#adds to the north star facade

[dalvs-wife]

can you tell i love shapes

[mpileons]

behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader

> chapter two

A/N: this is the first fic ive written in a while so bare w/ me as i get back into the motion of writing :) also construction criticism & suggestions are always welcome <3

+ this going to be a multi chapter story, please patient w me and ill try to make it worth your while :,)

—

Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.

Word Count: 1.9K

Chapter 1

A Year Ago —

It all started on a regular Wednesday, I was getting ready for my morning shift at Lever & Bloom. It was all very normal, I woke up extremely late as per usual, and had to rush out of my apartment complex without doing my hair or my makeup which was once again, per usual.

As 10am hit, I was getting into the motion of making drinks and chatting with customers. Although being a barista is quite a mundane job, I thoroughly enjoy every part of it, especially talking with the regulars and forming those relationships that never fail to bring a smile to my face. As I went to take my break, I saw a distinct blonde head of hair enter the cafe premises. Everytime she enters the cafe (which is very often) my intrigue seems to rise more and more. She seems to always come in at 11 on the dot, every weekday. Not that I’m keeping track or anything. Definitely not. Conveniently, as she goes to the counter I decide to save my break for later. Definitely not anything to do with her.

"One large ic-" The tall blonde starts to speak, but I'm quick to interrupt her. "A large iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, I know, it's coming right up," I say, a small smile creeping onto my face. I turn to see the same expression reflected on her face, a shared moment of understanding passing between us.

For some reason, I feel an impulse I can't ignore. With nervous yet hopeful determination, I grab a napkin and hastily scrawl down my number along with her order. With trembling hands, I slide the napkin across the counter, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"Thanks," she murmurs, her voice soft and tinged with warmth as she takes the napkin. I watch her as she takes a seat by the window, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waits for her drink.

My heart starts to pound in my chest, anticipation mingling with apprehension. What if she doesn't text? What if I completely misread everything?

I push all the thoughts out of my head as I prepare her iced americano, my hands tremble slightly, betraying the calm facade I try to maintain around her. When it's ready, I take a deep breath and walk over to her table, setting the drink down with a shaky hand.

"Here you go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she can't hear the rapid thumping of my heart that I'm sure is about to explode.

"Thanks again," she replies, flashing me a dazzling smile that sets my heart aflutter. And then, to my surprise and delight, she adds, "By the way, I'm Alexia."

The sound of her name sends a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but return the gesture. "Nice to meet you, Alexia. I'm Y/N," I say, hoping she can't hear the increasingly rapid thumping of my heart.

We exchange a few more words before I have to return to my duties behind the counter, but her presence lingers in my mind long after she leaves. And as the days turn into weeks and then months, we start to form somewhat of a routine that consists of Alexia coming to get coffee every weekday morning, some light-hearted flirting, then I constantly think about her until I see her the next day.

Present Day –

The soft chime of the café's door announces Alexia's arrival, as it does every weekday morning. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, as it usually does, alongside a familiar pang of longing mixed with resentment tightening in my chest. I watch as Alexia approaches the counter, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Hey, Y/N," Alexia greets, her voice warm and inviting.

"Hey," my tone lacking its usual warmth. I start to busy myself with preparing Alexia's usual order, my movements stiff and mechanical. Whether Alexia is paying attention to these details or not is completely lost on me.

As I hand Alexia the cup, our fingers almost touch but Alexia pulls away quickly, further spiralling my conflicting emotions.

"Thanks," Alexia says with a tight smile.

I somehow manage to force a smile in return, but it feels hollow, fake. As Alexia takes her usual seat by the window, her attention is focused on her phone. The sight stirs a flicker of jealousy within me, a bitter unwanted reminder of the countless admirers vying for Alexia's attention.

The minutes tick by, each one stretching out into what seems like an eternity as I try to manage my emotions. I want to reach out to Alexia, to tell her how I am truly feeling, but the words stay stuck in my throat, still suffocated by the weight of the secret I have no choice but to keep.

As Alexia finishes her drink and prepares to leave, my resolve quickly crumbles. "Alexia, wait," I blurted out, cringing at how my voice is tinged with obvious desperation.

Alexia turns to me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Is everything okay babe?"

I start to hesitate, my heart pounding like an alarm in my chest. I try to open my mouth to speak, but the words elude me.

"Never mind," I murmur, forcing a weak smile. "Just... take care, okay?"

Alexia's brow furrows in confusion, but she nods, concern etched into her features. "You too, Y/N."

As Alexia leaves the café, I am left alone with my thoughts, the weight of secrecy pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I begin to wonder how much longer I can keep up the charade, how much longer I can pretend that everything is okay when it's anything but.

I return back to the counter with my heart pounding like a drum inside my chest and my thoughts racing. As the day drags on and my return back to Alexia and I’s shared apartment is approaching, I know something has to change. The weight of secrecy was slowly crushing me and if this goes on any longer, I do not know how much there will be left of our relationship to salvage, or if there will be anything left to salvage. Whether I had the courage to confront this and risk the comfort we had built is another story.

10 Months Ago —

My phone flashes with a message as I am sitting at my desk pouring over textbooks.

Alexia: Be ready at 6, dress comfortably.

As I went to respond, I couldn't hide the bright grin growing on my face. Ever since that day two months ago, Alexia and I had been texting nonstop, talking about anything, everything and all that's in between. I couldn't help but feel as if the universe had dropped a gift into my lap. Alexia was unbelievably attentive and rather charming, further adding to my ever growing feelings for her. As we kept talking nonstop, we found that we were completely different. She's a professional footballer, I do not know a singular thing about football. I study film with a minor in astronomy, she is not very well versed in either of those. However, we are similar in every aspect that matters. Although I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too good to be true, she is undeniably attractive, charming, funny, the list goes on and on. Why would she settle for an overworked university student with a mundane part time job?

I push all those thoughts away for later as I start to get ready, considering this will be our first date, if it even is a date. I needed to be prepared, but not too prepared.

Hours pass and I am now in Alexia's car as music softly plays from the console and her hand is lightly resting on my thigh, as if it was always meant to be there.

“Pretty pleasee just tell me where we’re going” I turn to her with the biggest puppy dog eyes, which seem to not work as she just chuckles and shakes her head. “We’re almost there, just a little patience baby” She murmurs and kisses my hand as a way of apologising.

Alexia starts to put the car into park and quickly leaves the car to open my door, ever the gentlewoman. She intertwines her hand with mine as she leads me into a very familiar building. “Uhm Alexia, why are we at the astronomy club?” I look to her with a very confused frown as she looks to me with the softest smile that completely melts my heart, “I got us tickets to a private rooftop stargazing event hosted by a local astronomy club” She speaks with excitement lacing every word, she couldn't even get the words out before I jump into her arms and squeeze her into the tightest hug known to man as a way to try show a glimmer of the feelings taking over my heart due to her unexpected attentiveness. She just smiles at me and gently kisses my forehead as if I am the softest thing in the world, I think I will just melt into a puddle of gush right then and there because of all her actions.

She once again takes my hand as we ascend the stairs to the rooftop, my heart races with excitement and anticipation. The night sky stretches out above creating a vast canvas of twinkling stars and constellations.

Upon reaching the rooftop, we’re greeted by a cosy setup complete with blankets, pillows, and telescopes. Soft music plays in the background, a realisation hits me suddenly. This is the song that was playing when I gave Alexia my number two months ago. The pure amount of consideration, care and thought that Alexia put into this date is making my eyes water, Alexia takes notice of this and immediately comes to engulf me with a hug as she lightly peppers kisses on my head. How did I get so lucky?

She starts to lead me, according to her, to the prime stargazing spot. She snakes her hands around my waist as her chin rests in the crook between my shoulder and neck while I peer through the telescope. “Alexia, you need to see this!” I excitedly tell her but to my surprise she shakes her head “I’d rather stay here with you” I turn to her with the biggest grin as I kiss her cheek and tell her various stories about all the constellations.

As the night wears on, we find ourselves lost in each other's company, our laughter mingling with the soft strains of music and the rustle of the night. With each passing moment, my heart swells more and more with a sense of warmth and belonging, a feeling I had never imagined I could find in another person.

And as the night starts to draw to a close, Alexia leans in, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every moment leading up to the kiss. As I was thinking that the anticipation was going to be the death of me, I felt the warmth of Alexia's breath against my skin as our lips meet in a tender embrace, the world falling away, leaving only the sensation of Alexia's lips against mine, incredibly soft and inviting. My fingers instinctively tangle in Alexia's hair, pulling her as close to me as humanly possible. In that fleeting moment, everything feels right in the world.

[amournoir]

𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

pairing: jj maybank x f!reader

count: 1.1k

warning: none, just fluff

author’s note: after the votes on my poll, i decided to add a new fandom, obx being one of them. i hope you guys enjoy this, it’s my first one of hopefully many 🤞🏽 anywho have fun reading!

The sun was setting over the picturesque North Carolina coast, casting a warm golden hue over the beachside hangout spot where John B and his friends often gathered. Among them was Y/N, John B's younger sister, who had been inseparable from the group since moving to the area. Unbeknownst to her brother, Y/N had developed a secret crush on JJ Maybank, one of John B's closest friends.

Whenever JJ was around, Y/N found herself drawn to his infectious energy and charming smile. She loved how he made her feel alive, how he made her heart skip a beat with just a look. However, she kept her feelings hidden, fearing that it might change the dynamics of their friendship and disrupt the camaraderie she cherished.

One particular evening, the group decided to have a bonfire on the beach, celebrating life and freedom under the stars. As the night progressed, laughter filled the air, and everyone let loose, relishing in each other's company.

Y/N had a few drinks, her inhibitions loosening, and her heart's yearning growing harder to ignore. JJ noticed her sitting alone, looking lost in her thoughts, and he approached her, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her.

"Hey there, Y/N. What's on your mind?" he asked, taking a seat beside her.

She glanced up at him, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and her emotions bubbling beneath the surface. "Oh, nothing really," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her.

JJ smirked, seeing right through her facade. He had noticed how Y/N always seemed to want to be around him, and he couldn't help but feel a similar pull towards her. "You sure about that?" he teased gently.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. "Well, I... I kind of have a crush on you," she admitted, her gaze fixed on the sand beneath her feet.

JJ's heart skipped a beat, and a soft smile graced his lips. "Is that so?" he said, his voice low and intimate.

She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yeah, but I understand if you don't feel the same way. I don't want to ruin our friendship."

JJ reached out, gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "You could never ruin anything," he assured her. "And, to be honest, I've had my eye on you too."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of relief and joy flooding her heart. "Really?" she whispered, her breath hitching.

He leaned in, their faces inches apart, his voice a soft murmur. "Really," he confirmed before capturing her lips in a tender kiss.

The world seemed to disappear around them as their lips met, a spark igniting between them, the revelation of their feelings unspoken but understood. In that moment, they knew they were meant to be together.

JJ pulled her closer, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss, pouring his emotions into every touch. Y/N melted into his embrace, feeling an overwhelming rush of affection and desire, her heart singing with happiness.

As they pulled away, breathless and flushed, JJ rested his forehead against hers. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N smiled, her heart feeling lighter than ever before. "Me too," she confessed, her eyes shimmering with affection.

The night continued, but everything felt different now. Y/N and JJ shared stolen glances, their newfound connection weaving through their interactions, making every moment more meaningful.

Later, Y/N found herself walking hand in hand with JJ along the moonlit shoreline. The sound of crashing waves and the soft touch of sand under their feet added to the magic of the moment.

"My brother would kill you if he knew," Y/N said playfully, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

JJ chuckled, pulling her closer to him. "Yeah, he might," he replied. "But for now, let's keep it our little secret. Just us."

She nodded, her heart full of contentment. "Just us," she agreed, savoring the sweetness of their newfound romance.

In that serene moment, as the stars twinkled above and the ocean whispered its secrets, Y/N and JJ found solace in each other’s arms. Their hearts had been entwined from the beginning, hidden but always there, and now, they were ready to embrace the love that had been waiting to bloom.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @softcoremaybank @klaustopia @dreamingwithrafe @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll

home ✰ navigation ✰ masterlist

[jaipursightseeingtour]

Best Things to do in Jaipur with best Places to visit

  Offbeat and Unique Things to Do in Jaipur

Jaipur, the desert capital of Rajasthan and the "Pink City," is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and part of the popular Golden Triangle tourist circuit (along with Delhi and Agra). Top attractions in the city are the well-preserved palaces and forts, which have elaborate architecture reflecting their royal heritage. However, the addition of many cool shops, bars, cafes, and creative spaces in recent years has made the city quite hip as well. Continue reading to learn about the best things to do in Jaipur.

Apart from visiting famous places such as Jantar Mantar, Amer Fort, Hawa Mahal, and various areas of Jaipur that have endless stories, you should also visit the offbeat places in Jaipur to get a true flavour of the city. Every corner of the city has a story to tell, and one cannot forget how amazing and beautiful Jaipur truly is. Jaipur is well-known for destination weddings, which are especially designed for loved ones who visit every winter and create a lifetime of memories.

Suggested Tours: Jaipur Sightseeing Tour, Jaipur Tour, Jaipur Pushkar Tour, Jaipur Ranthambore Tour, 2 Days Jaipur Tour

Take part in an Old City Heritage Walk.

Explore Jaipur's Old City beyond its famous monuments on one of the immersive heritage walking tours offered in the early morning or evening. Depending on the tour, you'll get to see artisan communities like bangle makers and metal workers, gemstone workshops, ancient temples, a traditional Ayurvedic hospital, and old stables converted into a market. The tours leave at 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. and last approximately two and a half hours. Another option is Virasat Experiences' informative Temples and Havelis Walking Tour. It reveals some of the Old City's lesser-known architectural wonders and local community traditions.

Go Behind the Scenes of the Iconic Wind Palace

The intricate facade of the Hawa Mahal (Wind Palace) is possibly Jaipur's most photographed structure. It was built in 1799 by Maharaja Sawai Pratap Singh as an extension of the City Palace's women's quarters to allow the royal women to look out over the main street below without being noticed. The palace got its name from the wind that blew through the shutters. However, most of them are now sealed shut to help preserve them. It is possible to enter the Hawa Mahal from the back entrance. Rajasthan's Department of Archaeology & Museums sells government composite tickets for 300 rupees for Indians and 1,000 rupees for foreigners.

