sweetest music in the form of drawn-out moans from the Captain. Captain, hah! I feel in control and I love it. A broad stroke running the length of his shaft to the balls has him groaning and I can see his hands flail helplessly through the air, clenching and loosening as he wants to take hold of something. Anything. But all he finds is my hair and although he’s digging his fingers into it, he does so as gently as possible, knowing how strong he is compared to me.
Kissing the tip, tasting the precum, the lips round firm and gentle around his member once more before hollowing my cheeks and taking him in as far as I can. It’s not enough and I have to wrap my hand around the root of the shaft to extend the sensation, the pressure and vacuum constantly altering as I slowly bob my head back and forth. Tongue swirls and strokes hungrily, cajoling delicious sounds from the man who’s always in control.
“Oh…oooh…like that...” His voice’s raw with lust, hoarse from his self-restraint.
That easy? Letting go with a last, lingering lick, I look up at him through my lashes, a devilish smirk betraying how much I enjoy the effect I have on Steve. Just for good measure, though, he gets a few pumps to string him along a few seconds more. Getting to my feet is done in a leisurely pace, my body flush to his statuesque build that’s damp with ill-contained vigour, obvious as well by the rapid breathing and thundering heartbeat I can feel as my hands slip up his chest followed by kisses and love bites.
The moment my arms wrap around his trembling form, he’s hands are everywhere. Stroking, massaging, squeezing. Latching my teeth onto his earlobe, I drag a hiss from him, though clearly of pleasure as his cock twitches against my abdomen.
“Yeah…just like that?” The whisper’s hot against his throat. “Are you gonna ask nicely?”
Steve pulls back abruptly to take in the sight before him, baffled at the boldness of my statement. He’s not a stranger to politeness or polite requests, but this time a darkness fills his eyes, and a hungry smile rivals mine.
“No.” Deep, reverberating, flammable denial.
In a blink of an eye he’s got me lifted off the ground, my legs wrapped around him as he carries me by the thighs. It’s only a few steps, then I feel the cool wall slam against my back, and even though it’s far from as powerful as he could have, it’s still enough to make me gasp in excitement. Something I’d have done again if I’d had the air for it when his lips and teeth latch on to my neck and shoulder, deep growls of lust muffled by the skin.
I feel how he aligns the quivering member between my slippery folds. “Yeah....”
“Then ask…nicely.” The smirk is palpable.
Looks like he’s still got some power over the situation. “Please…fuck me. Hard.” I swallow at the intake of his breath.
I know already that the Captain’s well endowed. I’ve held his cock in my hand, played with my lips and tongue. Still it makes me gasp and moan as he pushes inside me, stretching the walls and allowing me to adjust every other inch until he’s sheathed deep within my slippery heat.
“You okay, doll?” he breathes against my ear, nuzzling the nose in my hair.
I can’t answer with words, only roll my hips to egg him on. And he does begin, slow and rhythmically at first, allowing me to meet each thrust with a tip of my pelvis to augment the sensation each time our bodies clash. Scarlet nails dig into his shoulders. The pace quickens in unison with the growing need from both of us, and he Steve has to pin me by the hips to the wall because my back arches. His grip is bruising, I register in the ecstatic fog of the nearing climax, and still the dull pain adds to the orchestra of pleasurable sensations and swells within me. Each rutting roll of his hips calls forth animalistic sounds from both of us although most are swallowed by gasps for air or the desperate kisses we exchange.
When the walls come crashing down, there’s not even the slightest inkling of control left in me. All I can feel is Steve and the explosive bliss flooding through my body and soul while the muscles convulse in my womb and tense everywhere else. It sends Steve over the edge too. With a roar that sticks in his throat, he rams the cock deep inside and shudders repeatedly just like me as I, or we, begin the decent from the peak of pleasure.
Only when our breaths have evened nearly completely does he carry me to the shower, my legs still wrapped around his waist and his burning, although deflating, heat inside me. Each step bring a new kiss.
…
Lying in his arm, head resting on Steve’s chest and my limps wrapping around the perfect body, it feels strangely familiar. I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it’s here it’s more peaceful than expected. More…right.
“Sweetheart?” His quiet words make me look up at him, meeting his ice-blue gaze happily. “I didn’t plan for this. I’m happy, don’t ever think otherwise…I’d just…I wanted to take you on a date first…”
The sigh can also be a giggle and I know I have to clarify my mirthful reaction. “If it’s up to me, then we’ve got plenty of times for dates from now on.”
“Good. I’d like that.”
Snuggling closer, there’s no doubt in my heart that he means it.
#Steve rogers x reader#mcu fanfiction#mcu drabble#smut#lemons!!#captain america#Steve Rogers#Bucky Barnes#sam wilson#marvel cinematic universe#Captain america x you#Steve rogers x you#Captain America x reader#steve#mcu#sexy steve#soft steve
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TAZ Fic prompt: Taako and Kravitz on their second date please!
6300 words later, this is also on AO3.
PSA: there be some smut here.
Here is a list of the shit Taako has learned about the GrimReaper since threatening to execute some tentacle porn on theman—being?—several months ago:
The accent? Fake. He’s not sure why Kravitzfeels the need to have a business accent, since his normal voice is soft andcharming, but sure, dude, some people have train names.
His hands are cold because Kravitz is dead. This feels like it should have been obvious.
Kind of a dork? It’s strange to equate the shy politeness with the same person who spenta good minute and a half shouting about Merle’s death bounty.
Likes red wine, can’t get drunk, which seemslike a shitty deal.
Taako is considering adding more information to that list,starting with a fucking loser andmoving on from there, because Kravitz just spent solidly five minutes trying toarticulate a sentence over the link between their Stones.
“Hang on, bubbe, let me take a stab at this,” Taakointerrupts, and Kravitz falls silent. “Drinks at the Chug and Squeeze again? Say, nine o’ clock moon time?”
“Yes,” Kravitz says, relieved. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Sure about that?” Taako drawls. “That was like pulling teeth.”
Kravitz laughs a little bit—nice laugh, another fact for the list. “I—well, most people are pretty glad to seeme go.”
“I’m sure they are, handsome, it’s a pleasure to watch yougo.” Kravitz makes a faint choking noiseand Taako snickers, which might be a little mean, but also, Taako doesn’tcare. Taako carefully draws a brush fullof silver-green polish across his thumbnail and cocks his head at the Stone ofFarspeech. “We haven’t died any timesthat I’m not aware of, right? This isn’ta business thing or whatever?”
“Uh, no,” Kravitz says, stumbling over the words. “I was—it was—I was thinking maybe a date.”
Taako grins. WindingKravitz up is probably cruel, but it’s so eminentlygratifying. “I’d take you somewherenicer for our third date, but there ain’t a lot of options on the moon,y’know? I guess we could go to FantasyCostco and you could see how you do against Garfield–”
“Third date?”
“Sure, keep up.” Taako counts them off on his fingers, unnecessary but amusing. “The lab, the Chug and Squeeze, andtonight. Hey, if you count the nightafter Refuge separately I guess this is four.”
“The lab—Taako, I was under orders to hunt you down and execute you in the lab.”
“I dunno, homie, kinky tentacle shit generally counts as adate. I’ll see you tonight, dress nice,okay-peace-bye.” And Taako severs theconnection while Kravitz is still stammering through the start of his response.
Taako keeps snickering the whole time he finishes paintinghis nails, because the alternative is to chew on his lips and wonder what thefuck he’s doing. At least the familiardetail work keeps his hands steady.
Kravitz is nice, is the thing. Nice,fuck, Taako’s never really…nice isn’treally Taako’s type, see, because Taako’s a lot of things and nice isn’t one of them. Taako breaksnice people. Like Glamour Springs. It wasn’t his fault. It was all his fault. You fedthem their death.
Hell, Kravtiz has his big book of badness, shouldn’t he knowthat Taako’s a—an accessory to mass murder?
And for all his grim work—grim work, ha, Taako’s cracking himself up—Kravitz is nice, andgentle, and sweet. He does things likesit with shell-shocked elves after time loops and laugh at little acts ofrebellion and splutter when Taako hits on him, and honestly Taako doesn’treally get his logic. Taako is the bombdiggity, of course, but Taako’s also rude and prickly and downright mean sometimes and that’s not the kindof person that matches up with Kravitz. He doesn’t understand what Kravitz wants. A date, sure. Maybe even a fuck, or two, and Kravtiz’s magically constructed body is apretty hot piece of ass so Taako would be fine with that.
But what the fuck else is Kravitz after?
Taako can hear Magnus’ voice in his head telling him thatnot everyone is after something, but just because Magnus is a big dumb lug whowears his big dumb heart on his big dumb sleeve doesn’t mean Magnus is right.
Everyone’s always after something, with Taako.
God, maybe Kravitz is just lonely. For all that he’s a fine figure, in his suitand…well, his skin, when he’s wearing it, there can’t be that many peopleinterested in chatting up an avatar of death, a vengeful emissary of the RavenQueen herself. And it’s not like he canjust go pick someone up at a bar, even if he had the free time—he’d still haveto explain that cold skin, and that would need to be one hell of a bluff.
That thought makes Taako feel a little steadier. His hands don’t shake when he puts away thenail polish and turns to his closet, which is strewn half across the floorbecause there’s honestly no point inbeing a wizard if he can’t use it to keep his shit from wrinkling.
Right, then. LonelyGrim Reaper. Taako can deal withthat. Besides, Taako hasn’t gotten laidsince before all this Bureau fuckery started—again, one hell of a bluff to pick someone up in a bar, and it’s not like themoon is that big—so he could stand tofuck a handsome semi-stranger in the Chug and Squeeze bathroom.
Or in his quarters, more likely. Kravitz seems like ‘public sex’ is probablyone of his hangups.
Whatever.
He and Kravitz can go out and drink and harass the potteryinstructor, and then they can fuck, and it’ll probably be good because Kravitzjust screams ‘considerate in thesack’, and then they can both go their separate ways and get on with theirgoddamn lives.
Taako waits to feel the weight of anxiety lift from hischest, but instead it just settles into his gut, sullen and thick. He shakes his head, trying to shake thefeeling away, and settles down to picking out some clothes that will get himlaid tonight. His hair will be easy, asimple braid, something that will come undone in a rush if he needs it to—heconsiders putting it up, maybe something effortless like a messy bun, somethingthat would show off his neck, but. No. Taako lets his hair fall fromwhere he’s holding it, looking away from the mirror as something kicks in his chest, like he’s seeing—likehe’s missing—like he’s—like—
The blue skirt will go well with his nails, he decides.
***
Kravitz shows up in the shared living room of the Reclaimerdorm at five minutes to nine, because Kravitz is a monster. Taako had enough time to kill that he’s alreadyset to go, but it’s the principle of the thing. Who the hell is that punctual?
Well, Taako allows with a little smirk, Death, obviously.
“Hi,” Taako says, flicking his braid over his shoulder, andKravitz looks up at him and smiles—fucking beams,really, and Taako really needs to stop hanging out with so many horrifyinglygenuine people.
“Hi,” Kravitz says, a little shy, tugging at his cuffs likehis suit is real and not just a convenient manifestation of his power. It’s a very sharp manifestation, though,Taako has to give him that, black and sleek with a pearly grey shirt and a darkred tie that makes him look a little livelier with its color. “You look incredible.”
“Obviously,” Taako sniffs, stepping over to Kravitz anddraping a hand over his shoulder, toying with one of the long dreadlocks at thenape of his neck. “But really, my dude,so do you. Do you even have to try tolook this fine?”