Learn About Astronomy

The intriguing structures of Jantar Mantar are actually astrological instruments. Each performs a specific astronomical function, such as time measurement, eclipse prediction, and star tracking. The largest is the massive Samrat Yantra sundial. Its shadow moves the width of a person's hand every minute from a height of 90 feet (27 metres). It's a powerful demonstration of how quickly time passes! The UNESCO World Heritage Site Jantar Mantar (literally "calculation instrument") is one of five such astronomical observatories built by Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II, a renowned mathematician and astronomer. It was finished in 1738 and is located in the Old City, next to the City Palace.

Explore the Amber Fort and Palace.

Amber Fort, which looks like something out of a fairy tale, sits on a hill overlooking Maota Lake about 30 minutes north of the city centre. In 1592, Maharaja Man Singh I, who led Mughal Emperor Akbar's army, began construction on the fort. It was the residence of Kachwaha Rajput rulers until 1727, when Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II relocated their capital to Jaipur city. Inside are opulent palaces, halls, gardens, and temples. The elaborate mirror work adds to the opulence. Amber Fort is open from 8 a.m. to 5.30 p.m. daily. Many people choose to stay for the evening sound and light show that brings the fort's history to life, night viewing, and dinner. The fort reopens, those without a government composite ticket must pay 100 rupees for Indians and 500 rupees for foreigners.

View the World's Largest Wheeled Cannon

In 1726, Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II built Jaigarh Fort to protect Amber Fort. This fort is popular among military enthusiasts because it houses the world's largest cannon on wheels. However, the cannon has never been fired, and the fort has never been captured. As a result, it has remained remarkably intact throughout its long life. In fact, the fort is one of mediaeval India's best-preserved military structures. Jaigarh lacks the delicate palace interiors of Amber Fort and thus appears to be a true fortress. Climb the Diwa Burj watchtower for a spectacular view of the plains. Those who do not have a City Palace composite ticket must pay a 50 rupee entry fee for Indians and a 100 rupee entry fee for foreigners.

Spend Sunset at Nahargarh Fort

The Nahargarh Fort (also known as Tiger Fort) is perched high on the rugged Aravali Hills northwest of Jaipur. It was commissioned in 1734 by Sawai Jai Singh II to help strengthen the security of his new capital. It rose to prominence in 2006, when scenes from the hit Bollywood film Rang De Basanti were shot there. The fort offers breathtaking views of the city, especially at sunset. The Madhavendra Bhavan palace complex, which serves as the backdrop for the new Sculpture Park, is the highlight on the inside. If you do not have a government composite ticket, you must pay an entry fee of 50 rupees for Indians and 200 rupees for foreigners to enter the fort's palace.

Admire the Remarkable Water Palace

The remarkable Jal Mahal (Water Palace) in Jaipur appears to float on Man Sagar Lake near Amber Fort. Little is known about its history, but it is believed that Maharaja Sawai Madho Singh I used it as a lodge for royal duck hunting trips in the mid-18th century. The palace actually has four submerged floors with specially designed lime mortar to prevent water seepage. Unfortunately, despite being renovated, the palace is still not open to the public, so you'll have to make do with viewing it from the side of the lake.

Relax at the Royal Cenotaphs

Despite being included in the City Palace composite ticket, most tourists miss the Gatore ki Chhatriyan cenotaphs at the foothills of Nahargarh Fort. Most of the time, this makes them delightfully restful. The exquisitely carved cenotaphs honour Jaipur's late kings, ranging from Sawai Jai Singh ll to Man Singh ll. The most impressive cenotaph honours Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh ll. It is made of white marble, has 20 pillars, and is carved with Hindu gods and people. To get there, take the Jaipur-Amber Road and exit near the Jal Mahal. Those without a City Palace composite ticket must pay an entry fee of 40 rupees for Indians and 100 rupees for foreigners. The nearby Garh Ganesh temple is well worth a visit.

Get Up Close to Monkeys

The somewhat derelict but holy Galtaji temple is nestled between two granite cliffs on the city's far eastern outskirts. It is part of a larger temple complex that also includes three sacred water pools. Thousands of monkeys have taken over one of the pools, congregating there to swim and bathe. They are generally friendly and enjoy being fed. Unfortunately, the area is not well-kept. Prepare to come across dirt and trash, as well as people who will try to force you to pay money. Visit in the late afternoon, near sunset, when the monkeys congregate at the temple. To get there, walk up the hill from the road to the white Sun Temple, then downhill into the gorge.

Shop 'Til You Drop

The city is a great place to shop thanks to Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II, who turned Jaipur into a commercial hub by inviting artisans and traders to settle there. Precious gemstones, silver jewellery, bangles, clothes, perfumes, blue pottery, and textiles are among the items available. Each lane in the bazaars of the Old City is dedicated to a different type of handicraft. Head to the crowded Maniharon ka Rasta in Tripolia Bazaar for lacquer bangles (Awaz Mohammed is an award-winning bangle-maker). Johari Bazaar sells inexpensive jewellery, while Bapu Bazaar sells textiles. Thateron ka Rasta is home to metalworkers, Jhalaniyon Ka Rasta is home to spice sellers, and Khajanewalon Ka Rasta is home to marble statues. M.I. Road is lined with high-end branded shops.

[sashi-ya]

👑 Oh, Royal Lust Event ~ Royals AU event.

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤! 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 ~ 𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐎𝐡, 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲!

tw: as promised, dark and violent as these three bastards. IT'S HIGHLY EXPLICIT so please if you can't stand this DO NOT READ. ⚠ Glory -pussy- hole usage. Drugs usage, almost non con even if reader wants it. Anal, DP (yeah, kinda incestual too), mouth fuck. Oral. Rough. Degrading. ⚠

wc: 3.3K

Want more? visit the masterlist

One, two, three. Red, blue, and green.

The King and the two princes and the round table. Your eyes scan their facades, so similar and yet so different. Handsome young men ready to rule their own Kingdom after the last king died… under suspicious circumstances.

The World Economic Journal has sent their star journalist to write a social’s note, but was it a simply interview to know what “Ichiji Vinsmoke and his two brothers eat every morning for breakfast”?

Of course not.

Since Germa 66 kingdom stopped being part of the World Government, the Gorosei is worried. And they are right to be, not only they allegedly made an alliance with a Yonko, but also one of the princes is no other than one of the commanders of Mugiwara no Luffy.

“Careful. You should be careful” that’s what they told you before coming here. They are weak for women, and that can be as an advantage as a risk for you. But you are a badass reporter, and you will investigate what they are up to since Vinsmoke Judge died.

You bend over the bed subtly, chin resting over your interlocked fingers. A posture told to be inviting but still professional. In front of you, Ichiji, the new King imitates your posture, scanning you up and down, as his blue orbs shine behind cherry-stained glasses.

At your right, Niji, the second male child, fixes his stare like a beast ready to attack a pray. At your left, Yonji, the younger of them with his strong arms crossed, seems to be already tasting your blood in his tongue.

The ambient feels heavy and tense, and you can’t whether decide if It is because they wanna kill you or fuck you… or perhaps, both.

The silence breaks with the intromission of maids that bring a cup of tea for each one of you and many fine snacks. You nod thanking the personnel noticing how none of the princes express the slight acknowledgement to them.

“So, you tell us this is going to be a simple interview you said?” Ichiji asks, stirring his tea with so much class.

“Indeed, King Ichiji. We want to meet the most eligible bachelors of all the North Blue” you tell him, so lively and acting innocent.  Yonji hits the table, “eligible bachelors? Don’t fuck around!” he says, laughing and contrary to his red-haired brother with a considerable lack of manners.

But Ichiji smirks, and he is not in the slightest worried for his brother’s behaviour. “You want to meet us?” he asks, with clear double intentions behind his words. Hidden intentions you quickly get, and to be frank ponder silently with eyelashes sloppily covering half your eyes.

“In fact, I’d be very pleased if you can give me a detailed description of how the princes live and how your life have changed after your father passed away” you say, becoming serious in the end to add words you don’t even feel… “I’m very sorry for your loss”

The princes, as it is well known, are heartless and emotionless and they seem to not be moved by the fact you just named their deceased father.

“Very well, where do we start?” Ichiji says, untying the cord that holds his red cape over his shoulders. You smile sweetly at the three of them, taking your little agenda off your pocket. The pen with the WEJ symbol engraved is ready to write empty words you don’t really care but that will be useful as an introduction.

Ichiji looks at his younger blue haired brother and you notice how with a simple look he has ordered him something.

Soon as the silent interaction breaks, Niji offers you a cube of sugar you gladly accept. “Thank you, Prince Niji” you thank him watching as the sugar cube dissolves in your infusion and the prince smile grows bigger.

You can’t deny he looks hot with his glasses on and that bastard like smirk, and as you drink your cup of sweetened tea your eyes scan his façade up and down. Face that soon turns blurry as well as the rest of the surroundings…

Waking up you feel cold, you shake the dizziness off, but you can’t quite move. “What the hell?” you ask, realizing you are completely naked, and hands and legs tied. You look everywhere discovering a metallic plaque around your waist, leaving your legs and naked under half invisible to you. You can also feel your legs up and spread, tied to that metallic wall.

You take a look around, discovering at both of your sides something similar to a futuristic laboratory. Huge columns of men inside containers with some kind of liquid, all of them looking the same, almost like clones. The 66 is everywhere and the sound of bubbling fluids fills the ambience.

At this point, you are sure you are going to be used for experimentation since you know too well this nation is not a normal one, their whole existence revolves around scientific and military power, often mixing both.

You ponder the idea of screaming for help, but would that be useful? Of course, not. But your solitude soon gets interrupted but the steps of three people.  

“Are you finally woken up?” you hear from behind the metallic wall. You try to take a look in between your belly and the little hole that forms in between your skin and the plaque. “What is this? What are you planning to do with me?” you demand, as if it was enough for them to let you go.

You hear them laugh, sadistically, making you shiver.

“You told us you wanted us to give you a detailed description of our daily routines, so…”

“Right, we are starting with this every morning, cutie”

You swallow… sick bastards. “If you wanna experiment with me… then do it, but I’m nothing but a common human” you spit, feeling their presence closer and closer to your naked body.

“Experiment? Oh no, sweetheart! You told us you wanted to know us in detail, so why don’t we show you and you try to guess which one of is fucking you?”

Fucking me?

You widen your eyes, and soon you understand this is nothing but a different version of the known glory holes, and instead of them sticking his dicks through a little hole in the wall you are the one sticking your sex out so they can… use you.

At least it doesn’t sound as bad as being tortured… right?...

Think twice, honey.

The first touch feels weird, some of them is playing with your left foot. “Cute feet” he says, and you can imagine by the sound of his voice is the youngest, Yonji.

“Ah… Yonji you and your foot fetish! I prefer these thighs!” another voice, and a bite in your inner thigh. Niji, that’s definitely the blue haired demon. You squirm, that bite felt wonderful… will be there more of those?

“To be honest I do prefer breasts, but your already dripping pussy looks tasty” Ah, the King. The older one… what will he do next? Will he touch you?

You gasp and moan, someone, that you think it might be Ichiji has begun fingering you. In and out, slowly, exploring your tight walls that spasm when surprisingly receive that finger. “Ah…” you whine, as a finger turns into two, and soon into three.

The sound of their belts being unbuckled announces you they are getting naked too, and the perversity of your mind can’t help but imagine their exposed anatomy and perhaps even more.

None of them is saying nothing but laughing and mixed with the sound of the machinery around you, you enjoy their hands against their sexes up and down.

“Good, you are stretched enough for us… so, now we are gonna play a game little slut! We will fuck you, and you will have to tell us who is doing it so. If you fail you will be punished” Ichiji tells you, while one of them wipes his fingers from your fluids in your lower belly.

“And if I don’t?” you ask, allowing pure sinful thoughts speak for you.

“Hah! The slut likes this! you are here to serve us, but it’s a fair trade… then, you will be allowed to cum”

You don’t have time to think because as soon as they stop speaking, you feel the wet tongue of one of the brothers on your sex. Up and down it goes, violently, sucking and even biting your labia. Not only his tongue makes you squirm and pull from the tight cords that hold your limbs tied but also his fingers. If they plan on not letting you cum, they will have to stop because you are frankly about to do so.

The oral sex suddenly stops and Ichiji asks, “Who is eating you out?”. You take a second to think, it’s either the most aggressive or the less polite of them. Niji or Yonji…

“Come on!” you are urged to answer with a slap on your sex. “Uh.. uh… Niji?” you guess, failing.

“Not yet, little bitch! You will see how good I eat you when it’s my turn!” Niji says, hitting the metallic wall, making it vibrate over your body and soon as the initial scare passes you feel yourself being impaled, brutally.

It’s big, and hard. It’s unprotected, skin to skin, mixing fluids with yours. The man fucking you only moans, but never speaks. And his grunt aren’t enough to identify which one of them is.

The unstoppable thrusts that make the back of your thighs stinge are also making you reach for heaven. Your toes curl as you feel someone pressing your belly down while being fucked mercilessly. You, up until now trying to muffle your moan, can’t do it any longer. Even if you wouldn’t like to give them the satisfaction of you enjoying somehow this, it is in fact impossible for you to stop whining and panting.

“You ain’t coming bitch, the one eating your pussy was me. Yonji. Didn’t you understand what my bro said? You will be punished for being mistaken” Yonji says, laughing and probably him being the one biting your ankles. “Niji, fill her up but don’t let her come, we want her to be full of our cum like the semen dump she is”

You widen your eyes, semen dump… I… they aren’t using any protection…

However, you feel your insides clench more and more to the dick that’s fucking you. “That’s good, bitch! Milk my dick like the good whore you are” he grunts, thrusting in you deeper, and deeper until you feel the warm flooding product of his climax inside your womb.