“It, uh.” Kravitzsmiles down at him, the red glow behind his black eyes warm and cheerful. Kravitz is tall, almost as tall as Magnus,and he has a whole head of height on Taako, but he doesn’t seem nearly as biglike this as he does in his skeletal form. “I’m happy to put in the effort for you.”
“Good answer.” Taakogives the lock in his hand a light tug—hey, might as well start as he means togo on—and makes a point to stroke his fingers along the curve of Kravitz’sthroat as he pulls his arm back.
Kravitz, of course, is incapable of blushing, because he’sdead. But he looks like he mightspontaneously develop the ability in order to cope. It takes him a beat to offer Taako hisarm—because Kravitz is a fucking gentleman—and allow himself to be pulled outof the apartment.
This is going to be a fucking walk in the park.
Drinks and pottery go very much the same, with quietconversation and Taako taking every opportunity he can find to get his handsall over Kravitz. It’s not ahardship. And besides, Kravitz is reallypretty funny, when he’s talking about things that aren’t his divine obligationto execute Taako and his—his coworkers. Taako learns that Kravitz was a bard, and that he can’t help the way hiseyes glow, and that he’s easy to embarrass.
It’s been about an hour and the two of them have split mostof a bottle of chardonnay when Taako sways over to Kravitz and rests his chinon the reaper’s shoulder, close enough that his breath stirs one of thedreadlocks closest to him. His lipsalmost brush the shell of Kravitz’s ear—faintly pointed, enough to render Kravitz’srace firmly ambiguous.
“Hey, thug,” Taako murmurs, shamelessly enjoying the way hefeels Kravitz stiffen against him in surprise. “Do you want to get out of here?”
He lets his hand wander up Kravitz’s thigh, just in case hismeaning was unclear. Kravitz doesn’ttake that as hard as Taako might have expected, but he also seems to havefrozen in shock, so maybe the two cancel out.
“I—are you sure?”
There he goes again. Being nice. Taako almost grabs his dick in the middle ofthe room in revenge, but resists the petty impulse in a show of purewillpower. He settles instead fortightening his grip on Kravitz’s leg, just hard enough to hurt a little.
“Do I not seemsure?”
Kravitz laughs a little at that, and it’s that easy. Kravitz lets Taako pull him outside and steala kiss in the shadows of the quad—Kravitz’s lips aren’t quite cold, just…cool,room temperature, and it’s a little like touching solid water with the way theyslide over Taako’s, and he can taste the wine and power. Magic like nothingTaako can recall, except maybe for the way that the relics leave a crackle ofsomething in the air after they’ve been used. Kissing Kravitz is something like that, maybe, like breathing in airthat’s had an enormous amount of energy put through it very recently, and whenthey separate and Kravitz looks a little rumpled, a little dazed, Taako feels arush of smugness unlike anything in recent memory.
Once they’re back in the Reclaimer dorm—Magnus is still outhitting things with Carey and Killian, and Merle is god knows where doing godknows what—Taako doesn’t hesitate to crowd Kravitz up against the nearest walland kiss him again. More aggressively,this time, tangling his fingers in the cords of Kravitz’s dreadlocks andsighing into his mouth when those broad cool hands came up to rest on hisback. Taako catches Kravitz’s bottom lipin his teeth and bites down, not quite hard enough to do damage, and Kravitzmakes a sound like a growl deep in his chest. It vibrates against Taako’s ribs where they’re pressed together and thesharp jolt of want takes him offguard for long enough to find himself pressed up against the wall in Kravitz’splace, with all of Kravtiz’s height caging him in, and it doesn’t feel likebeing trapped so much as being wanted.
It’s the first time that Taako wonders if he’smiscalculated, but then Kravitz lowers his lips down over Taako’s cheek and jawto the side of his throat and the thought is wiped away like someone fed it tothe voidfish. Somehow Kravitz taking theinitiative is a shock, as if Taako had expected him to be a novice at thiswithout even realizing it, but he doesn’t seem lacking in experience and Taakois profoundly enjoying the benefits of it.
“Fuck,” Taako sighs as teeth scrape against his skin,tipping his head and pressing a thigh up between Kravitz’s legs. He really should ask what Kravitz even is, ifthings like elf and human even apply to him, but whateverthe fuck gives him teeth like that, sharp and even, is a-okay by Taako’sbook.
“Taako,” Kravitz says into the pulse at his throat as Taako’shands busy themselves with the knot of his tie. “If your friends come back and we’re out here, they’ll be unhappy.”
Oh, right, Taako lives with people now. People who might possibly still want to hitKravitz with a war hammer over some limbs or some shit like that. It takes him a few moments to conclude that thisis a sufficiently serious concern to justify moving, because thealternative—letting Kravitz fuck him against a wall in the next fewminutes—seems far more compelling.
“Merle’s never happy,” Taako says, and Kravitz pulls away tolaugh as Taako sulks at him. This timeTaako really does grab his dick in revenge, reaches a hand between them andpalms Kravitz through his pants, and the way the laughter turns into a hissingcurse, a thoughtless push of his hips, is absolutely worth it. “Fine,” Taako says, magnanimous, and reachesup to loop both arms around Kravitz’s neck. “My door’s the second one. Youcan do the work, handsome.”
Kravitz chuckles again and complies, lifting Taakoapparently effortlessly, Taako’s legs coming up to wrap around Kravitz’s waistwithout regard for the indecent way it shoves his skirt up almost past hiships.
“Strong boy,” Taako muses, giving a teasing squeeze to oneof Kravitz’s biceps as Kravitz shifts his weight so that he can catch thedoorknob and open it. Inside, Taako snapshis fingers absently to wake the spark of magic in his lamp, shedding brightlight across the room at once. He wantsto see what it looked like, when one of the Raven Queen’s own elite comesundone in his bed.
“I execute necromancers, Taako,” Kravitz says with a smallroll of his glowing eyes. “I’m very strong.”
“Mmm,” Taako hums, and when Kravitz tries to set him gentlydown on the bed, he twists his weight to trip Kravitz down beneath him.
This, sitting on Kravitz’s lap and pressed up against himfrom hip to shoulder, is possibly even better than the wall, and Taako kissesKravitz again as he starts working on the layersof buttons in the suit. It’s aproduction.
“Why do you wear so many fucking clothes,” Taako muttersagainst Kravitz’s lips as he finally manages to wrestle jacket, shirt, andbraces off in one motion.
“Sorry,” Kravitz says, his hands—almost as warm as Taako’sskin, from contact—sliding up under Taako’s shirt, slowly, as if giving Taako achance to pull away. “Would you ratherthe cloak?”
“God, you’re such a fucking dramatic loser.” Taako ends his statement with a firm grind ofhis hips, and whatever Kravitz was about to say dies unspoken, swallowed by achoked sound as he closes his eyes sharply and takes a deep breath. His skin goes thin and transluscent over hischeekbones for a moment, the edges of a skull pressing through until he getshimself under control, and the high of that is palpable, better than anythingelse Taako’s ever tried, the high of having made a Reaper lose control withnothing but a twist of his hips.
When Kravitz opens his eyes, they glitter, and he pullsTaako’s shirt off over his head, a clumsy tangle of fabric for a moment beforethe shirt is gone and Taako learns some interesting facts about himself, amongthem that, apparently, the temperature thing is a Thing. He can almost taste the spark that jumps to his corewhen he presses up against Kravitz’s bare chest, almost cold against Taako’sflushed skin.
Wow. If he wasn’thard before, he sure as hell is now. That’s a thing that he didn’t see coming.
“Taako,” Kravitz says, almost gasps, like he needs air atall, against Taako’s shoulder, “I’ll need to get up to get my pants off.”
Taako considers just—just not moving, grinding down likethis and kissing Kravitz until they’re both stupid with it, coming half-dressedlike a pair of kids, but the appeal of seeing Kravitz naked is pretty strongtoo. He kisses Kravitz again, wet anddirty and deep, before he slides off and abandons both his skirt and his underwearon the side of the bed.
Kravitz is beautiful, Taako thinks somewhat fuzzily as hewatches him undress. Like, Taako isbeautiful too, don’t get him wrong, humility is for other people, but Kravitzknocks him out a little in a way that very few people can claim to havedone. It’s not just the symmetry of hisangular face or the way his tendons line his hands or the perfect vee shape ofthe bones at his hips, it’s also that he has something other about him, a statement worth making when you could hit abaker’s dozen races with a well-swung cat.
But that’s not to say that the muscles of his thighs and themotionless curve of his ribs and his cock don’t make Taako’s mouth water alittle bit. The latter, in particular.
Next time, Taako thinks idly as Kravitz kicks away hispants, Taako should put a little more planning into this, because he’d reallyenjoy having that inside him. As it is,he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t last long enough.
The thought almost brings him up short. Next time? There’s not going to be a next time. Taako already decided that.
“Are you all right?” Kravitz asks—nice, even standing there completely naked, he’s still nice.
“Fine, babe, all fine,” Taako says, and holds out ahand. “You planning to join me or what?”
Kravitz smiles and takes Taako’s hand and—fucking save him—kisses the knuckles as heallows himself to be pulled down onto the bed. Taako pins him down, and knows that Kravitz is letting him, and stopsresisting the urge to rub up against the cool silk of Kravitz’s skin, untilhe’s breathing hard and rambling and Kravitz is barely breathing at all.
“Taako,” Kravitz whispers, one hand coming up to tangle inTaako’s hair while the other reaches down to find their cocks, his hand bigenough to wrap around them both easily, and if the cool touch of his skin was ashock against Taako’s chest, it’s a fucking religiousmoment against Taako’s dick. Hedoesn’t even try to hold back the yelp, and reaches down to weave his fingersthrough Kravitz when it seems like he’s going to pull away.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Taako hisses.
“Are you sure, I know–”
“Kravitz, I swear to fucking—fucking everyone, I’ll burn aspell slot on your ass right now if you stop.”
He gets another laugh for that, faint and almost breathy. Kravitz is quiet in bed, mostly soft gaspsand moans when Taako does something he likes, once or twice that bone-rattlingrumble when Taako lays his blunt mortal teeth against Kravitz’s collarbone andbites down hard. But then he doessomething a little unforgivable—laughs and says, “All right, darling.”
Taako’s heart stops in his chest, and his mouth comes downso hard on Kravitz’s that he thinks he might be bleeding from where his teethhit his lip, but the kiss silences anything else Kravitz could say.
Kravitz seems taken off-guard when he comes, a little breathof ah escaping his lips as he goesstiff and his mouth goes still under Taako’s. His hand tightens around the pair of them, and Taako comes too, theworld popping with white lights at the corners of his vision as he shuddersthrough it. The world seems to havenarrowed down to Kravitz, his hand around Taako’s cock and his fingers inTaako’s hair, resting against his neck, the places where his skin is warm fromcontact, the taste of wine and magic on his lips.
By the time Taako comes back to himself, blurry andblinking, his head is bowed down to Kravitz’s shoulder. The hand is still at the nape of his neck,looser now, lax, and Kravitz’s other hand is resting on Taako’s hip, thumbdescribing an arc over the line of the bone, like Kravitz is happy to just…liethere, feeling Taako’s weight on him and not doing a thing about it. There’s a scar on Kravitz’s chest, just belowTaako’s cheek, like someone put a spike through his heart—the only mark onhim—and it makes Taako feel almost special to be so close to it, like Kravitzis sharing something with him.
Taako gives himself a few minutes of that, of the wayKravitz noses kisses into his hair and strokes gently over his skin.
It’s…nice.
Kravitz is nice.
Taako doesn’t let himself think about that anymore as herolls to the side with a sigh and casts Prestidigitation to clean up. He also doesn’t let himself think about theway Kravitz’s fingers lingered in his hair, or the soft warmth in those red-liteyes.
“Thanks, bubbeleh,” Taako says, plastering on his bestgrin. “Call me later, or whatever.”
Kravitz looks bemused. Oh, fucking god, he’s actually going to make Taako kick him out. “Taako?”
“This was fun, we should do it again sometime,” Taako says,ignoring the way that weight settles back into his belly, ignoring the way theback of his mind kind of wants to curl into Kravitz’s side with a blanket overthem, ignoring the look of confusion shading to hurt on Kravitz’s face. This was just sex. Just physical. There’s no reason for Kravitz to look likeTaako’s personally cancelled Candlenights.
Kravitz seems to be getting the picture, though, because heslowly sits up, propped up on one hand. “I—Ican go,” he says, like there’s an offer there, rather than an impliedoutcome. “If you want.”
“As opposed to what?” Taako arches an eyebrow at him. There’sa moment of silence as Kravitz studies him, his head cocked at an angle, tryingto parse something, and Taako waves a languorous hand at him. “It’s all right, thug, I’m not gonna take itpersonally.”
“I’m sorry,” Kravitz says, falling back into stiff formality,and he does a remarkably good job for someone still sitting naked in Taako’sbed. The look of confused hurt has beenerased, his face a politely emotionless blank. “It’s been some time since I did this. What are you not taking personally?”
Ah, right. Kravitzhas been a wandering skeleton bounty hunter since forever. Culture clash or some shit.
“I knew what I was getting into,” Taako says, keeping hisface cheerful. “Just sex, right? And don’t get me wrong, the sex was prettyfucking choice, I’m happy to do that again whenever you have a few hours free,but you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings or whatever.”
“Oh,” Kravitz says, quietly, and he stands, waves a hand,and his clothes sort of knit themselves back into being on his body, even histie perfectly knotted at his throat.
He tucks both hands into his pockets, straightening up untilhe looks as forbidding and untouchable as he did the first time they met, hiseyes the only trace of any emotion as they linger on Taako’s face for a momentbefore they flicker away. He bends downto catch Taako’s hand in his, and kisses the knuckles again—something lurchesinto Taako’s throat, words throwing themselves at his teeth from behind, someuseless stupid hey maybe you could stay,I could make you breakfast, did you know I’m a chef, and he bites them backmercilessly.
“If you ever need anything,” Kravitz says, still quiet, “callfor me.”
And then he gestures for his scythe and tears open the worldwith the blade, and he’s gone.
Taako lies down on his back and stares at the ceiling. This is the easy thing to do, this is what heknew was going to happen. Hell, giventhe circumstances, this might even have been the right thing to do.
So why does he feel like he just betrayed someone?
***
Taako’s not one for stewing. He’s not one for sitting and brooding and worrying about hisproblems. He’s a master of the art oftaking any inconvenient emotion and kicking it off the nearest available cliff,never to be seen or considered again, because who has time for feelings, thesedays? A Relic hunt would be excellent right about now, somelife-threatening shit to take his mind off everything, and by the time they gotdone being healed by someone other than Merle, he would have forgotten allabout this. He would be more focused onwhether their fighter was finally going to kick the bucket—Taako needs a meatshield, all right, he’s a delicate little magic user, so if Magnus could livepast the age of forty for Taako’s sake, that would be amazing.
Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a convenientlyapocalyptic artifact surfacing any time soon. If anything, things are calmer than usual, like the other two Relics aresquirreled away in some dark dungeon rather than out causing trouble. The mood on the base is bright and confident,riding high on their successful rescue of Refuge, totally lacking in thetension that usually precedes a recovery mission. Carey and Killian and Noelle spend all theirtime bounding cheerfully through the halls like baby deer. Johann cracked a smile and laughed at a jokelast week. There was a party on thequad. Taako’s pretty sure he saw theDirector relaxing.
It’s loathsome.
It’s three days before Magnus asks Taako what’s wrong. Taako rebuffs him easily and pawns him off onMerle, but it sticks with him. Magnus isan empathetic guy, but he’s not a genius, and Taako’s not supposed to haveanything wrong to ask about.
Five days after hooking up with Kravitz, Taako finds himselfin the Icosagon. Training.
Taako does not train. Beauty of Magic Missile: his aim doesn’t evenmatter. Area effect spells are his bitch. His ability to Fireball someone in the faceis entirely unrelated to his abilityto do pushups, Magnus. Wizards do not train, they read some books and blow some shit up and call it aday. Sometimes Taako deigns to do someactual calculations in order to maximize a spell’s efficacy, but that’s hislimit.
So when Taako realizes he’s halfway through a short swordtraining form that he barely remembers, he stops and considers that he mightneed to actually take steps to deal with this situation.
It’s just…he keeps thinking about that quiet oh as Kravitz stood up and it’sbothering him. He’s not really sure why it keeps coming to mind, butwhenever he stands still and silent for a few seconds, it plays through hishead like a Fantasy Vine, a handful of seconds that just don’t quite makesense.
Kravitz had gotten what he wanted, right? Company, affection, a roll in themetaphorical hay. So who the hell gavehim permission to look at Taako likethat as he said oh and stood up toleave, is the real question here.
In Taako’s experience, the only real solutions to hisproblem are to get incredibly drunk or to actually interrogate the man himself. In theory he could also just leave but avoiding the Grim Reapersounds like it would require a bit more effort than just wandering off the sideof the base. Magnus and Merle wouldprobably come try to hunt him down, regardless.
And if he’s being totally honest he’s already tried thealcohol. Avi brings the good shit tocompany parties.
“Yo, Krav,” Taako says, casting Levitate on his Stone ofFarspeech and giving it a flick to set it spinning. He’s back in his room, with his feet proppedup on a desk that has never seen a scrap of Bureau-mandated paperwork and neverwill, if Taako has anything to do with it. “You busy, my dude?”
There’s a pause, long enough that Taako wonders if maybeKravitz isn’t near the Stone, before a voice answers.
“Taako?”
Kravitz sounds hesitant, and there’s a lift at the end ofTaako’s name that sounds like hope and kind of makes Taako want to throw theStone across the room and run.
“Who else, bone boy?”
“What can I do for you, Taako?” Kravitz’s voice goes steely, and he asks, “Areyou in trouble?”
“What? No! I can go more than a week without gettingsucked into some kind of weird timeline bullshit, fuck you very much, and plusI have a Magnus for solving trouble, it would be cruel to deny him the chanceto…hit stuff.” There’s a huff ofamusement on the other end, and a quiet shuffling sound. “Krav, thug, I really gotta ask, does theGrim Reaper do paperwork?”
“Of course I do paperwork,” Kravitz says, a littleaffronted. “Do you know how much work itis to keep files on necromancers and liches and whatever the hell you threeare? Don’t you have to do paperwork forblowing up towns?”
“Magnus does paperwork,” Taako says, leaning his chair backon its rear legs. “Sometimes I sign itif he asks real nice. I dunno who doesMerle’s shit.”
“I should have known.” It sounds like Kravitz is smiling. Taako’s chest heats a little, a piece of charcoal flickering into anember, and shit, that’s not what he’s doing here. “Also, it would be more accurate to call me a Grim Reaper.” The warmth in Kravitz’s voice fades, and thefire in Taako’s chest follows. “Is there…didyou—was there anything in particular that you wanted?”
“Yeah,” Taako says, and Magnus would be proud of him, hereally would, because Taako just fucking goesfor it, just rushes right in before he can think better of it. “You want to come by? Like, are you free right now? To come to the moon?”
“Sure,” Kravitz says, and there’s a rustling sound, papersbeing moved around, before the Stone shuts off.
It’s barely a minute and a half later that the world ripsopen and Kravitz steps through, skin raveling itself into place over the smoothwhite bones of his skull and hands, his cloak fading away into his usualsuit. The rift closes behind him, andKravitz is just standing there, hands in his pockets, looking unsure.
“Hey.”
“Hey, handsome,” Taako says, letting his chair thud backinto place. “You want to do something?”
“Something—like what?” Kravitz isn’t an especially outgoing person, particularly since Taako’smajor points of comparison these days are a proselytizing cleric and the mostabsurdly friendly individual he’s ever known, but he seems more guarded thanbefore, almost like he’s expecting Taako to throw a spell at him again. But he did come, when Taako called.
God, people were so much easier when Taako was younger. He doesn’t really remember what changed—maybedoing the show made him overconfident—but he knows that when he was younger henever felt this clumsy and fumbling.
“Everything all right, Krav?” Taako asks, arching an eyebrowat him.
“Fine,” Kravitz says, and hesitates for a moment, and thenhe meets Taako’s gaze for the first time. “I don’t want to sleep with you,” he blurts out, fast, all in a rush,like he’s been planning it. “Or, I mean,no, yes, I do, but not—I don’t—I think you’re confused? About this?”
Taako opens his mouth with a fast retort, then snaps itshut, because he’s…he’s not sure what Kravitz is expecting from him there. He makes a little go on gesture with one hand instead.
“I thought—I thought I had been pretty clear that yourbounties have been suspended,” Kravitz says, rocking back on his heels like hewants to pace but doesn’t know if it would be permitted. “And Refuge is a nonissue, we already talkedabout that, so unless you and your friends start doing necromancy in your freetime, you’re not under my purview. So—soI don’t want you to think that you’re making some kind of trade, here, with me,all right?”
“Some kind of—hang on, do people try to seduce the Grim Reaper? Wow,”Taako muses, “I’ve got to admire that kind of confident crazy.”
A smile, faint but genuine, flickers over Kravitz’sface. “Every once in a while someone triestheir luck. Although having someonebypass any sort of seduction check and go straight for threats of tentacleporn, that was novel.” The good humorfades, and Kravitz just looks tired and…lonely, Taako decides. He’s spent a lot of his life feeling lonely,he knows what it looks like. “And I don’twant you to be with me because—because you’re scared of me, or because youthink I expect something in order to keep your bounties suspended, or–”
“That, um. Thatactually didn’t occur to me,” Taako interrupts, because Kravitz seems more thanready to keep up his nervous ramble indefinitely. A surge of guilt rushes through Taako’s chestat the open relief on Kravitz’s face, and he sighs. “I just—I just figured this was a casualthing. Company, sex, not much else, youknow what I’m saying.”
“Is that what you want?” Kravitz asks, and the light behindhis eyes brightens as he focuses on Taako, until Taako imagines that he canfeel the weight of his stare, as cool and invulnerable as Kravitz’s handsaround his scythe. “Company and sex andnothing else?”
“Hey, you know me, Taako’s easy.” Taako waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll take whatever. What about you, thug, what do you want?”
Kravitz looks distant for a moment, then sits down on theedge of Taako’s bed, so that they’re facing each other, closer to eyelevel.
“I really like you, Taako,” he says, and the sincerity inhis voice makes Taako want to kiss him, or maybe cast Blink and escape to awhole other plane—except, of course, that Kravitz is Kravitz and could probablyfollow him. “It’s been—it’s been a reallylong time since I had mortal friends, let alone anything else, and I wasn’tmuch good at this while I was alive, either.”
“With that face?” It’s wildly inappropriate given the tone, butoh god Taako can’t help himself,there’s no way that Kravitz wasn’t absolutely spoiled for choice during hislife.
Kravitz grins a little, reaching up to touch his cheek andjaw as if reminding himself of what he looks like. “You’d be surprised.”
“Oh, I’d be fucking shocked,homie,” Taako says thoughtlessly, one hundred percent of his brain fullyoccupied with Kravitz’s words.
I really like you,Taako. What the fuck is a personeven supposed to do with that.
“Taako,” Kravitz says, and Taako snaps back to the presentmoment. Kravitz sounds like he’s maybesaid Taako’s name a few times. “I just—ifyou’re not interested in dating me, you don’t have to worry about telling me,but I’d rather you be honest.”