And just when it’s your time to cum, the punishment becomes effective. The blue haired man sticks his sex off yours and stops fucking you. Frustrating orgasm denial that leaves you trembling and annoyed. You grunt in pain as the race to the top gets dashed.

The sensation of warm, sticky flowing milk from your core to your perineum, however, helps you maintain the exhilaration as you wait for the next one. This isn’t a torture for you, not any more…

“Are you enjoying this, bitch?” you hear, suddenly taking a look at your side. The red-haired king is now by your side, and as soon as you notice him, his strong hands grab a bunch of your hair. “Look at your teary eyes, as much as I like to use your cunt I also wanna see that whore face enjoying… You wanna come, don’t you?” he asks, shaking your head.

You blink, and immediately take a look down his chest. Marked abs, muscular frame, perfect V shape that ends in a big, hard, dripping shaft. You know what’s next, of course, you do… and you are ready to get your throat destroy…

As well as your ass.

“Now you have a little bit of an advantage, you know I’m not there, so you are left with just two options” he says, as you feel a wet tongue cleaning your cunt from up and down, your perineum and down your rear entrance.

“Ah…” you only whine when your body feels it. “Ah? What? Make me a favour and shut the fuck up, ok?” Ichiji says smirking and coming closer to your lips with his dick on his hand. “Open” he orders, pushing himself inside your mouth, up until your throat and even further.

Strings of precum and saliva forms, as he goes in and out, grunting with his sweet voice. The only soft thing that mans holds. Tears sprout from your eyes, not only because of the gagging that his dicks provokes, but also because of the brothers trying to dilate you so you could take them anally.

“Crying? Are you crying?” Ichiji laughs, smearing your make up stained tears over your cheeks with his palm. You can’t even speak, let alone think. It hurts, but it also feels good,  you need oxygen, but you need more, more of his dick on your throat and more of his brothers’ sex inside you too.

And it’s not until some of the princes think you are ready to take him that your body feels like breaking in half. It’s wide, and as he pushes himself inside you feel that deadly combination of a pleasant burning and stretching of your back walls.

You moan with your lips around the merciless king’s dick, and your eyes become white. “Clench around, bitch!” Yonji grunts, revealing he is the one that’s fucking you. And of course, he is.

“You idiot!” Niji scolds his younger brother. “Fuck you, she will notice who fucks her better” Yonji fights back, showing his aggressiveness in the rhythm of his thrusts.

You take a look in between blurred eyes and wet eyelashes to Ichiji’s imponent body at your side. He keeps fucking your mouth, your throat feels like burning, and his face holds a raptured expression with a smile that shows how much he enjoys doing this with his brothers when looking over the metallic wall.

Twisted bastard…

“I bet you know already who is destroying your ass, don’t you?” he asks, slapping your cheeks several times, those slaps that are not hard but rather degrading. You nod, or at least is what you think you are doing. “Say it, come on!” he urges to speak, even if his member is blocking your airway.

You try to articulate his brother’s name, with painful mandible joints and a tongue movement acting like the last impulse for him to reach climax. You choke with the creamy seed of the king coming down your throat and the way he pushes himself deeper into your pharynx by making your face bury on his pelvic area.

“Drink. It. All” he commands, as if you had another choice but to swallow every drop to be able to breath back. He remains inside you to feel the heavenly sensation of your swallowing motions on the tip of his dick, because Ichiji knows exactly what he likes and how to get it.

The second born comes to join his climaxing brother, enjoying the way you get feed with the king’s seed. “Was she thirsty?” he jokes, already pumping his dick next to your chest, soon bathing your whole countenance with his release. Because that man enjoys degrading a woman, and what’s better than covering her face in his own cum? Eyes burning, the creamy texture of his milk dripping into your chest and hair. “Messing the bitch, that’s why you came here, right? You wanted us to use you as the good dick warmer you are”

Apparently these men need more, and more and you are the one who will give them what they want.

You sense your body once again reaching climax, and this time is for sure you will. Nobody will deny your orgasm no more, you weren’t wrong after all. Not only the green haired prince keeps going in and out with fantastic hips motions, but he also licks the sole of your feet as they are still tied to the wall.

“Squeeze my dick harder, come on!” he shouts, slapping your sex and playing with your clit on and on. And you, not because he asked for it, do it. You clench around his hard dick, and to his fingers that go in and out your cunt, too. You moan, and scream. Climaxing, feeling how he also cums and fills your ass with the manliest, more primal grunt so far.

But do you really thought you were going to stop being violated by these ruthless, cruel men? Of course not.

As soon as Yonji finishes with you and you still feel the trembling rests of your recent orgasm, Ichiji walks away from your face, and you just know he is the last one that still hasn’t fucked you yet.  And the King cannot be denied, right?

Your legs are finally untied from the wall, and Niji does the same with your hands. A sudden motion turns you around, your ribs hitting with the sides of the hole the wall has. Your belly is now against the cold surface where you were laying, and Niji has your face pinned against it.

“Don’t you dare move” he commands, smirking well aware his threatening words are enough for you to obey. “Y-yes” you mumble, with your cheek pressed against that kind of a bed. “Such a good bitch you are, we wouldn’t mind keeping you like our pet” he says, carving his fingers on your cheeks and walking away.

You are suddenly pulled down; your feet touch the cold ground, and you adopt a classic on all fours position. You are sure the king will want to fuck you in this position, but you never ever thought he wouldn’t be the only one.

“Niji, come here, you go up” Ichiji commands, and even if the blue haired demon protests you can feel the crushing weight of his well-trained body sitting over your ass and impaling you once again. And of course, there is absolutely no doubt what’s next, that won’t be the only dick fucking you now.

Soon the stretching sensation multiplies as now not only one, but two sexes are pumping into you, you can feel them protrude and form a bulge in your lower belly. Sick men invading your insides, both at the same time, violently and mercilessly.

You can feel nails carving the skin of your hips and crushing palms pressing your body down over the small of your back.

“Bitch, how good you feel! Even after being fucked, you are still so tight”. “Ugh, your cunt clenches so good around our dicks!”

Synchronously they fuck your brains out, making you go dumb from pleasure. You moan, you cry, you whine and you cum. Once, twice, who knows how many times. These guys are genetically modified to be strong and have more resistance while performing physical activities, probably including sex in those.

Grunting and laughing, penetrating you with more than a dick, them at the same time or switching places. They fill you up several, and countless times.

Your body isn’t able to take it until the end and you finally pass out who knows after how many times they have used your body for their pleasure…

“You look tired, (Name). Was the trip from the Germa 66 kingdom that exhausting for you?” the chief of staff asks you. The bustling sounds of the WEJ officers makes you feel dizzy as your body feels sore and painful.

“Uh…”

“So, what kind of information did you get from them?”

“They do everything together, Sir…”

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 12

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, AO3

~*CS*~

 Boston, June 8th

Emma shifted from foot to foot in front of the door marked 520.  It had taken her over a week to get her shit together and make the trip that she’d originally intended to make the morning after her show in Vancouver.  Of course that had been before her phone had blown up with calls and texts about Killian’s video, which had hit a million views before the sun had even risen.  It had also been before the small gaggle of paparazzi had grown to a crowd and forced her to use the same back door to leave the hotel that she’d used to enter it the night before.  Those were the excuses she told herself in the light of day.  She was much more honest with herself at three in the morning when she couldn’t sleep.

In the dead of night it was easy to admit that she was a fucking coward.  Killian had laid his heart bare for the entire world to see, and judge, and all she’d done was call her manager.  Granted she’d had to take a dressing down and listen to a frustrated rant meant for someone else but that was nothing compared to the self flagellation she’d been doing since she’d landed in Portland and driven north instead of heading south.  To add an extra layer to her guilt she watched Killian’s video two or three times a day and that didn’t even count how many times she only pulled up the song portion.  That, in the end, had been what decided it for her.

She’d tried finding the song on every streaming service and on every platform that sold downloads but it wasn’t anywhere.  For the entire week she’d checked every morning when she woke up and every night before she went to bed but the song only seemed accessible in the video he posted.  The temptation to illegally download it had crossed her mind once or twice but she’d been able to hold herself in check, mostly because she knew the audio quality would suck but even more so because it felt almost cowardly.  That that would be the thing to somehow tip off Killian that she would rather torture herself with a shitty copy of the song he wrote for her than to actually talk to him.

It took far too long for her to piece together that because it couldn’t be downloaded or streamed meant that he wasn’t making any kind of profit from it.  When she finally did she felt like her heart had been plucked out of her chest and was on the precipice of being ground into dust.  She’d been out the door and on her way to Boston within five minutes of her realization and long before she could talk herself out of it.

The four hour drive had given her plenty of time to think over some things.  How she felt about him, really, truly felt about him, for one.  While Killian had pretty much said that he loved her she wasn’t so sure that was what she was feeling in return.  She definitely liked him, a lot, so much so that the weeks since she’d practically ghosted him she’d grown used to the constant ache under her breastbone.  The restless nights and obsessing over his video seemed a bit much but she could easily admit to herself that she missed him.  It didn’t necessarily mean that she loved him, they’d really only been together for a matter of days after all.

Then there was the slight issue of what the hell she was going to say to him.  An apology was a given.  On the flight back to Portland from Vancouver she’d finally admitted to herself that she might have possibly, slightly overreacted when she’d heard about Killian’s record contract.  She wasn’t completely in the wrong, he had lied and hidden things from her, but she definitely could have at least listened to what he’d had to say.  That was another thing, she was going to keep her damn mouth shut after she apologized and let him say whatever it was that he needed to say to her.

Her planning and imagined conversations got her into Boston but once she’d parked her car she’d begun to worry.  There was every possibility that he’d refuse to speak to her, that he’d take one look at her darkening his doorstep and slam the door in her face.  He might not even open the door at all, just see her distorted image through the peephole and decide not to bother.  By the time she’d reached his apartment she’d worked herself up so much with the ‘what ifs’ that she couldn’t bring herself to even knock on the damn door.

She’d been psyching herself up for at least ten minutes, raising her fist in a burst of courage only to drop it as another wave of unease washed over her.  As she lifted her hand for the fifth or fiftieth time one of his neighbors slammed their door shut.  Startled, her knuckles tapped the door, softly but enough to make a definite sound.  Resigned and relieved she sucked in a deep breath and soundly knocked twice, stepping back quickly so if he did look through the peephole he’d clearly see that it was her on the other side.

For a few agonizing moments she stood, waiting.  The neighbor who had slammed their door passed her by, giving her a curious look but kept walking.  She briefly wondered if he knew he lived on the same floor as potential rock legend.  The thought fled her mind when she heard the slide of a lock disengaging and the door in front of her slowly opened.

She could tell that Killian hadn’t been sleeping as soon as he stepped into view, there were dark purple shadows under his eyes that hadn’t shown up in his video.  His hair was even more of a disheveled mess than it had been in the video too, and longer.  He was wearing a pair of thin blue flannel lounge pants and a threadbare grey t-shirt with a rip at the collar and a faded Led Zeppelin logo.  She’d never seen a more heartbreakingly beautiful sight.

“How-”

“Regina mostly,” she rushed to explain.  It was way easier to tell him how she found him instead of why she had wanted to, “Robin helped with the doorman though.”

“They’re old friends,” he murmured absently.  His gaze darted all over her, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there, “Tuck put in a good word for me with the board when I decided to move here after rehab.  Why are you here Emma?”

She winced, “Can we, um, go inside.  I really don’t want to do this out here.”

Something flared bright in Killian’s eyes as his mouth tightened.  She almost expected him to cross his arms and refuse.  Saying everything she needed to say out in the hallway would have been embarrassing and awkward as hell but she was prepared to do it.  In fact, she realized she would do almost anything to just get him to give her a chance.  He must have seen that in her own eyes as he gave her a terse nod, stepping back into the apartment and opening the door wider for her to pass through.

As she walked by him she resisted the urge to reach out and brush her fingers against the back of his hand or worse, stop completely to wrap her arms around him and never let him go.  Every ounce of courage she’d lacked before was suddenly filling her from root to tip.  She was still nervous as hell but she wasn’t about to destroy everything for once and for all by chickening out at the last second.  If things didn’t go the way she wanted it wouldn’t be because she decided that giving up was easier than fighting them.

Her steps slowed to a stop as she fully stepped into the spacious apartment.  One of the living room walls was floor to ceiling shelves filled with books, cds, and vinyls while the second had an impressive entertainment system with a giant tv that had a soccer game frozen on its screen.  There was a cozy looking couch and matching chair facing it that broke up the space between the living room and breakfast bar and the kitchen.  What really caught her eye was the view from the sliding glass doors behind a round dining table that opened to a small balcony.  It wasn’t full dark but the facade of the State House was already lit, its golden dome gleaming dimly.

“Nice view,” she muttered quietly.

“You were more excited by the one in Malibu,” Killian said flatly, startling her as he stepped up beside her.  He gave her a wry grin, “Bit jumpy there, Swan?  Don’t worry I won’t bite.”

She turned fully towards him and held his gaze, “I’m more nervous than worried.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked but he didn’t look away.  After a moment he gave a small sigh and moved toward the kitchen.

“I’d offer you a stiff drink but chamomile will have to do.”

He brushed past her, moving into the kitchen.  When she didn’t move he huffed and pointed to one of the high backed stools tucked under the breakfast bar.  She gave him a small smile and when he turned his back to her to open a cupboard she shook her head at her nervousness.  Silently admonishing herself she sat down and watched him move around the space, a defensive set to his shoulders as he gathered the things for their tea and set an electric kettle to boil.  Once there was nothing left for him to fiddle with he turned back to her, leaning casually against the far counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

“So it took you ten days to ask Regina where to find me?” He asked in that same flat voice.

Despite his attempt to sound indifferent she could hear the hurt in his words.  As much as she knew her answer would only serve to harm him more she couldn’t lie to him.  There was enough of that between them already.

“I called her as soon as I finished watching your video-” she dropped her gaze to where her hands were folded on the bartop, not quite strong enough to watch him react to her answer, “ten days ago.”