“Are you,” Taako says slowly, lining up the same thoughts hehad before the date in a different order, “interested in dating me?”
Kravitz tips his head and says, “For someone so brilliantlytalented, you can be a bit dense.”
“Thank you.”
“Taako, you’re charming, and beautiful, and funny, and youhelp save the world. Of course I’minterested in dating you.” Kravitz looksdown at his hands, where they’re laced together in his lap, and he rubs a thumbup the line of a metacarpal, something that’s almost a nervous tick. The pressure drags a line of white bonebehind it, until his dark skin knits itself back together. “I would understand, of course, if you’relooking for something more casual. I’mjust…I’m not built for it.”
God, Taako can’t deal with this. This level of honesty is going to make him break out in fucking hives. The way Kravitz glances up at him through hislashes, a tiny spark of hope in the black of his eyes, is like taking a MagicMissile straight to the chest.
“So, what, you want to hold my hand and cuddle and shit?”Taako demands, and he means it to come out harsh, but instead it sounds almostfragile.
“If that’s okay with you.”
Taako scoffs. “You’rea fucking sap.”
“Well, don’t tell anyone,” Kravitz says. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
And then he offers Taako his hand, palm up, harmless andinviting. I really like you, Taako. It’sbeen a long time since someone made an offer like that, and it went so horrificallywrong last time Taako accepted more than a one-night stand.
But Kravitz is nice. And honest. And he’s alreadytried to murder Taako and the others and then taken steps to make sure he doesn’thave to do it properly, which is a selling point, these days. Half of everyone Taako knows has tried tomurder them, by accident or as a test or just because the three of them were inthe way.
More than anything, though, Kravitz doesn’t say anything,doesn’t press, just sits there with his hand out as a silent offer, waiting forTaako to decide.
Kravitz’s hand is cold, still holding the chill of theastral plane. Taako adds one more thingto his list of Grim Reaper Facts: his fingers fit perfectly with Taako’s.
#taakitz#taako x kravitz#taz#the adventure zone#taz fic#starlight writes stuff#otp: i'm about to tentacle your dick#lalalalalalala i spent two days on this#don't tell me if it's terrible because i like it#i am satisfied#this is the fastest i've ever written a smut fic in my entire life#but yeah anyway that exists#it's on ao3#also yarndarling i got your ask and i'll put the other one on ao3 too so you can cite it#i came out of this with a lot of very serious kravitz headcanons#like#a lot#i like the idea of him being the wonderland twins' little brother for pain reasons#but i also know that's not considered canon by word of god so my headcanons also work for non-wl-brother krav#i love him so much#and taako i love taako to bits and pieces#i really hope i did taako's speech patterns all right#ya boy's speech patterns are a pain in the motherfucking a s s#but i tried my hardest and that's what counts#fun fact i am magnus burnsides but very short?#i want to do a magnus cosplay but i'm 5' and idk if i could pull it off#anyway here's wonderwall#lathori#asked and answered#taz balance
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Singing in the Moonlight Ch 13: Dream a Little Dream of Me
Hey yall. I’m on a roll!! Just in case you didn’t know we just hit the halfway point with the last chapter so this baby is coming to a close soon. In the meantime please enjoy this mountain of family feels that I’m throwing at you. Also if anyone wants to draw baby Meena getting her nails painted I will love you forever.
When Johnny dropped Meena off at home later that day she practically sprinted up the walk to her house, bursting through the front door in pure, unadulterated excitement. She dumped her backpack in the entrance and dashed down the hall in search of her mother. The dining room was empty, and her grandparents were both glued to the TV in the living room so she got away with a small greeting rather than a detailed play by play of her day. Next she tried the kitchen where she finally found her mother lazily washing dishes in the sink and humming along to a soft tune that came from the small radio in the window.
Leslie turned around to find her daughter standing in the doorway, her eyes bright with excitement and her cheeks flushed a happy red, “Hi honey. I saved you some dinner-“ she started to say but her words were quickly drowned out as Meena tackled her into a tight hug and began talking with such excitement and fervor that for a moment Leslie wondered if this was truly her mild-mannered shy daughter. She was talking so fast that her words blended into a verbal mush that Leslie couldn’t make sense of. Instead she returned the tight hug and bestowed a little kiss on top of Meena’s head for good measure.
“Alright, alright. Calm down honeydoll I can’t understand a word coming out of your sweet mouth.” Meena stopped babbling and smiled sheepishly at her mother, her cheeks taking on a deeper red hue of embarrassment mixed in with that same boundless excitement. Leslie couldn’t banish the smile off her face if she tried her hardest, seeing her sweet girl so happy and excited about something had always been her desire. Every parent wanted their child to be happy but Leslie couldn’t help but think that she wanted it more, Meena deserved it more.
When Meena fell silent she raised an eyebrow and grabbed her still steaming cup of hot cocoa from the counter so she could sip at the molten chocolate heaven, “Alright now why dontcha tell me what’s got you so worked up.”
“Mom! Oh my gosh Mom!” Meena gushed and Leslie smothered her giggles in a sip of hot chocolate.
“Johnny….” Leslie perked up at the gorilla’s name, quickly setting her cup aside as every part of her hoped for the news that she had been waiting for since her daughter came home mooning over the gorilla with the honey voice and sweet disposition, “…he asked me out!”
Leslie immediately squealed in happiness and swept her grinning daughter up into a tight hug as she spun her around the kitchen. When she finally released Meena her smile had yet to fade, rather it had grown with the encouragement of her mother’s excitement.
Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"
Birds singing in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me
Leslie let out another excited squeal and spun around to grab Meena’s favorite mug from the cabinet, quickly filling it with hot cocoa and marshmallows.
“Oooh I’m so excited. Tell me everything.” She shoved the mug into Meena’s hands and resumed her stance against the counter, waiting eagerly for her daughter to dish out the details as she demanded. Meena opened her mouth to start her story when suddenly Leslie pushed herself off of the counter and peeked around the corner into the living room where her parents were still glued to the TV, although it looked like her father was about to fall asleep.
Still a whirl of excitement she grabbed her daughter by the elbow and practically dragged her up the stairs and into her room. She winked at Meena’s confused expression and practically skipped over to her daughter’s bed. Meena just stood there for a second, looking at her mother in what seemed like exasperated surprise before she smiled eagerly and ran over to join her on the bed.
The mattress let out a squeaky protest as she bounced on it but she paid it no mind and instead cuddled up next to her mom to tell her story.
“He came to see me at work mom. I wasn’t expecting him but it was so nice to see him and he looked so nervous it was just…” She let out a happy little sigh and Leslie felt like her heart was just going to melt in her chest, she was so happy to see her little girl in love.
“Sooo what happened next?” Leslie eagerly asked and Meena rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her mother’s probing but quickly resumed her tale.
“Well he asked me to go to the park with him and of course I said yes because I love that park and I would pretty much follow him everywhere. And oh mom he linked our arms and even bought me ice cream like a gentleman.” Meena grabbed her pillow and buried her face in it for a second, trying to hide her persistent blush.
“Awwww baby girl that sounds just like him. What a sweet boy.” Leslie encouraged her daughter who looked up at her with the smile of a girl who had been successfully wooed.
“And we watched the clouds and talked and then well….” She gulped and looked up at her mother, “I took him to Daddy’s bridge.”
Leslie felt herself stiffen at the mention of her deceased husband but the smile never left her face. The warm feeling in her heart now had a sad little tone to it as she realized that Meena hadn’t been back to that bridge since her father’s death and now she was sharing it with Johnny. Obviously this boy meant more to her than just a simple crush.
Meena watched her mother for any adverse reaction, and though she caught the sad look in her mother’s eyes, Leslie reached out and clasped her hand, squeezing it to let her know that it was alright and to continue.
“He took my hand Mom and he stumbled through the most adorable and confusing confession that I have ever heard. To think he didn’t know he already had my heart. And then he asked me to dinner and I said yes!” She squealed and Leslie gathered her up into another one of her bone-crushing hugs
Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me
“Oh sweetheart I just knew that one day that boy would get the courage to ask you out. It’s a mother’s instinct.” she winked when Meena just rolled her eyes in disbelief. Leslie released her daughter and leapt to her feet, dashing to the door and clapping her hands in excitement.
“This calls for a celebration. I’m gonna go order us some Chimpese food, you get the spa kit.” She winked at Meena who immediately gasped and perked up. They hadn’t had a mother-daughter spa night in years since her mother had to get a second job and take care of her parents. There just never seemed to be enough free time in the day for her to do more than work, eat dinner and go to sleep.
Leslie knew that she should probably go to bed early since she had a dawn shift the next morning, but this was a special night for her daughter and their was no way that she was going to miss it. Besides, she could use a little relaxation herself, and losing a few hours of sleep wouldn’t damage her that much.
When she looked back and saw Meena eagerly gathering her nail polish and face mask supplies she knew that she had made the right decision. Even though Meena was almost an adult and fairly self-sufficient, Leslie took comfort in the knowledge that she was the first mammal that Meena went to with life-changing news like this. Her eyes teared up with motherly pride and she hurried downstairs to find the house phone and their stash of secret Chimpese takeout menus. Takeout had always been a secret indulgence that she and Meena shared so she had their order memorized without nothing but a glance at the familiar, slightly crumpled papers.
After she had placed in her order she hurried back upstairs and found Meena looking over her small nail polish collection, trying to decide on a color. Leslie gave them a glance before picking up a soft lilac color that practically screamed Meena’s name. She dangled it in front of her daughter with a knowing smile and set it aside.
“This color looks great on you baby. And we want you looking your best for your date.” Meena’s eyes widened and her blush resurfaced at the mention of her upcoming date, but Leslie could tell she was doing so out of excitement by the secret smile that was fighting its way onto her face.
“Now pick one out for me while I get the face mask’s ready.” Meena accepted her mission with a nod and Leslie picked up the special elephant mud masks that they had bought a long time ago and squeezed the contents of two masks into a large bowl. She mixed it up and then brought it back over to where Meena was waiting.
She proudly showed her the bright red polish that she had picked out for her mother and Leslie immediately recognized it as the shade that she used to wear when Meena was younger. She gave Meena a watery smile and set the bowl down on the bedside table.
“Perfect honey. I’m… I’m gonna go change into my pjs and you better do the same. We wanna be comfortable for this right?” She winked at Meena who giggled and wandered over to her dresser to find a pair of pjs. Leslie hurried to her room and slipped on her favorite nightgown and plush robe.
On her way out of the room she stopped by her mirror where a picture of her and her husband was gently stuck in the frame. She pulled it out and slipped it into her pocket, hoping that somehow it would bring her husband closer to their daughter tonight.
When she returned to her daughter’s room, Meena was perched on her bed in her favorite constellation pajama set, impatiently waiting for her mother to return. Leslie barely had a second to admire how grown up her baby girl was before her daughter was calling her over urgently.
“Hurry Mom. The mask mix is starting to harden.” She huffed and Leslie held her hands up in surrender as she made her way over to the bed and dipped her hand in the mix.
“Close your eyes baby.” She said softly and Meena quickly complied so that her mother could spread the cool mud mixture over her face. Leslie smiled softly to herself as she diligently spread the mixture over Meena’s face covering every inch of her daughter’s skin with her expert hands. When she finished she pulled back and Meena opened her eyes to reveal those striking blue eyes that reminded her so much of her husband. Her breath caught in her throat for a second before Meena decided to shatter the solemn mood her mother had fallen into by grabbing a handful of mix and splattering it over her mother’s face playfully.