Her confession was met with silence.  She could hear the water in the kettle start to boil and the gentle hum of the refrigerator but that was it.  After a few seconds of quiet torture she steeled herself and looked up, needing to know exactly how pissed he was at her.  What she saw didn’t disappoint.

He hadn’t moved an inch, still leaning against the counter but there was nothing casual about it.  Every one of his muscles were tense, his fingers digging into his bicep with enough force to turn them white while his eyes were two chips of ice, cold enough to burn as he stared her down.  She was almost relieved at seeing the signs of his anger, anything was better than the indifference he’d been displaying before.  The kettle clicked off but he showed no sign of noticing aside from the slight tightening of his jaw.

As he glared at her she tried not to let her own frustration and anger flare up.  There were still so many things that they needed to talk about and any one of them could have him throwing her out of the apartment.  She wasn’t about to be meek or amenable but she sure as hell wasn’t about to keep poking the beast that she’d awakened.

“Honey?” He growled.

She blinked, “Wha- what?”

“In your tea-” he uncrossed his arms and gestured to the mugs beside him, “Honey?”

“Um, yeah, that’s fine.”

He gave her a terse nod and began fixing their tea.  With his back turned to her she took a deep, calming breath.  She was no longer nervous, his reaction had been pretty much what she’d expected and that part was over with.  Instead a hollow ache of longing had settled in her chest.  There was nothing she wanted more than to talk like they used to, open and without pretense but also with a bit of teasing and flirting thrown in for good measure.

Killian topped his mug off with a splash of milk before turning and handing hers over.  It was a white mug with a line drawing of a guitar and the words ‘I’m a kettle head’ written over it.  She couldn’t help her snort of laughter at the sight of it.

“Something funny, Swan?” He asked with a raised brow, his cup of tea halfway to his lips.

She spun the mug so the graphic faced him, “Gag gift or did you buy this yourself?”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea but she could see his ears turning red.  She let her own eyebrow tick up as he swallowed, shaking his head.

“Gift from a fan, actually.  I made mention in an interview years ago that I enjoyed a good cup of tea in the afternoon.  I’m still receiving packages of tea and its related wares on a steady basis-” he tipped his head towards her mug, “That was one of the more clever ones.”

Spinning it back so she could grasp it by the handle she hesitated.  The opening was clear for her to start the conversation that needed to be had.  She knew she should take advantage of it but he was no longer glaring at her and she wanted to bask in the small reprieve she’d found herself in.  To prolong the moment she took a sip of her tea, humming at the soothing warmth and delicate flavor that danced over her tongue.  The corner of Killian’s mouth ticked up and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Not as good as my hot chocolate but it’ll do,” she teased.

Emma knew she’d pushed his patience to its breaking point a half second too late.  Killian’s smile flared for a second before he pressed his lips together in a thin line and turned his gaze away from her.  Her own small grin slipped and she berated herself for expecting too much too soon.  She waited, quiet and still, until he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened and he let out a little huff of surprise but she barreled on, needing to get it all out.

“I’m sorry for so many things, waiting ten days to show up, not calling the second I finished watching your video, blocking your number so you couldn’t call me, fighting with you when I answered Ruby’s phone-”

“Swan-”

“I get that you’re mad at me.  Good, you should be.  I was terrible to you and I know it’s no excuse but I was hurt and you lied to me, but I still should have given you a chance to explain-” she gave a little hiccuping laugh, “God, if you’d done that to me and showed up at my house I would have slammed the door in your face and been done with it.  And you?  You invited me in for tea?  Why?”

Killian shook his head with a huff.  She could see his smile threatening to break loose again and the sight mystified her.  He saw her bewilderment and pushed off the counter behind him with his hip, setting his mug in front of hers and leaned into her space, gently taking her hand in his.

“Don’t you know, Emma?” He asked, painfully earnest. “You said you watched the video, so you must know.”

“You’re mad at me,” she pointed out, even as she gripped his hand.

He tilted his head, considering her, “I am but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“I’m not sure how I feel,” she confessed in a whisper, “I know I hated not talking to you late at night or being near you almost constantly but…”

She trailed off, unsure how to proceed without stoking either of their tempers again.  Killian’s thumb ran over the back of her hand, encouraging her, and she reveled in the feeling.  He gave her an encouraging nod and she took a fortifying breath.

“You lied to me-” he winced and tried to pull his hand from hers but she held on fast, “You lied and if whatever this is between us is going to work I need to know why.  I promise to actually listen this time.”

He gave her a pained smile, “And if you don’t like what you hear?”

“I won’t know until you tell me,” she countered softly.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, one that seemed more for himself than for her. “Alright, but can you promise me one more thing?”

“Anything,” she agreed quickly.

“No interruptions.  I think it’ll do us both good to have it all out in one go.”

She used her free hand to mime that she was locking her lips and throwing away the key.  He gave her a small snort of a laugh, no longer looking pained or apprehensive, which had been her goal.  As she gently squeezed his hand in encouragement she really hoped she’d be able to keep her promise.

Killian blew out a harsh breath and began, “Are you familiar with Cora Hart?”

Her eyebrows shot up and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her mouth shut.  Cora Hart was the agent of all agents.  Her firm was the one every struggling artist wished would represent them because every one of their clients was a superstar or on their way to being one.  To be one of her personal clients was like getting a golden ticket to everlasting fame, fortune, and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  However, it came with a price and Emma wasn’t entirely convinced that it wasn’t someone’s soul.  Plus Cora Hart was known by everyone in the industry as ‘that cold hearted bitch’.  It was an unpleasant surprise to hear her name coming from Killian’s lips.

“Yes, I can see that you are,” he sighed. “She’s my agent.”

She grimaced.  As much as she’d been prepared to hear it it still made her stomach drop.  There were only so many ways his story was going to go and she wasn’t sure she was entirely ready to hear it, but she would, because she promised.

“I’ve been with her since the beginning.  She found us playing at a small pub in Liverpool and snapped us up.  If it weren’t for her we’d probably still be playing pub gigs but only on weekends-” he gave her a wan smile that didn’t last long, “I owe a lot to that woman, not everything but enough to know not to question her decisions on where to take my career.  Even if I wanted to seek different representation she’s got me in an iron clad contract for at least three solo albums.”

“What?!”

She couldn’t help her outburst.  While it was normal for a record label to offer contracts like that, she’d signed one herself for that matter, she was pretty sure it wasn’t standard for an agent to do the same.  Then again she didn’t actually have an agent of her own.  Regina was an employee of her label and didn’t need a separate contract with her and seemed more than happy to take care of everything herself.  Emma thought that things had been working out alright, aside from the fiasco that had put her right where she found herself at that very moment.

“I have been bound by this contract for quite a while, Swan,” he said wryly. “Since even before the accident.”

“But that’s gotta be extortion or something, right?” She asked indignantly. “I mean, it’s been almost fifteen years!”

He gave her a warm look, “There are plenty of people who have been with their agents for much longer and I thought I said no interruptions, love.”

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

“Realm of Jewels made Cora a very rich woman and an equally hot commodity in the industry.  I had already planned to do a few solo albums and signed with her because she was someone I already knew.  Back then I thought three albums was nothing, I had written material for at least six,” he said with a shrug. “After the accident and pulling myself out of the bottle she was gracious enough to allow me to do whatever I needed to do to get my life back on track.  Even if it meant nothing more than doing recording sessions for other artists’ work.  Of course, her patience could only be pushed so far and I’m sure I’d far exceeded the limit.  She started not so gently reminding me of my contractual obligations about a year ago.

“At the time I figured I could piecemeal something together from my old lyrics and maybe a cover or two to get an album together.  It wouldn’t have been great, fair to middling if anything, but it would have been enough to satisfy Cora for the time being.  I wasn’t excited by the prospect and in the meantime I was still being hired for session recordings.  One of which was for your album.”

Emma smiled and ducked her head.  He’d made it sound like it was some great honor instead of a few hours work on a couple of songs.  She didn’t even get to choose the musicians that got to record, that was all left up to the label, though she did get final say on how it sounded.  That didn’t mean to say she hadn’t gone back to listen to those backing tracks almost as much as the song he’d written for her.

“It was the day we were recording for Snowdrops and Buttercups that I first met Regina.  It just so happened to be the same day that Cora had come to the studio to once again remind me of my obligations.  What I wasn’t aware of was the fact that Cora is Regina’s mother-” Emma’s head shot up at that and he nodded, “Whatever you do try to avoid being in the same room as them, especially when business is involved.  I left the studio that day with my three album contract inexorably attached to the record label that Regina represented.  There was also the small inconvenience of a series of deadlines being imposed.  The first of which was having enough songs written to begin recording an album within six months.  When Ruby called about needing a replacement I had about two months left to put something recordable together.”

Emma bit her lip.  It was getting harder and harder to keep her comments and questions to herself.  Especially with the bomb he’d dropped about Regina and Cora.  She decided to take a sip of her tea instead.  Before her mug even made it to her lips Killian was grinning widely at her.

“Go ahead, love,” he said with a bow of his head.

She slammed her mug down, splashing tea over her hand.  With a hiss she shook off the droplets impatiently, ignoring Killian’s outstretched hand, not wanting to be deterred.

“Cora the heartless is Regina’s mother?!  And if you had only two months to write an entire album why the hell were you allowed to come on tour with me?  Is that why you had that lunch with Robin and Regina?  For the album?  Why didn’t you tell me all of this already?”

Killian’s expression immediately dropped into one of regret as she sat back, stunned at her directness.  She absentmindedly rubbed at the reddened spot on the back of her hand that the tea had spilled on.  The lingering pain was an excellent distraction from the tension that had sprung up between them.  With a click of his tongue Killian moved to the sink, wetting the corner of a dish rag.  When he turned back to her he paused and she gave him a nod, holding out her hand to him hoping he would see it as the olive branch she was offering.

“At first it didn’t seem as though it would be an issue,” he said quietly as he gently pressed the rag to her burn, “You only needed a temporary guitarist and as I mentioned earlier I had dozens of notebooks already filled with lyrics that would suffice.  Regina was the one who scheduled the meeting with Robin as soon as I was officially attached to the tour.  I believe her intention at the time was for me to hand over the completed songs and get the ball rolling as it were.  She, of course, had no idea that you and I would become what we did.”

“Did you, um, have any idea?” She asked hesitantly, dropping her gaze to where his hand was still holding the damp cloth to the back of hers.

He used his other hand to tip up her chin and looked her in the eye, “I’d hoped but I could never be quite sure how you felt.  Until Chicago.”

She wanted to confess that her hopes had started long before Chicago.  That he had somehow snuck past her defenses into her heart with his charm and unwavering support but she couldn’t.  He still hadn’t answered the question that mattered most to her.  With a sigh she pulled away from his gentle touch.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me any of this,” she said a bit sharper than she intended, her frustration and confusion bleeding into her tone. “We talked for hours on that damn bus.  I listened to you talk about how much better felt tip pens are than ball points three separate times!  Was it really so hard to say ‘by the way, Swan, I’ve signed with your manager and have to get an album written while we’re on the road’?”

He let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his hair, “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“And look where that got you,” she said with a humorless chuckle waving her hand between them. “If you’d said something off the bat I would have been pissed at you for, like maybe a week, and I also wouldn’t have gotten my heart broken.”

Emma froze.  She hadn’t meant to make that confession, especially when she wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what it was she felt for him.  Killian seemed caught off guard too, as he stood staring at her with wide eyes and not appearing to breathe.  He blinked and closed the small distance between them but made no move to touch her.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he murmured.

“You’re glad to hear I got my heart broken?” Her voice cracked and she pulled as far back from him as she could.

“If it can be broken, it means it still works,” he said softly but she could hear the hope in his words all the same. “I know I hurt you immeasurably, love, and I’ve earned no right to a second chance but if you can see it in you to do so I’ll gladly spend the rest of my days earning your back your trust and, perhaps in time, your heart.”

“Killian…”

“Finish your tea, Swan,” he said with a tight smile though his eyes were sparkling with the same hope she’d heard, “Don’t want it to get cold.”

She stared down at the amber liquid and watched the curling tendrils of steam as though they’d give her some kind of sign of what to do.  They didn’t, of course, not that she really believed it would be that easy.  There were still so many questions she wanted to ask but only one really mattered.  Guarding herself against a final blow she looked up at him with determination.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of it?  Or was it always your plan for me to find out from someone else?”

Killian jolted back, as though she’d slapped him.  He shook his head with a sigh before running a hand over his face.  When he caught her eye again the hope had been replaced with pain and a flash of the anger she’d thought was behind them.

“I’d intended to tell you everything the night of the interview over the dinner we were supposed to share at my home.  I suppose it was fortuitous that I’d listened to it or I would have sat with our meal laid out on the table, waiting for hours for your arrival.  As it was I had to endure one of Regina’s assistants traipsing through the house, gathering your items and ignoring my pleas to explain what the hell was going on.  Then, of course, there was to be no explanations forthcoming for nearly three days and absolute devastation once I’d received them.  But after all that my feelings for you never changed, not once.”

Emma sucked in a breath at that.  Even as he was justifiably dressing her down for what she’d done he was still playing it safe.  He’d never stated outright what he felt for her but she knew without a doubt what he wasn’t saying.  Funny thing was, his caution made her realize exactly what she felt for him with startling clarity.  She gave a little laugh that bordered on manic but she was helpless against the sudden euphoria she was feeling.

Killian glared at her, “I won’t have you laughing-”

“I love you.”

The words seemed to hang between them in the quiet kitchen like a line cast out to the unknown.  She could only hope that Killian would grasp onto them and tether her heart to his.  As the silence stretched out she found she only wished she had told him sooner instead of dragging out both their heartaches.  Shaking her head at her own stubborn foolishness she gave him a tremulous smile.

“I love you and I’m sorry.  I was trying so hard to protect myself from getting hurt again that I just hurt us both so much more instead.  I’m so tired of feeling like I tore a piece of my own heart out.  You said your feelings haven’t changed.  I want this.  I want us.  Do you?”