Leslie gaped at her laughing child as she slowly wiped the mix off of her eyelids and spread the mess over her own face, “Oh you’ll pay for that one later little missy.” She threatened but Meena just smiled and tried to look apologetic as she carefully covered the rest of her mother’s face. Leslie didn’t buy it for one second.
Once the masks had set Meena went about painting her mother’s nails, her tongue stuck out in concentration as she focused on getting each nails to look perfectly, delectably bright red. Leslie just relaxed and watched her daughter as she worked, filled with mountains of love for her precious girl. And when Meena looked up for approval, she didn’t even have to look at her nails.
“They’re perfect honeybee. Now get over here and let your momma do your nails.” Meena eagerly traded positions with her mother and Leslie shook up the lilac paint before opening the bottle and delicately dragging the brush over her daughter’s nails. Ash she painted each nail she flashed back to when Meena was just a little calf, wriggling impatiently while Leslie painted each nail a beautiful purple. And then when she had finished, her little girl had marveled at her now colorful hands before looking up at her with the biggest, brightest smile and innocent blue eyes.
“Thank you mommy.” Those word sin a sweet baby voice had cut straight through her and even now as Leslie sat back and inspected her handiwork, those same words, this time said in the soft voice of her grown daughter, had the very same effect.
“Thanks mom.”
“Of course baby girl.” She said, hoping to God that Meena didn’t hear the thickness of her words, the emotions behind each one. Thankfully Meena didn’t seem to notice, instead fixing her with a smile that seemed infinitely brighter when surrounded by the dark mud mask. Leslie felt tears pricking on the corners of her eyes again and she quickly stood up, going over to Meena’s bathroom to wash off her face mask. Meena quickly followed her example and once they were washed clean Meena settled back on her bed and Leslie wandered over to her daughter’s closet.
“Now what should we pick out to wear?” Meena grinned and took up a cross-legged position on her bed, eagerly awaiting her mom’s suggestions.
Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this
Almost as if the universe was providing her with a break from the emotional roller coaster that was their spa night, the doorbell rang. Disregarding her mud mask and her robe, Leslie hurried downstairs and opened the door for the delivery mammal. The young pig that was waiting at the door, precariously balancing the elephant portions of Chimpese food gaped at her for a second before stumbling his way through a greeting.
Leslie let out a laugh, both at his flustered state and at herself for answering the door looking like she did. She gratefully took the food and gave the delivery boy a twenty, telling him to keep the change. The young pig eagerly hurried away from their house and back to his motorbike as Leslie closed the door and hurried upstairs with her prize.
Meena snatched her food from her mother as soon as she got back in the room and eagerly dug in with the chopsticks that were included with each meal. Leslie had gathered her raging emotions back under control and settled down next to her daughter to eat. They didn’t say much as they ate, a comfortable silence settling between them until Leslie finally set aside her carton and returned to her daughter’s closet.
“Back to business.” She joked and Meena giggled through her mouthful of noodles. They went through several outfits until they had finally settled on a pair of dark jeans, a loose white button up with thin black stripes and little purple flowers sprinkled all over it.
As Meena watched her mother hang up the outfit where she could easily find it, she had the sudden urge to ask her mother something that she had never asked her before.
“Mom?” She asked softly and Leslie hummed to let her know that she was listening as she fiddled with the shirt, trying to keep it from getting wrinkled, “What was it like… when you and dad started dating?”
Leslie froze right in her tracks and stayed facing the closet, her breath quiet as she argued with herself about how she should answer the question. She could either brush it off and leave the pain for another day or she could endure that hurt and share with her daughter what true love felt like when she was young. All it took was one look at her daughter’s uncertain face in the mirror for her to make a decision. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, reaching into her robe’s pocket to produce the picture of her and her husband.
Slowly she made her way over to where Meena was waiting tensely for her mother’s answer. Leslie silently sat back in the pillows and opened her arms for Meena who immediately dove into her embrace and cuddled up to her mom. Leslie handed the picture to Meena who delicately cradled it in her hand and looked at it curiously. She desperately set about memorizing the smile on her dad’s face, and the pure love that radiated from both of her parents in that one little photo before handing it back to her mom.
“When your daddy first asked me out he was a nervous wreck. I don’t think that he would have known his own name if you had asked him.” She chuckled through her tear-thickened voice and both of their gazes stayed glued to the photo.
“He took me to see a new monster movie. He knew how much I loved them so he saved up for a week just so he could buy us both tickets and snacks. When he rolled up outside my house in that old jalopy of his your grandfather was… less than enthusiastic to say the least.” Meena smiled softly, perfectly picturing her grandfather analyzing her father’s every move.
“I got all dressed up and if I remember right your dad even wore a dress shirt and a tie with his jeans. It was the most dressed up he ever got besides our wedding and if he had his way he would have married me in a pair of workman’s jeans.” Leslie chuckled and swiped at the tears that snuck down her cheeks without her permission.
“He stuttered through every answer to your grandpa’s interrogation and when we finally escaped he opened the door for me and helped me into the car like a gentleman. He paid for everything at the movies and even though we sat in the back row he didn’t try anything with me. The most he did was sneak his arm around my shoulders near the end of the movie and I had to damn near tell him to make a move.” Meena giggled along with her mother, trying to picture the calm, stoic man that she had known as a fumbling mess of a teenage boy.
“When we got home he walked me up to the stoop and then… well everything in the entire world stopped for that one moment. I knew he was too nervous to do anything himself so grabbed his hand and I kissed him. And then there were fireworks. I felt like I was in the Fourth of July because they were everywhere and my heart was trying to jump out of my chest.”
Meena looked up at her mom in amazement, watching as her eyes glazed over slightly as she stared at nothing, obviously buried deep in the memory. Meena’s heart ached for her mother but at the same time she felt a new rush of love as she learned about her parents’ beginning.
“That’s when I knew that he was the only one for me.” Leslie almost whispered, the tears running freely down her cheeks, creating salty tracks on her skin. Meena didn’t have any words for her mother but instead she just hugged her tight and let her mom cry silently for a few minutes. When Leslie finally pulled back her eyes were red but she was smiling as she stroked Meena’s face.
“I’m so proud of the mammal that you’ve become Meena, and your daddy would be too.” Meena sniffled and nodded silently, closing her eyes as her mother kissed her forehead and let her lips linger there for a moment longer.
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me
Their moment was broken when Meena was suddenly afflicted with a large yawn that quickly passed on to her mother. Leslie smiled down at her and helped her under the covers, tucking them around her like she had when Meena was little. She kissed Meena’s forehead and stepped back to look down at her daughter as Meena sleepily returned her gaze.
“I love you so much baby girl. Sweet dreams.” She whispered as she gathered up their food cartons and backed out towards the door. As she shut off the lights she heard Meena’s soft reply.
“I love you to Mom.” And then the door was shut and Meena was alone in the dark, staring up in contemplation at the glow stars that decorated her ceiling. She couldn’t help but wonder what life would have been like if her father was still alive. Would she have still met everyone at the Moon theater? Would she have met Johnny? And if she had met Johnny, what would her dad think of her date? Would he like him? Would he have been protective like her grandpa?
Unfortunately she did not have the answers, despite how much she yearned to know, and her thoughts slowly faded into a general fuzzy fixation on her father as she slipped into a deep sleep.
Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this
Meena found herself back in the park, watching herself lead Johnny through the trees towards her father’s special spot. She blinked rapidly in confusion, trying to make sense of why she watching herself from above instead of from her own perspective.
She tried to shift her gaze, look around, but instead her view zoomed in on her and Johnny as he took her hands and stumbled through his confession. She couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, not that she needed to. The words were burned in her mind forever and she would never forget. She watched herself say yes and felt her chest burst with such warmth that she was immediately lulled away from any fear or trepidation that might have lingered from her odd viewpoint.
Suddenly that warm presence burst from her chest and took shape next to her, revealing a familiar face that she only ever saw in photographs. Her father was leaning casually against the railing of the bridge, smiling at her with such happiness and love that she could barely breath. She rushed over to him and slammed into him with all of her might, hugging him tightly, determined to never let go.
His gentle hand trailed a warm path over her hand and down to her back where he soothing rubbed circles on her shoulder blades. Meena was torn between bursting into tears and smiling so hard that her face would break into a million pieces so she opted to smile up at her father while tears streamed down her cheeks.
She tried to speak but nothing came out no matter how hard she tried, so she resigned herself to holding in all of her questions and enjoying her father’s presence for as long as she was able. Her father glanced over to the scene that they both had been watching and she felt a burst of pride and love in her chest.
She put a hand over her heart as if to acknowledge that the feelings were the only way that her father could communicate with her. It was as if he had heard her questions and had come just to give her answers. His hand suddenly cupped her cheek and his warm lips bestowed a kiss on her forehead that reminded her of every time he would kiss her good night or greet her when he came home.
He pulled back and gave her a wink that made her laugh and swipe at the tears that stubbornly continued to stream down her cheeks. Her father smiled one more time and then pulled her into his warm embrace once more until she was completely surrounded, swathed in his love and carried back to her bed.
Meena awoke clutching her pillow like a lifeline, her face buried in the soft fabric as silent tears soaked through her pillow case. She let out a shaky breath and sat up slightly, looking around her room for a minute, half expecting her father to appear out of nowhere and tell her that it wasn’t a dream, that he was still looking out for her wherever he was. But the darkness revealed nothing.
Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you
Gotta keep dreaming leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
You gotta make me a promise, promise to me
You'll dream, dream a little of me
Meena didn’t let herself stay discouraged by her lack of answers, rather she clung to the pillow once more, letting her covers simulate the warmth of her father’s embrace and her pillow pretend to be his solid chest embracing her. For a mere moment she felt it once more, that loving warmth, the familiar scent of her father, and then it was gone once more, its only mission to reassure her of what she had seen, what she had felt.
Her father had come to her to show her that she had no reason to worry. He obviously approved of whatever made her happy and Johnny filled her with such happiness that there weren’t even words to describe it. Satisfied with the evidence that her fears were assuaged and that her father loved her she settled back down onto her side and closed her eyes once more.
“Goodnight daddy.” She whispered into the empty room and when she fell asleep she was filled with such excitement and contented calmness that she hadn’t felt since her father was alive. Her breathing evened out and she dove back into dreams, only this time her face was adorned with a smile that was practically brighter than the sun.
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#sing the movie#johnny x meena#meena sing#meena's family#singing in the moonlight#dream a little dream of me#beware the feels#they creeping up on you
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chp. five
warning for: hinted at panic attack, hints of past mistreatment/abuse, hinted at ptsd
It’s nearing lunch time and Jeongguk feels like he’s suffocating from the constant onslaught of meetings with potential clients. He has to pretend that he doesn’t want to choke these people to death, a sadistic smile on his face, and go home to Tae. Sweet, beautiful Tae who’s probably waiting for him on the couch, watching cartoons while munching on some of the fruit Jeongguk cut up for him this morning, Froggy held against his chest.
Malia rolls her eyes when Jeongguk shares a particularly detailed and violent fantasy involving Gregory McCartney, a story artist at B2B Animation Company, who is being sued for copyright infringement, and subtly blames her for having to deal with an obviously guilty and also very immature forty-five-year-old man-child.
“Don’t whine,” she says, looking at him with a bored but also slightly judgemental look, which makes Jeongguk question why he hired her to be his assistant.
“I'm not whining,” he snaps, then begins re-arranging the papers in front of him while they’re waiting for their next meeting to start. “I'm just saying that these meetings are useless and it shouldn't even—”
Malia sends him a look, then pulls out her phone, seemingly already done with the conversation. “You can’t just send all the cases you don’t like Seokjin and Namjoon’s way. That’s unfair and unprofessional,” Jeongguk begins to interrupt, but his assistant raises her finger at him just as Hansol Song, CEO of SM Recordings, enters the meeting room.