Instead of answering her with words Killian moved at a speed that surprised her.  Almost before she had finished the question he was standing in front of her, his arms bracketing her with his hands on the back of the chair and the counter.  His expression was deadly serious but his eyes were lit with joy as he leaned into her space.

“Swan, I want nothing more.”

Her smile was cut off by his lips pressing to hers.  She gasped as one of his hands delved into her hair while the other banded around her waist, his thumb stroking at the skin above the waistband of her jeans.  It was as if he was pouring every emotion into the kiss.  His passion, his elation, his fervor, and most of all his love.  With a moan she pulled him impossibly closer, hooking her ankles around the back of his legs to draw him in.

To her surprise he broke away, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, “There’s one last thing that needs to be said.”

“Now?” She panted, arching up slightly to nip at his lower lip. “Can’t it wait?”

“Not really,” he groaned.  He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, sliding his mouth to her ear where he quietly sang to her, “But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say, My love, I'm in love with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes as he pulled back, looking at her as though she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.  He gently brushed away the few tears that had fallen with a finger, following closely behind with soft kisses that travelled across her cheeks, leaving her wanting more.  By the time he moved to her mouth the heat between them had returned but she leaned back before he could press more than one delicate kiss to her lips.

“Emma,” he growled, his hand flexing on the back of her neck, his eyes hot.

“You know, you never gave me a tour of the place-” she gave him a teasing smile and gave an exaggerated look around, “I bet there’s all sorts of interesting rooms.”

He caught on quickly, his smile unfurling into something wicked, “Indeed there are, my love.  Shall we begin with the bedroom?”

He didn’t give her the chance to answer as he swiftly pulled her up from her chair and tugged her quickly down the hallway.

Much, much later Emma was seated back at the breakfast bar in nothing but her underwear and Killian’s Led Zeppelin shirt.  Her feet were perched in Killian’s lap, which was covered by dark blue boxer briefs that he’d only pulled on when the pizza they’d ordered had arrived.  She tried to smother a giddy grin behind her crust but he caught sight of it and raised a brow at her.

“Something you’d like to share, Swan?”

“I’m just-” she gave a little shrug, “happy.  I guess I’m still trying to process it.”

“I know what you mean, love,” he agreed, his hand dropping to her ankle to give it a squeeze. “If someone had told me yesterday that we would be here tonight, like this, I wouldn’t have believed them.  Now, if they’d predicted us reconciling by the end of the week I wouldn’t have questioned it.”

“No?” She asked, humming in pleasure at the confidence in his voice.

“You’re not the only one who can wheedle an address out of Regina,” he said with a wink.  Then he grew serious, “If I hadn’t heard from you by the end of the week I was planning on driving up to Maine to plead my case.”

“I’m surprised she gave it to you,” she mumbled around a bite of her crust. “She was all worried about you breaching your contract because of deadlines two weeks ago.  A side trip to Maine would definitely eat into your studio time or something.”

“Oh-” Killian scratched behind his ear and then said offhandedly, “I’ve, er, been in breach of my contract since I posted that video, love.”

Her last bite fell from her fingers as she gaped at him.  A flush was rising along the back of his neck and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“What?”

“Well, according to some of the very fine print in it I was forbidden from releasing any music by means other than through the label-” he shrugged and waved a hand as though dismissing the seriousness of the situation, “My lawyer assures me that at most I’ll only have to pay a minimal fine.”

“Pay a…” she brought her palms to her temples, “Killian that’s still going to be thousands of dollars.”

“I would have posted a hundred unsanctioned songs and paid every cent I have to my name just to get you to talk to me again,” he said matter of factly.  He leaned over and plucked the piece of crust from her lap, tossing it into the open pizza box before fixing her gaze with his, “And it would have been worth it.  You are worth everything.”

She dropped her hands with a huff, “Stop being romantic when I’m worrying about you.”

“Never,” he said with a wide grin that made his eyes crinkle. “And you don’t need to worry about me, Swan, I’m a survivor.”

“I love you,” she said with a shrug, “I’ll always worry about you.”

His grin mellowed into something that made her feel warm and cherished.  He leaned over and grasped her stool, dragging it towards him until the already small distance between them was narrowed so only a puff of air could pass through.  She gave a wayward thought to the state of his floors at the abuse they suffered but it vanished as his hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb drawing a delicate arc across her cheekbone.

“I love you too,” he murmured just above a whisper, his eyes intent on hers, “I always will.”

Her happy sigh was swallowed by his lips on hers.  The kiss was far more gentle than any of the others they had shared, even the ones from before their separation.  With a slight thrill she realized that they would have hundreds, even thousands, more kisses of all sorts in the years to come.  As they parted she couldn’t help her giddy smile at the thought.

Killian raised his brow at her, his gaze teasing, “Already, Swan?  We’ve only just surfaced.”

“What?  No!” She laughed, pushing him back, “I mean, yeah but not like that.  I was thinking about us kissing but years from now kind of kisses.”

“Years from now,” he repeated in awe.  He leaned back towards her, “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too,” she sighed.  Then she crinkled her nose at him, “Even if I do end up supporting you because you have to keep paying fines since you’re a big YouTube star now.  I know how you guys gotta keep posting content.”

“Har, har, love.  Just so you know, Cora has already spun this in my favor,” he said smugly. “She’s convinced the label that it’s the perfect way to garner attention for my forthcoming album.  Which is why I’ll only be paying a minimal fine instead of what it easily could have been.”

Emma sat back, “So you’re still going to do it?  Record the album?”

“Not exactly, no,” he said with a crooked smile, “The songs I was planning on recording before are, quite honestly, rubbish.  I’ve had a wellspring of inspiration these past few weeks.  Robin is quite pleased with them as a matter of fact and he’s not hold back over the years when something of mine is only worthy of a bin.  I’ll be heading to the studio once the whole contract debacle is taken care of.  That is, of course, only if you agree.”

“Agree to what?” She asked, confused.

“The songs, my love-” he dropped his eyes for a moment and when he looked back up his gaze was wary, “You, us, what we’ve been through?  Well… you know.”

And she did.  She’d written dozens of songs about the man who’d left her in jail and pregnant and just as many about her lonely childhood in foster care.  There was more than one notebook filled with longing ballads about the son she’d never even held.  Hell, the notebook in her purse was pages of scribbles and half formed lyrics about Killian and their time together.  So she knew exactly what he was getting at.  She also had one niggling thought about it.

“Yeah, I do,” she said with a slow nod.  Reaching towards him she took his hand between hers, “I think you should record the songs you’ve written, even the ones that I know don’t paint me in the best light, but I do have one request.”

“Anything,” he breathed, his hand flexing in hers.

“I don’t want to hear any of them until the final mix-” she let go of his hand to cover his mouth as he tried to protest, “No, hear me out first.  I’m sure the songs are good, great even since Robin is excited about them, and that’s exactly why I want to wait to hear them.  I know how much work goes into making an album and thanks to Ruby you know exactly how big a fan I am of your music.  I just- I think I want to have that giddy moment listening to your first big solo album as the finished thing.”

Killian tugged her hand away from his lips and gave her a wry grin, “So you want to enjoy the sausage without seeing all the unappetizing steps of how it gets made?”

“Uh, weird analogy but yeah,” she said, relieved that it hadn’t caused another fight, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the pigs before slaughter though.”

“So you’ll berate me for the initial analogy but then proceed to take it to a much darker place.  I see how your mind works, Swan,” Killian said with narrowed eyes and a look of mock sternness.

“I work with what I’m given,” she said with a shrug.

Killian huffed out a laugh before he grew serious, taking the hand that was still in his and placing them both over his heart, “You can look at every song I’ve ever written, love.  Even the shit ones from primary school.”

She gave him a smile she knew was giddy, “Oh, I definitely want to look at those but I think for now I’ll stick to your most recent ones.”

“Wise decision,” he murmured,half rising from his stool, “Shall I go get them now?”

“No, it’s late, I can look at them tomorrow-” she flexed her fingers on his chest and when he looked back at her she tried to let him see every ounce of love she was feeling, “I’m not going anywhere.”

His smile unfurled slowly but adoration and love was bright in his eyes, “Good.”

[aliferous-ly]

shelter

jus a warmup but i hope u enjoy!! sofd anxceit,, i lvoe them

summary: Virgil isn't a soft person. But sitting on his fire escape with Dee has always been his comfort, and maybe, just for Dee, Virgil can be soft. 

warnings: incorrect fire escape usage, two swear words (f word), patton and roman are namedropped but thats it, anything else lmk!

pairing: anxceit 

tagging @gr3ml1n-loser​ for the softd anxceit idea, and @brain-iak​ and @pattons-cat-hoodie​ for their support !! also all of them asked fhkdslf

---

Virgil has no idea what the laws about fire escapes are, but he feels like he might be breaking a few of them. 

Like, he knows that nobody cares if he chills on the fire escape to escape more than fire, but he’s started transforming it into a getaway, of sorts. He has a waterproof mat that he regularly dries off, places a towel to buffer, and piles with blankets. He strung up some fairy lights the other day when he saw similar lights strung around Patton’s room, because, fuck it, right? 

Which is odd, Virgil knows. The fire escape isn’t his balcony. He doesn’t have a balcony. In fact, he dreams of the day he has the money for an apartment with a balcony. 

The other day Patton gifted him a succulent and Virgil doesn’t want it to die, so he finds a spot for it on his fire escape. 

And he’s sitting there, at eleven o'clock at night, when loud clanging sounds above him. 

Startling, Virgil forces himself to focus on keeping his tea in his mug instead of splattered across his blankets. There’s a few more noises, a window closing, some breaths. 

“Hey, Virge,” his neighbor to the north says. He’s leaning over the edge of his own fire escape, teeth and eyes bright in the starlight. Fabric drapes along his arms, soft and loose. 

“Hey,” Virgil says. He settles further into his hoodie, back pressed against a pillow, supported by the external wall of the building. He peers up at his neighbor. “Coming down?” 

His neighbor makes a noise of confirmation before disappearing. Moments later, he slips down the fire escape, touching down softly on Virgil’s private getaway. 

He sinks down, expression smoothing. He practically melts into his own pillow setup, a tired sigh escaping his lips. 

Virgil hums. Drinks some tea. Stares at the lights of the city. 

“You would not believe how the actor for Belle treated me today,” Dee starts. Virgil reaches to a spot outside the realm of blankets, grabbing another mug and handing it to Dee, who takes it without preamble. He takes a sip with one hand, the other settling on the blankets between them. 

Virgil watches his movements absently. He makes a noise deep in his throat, confirming that he’s listening to Dee’s story. 

Dee talks, and talks, and talks, but it doesn’t sound like rambling. Everything he says is concise, well-thought out, to the point. He’s only talking about his day, a day in the life of a community theater stage hand, but Virgil feels warmed all the same. 

He reaches a point where he says, “and then, the newbie says he doesn’t know how to throw weight,” and Virgil cuts in with, “seems like he can barely pull his own weight,” and Dee startles. 

The night moves forward, clouds slugging across the sky, choked by pollution. But Dee laughs, and the stars shine a little brighter, the breeze feels a little warmer, the night grows a little quieter. 

Virgil smiles into his mug. 

“You know,” Dee says. Virgil can read his hesitation on the slight stick of the word, in his fingers twining around the soft blankets, in his shoulders shifting and tightening. “We’re gonna make it, you and I.” 

Virgil tears his gaze away from Dee’s hands, their eyes locking together. He can’t see the color of Dee’s eyes in the darkness, not really, but the shine of the fairy lights and Virgil’s memory fill in the striking green easily enough. 

Dee’s staring at him like he can solve the world’s problems. No -- not the world’s problems. Dee’s problems. Like Virgil could say the word and his worries would vanish, dissipating in the cool spring air. 

Virgil doesn’t know what to do with this power. 

For now, though, he’ll keep stealing Dee’s nights, holding his time hostage as they soak in the city and each other’s company. 

Virgil doesn’t reply. He sets his mug down on a blanket-less surface to prevent spilling. He shifts, shrinking the space between them inches at a time and tangling their fingers together. 

He holds Dee’s hand with reverence, memorizing the creases and calluses for the dozenth time. I know, he says in brushing his thumb against the back of Dee’s hand. We’ll make it together, he adds, pressing nimble fingers against Dee’s strong wrist. 

Dee hums. One of his hands still holds the mug but his other slides easily into Virgil’s own halting Virgil’s wordless conversation. 

He leans back against the pillow, peering up at the tangle of metal stretching above them. Up, up, up, all the way to the apartments Virgil and Dee cannot afford, even in such a run down building as this one. 

“Roman?” Virgil asks, cutting through the gentle softness of the night. They aren’t soft, not exactly. They have jagged edges, torn through situations neither likes to talk about, but sitting on a fire escape surrounded by soft things sometimes allows them to forget. 

Like a game of pretend. Like sitting together, two shattered people trying to claw their way back up, this time legally, like sitting in the quiet and talking about easy topics will change their life. 

Well. Virgil considers. It has changed their life, even a little bit, hasn’t it? 

Dee shifts. His thumb runs circles against Virgil’s wrist. Virgil catches the glint of a smile. “He said we’re in it for the long haul,” he says. He turns to look at Virgil as he says it, and Virgil’s hit with the full force of Dee’s grin. 

Every time Dee smiles his entire face transforms. He could topple nations with the quirk of his lips alone. 

Virgil, though. His chest swells up, emotion thrumming against every nerve, and he smiles back. 

Dee looks away first, looking overwhelmed. They’re closer than they were before, their shoulders pressing. Virgil can feel warmth through the many layers of clothing between them. 

Dee takes a breath, staring pointedly at the world beyond them, and continues. “Roman got a callback for a travelling group. The callback is scheduled for next week. If he makes it, he’ll have a five month tour. If he lands a good spot, I’ll be with him.”

“That’s a long time,” Virgil says out loud. He leans, dropping his head against Dee’s shoulder. I don’t want you to leave but I want you to go. 

“Yeah,” Dee says, instead of the thousand other thoughts that Virgil knows are swirling around his head. Such as, come with me. Live with me. Leave your apartment, quit your shitty office job, become an author a poet an artist, the person you always wanted to be. Write that song. Laugh. Paint a picture so gorgeous everyone will stop and stare. Live. 

Dee settles his head against the top of Virgil’s, the two of them curled together like birds seeking warmth. “Yeah,” he says instead. 

They don’t have arguments on the fire escape. It’s their ever present unspoken rule, and Virgil knows that Dee feels just as strongly about the sanctity of existing together in a space never tainted. 

They talk about life, but not about movement. 

But, maybe this once… 

“Maybe,” Virgil whispers. The words steal away in the darkness, lost in the rumble of car engines and sounds of the city. 

Dee tenses. His arm, which has slipped around Virgil’s back, holds him tighter. Virgil can read the questions in his movement. The hope beaming out of the cracks in Dee’s facade. 

“Not now,” Virgil says. He knows the words leave a lot up to interpretation; not now what? Not now, Virgil can’t move? Can’t uproot his life? Not now, he can’t deal with hard questions? 

But Virgil just knows, he knows between the subtle shifts and parted lips, that Dee caught his meaning. Not now. Virgil can’t talk about this right now. But Virgil knows Dee also caught the underlying later. 

Virgil exhales. Between the glitter of the fairy lights and the city beyond them, Virgil feels wrapped in a little bubble of his own making. 

Safe. 

Dee moves, just enough to set his own mug down and settle more completely against Virgil’s form. I love you, Virgil says, in tapping against Dee’s thigh, in melting in Dee’s arms. 

A quiet moment, the city sounding so, so far away, then; I love you too, Dee says, fingers sliding against Virgil’s arm, cheek pressed against the crown of Virgil’s head. 

Virgil doesn’t have a balcony. He doesn’t have the money for it. 

But wrapped in Dee’s arms, lights glittering around them, the night loud far away but quiet where they sit, he thinks that maybe a balcony isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. 

After all, Virgil has never been more content than when he’s sitting on his fire escape, Dee by his side. 

[aras-dg-archive]

Tagged by @realsilentsaint​ TYSM for the tag!!!!!! (edit to add in a tag from @sukiwife​ <3)

Tagging: @airbendertylee​, @cardboardseagulls​, @stan-suki​​, @maitaras​, @mai-fruit-tarts​, @trans-suki​, @zukostrans​, @avatar-chang​, @sokkable​, and @s-suki​​ 

Rules: List your favourite character from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people.

So in no order whatsoever (and counting the three different ‘series’ of Avatar as three different things because there are too many great characters and I would’ve struggled to make the ten otherwise):

Suki (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Wholesome bean but also super badass. 10/10

Korra (The Legend of Korra)

Korra is the definition of badass and someone who really helped me get through a tough spot and I love her so much. 10/10

Kyoshi (Avatar: Rise of Kyoshi)

Wholesome bean. Deserves all the love and protection. 10/10

Dax (Star Trek)

Kinda cheating because Dax is a symbiotic entity with multiple hosts but anyways... Jadzia Dax (left) is the definition of cool, she’s super confident, flirty, and just super amazing (also there’s some very Star Trek trans rep in there with Dax’s previous host being a dude and a whole bunch of people in the show knew the previous host). Ezri Dax (right) is a wholesome bean who deserves all the love in the world, she’s the opposite of Jadzia in all the best ways (dorky and awkward in the most loveable ways) and she’s just the best. 20/10 (because there’s two of them)

Aloy (Horizon: Zero Dawn)

Aloy is just super cool in so many ways. She can be super wholesome or super snarky and I love all of it. HZD has her go through probably my favourite story of any medium and she’s just amazing. 10/10

Scarlett Jones (Aurora Rising)

Scarlett is just super awesome in that she has this super quick, quippy, ‘everyone wants to be with her and everyone wants to be her’ facade but underneath she’s this super genuine and caring person. 10/10

Catra (She Ra)

Catra is the only reason why I watched She Ra all the way through. When S1 came out and all the dudes™️ were like ‘uuuuurrrhhh they made this show I love look less hot and I’m pissed’ I got curious and started watching the show. Catra’s arc (and her as a character) even in season 1 captivated me and made me want to keep watching and I love her for it. 10/10

Eight (Doctor Who)

Even though the movie is a bit bad I still love Paul McGann’s portrayal of the Doctor. He is, like, the only Doctor who’s head isn’t up their ass and honestly it’s really nice to see. You don’t have to act like a dick to everyone to come across as ‘alien’. 10/10

Rei (Neon Genesis Evangelion)

Rei’s story in NGE, to me, is one of finding confidence in yourself and gaining some self determination and I love how she grows throughout the show (plus she’s the cutest in the Shinji Ikari Raising Project). 10/10

Squirrel Girl (Marvel Comics)

Doreen Green, aka Squirrel Girl, aka the most powerful hero in Marvel Comics, basically wins over her enemies with the power of friendship and it’s amazing. Ryan North’s Unbeatable Squirrel Girl comics are probably some of the most inspiring, heartfelt, and funny comics you can read and he takes Squirrel Girl from a joke character to one of the best in Marvel Comics (IMHO). 10/10

[sunny1ace]

Fix You- Part 3.1 of the FamAU

Characters: Logan Sanders, Patton Hart

Summary: Logan Sanders fell in love with Patton Hart at precisely 5:37pm on a Thursday evening. 

Words: 3000

Warnings: Self doubt, I think that’s all, let me know if I should add another!

A/N: Here we go folks, time to actually get into the story! This part will have five chapters in total, hope you like it!

Taglist (let me know if I should add you): @espepspes @kaileah-kat @i-need-you-buddy

***

Logan Sanders fell in love with Patton Hart at precisely 5:37pm on a Thursday evening. 

He’d been ranting about nebulas for ten minutes and seventeen seconds when his face started to heat up. He was talking too much, as usual. 

His mouth had snapped shut as he waited for Patton’s sigh of relief that never came. 

“So does that mean new stars are born in graveyards?” Patton asked instead, eyes wide as he propped his head in his hands. 

Logan opened his mouth to launch into another long explanation and then caught himself for the second time. “It takes quite a while to explain. I’m sure there are other things you’d rather do.”

Patton had tilted his head, blinking blankly back at Logan. He didn’t even understand what Logan was getting at. “I like listening to you though.”

“You do?”

Then, Patton had smiled in that way he does, where his eyes crinkle and his cheeks turn pink. “I could listen for hours.”

“I see.”

“Besides, the universe is cool! It connects us all! And it’s comforting to know that no matter where you are, you can always look at the same constellation as the person you love.” 

That was the turning point for Logan, the point where he realized that his brain may only hold enough information to talk for a few days about facts without a break, but he could talk about Patton for the rest of his life and never run out of things to say. 

At precisely 2:48 on a Tuesday morning, nearly two years later, Logan Sanders is still in love with Patton Hart. 

He flops back onto his bed and groans loudly to his empty dorm room, turning his head to the side to look at his previous roommates vacant bed. 

The college senior was a few years older than Logan, always going out to party and coming in late smelling like alcohol and sweat. 

Logan disliked him for the majority of their time living together, but on his last day, the man had shaken Logan’s hand and told him thank you, and that he’d never have made it without Logan helping him study. 

It’s odd how one never really sees their impact on people until they’re told to their face.

Now though, the man he can’t even remember the name of is gone, just like Logan will be soon. 

People are graduating, and graduating means leaving, and leaving means that-

Well, leaving means that Patton might never know what Logan wants to tell him. 

He’d had a plan he wrote the second he got his hands on a notebook after he realized his predicament. 

His ‘Three Hundred and Three Step Plan to Confess to Patton Hart’. 

The thing is, he’s only on step one hundred. It would be impossible to finish before the week is up, and the two friends part ways. 

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been trying, he just didn’t think it would be so hard. For instance, step thirty in itself took him four weeks to complete, just because Patton’s favorite flower changed almost every day!

That and… he couldn’t even look at the list for almost six months after he made it.

In his excitement and panic, he hadn’t actually taken time to think about what being in love meant.

It had actually been Patton who’d referred him to a therapist. It took them eight months until Logan could say “I’m gay” without going into a panic attack.

Now, he can say it easily, but it doesn’t matter much when he can’t say it to the person he wants to.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. 

Sitting up, he slides his glasses back onto his face and lets out an even breath. He has to think logically. 

Except there isn’t anything remotely logical about love. 

At least not that he’s aware of. 

Patton would know.

Logan groans again and drops his head in his hands. He is not asking for love advice from the person he is in love with.

The voice in his head tells him to go to sleep, and he glances at his alarm clock. It’s nearly three am. Logan has spent almost all night up thinking about love, of all things. 

Any other night he would get up to do work, might as well if he can’t sleep, Patton Would hand him a coffee and a bagel in the morning and tell him to stop working so hard, but he unfortunately doesn’t have any work to do. 

Graduation is in a week. 

Now he’s back to where he started. 

“This isn’t healthy,” he says to the empty room. 

Perhaps if he went for a walk it would clear his head?

Debating the dangers of a small town college campus at three am, Logan nods and climbs out of bed. 

He busies himself getting dressed, pulling on a polo and picking out a tie. He used to despise the outfit, even though he never wore anything else. 

It’s what they made him. Gray and uninteresting. 

“I got a little brain design embroidered on it! Now it’s unique and all your style!”

Patton really does know how to make someone comfortable. 

Now, the outfit doesn’t make him hate himself, but it’s still not so over the top to bring up past issues. 

The real question is, how could one not love Patton?

Logan almost trips on his carpet. 

Who could not love Patton?

He isn’t even sure someone else doesn’t! He doesn’t know if Patton is in love with someone else! He’s pretty sure he’s not dating at least, Patton tends to share every minute of his day with Logan. 

If he was dating someone, Logan would know. 

Theoretically. 

For the dozenth time that night, Logan takes a deep breath and tells himself to calm down. He’s just sleep deprived is all. 

Sleep deprivation is clinically proven to mess with one’s functionality and thought process. 

Pulling on his last shoe, Logan opens his door quietly, his keys tucked in his palm. 

There’s a soft ball of fabric that rubs up against his wrist when he holds his keys in such a way. It’s a stimulant comfort, and though he won’t admit it, it holds emotional value as well. 

Patton had bought him the soft keychain on a trip to an observatory with his astronomy class. It was in some rundown gas station that Logan can’t remember the name of. 

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that most things he has an emotional attachment to has come from Patton. 

The air outside is still and warm, May turning to June with longer days, greener leaves, and the feeling of dread that comes with leaving school. 

Every step on the concrete clicks, breaking the silence in the sleeping campus. 

One step, click, another, click, on and on and on again until Logan has completely lost track of where he’s going. 

He’s just walking as the thoughts whirl in his head, in and out with every steady breath. 

Logan has always meditated best during walks. 

Minutes turn into hours, and he finds himself circling around the entire campus, finally stopping back where he started from. 

Just at that moment, his phone buzzes, sounding the alarm that it’s time to start walking to history. 

The alarm is actually twenty minutes ahead of time, but he’s set it just right to where if he leaves within five minutes, he’ll be able to cross paths with Patton on the others way to animal science. 

Patton usually leaves early to get coffee for his professor, and Logan tags along. 

It’s his favorite fifteen minutes out of every Tuesday. 

So Logan turns again, and with sore feet he hadn’t realized were sore until now, he starts walking. 

He makes it halfway there before a shout sounds behind him and Logan slows but doesn’t stop, keeping up his facade. 

“Hey Logan!” Patton exclaims happily. He steps up to Logan and bumps their hips together, Patton’s equivalent of a nonintrusive hug. “How are you?”

Logan nods and adjusts his glasses. “I am well.”

“You sure? You’re looking a little tired.”

“That would be because I am.” Logan sends a small smile towards his friend. “Not to worry, one bad night of sleep won’t stop me from functioning properly.”

Patton giggles and nods, walking along with Logan. His steps are wide, occasionally veering to one side or speeding up to step over a crack in the sidewalk. 

Logan’s are stiff and long, but he walks just a little slower so Patton can keep up. 

“How are you, Patton?”

Looking up from the ladybug he’d been watching, Patton’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m awesome! On the way here I saw a woodpecker!”

“Considering where we are,” Logan starts as he slows his pace even more to accommodate Patton, “It’s more likely you saw a Northern Flicker. They do look quite alike.”

Patton wiggles his eyebrows. “Do you want to see my impression of a Northern Flicker?”

At Logan’s nod he flicks his fingers out in front of him, grinning at Logan with a glint in his eye. 

“I don’t see how that resembles a bir- oh. Oh because you’re flicking to the North- that’s- that’s completely awful.”

“You love me,” Patton coos, batting his eyelashes. 

More than he knows. 

“Do you have lunch plans today?”

Patton reties his cardigan and shakes his head, “Nope! None.”

“Neither do I.”

There’s a painstaking silence for a few yards and then Logan clears his throat. “Would you like to attend lunch together?”

“Yeah!” Patton clasps his hands behind him as he walks and scrunches his nose to keep his glasses from sliding off. “We’ve been friends long enough that you don’t have to ask anymore, Lo.”

Logan just about falls over. 

Stopping off at the coffee shop, Logan pulls the door open for Patton, then stays behind him as he makes his way through the small shop, smiling and waving at almost everyone inside. 

Logan learned a long time ago to let Patton do almost all of the actual socializing in social situations. His charisma and naturally kind face just makes it easier for him. 

Most people already know Patton, addressing him by name or waving shyly. 

There are basically two options after meeting Patton, like him, or adore him. 

Logan has found the majority pick the latter. 

“Hey Patt!” Calls a young person making their way out the door.

“Eliot! Hey!” Patton waves excitedly. “How’d the English final go?”

“Aced it!”

“Aw kiddo! I knew you could do it!”

Blushing a little at the praise, Eliot snorts. “Getting coffee for Professor Aldridge again?”

“You bet!” Patton responds with an achingly bright smile. 

The student laughs and shakes their head. “Man, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you’re a suck up!”

They leave with their friend after that, and Logan leans over to speak in a low voice to Patton. “If they did know you any better, they’d know you are, in fact, a suck up.”