Jeongguk grits his teeth and smiles.
Jeongguk is annoyed and he makes a mental note to have a talk with Seokjin and Namjoon regarding the cases they’ve been not so subtly nudging his way when another one of Hansol Song’s booming laughs fills the meeting room. They know he doesn’t work civil cases, especially when he has to defend the guilty party, yet all of today’s cases are either civil or he has to defend the obviously guilty party.
Looking at his watch, with voice calm but firm, Jeongguk interrupts Hansol Song’s chatter. “Mr. Song,” the man looks at him, his chatter ceasing, and a frown appears between his brows. “I’m sorry to say that I must put this meeting to an end,” Jeongguk smiles, his professionalism impeccable even with the pressing need of a break and a cup of coffee. “You’ll be notified when my partners and I have decided who will be handling your case.”
Song doesn’t look satisfied, but he also knows not to comment on it if he wants his case to be handled at all. Jeon&Kim Law Firm are known to reject cases because of demanding clients or those who try to bribe them with more money.
"Yes, of course," Hansol Song says, looking a bit flustered. He stands up, putting on an unnecessary show with that and gathering his things. "Here's my business card with my personal—"
"Ah, yes," Jeongguk takes the card from his and then passes it along to Malia with a pointed look. Malia smirks and tucks the card between some papers, no doubt planning on throwing it out as soon as Song is out of view. He's one of the stuck up ones, who think they're too important and mighty, when in fact, Jeongguk's never heard of him (and it is his job to know all the important people.)
"What an ass," Malia comments when they're outside the meeting room, watching as the elevator doors close with Hansol Song behind them.
Jeongguk grunts in agreement, but he's already forgotten about the man. He’s learned to let insignificant things go, and Hansol Song is as insignificant as they come.
"How did the meeting go?"
Jeongguk glares at Namjoon when he sees him by the coffee machine, and the other laughs at his expression, probably finding the situation hilarious. Jeongguk scoffs.
“You’re a child,” he says, taking his cup to fill it with coffee. “did Seokjin put you up to this?” He asks, already knowing the answer.
Namjoon’s dimples are prominent and he’s wearing his maroon suit today. He looks intimidating, but to Jeongguk he looks like he’s trying a bit too hard. “We both hate Song,” he offers as an explanation. Jeongguk shakes his head.
“So you tossed him my way instead? You know I don’t do civil cases.” Civil cases are ridiculous most of the time and a waste of effort the rest of it . Jeongguk would rather be defending a rape victim than a CEO who’s interfered with his employees’ work contracts.
“You just think civil cases are beneath you,” Seokjin pipes in as he rounds the corner and Jeongguk’s scowl deepens. “ O h, Jeon almighty.” He mocks a bow and both he and Namjoon laugh.
"There are people who need me more than stuck up CEO's who think they can buy their way through life," Jeongguk calmly explains, leaning back against the wall, studying his partners who annoy him to death on a good day, but who he wouldn't exchange for the world. They have a complicated friendship.
"Don't you have a meeting?" Seokjin says instead of continuing their little disagreement, making Jeongguk curse because yes, he has a meeting, damnit.
He’s in the middle of his last meeting of the day with one of his better clients, Robert Andersson, a victim of domestic abuse, when his phone rings, interrupting him mid-speech.
He ignores it, expecting it to stop after the second ring, but it doesn't.
“Please excuse me,” Jeongguk says, apologetically, but Robert waves him off with a slight smile, telling him not to worry about it.
Everyone knows that if Jeongguk’s phone rings, then it’s an emergency, so no one really minds when he excuses himself once in awhile , for which Jeongguk is grateful because he always leaves his phone on during meetings. He never knows when Tae might need him. H is little is more than capable of taking care of himself when Jeongguk is at work, but it never hurts to be prepared and ready to spring into action when needed.
His phone hasn’t stopped ringing by the time Jeongguk leaves the meeting room, making worry wake inside of him .
They have a code for when Tae needs to call Jeongguk and he’s at work. If it’s not an emergency (which it usually isn’t) he dials Jeongguk’s number, waits to hear the dial tone twice, then han g s up and waits for a callback. Most of the time the Jeongguk calls him back instantly, though there are occasions where he’s busy and can’t get back to him until later . Tae is such a darling on those rare occasions and waist until Jeongguk frees himself to call him, something which doesn’t take more than half an hour. Usually, when something like this happens, Tae gets a new nail polish, glittery eyeshadow or a lip gloss as an apology along with extra cuddles, kisses, and playtime with Daddy . They make it work.
Though when there is an emergency, Tae knows to not hang up and keep calling until Daddy answers, which usually happens on the third ring. There have only been two other separate occasions where Tae has called in an emergency-- once when the neighbor’s dog had managed to jump over the fence to their backyard and claw at the door (Tae had been so scared and in near hysterics when Jeongguk had gotten home) and another time when he fell and hit his head against the coffee table and had bled a little.
Jeongguk hopes with all his being that it’s nothing serious this time around and that his baby is okay, because if he isn’t —
The thing is, Tae’s judgment on when something is an emergency and requires immediate attention and when it can wait until Jeongguk is home is a little questionable and even though they’ve had lengthy discussions about it, he still struggles with his judgment on when it’s time to call Daddy. So, when his phone continues to ring after the second ring, Jeongguk knows something is wrong, and he can just hope it’s nothing too dangerous.
He slides his finger across the screen, and while keeping his voice as calm as he possibly can, he asks , “Tae, is everything — “
“Jeongguk,” comes a choked reply that has Jeongguk’s blood running cold. His heart stutters in his chest and he’s moving before he even realizes it, strides long and urgent. “Jeongguk, I — “
“It’s okay, love, it’s okay,” he says and motions to Malia to deal with Robert, who’s still waiting for him inside . She takes one look at him, his eyebrows furrowed and nods, hurrying inside the meeting room, no questions asked. “Just breathe, okay? Everything is going to be fine, I’m on my way,” he continues talking, his hands shaking slightly, curled around his phone in a deathly grip. There’s sudden silence on the other end, a surge of panic, and, “Taehyung, just breathe, okay? And stay with me, don’t hang up, I’m on my way. Don’t h ang up.” He then hears Taehyung’s shaky breathing and a choked off ‘okay’. It calms him a little, but not by much. No, he won’t feel calm until he has Taehyung is his arms and knows he safe.
“Can you tell me what happened, love? Are you hurt?” he enters the elevator, aggressively pressing the parking level button in hopes of making the elevator go faster.
“Tae was — he was getting a snack,” Taehyung starts, his voice thick and wobbly. “and he didn’t — he didn’t see the coffee cup on the counter and he accidentally knocked it over and it fell and broke and — “ he’s speaking too fast and he’s so close to hyperventilating Jeongguk feels desperate to be there, to help and make sure he’s safe and okay.
“Breathe, breathe,” he shushes the other instead. “it’s all right. Accidents happen all the time, yeah?” he looks up at the display above the door. 14 more floors. “Accidents happen,” he repeats, “but the important thing is that you’re safe, yeah? Are you still in the kitchen?” he asks, already expecting confirmation from the other end because Taehyung didn’t sound like he was in any condition to move or do anything the moment that cup shattered on the ground.
“Yeah, I’m in the kitchen,” he says, sounding calmer than a minute ago, his breathing still jarred but more even. “I’m…under the sink,” it’s said in an almost whisper and Jeongguk’s heart breaks at the same time as red, hot fury and hatred takes of him, and a deep want of wanting to wrap his hands around the person who made Taehyung fear even the sound of ripping paper.
“How about you stay there until I get back, and then we’ll figure everything out together. How does that sound?” Jeongguk all but sprints to his car the moment he’s on the parking level, fingers pulling out his keys from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
“That sound good,” Taehyung and he sounds calm now, which makes Jeongguk feel less like his heart is about to beat through his chest in panic and fear.
“That’s good,” there’s a moment of silence before Jeongguk confesses with a smile Taehyung cannot see and a deep chuckle, “it’s been awhile. I’ve missed you.”
Taehyung laughs, deep and smooth and there’s a bit of shuffling, of him getting more comfortable, before he says, “I’ve missed you, too.” They both laugh at that and if the whole situation wasn’t heartbreaking it would probably be beautiful.
The house is quiet when Jeongguk arrives.
The TV is on and still playing, Tae’s plushies on the floor. “You can come out now, I’m here.” He says into the receiver, and It only takes a second for the little doors under the sink to open and for Taehyung to come crawling out and fling himself at Jeongguk, his tears and heartbreaking sobs renewed.
Jeongguk shushes him while kissing the side of his face and running his fingers through his hair, barely fighting his own tears which are clouding his vision. He blinks them away. He has to stay strong for Taehyung.
They stay like that for awhile, Taehyung’s smaller frame shaking with sobs against Jeongguk’s bigger one, and when it becomes apparent that he won’t be calming down anytime soon, Jeongguk bends down slightly, hooking his arms under Taehyung’s thighs to hoist him up, much like he would do with Tae. Taehyung’s legs wrap around him automatically as Jeongguk walks them to their bedroom, all the while murmuring words of encouragement to Taehyung who’s face is hidden in the crook of his neck.
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Louis Erard X Alain Silberstein Excellence Regulator Limited Edition Watch Review
Louis Erard and Alain Silberstein’s collaboration on this Excellence Regulator was welcome news last year for anyone who is a longtime fan of the iconic designer/watchmaker as well as for new collectors who took a liking to the colorful geometric design housed in a classic regulator. A fun piece that is actually wearable, I’m a big fan of the Excellence Regulator in large part because it nails the balance between expressiveness and restraint. Louis Erard and Alain Silberstein avoid falling into the “novelty trap” and have created a limited edition piece that distills the designer’s best style in a thin case with modern finishes and refinement. I spent time with the black PVD stainless steel model with black dial, but there is also a stainless steel case model with white dial. Each is limited to just 178 pieces.
Alain Silberstein
Silberstein was an architect and interior designer when he decided to start his eponymous watch brand in 1988. Fun, playful, and often way over the top, Silberstein’s brand created his immediately recognizable designs through 2012. Sadly, finding collectors who appreciated this particular brand of whimsical and colorful design at not inexpensive prices was quite difficult. In fact, I’d venture to say it’s still quite difficult.
PS If you’re not too familiar with Alain Silberstein (the brand), this huge Artcurial auction from a couple of years ago has the 142 watches sold with images, descriptions (though they may only be in French…), and final sale prices.
Yes, Silberstein’s designs have clear Bauhaus roots with Kandinsky’s abstract art being a clear point of inspiration. I also see a lot of László Moholy-Nagy, the Hungarian painter who was foundational to the Bauhaus school, particularly with the pieces that highlight his fascination with the technology of the time. The works Perpe, The Great Wheel, The Bicyclist, and Y (all from between 1920-1921) feature abstract geometric shapes but also depictions of wheels as symbols of dynamic movement. These are particularly apposite works to discuss especially when we consider that Silberstein refers to his watch designs as “kinetic art.”
There is also a connection to Kazimir Malevich who founded the Suprematism movement in the early 1900s, as well as others in this school such as El Lissitzky. This Russian movement focused on geometric shapes, though bright, loud colors were not a defining characteristic. This is where I see the influence of Joan Miró as well as the great De Stijl artists like Mondrian and Vilmos Huszár. Finally, Keith Haring comes to mind as well.
And, while there is no direct connection to be made, I really believe that the work of animation studio Klasky Csupo in the 1990s was adhering to the same colorful, geometric design ethos that drove Silberstein.