Patton gasps and pushes Logan’s arm lightly. “Am not! I just like doing nice things for people… and if it happens to make some professors more inclined to give me extensions more often… that’s pretty neat!”

“I’m fairly certain that’s the definition of a suck up.”

“Coffee, Lo?”

Logan chuckles. “Buying me something to get out of a conversation? That’s a bribe. Which is a crime in some states.”

“I guess that makes me a criminal,” Patton starts, getting that glint in his eye that always comes with a pun, “criminally-“

“Black coffee if you don’t mind,” Logan interrupts. 

Patton pays for the order with a cheery tone, turning down Logan’s offer to pay for it. “I dragged you here anyway!” He says. 

“On the contrary. You didn’t drag me anywhere.”

Smile softening into something that -well, for lack of proper vocabulary- figuratively makes Logan’s heart melt, Patton nods. “No, I guess I didn’t.”

The two start back on their way to their respective classes, and Logan counts the steps until they have to part ways. 

“Are you nervous about leaving school?” Patton asks after a few seconds of comfortable silence, broken only by Patton blowing on his hot chocolate. 

Logan doesn’t say anything as he takes a sip of his coffee, pretending not to be startled by the heat in his throat, he turns the question over in his head to try and figure it out. Is he nervous about leaving?

Or nervous about leaving Patton?

“I’m nervous,” Patton plows on, not minding Logan’s silence. “After this it’s just us against the world, you know? The future we’ve been preparing for since preschool is finally here and… I’m not ready at all.”

Looking at Patton in surprise, Logan frowns. “You aren’t ready? Are you alright?”

Patton shuffles his feet for a few steps, widening his smile. “Of course I’m alright! Just a little apprehensive is all.”

“Patton..” Logan slows and lightly bumps his hip into his friends, “you can talk to me.”

“I know I can!” Patton wiggles his eyebrows, “What? Have I been speaking gibberish?”

“Ah. Humor to cope. Why am I not surprised.”

“Well aren’t you feisty today!”

“It must be due to the-“

“Like a cat.”

“-lack of sleep last night.”

“Because cats are feisty.”

Logan adjusts his glasses with a sigh. “Yes. I understood, I merely refrained from commenting on the unnecessary joke.”

“Jokes are never unnecessary!” Patton protests, and it’s then Logan realizes he’s successfully changed the subject. 

“If you don’t wish to tell me what’s troubling you, you don’t have to,” Logan says quietly. 

Patton stalls. “It’s not that! I trust you Lo!” He bites his lip and then shrugs. “I’m just in a funk! I’ll be back to normal me any minute!”

“Patton-“

Already turning towards his own class, Patton waves, “I’ll see you at lunch!”

Logan sighs and gives a small wave, “Have a satisfactory day Patton, I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Don’t forget how incredible you are!” Patton calls out, the routine end to all their conversations. 

Routine. 

Constant. 

That’s what Patton is. 

Everything about him is constant, and when one loses their constant…

They tend to fall apart. 

Logan spends his entire class period rewriting his plan to confess to Patton. 

Right now, he’s not exactly making good progress. If he wants to finish before they split ways, he needs to revise it. 

The professor drones on about graduation, the same speech Logan’s heard in every class for the last week. 

A few of the students cry, some hug. 

Considering what kept him up all night, he’s a hypocrite for finding all the emotions icky, but he can’t help it. 

He pulls out a notebook from his bag and flips to a blank page. At the top, in bold letters he writes “Confess To Patton”, under that, he writes “Step One”. His pen stops moving.

“Fuck,” He mouths, surprising himself with the out of character swear word. The thing is, he has no idea how to do this. 

To the side of him, a girl snorts and then nods at him, giving him a look that Logan has come to translate as ‘me too’. 

The girl has been sitting next to him the entire term, and when Logan found out she was deaf, he’d started helping translate what she can’t read off the professors lips. 

Patton says it’s very kind, Logan tells him it’s common decency. 

Smiling tightly at her, he turns back to his thoughts and falls back on the only thing that’s never failed him, Logan pulls out his phone to do some research.

‘How to tell someone you have feelings for them- WikiHow’

It’s not like he has much dignity anyway. He clicks on the article, reading the first few steps.

‘Consider your chances,’ Logan reads silently, then drops his head forward onto the desk, propping his chin on his arms. “Fuck,” he repeats.

The girl snorts again and passes him a chocolate bar with a sympathetic smile. 

Humans are confusing.

Trying to mimic what Patton would do, Logan pockets the candy and signs thank you. 

The girl grins and signs you’re welcome back. 

Pen poised over his paper, Logan treads on, reading every step carefully and critically before switching to another site and reading that one too. Afer a good half lecture of reading, he sets his phone down and starts making a list of his own.

Step One: Find out if he’s interested in anyone else

Step Two: Analyze body language

Step Three: Talk to his friends

Step four: Ask him to lunch

Step Five: Dress nicely

Step six: Convey attraction

As an afterthought he adds: Step Seven: Work damage control

Now he has a list. Logan has always believed starting with a list is the most efficient way to get things done. Now all he has to do is convert it into an hour by hour, day by day schedule for the last week they have until graduation.

That, and actually follow the schedule.

It really can’t be that hard.

Right?

The professor dismisses the class, reminding them that this is the last class of his for this term, or forever if they’re graduating. 

Movement out of the corner of his eye makes Logan look down. The deaf girl writes a quick note on his paper, signs a heart and then picks up her bag to leave. 

“Believe in yourself! You’ll do great! You always do.”

Logan decides he doesn’t mind the clutter on his paper this one time. He goes to sign his thanks, and realizes she’s already gone. 

For some reason, his chest aches knowing he’ll probably never see her again. 

Maybe Patton is rubbing off on him, making every human interaction mean more than they did before college. 

Although, nothing really meant anything before college. 

Packing up his own stuff, Logan sets his jaw, the girls written words running through his mind. 

He can do this.

[wittyblather]

Budding (SilMil Makoto/Nephrite)

On the night of a ball thrown for Princess Serenity, Nephrite escapes into the garden for some time alone. Princess Jupiter has the same idea.

SilMil Mako/Neph, fluffy and angst-free. Mostly.

(Ok, hands up if the world desperately needs more SilMil content. What am I supposed to do, write it myself? :|

Thanks so much to my co-writer minorvariation. <3 She is responsible for Jupiter here, and she is the best ever.)

Over a decade as one of Endymion's Shitennou, a lifetime as a noble before that, and Nephrite still hasn't learned to suffer parties. Or balls. Or feasts. Or anything of the sort. Force him out of his observatory and one may as well strip his personality from him entirely.

Endymion's teased him for it before. How different is the Nephrite the kingdom sees -- stoic, drawn off to a corner somewhere, hand clutched around an untouched drink -- from the Nephrite he and his friends know. The Nephrite who can talk for hours, if no one sees fit to interrupt him. The Nephrite who, in his way, has a wit to rival Zoisite's, and a way with footwork that would net him half the girls in North America, if he ever learned to use it outside his weekly swordsmanship drills.

He could have the world, Endymion said, if only he didn't disappear at these things.

Utter foolishness.

A cape twirls at the edge of the golden ballroom, a flurry of auburn and grey that most won't see. His sense of duty pains him for a moment -- surely the king expects him to remain and entertain their Millennian guests -- but the feast and opening niceties have already passed, and he's certain every foreign eye that needed to see him already has.

Zoisite is clever enough to cover for his absence if it's noticed. Kunzite has a deathgrip on security, as he always does, and the girls have Jadeite if they are in desperate need of a dance. There's no place for him here.

Secretly, or maybe not so secretly, he's glad for it.

Nephrite escapes to the gardens but a few minutes later, and for the first time in hours, he feels like he can breathe.

It's a beautiful night. Clear, not a single star obscured, the moonlight streaming silver in the waters of the garden. Even in his armor, he's yet to overheat or sweat, cooled by a breeze rising from the west. Why they choose to have a ball in that stifling palace instead of on the lawn, he'll never know.

Truthfully, he doesn't know if any of the Lunar delegation have seen the gardens at all; he's never had the honor of setting foot on the Moon, but from the tales he's heard, they manicure the flowers in their great sea craters down to the petal, cultivated from birth for perfection, a mosaic of colors and smells the people of Earth have yet to dream of. The palace's bushes and marble planters must seem primitive in comparison, a patch of barely tended weeds, and maybe that is why his noble masters want to fete the Lunarians in an overdecorated hall instead.

Still, if he had to choose, could he bear to sacrifice the wild, untamed, mortal beauty of the Earth for all the cold perfection the Moon could --

"It seems we've had the same idea."

Nephrite startles out of his thoughts in an instant, whirling on his heel. Behind him, still half-cloaked in darkness, the princess of Jupiter regards him with smiling emerald eyes.

There's not a moment's rest tonight, is there? Stars almighty. But he is nothing if not practiced at putting on a facade.

That spark of surprise and the looseness of his bearing immediately disappear. Soon, it is Nephrite of the Golden Kingdom that stands before her. Nephrite, the somewhat frazzled, introverted man musing to himself in a garden, has fled into the night, as he so often does.

"Princess Jupiter," he says, one hand on his heart, sinking to the appropriate bow for her rank. He tries desperately not to think of how, without supervision, this comes horrifyingly close to fraternization. "Please excuse my absence. I'll be returning to the festivities soon, I only needed a moment to --"

-- 'clear my head' sounds astonishingly informal, he should say something else instead, but he's already started the sentence like that -- is that really worth breaking rank over -- for stars' sake, say something --

"-- air."

Yes. A moment to air. Brilliant as always, Nephrite. And they wonder why you're not much for parties.

But, even as he berates himself, Jupiter sweeps into an answering curtsy that has more fluid grace to it than it does strict formality.

"Please," she says as she straightens, a small and slightly lopsided smile curving her lips, "don't trouble yourself. I didn't come out here to scold you for slipping away. If anything," she adds, "I'm fairly sure you'd have more right to scold me for meandering out here unescorted."

That's...come to think of it, that is true, in a strict sense. Superior or not, benevolent or not, the Lunarians are foreign powers to the Golden Kingdom. One of their number wandering the halls of the palace without an escort is some kind of diplomatic breach, though perhaps the knowledge that their own princess is doing just that, and regularly, has inured him to the shock of it.

Absently one of Jupiter's hands smooths over the cascade of her skirt. "...If I'm intruding," she says, "I can leave you to your thoughts. I only wanted a little air, myself." Her eyes flick briefly away from him, skimming over the starlit greenery. "And perhaps to see the garden."

Nephrite straightens.

"As it happens, I have more time with my thoughts than anyone needs," he says, perhaps a bit too personally -- but they are co-conspirators, are they not? And there's no one around to hear, besides. "I can spare them a few minutes for conversation."

His mouth ticks up in a slight, wry grin. "Not that you'd know it from how I act in there. I suppose I've yet to do my dancing for tonight; pardon me for not asking you yet, you've probably guessed that parties like this aren't my strength. I trust Zoisite and Jadeite have kept you well entertained?"

It's only then that he notices her eyes have turned to the gardens. He barely holds in a sigh -- it's in bad taste to defend something so paltry to one of the most cultured people in the solar system, but he has no choice. This garden is the fruit of his homeland, its spirit. Small and fragile though it is.

"It must seem like nothing to you, compared to what there is on the moon," he says, quieter, "but I beg you to look for its beauty, if you can."

Jupiter quirks an eyebrow.

"You do your world too little credit," she answers gently. "Yes, it's true that there is great beauty on the moon, but... it's a deliberate sort of beauty. Planned and sculpted."

A soft breeze moves over the garden, rustling a bit in the leaves and ruffling Jupiter's hair around her face. The hand that was smoothing over her skirt a moment ago lifts, not quite touching the plants, just letting the breath of wind play over her fingertips. "This wild green world of yours... in a way, it's more like what I come from."

The wind whistles between them as she speaks, her fingers hovering over a delicate cluster of flowers, not touching them -- and a curious feeling comes over Nephrite. It's quiet, a whisper in his heart that might have been ignored were his attention elsewhere. But he is more in tune with himself and the world here in the peace of the garden, and he can't help but feel that time has slowed down for a moment. That his mind is taking this image before him and engraving it into memory, as small and insignificant as it seems.

He looks on for but a second before giving his head a shake and turning his eyes to the stars. What a strange man he is, to think something like that.

"Where you come from," he repeats. His eyes find the planet Jupiter instinctively, glimmering brighter than its fellows in the night sky. "It's funny. I look upon your homeworld every night, and yet I know nothing at all about it."

That's -- no, that's not true, and he shouldn't make himself look stupid in front of the princess.

Hastily, he adds, "Well, of course not nothing. I could tell you everything about what it means for your world to be trine with Venus, or what we can expect for the next year on Earth when Jupiter falls in Cancer. I know your ambassadors, your diplomats, your gross domestic product, the basics of your culture, from what they show to us on Earth."

Here, he looks back down at the flowers, the wild beauties that Princess Jupiter likens to those of her home.

"But it never occurred to me that your world would have flowers like ours. I never thought a Jovian could come to Earth and see something even remotely familiar. You know," he gives a soft chuckle, "some of the less educated of our subjects think of your race as gods."

A soft, surprised laugh bubbles up in Jupiter's throat.

"Gods?" she repeats, and shakes her head. "No. Although there are some in the Silver Millennium who would like to think themselves gods in comparison to your people." The breath goes out of her in a quiet sigh.

He shrugs, absentmindedly reaching out to one of the pink roses on the bush, running over one of its petals with his hand. Beautiful -- but they will be out of season soon. This one is already going slightly slack with age. The gardeners will no doubt prune them in the next week.

"I suppose we're all ignorant, in our way," he muses.

"Yes. I suppose we are." As Nephrite did moments before, she lifts her head to look to the night sky, strewn as it is with myriad glittering lights.

"We're so far from my planet," she muses. "From here, you can scarcely pick it out. I can feel it, wherever I am, but I'm a little ashamed to admit I couldn't point to it amidst the stars." A beat, and then the princess looks toward Nephrite again, eyes bright with self-deprecating humor. "Please don't tell anyone I said that," she says with a quiet laugh. "How shameful would it be?"