The Regulator
Regulator clocks were developed in the 18th century as a way to keep time as accurately as possible by having a central minutes hand with hours and seconds hands shown on sub-dials. The regulator layout is still commonly, though not frequently, seen in brand collections from Patek Philippe, Laurent Ferrier, A. Lange & Söhne, and Vacheron Constantin to Oris and Tissot.
Two brands that are inextricably associated with the regulator are Chronoswiss and Louis Erard, albeit occupying different price categories, as I believe Chronoswiss’ entry point is about $4,000. Louis Erard doesn’t exclusively produce regulators (neither of these brands does, but they’ve both come to be indelibly characterized by them) but the Excellence collection has benefitted the brand greatly by offering something few others do in the ~$2,500-$3,000 range. Having handled my share of Louis Erard pieces over the years, they do excel in quality and attention to detail. Even if the market for someone seeking an affordable regulator to add to their collection is self-selecting, I suspect I was one of many, many people lusting after the Alain Silberstein collaboration when it was announced late last year.
The Excellence Regulator Design
Ironically, this collaboration with Louis Erard is the first regulator designed by Alain Silberstein. I say it’s ironic because the fragmented layout of the dial on a regulator is ideally suited for Silberstein’s colorful, geometric designs. Looking at some of Silberstein’s previous designs, there aren’t too many examples of time-only pieces that for me hit the “just right” spot where his quirkiness matches the medium (in this case, watch dials). Time-only models like the Rondo Nomade or Klub Medio leave something to be desired while something like chronograph Krono pieces shine.
With the regulator, Silberstein was able to create a time-only watch that let him create a deconstructed dial that is actually pretty legible, even with an offbeat layout and Silberstein’s eclectic design language. I chose to review the black dial model since it’s the one I prefer, though it was very close (let’s say 52-48) when compared to the white dial. I think the yellow seconds squiggle on the white dial strains my eye a little and that was the deciding factor.
The red triangular hour hand, squiggly blue seconds hand, and the clean diameter of a yellow arrow minutes hand are all quirky but also do their job legibly and intelligibly. This oftentimes can’t be said with more traditionally designed dials that take design heritage seriously, while spectacularly failing at their singular purpose (due to general illegibility, poor contrast against the dial, over-polishing, short hand length, or a bevy of other reasons).
I think the dial has just enough going to still be fun each time I look down at it — I smile nearly each time, which does not happen frequently, as anyone who knows me can attest — while avoiding being too much of a novelty. In fact, I think the Louis Erard x Alain Silberstein Excellence Regulator could very easily be a regular wear that’s in rotation alongside more traditional pieces. The same thing can’t be said for, let’s say, something like the (now-defunct) Romain Jerome Super Mario Bros. watch. One is both fun and wearable, the other is a madcap novelty meant for occasional wear.
Of course, the wearability doesn’t just have to do with the tastefully zany dial but the case, as well. Unlike many of Silberstein’s own creations and the aforementioned Romain Jerome, the Louis Erard collaboration is conservatively sized and designed. This is crucial in the success of the watch since a loud case design would firmly plant it into the novelty category.
Rather, we get a highly versatile and wearable watch that measures 40mm wide and 8mm thick, with a lug-to-lug height of exactly 46mm (water resistance is 50M). Hell, forget a suit, if there’s an occasion that I have to wear a tuxedo (with a mask, these days), I’d consider pairing it with this black model. I know there are many readers who wouldn’t be caught dead in that pairing, but I’m already grinning thinking about it. While I actually find the habit of “wacky socks/tie” to be a bit tired, I find that boldly styled/colorful eyeglass frames or a watch like this one can be the most thoughtful and effective ways of adding a little bit of self-expression to a buttoned-up environment.
ETA Peseux 7001 + Louis Erard RE9
At 9 o’clock, you can see the power reserve indicator, which helps round out the dial design while letting you know how much power the manually winding watch has left. Turn the case over and you’ll first notice the only Alain Silberstein branding on the piece, and I think most would agree that this was a much better call than having it forced onto the dial. You also get a view of the ETA Peseux 7001 with Louis Erard RE9 complication movement. Personally, I’d probably prefer an enclosed case back that would further act as a canvas for Silberstein’s designs but that’s just me building castles in the air.
The base 7001 operates at 21,600 vph and has a 42-hour power reserve, with the RE9 module adds the regulator display and power reserve indicator. Fortunately, the module does not add much thickness overall, which would be a huge bummer, as I have come to find the slenderness of the 8mm case an integral part of why I enjoy the watch so much.
By this point in the article, I’ve made it clear how much I enjoy the Louis Erard x Alain Silberstein Excellence Regulator. This watch is a perfectly conceived and executed work of whimsical watchmaking from one of the truly great original minds in watch design. Of course, it will not appeal to wide swaths of the general public, but that really means nothing when it comes to appreciating the product in the metal. Plus, there are only 178 pieces in each of the two variants being produced. Price for the Louis Erard x Alain Silberstein Excellence Regulator is 2,800 CHF in stainless steel with white dial and 2,900 CHF in black PVD steel. You can learn more at louiserard.com.
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Quarantine Life Lately
I think I’ve officially lost track of how long we’ve been self-isolating…and for those of us in NY, there seems to be no end in sight. I’m so grateful to have a job that I can do from home, but I’d be lying if I said that this virus outbreak hasn’t altered the scope of my work. While some of you have mentioned that you welcome the distraction of personal style posts & pretty spring fashion, I also realize that we are living in a very different world right now & I want to share content that is both practical & helpful for navigating these circumstances.
So, today’s post is more lifestyle-related & I’m sharing what I’ve been up to lately – including the tastiest meals I’ve made, the workouts I’ve been doing & the best things I’ve purchased since quarantine began. Hopefully this gives you some new recipes to try, fun activities to do & simple ways to make this time of staying at home a little more enjoyable!
THINGS I’VE BEEN BUYING
All these are exclusively from Target & Amazon because they have the quickest delivery available (so many other retailers have delayed shipping right now). I love utilizing the order pick-up option at Target & I’ve discovered that many of their items actually have special deals/lower prices when you do it this way – for example, I can get my favorite coffee for $2.00 less! Here’s the best of what I’ve bought over the last month:
Ribbed Crewneck Tees My t-shirt drawer has been needing a little update, so I was happy to discover these cotton/modal blend tees. They are so soft & stretchy and the ribbed detail gives them a more refined look (perfect for dressing up or down). These come in 11 different colors & they’re on sale now – I bought two in blush brown & white (not see-through at all!). These are a little more fitted than your average tee, so I’d size up if you prefer a looser fit.
Acrylic Stackable Organizer Drawers Quarantine provides the perfect opportunity for organizing…and since we have the added benefit of packing for our upcoming move, we’ve been purging a lot and working to identify what we need to maximize storage space once we’re settled with my parents. I bought some of these clear drawers, which are ideal holding vitamins, first aid items, toiletries or makeup – you can set them side by side or stack tall & they come in two different size options.
Healthy Snacks Who else feels like they are snacking constantly while stuck at home? I’ve learned that if we don’t have healthy options on hand, I will end up eating my kids treats (hello, leftover Easter candy). So I am trying to keep a constant stock of my favorites like this grain-free granola (so good with fresh fruit & yogurt), these roasted pistachios (no shells to hassle with) & these cheddar cheese crisps (pairs very well with red wine!).
Posture Corrector File this under things I should have bought years ago. I cannot tell you what a difference this has made & how much it’s helped me to stop slouching & hunching over my desk all day long. It’s comfortable and you can wear it under or over your clothes – I put mine on around 9am & take it off at 3pm.
Reusable Silicone Straws I love that these are color-coded & come with their own carrying case so everyone in the family gets one. These come with a little cleaning tool, but I usually just throw ours in the dishwasher. We typically keep these in the car for easy access on-the-go – although we haven’t been going out much lately, I know these will come in handy on our cross-country trip in a few weeks.
Wireless Charger As soon as the kids started doing school from home, we realized that we didn’t have enough chargers for all the devices in the house during the day – and, let’s be honest, we were getting a little tired of hearing them argue over who had a lower battery life and needed it more. So we bought two of these wireless chargers and put one on the main floor & one upstairs near their bedrooms. It’s such a great price & is compatible with most devices (works for AirPods too!).
Geometric Earrings + Straw Headband I used to love walking through Target to just browse their new arrivals & try things on…but those days are gone, so now we have to do it all online. When I was buying the tees mentioned above, I needed a little more to add to my order, so I threw in these fun accessories at the last minute and I couldn’t love them more! Both of them are 5% off right now when you use Target Circle (sign up for free here).
Adult Coloring Book + Colored Pencils We’ve been trying to get creative with family activities since quarantine started – challenges be an ordeal or an adventure…so we are doing our best to focus on the latter & make fun memories for the kids. We’ve done outdoor scavenger hunts, game olympics, fitness challenges, and our new favorite: art night. I ordered coloring books on Amazon for everyone – my son got this Harry Potter coloring book, my daughter got this summer scene coloring book, my husband got this muscle cars coloring book & I chose this street style coloring book for myself. We turn on some music & sit around the table while we talk, laugh & color together – it’s the perfect activity for those rainy evenings when we can’t go for a family walk.
Core Sliding Discs I’ve definitely been buying more workout equipment over the last month & these are the latest addition – try them for an effective core workout like none other! These are double-sided so you can use them on hard floors or carpet. If you don’t already own resistance bands, there’s a great combo pack with sliders here. This is a great reference sheet for different moves to try with them.
Elastic No-Tie Shoe Laces These are a game changer if you’re like me & have been wearing sneakers more lately. Just take out your regular laces & replace with these and you’ll have shoes that you can easily slip on & off! After I bought mine, I ordered some for my mom & dad since they have a harder time bending over now that they’re older. These come in 22 different colors & would also be great for little kids!
Silicone Stainless Steel Tumbler We’ve been trying to do a family walk after dinner each night when the weather is nice – it’s such a great bonding time and the dog loves it when we’re all walking him together. Since it’s usually a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood, I’ve started bringing my wine along with me in this sleek tumbler. It’s vacuum insulated so it’s great for hot or cold drinks + the lid keeps your drink safe from splashing out.
Expressie Nail Polish So many of you have messaged me asking about at-home manicure tips and I think this video is the best tutorial I’ve seen (I use the same techniques when I paint my nails). I recently picked up these new polishes to try & was amazed by how fast-drying they were! They have a slightly angled brush, which I think is so much easier to use. I got the shades Second Hand, First Love and In A Flash Sale (perfect for spring!). Right now, Target has a promo where you can get a free bottle of nail polish remover when you buy two of these.
Pixi Eye Patches I’ve mentioned these before but I just ordered more on my latest Target order pick-up because I’ve been using them so much. They really are the best eye patches I’ve ever tried for depuffing and hydrating. Highly recommend!!
Olly Energy Gummies I don’t know about you, but I’ve had the hardest time with my energy levels lately (probably doesn’t help that we’ve been staying up much later than usual since quarantine began). I’ve sung the praises of this brand for years so I decided to try these gummies to see if they would help. I’m chronically low in B12, so it’s a supplement I need anyway + this flavor is so good. I definitely feel like I’m more motivated to get going & able to focus better throughout the day.
MEALS I’VE BEEN COOKING
If there’s one thing that quarantine has forced us to do, it’s to have more meals at home. If you’re like me, you’re probably running low on ideas. I’ve been trying out tons of new recipes and, to be honest, there have been some hits & misses. So I thought I’d share with you the ones that my family has loved & that we’ve now added into regular meal rotation at our house. These are all gluten-free and most are Whole30 compliant too!
Vegan Creamy Cauliflower Wild Rice Soup Comfort food at its finest – this is so creamy, you won’t believe it’s dairy-free! I serve this with a side salad & these almond flour crackers.
One-Skillet Spinach Artichoke Chicken I made this for the first time when I was in Oregon for Christmas with my family & it was a huge hit! You can serve it over mashed potatoes or mashed cauliflower.
Paleo Fish Tacos This is my Dad’s favorite recipe of all time – he asks for it weekly! I buy the Siete Almond Flour Tortillas and heat them up in a small pan until they get a little crispy (if you’re not GF, you can use whatever brand you prefer). I recommend using slightly less sparkling water than is called for, so the batter is thicker. I serve with homemade guacamole & these chips (also love these for a grain-free option).
Slow Cooker Honey Garlic Chicken There’s nothing easier than a good crockpot meal – just throw everything in, set the timer & forget about it! This is so easy & delicious – I recommend doubling the sauce ingredients so you have extra. I also modify this a bit and use Coconut Aminos instead of soy sauce & this unsweetened ketchup (you can add more honey if you prefer it a bit sweeter). I serve with jasmine and/or cauliflower rice & French green beans.
Crispy Zucchini Fries This obviously isn’t a meal in & of itself, but these are such a tasty side dish! I make them when we have burgers & they get devoured. I use this ranch dressing (if you’re dairy-free, this is a good alternative).
Mexican Pizza This tastes so similar to the Taco Bell version I grew up eating – definitely a more indulgent (and filling!) meal, but so worth it if you have a craving for Mexican food. Her sauce recipe is amazing & I’ve ended up using it for homemade enchiladas too! I double the recipe for our family & use Siete Almond Flour Tortillas for myself and these white corn tortillas for everyone else.
Maple Walnut Crusted Salmon This sounds & looks so fancy, but it couldn’t be more simple. My kids aren’t huge fans of salmon, but they gobble this up. If you don’t have walnuts, you can substitute pecans (I did this last week & it was just as delicious). I serve alongside Japanese sweet potatoes & roasted broccoli.
Black Pepper Chicken This tastes just like Chinese take-out…without the guilt (or MSG)! And don’t worry if you don’t have fish sauce on hand, it’s just as good without it. I serve this with jasmine rice and/or cauliflower rice.
Honey Mustard Sheet Pan Chicken & Brussels Sprouts I love this meal because it’s quick & easy and you only have one pan to wash when you’re done! I recommend cooking the chicken for about 15 minutes before adding the Brussels sprouts (unless yours are very large) – mine were smaller & ended up a little overcooked when I made this the first time. I also double the sauce to have some extra leftover (trust me, it’s so good!).
WORKOUTS I’VE BEEN TRYING
Active by PopSugar This site has over 500+ workouts & you can join for free! They have pretty much everything you could want – yoga & pilates, dance, high intensity cardio, low-impact exercises, boxing & barre. There’s a good range of 20-60 minute workouts & most don’t require any equipment (the 60-minute cardio boxing is my current favorite).
Modern Savvy Run Club My blogging BFF just launched a running club challenge that starts May 1st & I’d love for you to join us! Just download the Nike Run Club app (it’s free) and request to add Alyson Seligman as a friend. Once accepted, she will send you the invite to the challenge, which is to complete 30 miles by May 31st. Even if you’re not a runner, you can jog or walk the miles – it’s a great way to stay motivated to move a little each day & get that accountability that we all need right now!
Madeline Moves I just discovered this sweet girl a couple months ago and, once quarantine began, she started sharing at-home strength training workouts on her Instagram. I’ve created a workout folder & saved all of them so I can reference them easily – you can choose whatever weight works best for you & I like that she offers modifications for certain moves. Other Instagram accounts that I like to follow for workouts: Alexia Clark, Cara Loren & Megan Roup.
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Quarantine Life Lately published first on https://skinalleyupdates.tumblr.com/
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Charlotte Josephine
CJ Two ways of writing: having a plan and not. Inspired by everyday life. Writes little but often then puts the pieces together like a puzzle. - Confidence - Reading and language - Watching alot - Space and respect Write a list of colours: Pink Purple Green Red Brown Yellow Orange Blue Chocolate bars: Mars Twix Kit Kat Galaxy Bounty Kinder bueno Bathroom cupboard: Toothbrush Deodorant Tampons Toilet roll Perfume Sun cream Tablets Teenagers bedroom: Plates Cups Bed Dressing table Clothes Shoes Straighteners Lady handbag Make up Tampons Purse Phone The pill Paracetamol Book Diary List of fans as tic lies I need to feed my fish My bus was late I need to see my Nan I find it easier when no one else is in the room to do my presentation You're my fave I love you A list of things todo when embarrassed Go toilet Bite nails Put the focus on someone else Go red Shit myself Play with my hair Look at my feet Leave the room Pretend you don't care Think of being in bed/comfort zone A list of BIRTHDAY cake wishes I want to meet Harry styles I wish for a someone to love me I wish for concert tickets I wish for money I wish for everyone to be happy I wish for no arguments I wish to have the people who mean most, forever I wish for my friends to come home from uni I wish for a mini A list of things that terrify us Spiders Losing my friends Being hated by everyone Not going anywhere in life Disappointing my family Death The unknown My pets dying Never having kids Getting pregnant at the wrong time Throwing away something I didn't realise was important. A list of things you'd find on a summer holiday: Factor 50 suncream A burnt ginger Alcohol Books People awake at 7 to put a towel on a sunbed Tanned people Lost languages A list of hiding places: My bed My car Millie's house The park Under my bed Behind a door I'm a hole Under the stairs Anywhere dark The green room Aunty jos house The library Things never said to a parent I smoke You're child is a Cunt You raised you're kid shit I've fucked your daughter I hate you Places to stand when the sea is rough In bed Somewhere where there is no sea On a boat In the sea with a snorkel Pavement Masculine or feminine things Blue Pink Muscles Hard labour Giving birth Emotions Trust someone: Raw Honestly Hearing what you don't want to but need to Having my back when I'm not in the room Being there when I need them most Answering the phone Going along with my lies Meeting your girlfriends parents for the first time: "Hi John nice to meet you, yes this is your daughter, yes she's wearing my top and no, she hasn't got shoes on because she was at mine last night not at Chloes like she said and yes that is my cum in her hair" - as if I'm going to say that out loud as my first words to John but it's definitely what's running through my head rn... how about a simple hello and hand shake, that could work right? But I don't want him to think I'm too formal.. fuck. Right that's it I'm not going. I don't understand why first impressions are always hard. When In actual fact it a simple hello. Everyone seems to always over think it. Ofcourse I want to make a good impression but I'd much rather not lick his ass hole because a year down the line he's going to know the real me and know I was putting on this front to impress him. Why can't I go in with the simple "alright mate, I'm your daughters new boyfriend, I respect her a lot fuck on a daily and think she's fucking hilarious" but nah got to respect that although he knows that the hand he just shook has actually be all over his daughter... he's thinking, I'm thinking it, might as well say it right? But instead I go with the, "nice to meet Mr Smith, I'm Daniel" "do I work?" Well yeah in a bar one day a week I'm still a student.. "still a student at the age of 21... living of mummy and daddy still then?" Why the fuck do I need to be questioned about what I do as long as what I'm doing makes me happy, I'm living my life not you. Blake: Age: 21 Cats or dogs: Dogs Live: house in leatherhead How do they spend their days: High as a kite writing music for the homeless. What is a smell that calms them: Petrol Three words to describe them(mum): a little podgy, good boy, likes candles Happiest on holiday: Florida At 8 he wanted to be: Fireman Item of clothing wear too much: Adidas original jumper in Kaki Phrase to often: but think of the homeless man Secret: I have a kid Roll model: my nan Fave drink: Redbull Vodka and Lime Lost virginity: his family friend Louise at 18 (he begged her init) On his own he dances to ballets Deeper secret: he is a professional ballet dancer Parents : mum is his world dad is a rich wanker Place: His studio, his workspace but also his hobby, he has his own chair (that no one else can use) others can join him but not use his chair. There is a hidden mirror for when he wants to practise ballet. Blue dim to the room - no windows. Constant music playing, there's a window to the booth that has a sticker of his dog and nan on the right hand corner. Smells like hard work, has a little can of petrol hidden under his desk where is chair is for when he gets stressed. There a aircon unit that always makes a slight noise of fresh air coming into the room. Everything is black apart from the lighting. Wearing something unusual: he's wearing a leotard under his clothes - it quite tight but he likes it, no one can see it but he knows he's wearing it. Smells fresh out the packet never had one before but always envious when watching professional ballet people wear one. I didn't mean todo it, it just... *sitting in his studio* staring at his hidden mirror - reveals it from behind its curtain. Looking at himself in his new leotard practising first position. A 1,2,3 second 1,2,3 first 1,2,3 second 1,2,3 first... *phone rings - it's zain* Wag1 Blake I'll be outside in 2. Blake: gets dressed quickly, hides his 'ballet for beginners book' and sits in his chair.. zain opens the door "oiiii wag1 G what you saying" Blake realises the mirror is still on show.. "shit" Madting when did you get a mirror in here..." B:"errrm yesterday init... it's for..." Z: it looks sick bro, makes the room feel massive.. Zain sits down Z: "oi you heard this new tune" Plays some bad man song Blake tries to release his wedgie that his leotard is giving him.. Zain is oblivious keeps mixing music Blakes burst out "I didn't mean todo it, it's just one day I saw your sister...." Z: "what do you mean my sister..." Blake: it just she was standing there in her leotard and it got me... Z: got you what bruv why you looking at my sister in a leotard bruv are you a pedo or something Blake: wait what... Z: staring at my sister whilst she's dancing wtf if wrong with you Blake: no no bruv it's not like that.. I wasn't looking at her because she had no clothes on.. I mean very little clothes on and don't get me wrong she looked fit init but" Z"what the fuck do you meeeeeeaaaan, what didn't you mean todo stare at her fat peachy beautiful ass" Blake: wait what... Z: forget get that... Blake: nah it's just I was fascinated Z: fascinated by Me and An old man in an army uniform We are in a very busy train station on a Monday morning I want success But there is a shark in the way I'm a busker, I've tried making it in acting, I've tried making it in dance and now singing but here I am... Monday morning the busy crowd is coming and I'm playing my guitar... people chuck coins and pennies and some cunt chucks a button... all I've ever wanted is success.. all I ever need is success but my success and the worlds are completely different, I just want to be heard, respected and a warm house to go home to, to see my loving family. I see an old man approaching.. he's wearing a uniform shit do I need to run? My license doesn't cover this station... I start packing my away my equipment, collecting my scraps of money... I look up again and he's just standing there... his uniform looks worn but well kept, badges glistening.. his boots are shinny and still smell of polish. He chucks a £50 note in my case.. "I tried to make it one time too but the army called for me instead" I stare.... my heart still racing from preparing to out run the Feds... He reaching out a hand to help me up... I take the offer, my hands trembling from adrenaline. BOTH HAVE THE SAME SHARK TATTOO. Fish tank This is England Shane meadows I really enjoyed Charlottes workshop as she opened my mind to write everything and anything and atleast one of them if not more will blossom. You don't have to have an order or a reason when you first start just start. I find writing terrifying, I'm always cautious that it won't have a good ending, beginning or even an interesting plot but Charlotte made me feel so comfortable to just write. Going forward I definitely will write down any ideas even if I leave them for months and revisit them with a fresh mind. Overall when it comes to writing my own script I will not give up and I will accept mental blocks and stop to allow my brain to breathe. Watching films and TV series really inspire me to help build characters however Charlotte opened my eyes to embrace what is happening in the moment day to day, as well as through books and seeing live theatre. There is never too much detail to a character or a place.
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