Nephrite drops his hand from the rose when the princess starts speaking of her homeworld again, stepping back from the planter and lifting his head once more -- this time to look at her, not at the sky.

"Yes," he says, a thoughtful tinge to his voice, "of all the Senshi, I suppose you're the furthest from your home. Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto...they're all so far that I don't believe we've ever seen as much as an envoy from them on Earth, yet here you are. Only a slight bit closer than the outer planets, and still made to live with us," he says. "With the Moon."

Privately, he can't help but feel it is unfair, to keep a princess away from her world so completely, but it would be the height of disrespect to say so. Not to mention hypocrisy -- is he not far from his own home, in service to a royal? Granted, 'far' by Earth standards and 'far' by Millennian standards are different by orders of magnitude, but the concept is the same. He shouldn't criticize her sacred duty, for what duty is without sacrifice?

Still, there's something he can give her.

"There," Nephrite says, lifting his hand to the familiar star of Jupiter, pointing it out to her. Princess Jupiter tips her head back to follow the gesture. The smile that curves her mouth is a wondering one, warm, perhaps with gratitude. "Your home. Don't feel ashamed for not seeing it, it's much further than the moon and Venus -- Venus is so bright here that some call it the morning star -- but if you look closely," he indicates the area around the glimmering star with a wave of his hand, "you'll see it shines brighter than all those around it. In fact, after Venus," he looks back down at her and smiles, "it's the brightest star we can see on Earth."

Of course, Jupiter is a planet , not a star. But such things are semantics to an astrologer like him; a divine object is a divine object, leave the classifications to astronomers.

"I see it." She lifts a hand herself, as though she could reach up to touch the distant planet.

He goes quiet for a second or two before he speaks again, in a bit of a whisper, almost conspiratorial.

"If it's not too much trouble, Princess," he asks, "can you tell me more of your homeworld? I don't mean to pry, and I'm sure it seems like a petty thing to ask, but you must understand that we of the Earth -- we've seen little of the Millennium beyond our borders." His blue eyes glimmer with curiosity. "I've never left this planet, myself. And I feel like I know so little."

Jupiter, too, is quiet for a little space, but soon enough she turns her eyes back earthward to the man standing next to her. "It's no trouble," she answers him, that smile still warm on her face. "Nor petty, either. You've done me a kindness; it's a small enough thing to ask in return. Where should I begin?" she wonders. "What would you like to know about?"

Nephrite's eyes widen, the spark of curiosity and excitement unconcealable.

"I confess don't know where to start," he says. "There's so much I'd like to learn about the other planets. Earth and its people are the only thing I've ever known, and I -- I can't fathom what life is like on the Moon, much less somewhere as far away as Jupiter. It seems almost beyond my understanding."

He looks away from her, gazing off into the middle distance, consumed by his thoughts so thoroughly that he may as well be airing them aloud for all to hear.

"And then how long your people live...the idea of living for hundreds of years. Thousands. It's baffling to me. I can't imagine how that changes a culture, to not be afraid of death. Do artists care about their legacy if they know they will live to see it? Do Millennians war for resources and the safety of their families? Do lovers marry for eternity, or only for a little while --"

But he's babbling now, and even he realizes it. Nephrite cuts himself off with a sigh and a shake of his head, putting on a small, apologetic smile when he turns to look at Princess Jupiter again.

"That's...probably more than you'd like to answer, though. And hardly specific to your home. I'll think of something a bit simpler." He casts about in his head, tossing away the high-minded nonsense he always busies himself with. Of course, that nonsense consumes most of his thoughts, but he can come up with something normal. Something conversational. Something like: "What's the weather like on Jupiter? Or, I guess, whichever moon it is you come from...?"

The princess's eyes, which had stayed on him all while he spoke, suddenly light up with merriment, and she laughs.

It's possible he overcompensated on the simplicity. Damn.

"Well," she says, "Jupiter is a world of constant storms, you know. You can see them churning the atmosphere." Almost automatically she looks upward again, and despite the playful note in her voice, something nostalgic creeps in as well. "If we were on one of the moons of my world, you'd see a great red spot in the southern reaches of the planet, like a knot in the grain... a storm that never ceases, larger than this entire Earth. We call it the Dragon's Eye."

When she meets his eyes again, the teasing has evaporated, though she's still smiling. "But you already knew that no one can live on Jupiter itself," she says. "I was born in Io Castle, which hangs in orbit around the planet, so the 'weather' there is much like how things are on the White Moon. The greater moons are more exciting. Callisto is very cold, covered in ice that never thaws. Europa is often stormy, although not the same as the planet - Io even more so. There's no real settlement on Io, it wouldn't be safe, but I've visited the generator stations that help channel power to Io castle. The auroras are spectacular, they light up the whole sky in green and blue.

"I think you'd find Ganymede the most welcoming," she adds, after a moment's pause. "Its climate is the mildest, and the forests there are not so very different from what I've seen here on Earth, though older."

It may have only been a question about the weather, a small and insubstantial thing that he hasn't wondered about much at all, in truth; all the same, the moment Jupiter starts to answer him, Nephrite goes still, rapt with attention.

How strange, that one planet's moons could have so much life. The different parts of Earth have their own weather quirks, it's true -- but that an ice world could exist so close to a world of forests, two worlds of storms? That these are only the major moons of Jupiter, and that so many orbit her still, unmentioned, maybe not even inhabited except for a handful of hardy settlers?

His mind is on fire. The wonders of the Millennium are too great to name. Why, oh why must they all be holed up here, on a world so very small, so simple and mundane? What he wouldn't give for a single day out there, among the stars...

But he knows his heart remain on Earth all the while. And maybe that is what keeps him bound, more surely than the statutes of the White Moon, or his duty to the prince.

"It sounds beautiful," he says, unable to keep a touch of wonder out of his voice, though he tries desperately to remain professionally detached, as befits his rank. "I imagine the peoples of your moons must be very different from each other. Stars, even between our subjects here on Earth, there can be vast divisions of culture, and we're only some thousands of miles apart from each other. Nothing like the moons of Jupiter." He smiles, matching hers. "Though I'm certain you've bested us in both technology and magic. All of this...it must seem very primitive to you. I apologize. We've petitioned the Queen before to grant us some of the Millennians' knowledge, but for reasons we can't claim to know, she has declined."

He doesn't sound unhappy, per se, though it is impossible not to pick up on a touch of frustration in those final words of his.

"So we remain as we are. We have no senshi. Our cities stay beneath the stars. Our flowers wither and die." He reaches out to the fading rose again, this time bringing its faint grey tinge to her attention, instead of hiding it. "And whenever you're forced to come here, we must subject you to it as well. Until we figure what the Queen wants from us to enter into the Millennium proper, I'm afraid this is all we have." Nephrite goes quiet, then plucks the rose from its stem.

"A little sad, isn't it?"

Slowly, Jupiter's eyebrows lift. For a little while, she has no answer, and her gaze settles on the wilting rose in his hand.

"...I meant it before when I said you do your world too little credit," she says, eyes sliding away from him to look out across the garden again. "It's true that there are those in the Silver Millennium who think of the Earth as primitive. Many of them are the same people who'd like to think of themselves as gods over you. I'd hope that you wouldn't be so quick to follow along with their way of thinking."

She falls quiet again for a space, and this time when her face turns upward, her eyes seek out the silver glow of the moon in the night sky. "You must know this, as a scholar of the sky and the stars, but... the days and the nights here on your world are so much shorter than they are on the Moon. More than anything, I think that was the strangest to me when I first visited here. It's as though time itself moves faster here, passing in the blink of eye."

Her voice has grown quieter, words hanging softly in the fragrant air. "You wondered what it's like to live as long as we do," Jupiter murmurs, "but it's not as though we live forever. We age in time, and we can die. The flowers of Io Castle and the oaks of Ganymede are no more free from withering than the roses of Earth."

At last, her eyes come back to his again, solemn now. "I can't claim to know the Queen's mind myself," she admits. "I'm sure that from the perspective of Earth, it must seem interminable waiting for anything to happen in the Moon's pace. Just as, to our eyes, your world seems like a hasty one. But," a trace of a fond smile begins to tug up the corner of her mouth, "if your prince and our princess have their way, perhaps your wait will end sooner than you think."

Nephrite doesn't know why this always happens. He sets out to have a pleasant conversation -- a normal, light conversation, the kind he's expected to have, to put guests and dignitaries at ease -- and then out come his innermost thoughts, so heavy and high-minded, betraying how absurdly ruminative he is, how boring and self-obsessed. It's no wonder he can't do a thing at parties. If he opens his mouth for longer than two minutes, he'll read a treatise to the Venusian ambassador, or go on about the profound, inescapable nature of loneliness to the queen consort, or...or…

No. He wouldn't. It might seem so from where he is now, but he knows in his heart that he can hold his tongue when he needs to. It's only around some that he can't seem to hold back. Only a certain kind of person stirs him so, only a certain kind of person whose opinion matters to him in the first place.

He's silent for several moments, the ripples of that realization settling within him. What is it about this girl, whom he barely knows, that would draw this out of him?

But at the mention of Endymion, he lets that thought fade into the dark corners of his mind, where it can no longer trouble him. And the smile that tugs at his lips afterward is his widest, most genuine of the night.

He can't help it. The prince's happiness is infectious, and if his union has the added benefit of bringing them into the galaxy proper, then so much the better.

"I really hope it will," he says, a hint of a laugh in his voice, "for my sanity, if nothing else. All this covering for him and his sneaking about...I'm sure it's knocked years off my life already." She must be able to relate to that, at least; it's difficult enough hiding Endymion's indiscretions from the king, imagine how much harder it would be to hide from an all-knowing queen. That almost mischievous hint to his smile turns more wistful a second later, though, as his thoughts turn back to his prince.

"Still...as long as he's happy," he says. "I think you're right, Princess. Better days are coming for everyone in our kingdoms." Nephrite glances down to the flower in his hand, whose life he ended quite on a whim; the least he can do is make some good of it. Closing the distance between them with a step or two, he presents the rose to Princess Jupiter, along with the smile her words helped create.

"Here. A small piece of our garden to take back to the Moon. It may be wilting now, but I'm sure a bit of magic could keep it beautiful a while longer. We Shitennou owe you a debt of gratitude for protecting the source of our prince's happiness," he says. "And I owe you one, myself. For dealing with my gloomy musings this beautiful night."

The gift of the rose causes her brows to lift in surprise, and then those green eyes light up with delighted pleasure.

"Not so very gloomy," she replies lightly as she reaches to accept and cradle the rose carefully between her hands, like a valuable and delicate treasure. "Thank you. For protecting the source of my princess's happiness, and for your generous gift as well."

When she lifts the flower to breathe in its perfume, she lets a little of her own power seep in to strengthen it, a glimmer of green light moving from her fingertips to the rose. "Perhaps I can persuade this flower to strike root, if it does not find the soil in my garden too objectionable."

As peculiar as it is, and as much as he knows that it isn't true, Nephrite can't blame his people for believing the Millennians to be gods. What is it that makes a god: limitless power, immortality, a home on high from which to judge those below? All the Lunarians and greater Millennians he's ever met fit that description more or less exactly. For a time, he may have held a similar belief himself; not that the Millennium was divine, of course, but that they were beings so far removed from the Earth's form of humanity that they could never exist side by side.

Then Endymion met Serenity -- and by association, he is standing here with Jupiter in the palace gardens, smiling and laughing, airing his thoughts as easily as he would to one of his brothers. And that image that he had in his head of the cold, unfeeling woman, so very unknowable and distant, starts to crumble piece by piece.

Jupiter has such a beautiful smile. So beautiful his eyes linger on it a moment to long, and only after a moment or two does he realize she's been speaking.

He blinks. Stars, how embarrassing. He must have misheard what she said just then...something about planting the rose he just picked? Impossible. The flower died as soon as he pulled it from its bush. There's no replanting a dead rose, the best she can hope for is to preserve it in a vase and hope it holds its color for as long as it can.

...at least, that is how it works on Earth.

"Forgive me, Princess," he says, a trace of hesitation in his voice. What if he had misheard her, and this entire question is a misunderstanding? "I...do not know how plants on other planets work, but I'm afraid that rose is dead. It was rather thoughtless of me, I should have arranged to get you a potted flower for you to take back. I still can, if you prefer." He falls silent for a moment, his face growing far more thoughtful, as though something's occurred to him and he's retreating back into his mind to sort it all out.

"...unless," he says, half to himself, "the Millennians have magic to bring the dead back to life?"

"Ah?" Again Jupiter's brows lift, as she looks up from the rose in genuine puzzlement. "It's nothing like that. This flower isn't dead yet." Glancing down at the rose, she smiles the affectionate smile one might give an adorable puppy or a kitten. "It will die soon, if it's not cared for properly, but... didn't you know? Some plants can grow roots from cuttings with the proper handling. It has that kind of energy, so I thought I could try and see."

Still cradling the rose in both hands, she looks up to meet Nephrite's eyes again. "The power of Jupiter isn't only storms," she says. "I have a bit of a sense, I suppose you'd say. A small pot with some moist soil from your garden would certainly help, if it wouldn't be too much trouble - I'll need to keep the stem from drying out, and I'm sure it would find it easier to root in familiar ground."

Ah. That vague redness of a blush? Those blue eyes flitting from the rose to the ground? The tension in the muscles of his jaw? Congratulations, Princess Jupiter, you have seen a sight that few ever have.

Nephrite is embarrassed. Desperately so.

Imagine. A Jovian knowing more than he does about Earth flowers . Stars, he's supposed to be educated .

"O-Of course," he replies, still not meeting her eyes. "I'd heard that rose clippings could grow, but I didn't know -- what part, exactly. I thought it had to be from the base or the root, somehow. Not a flower on a stem." That much is true, at least. "Here I am, lecturing you about how things are on Earth, when you know more about this than I do." He smiles up at her. "Anyone here could tell you how arrogant I can be, at times. Forgive me. I do not mean to be so."

If she brings that rose to her nose again to hide an amused smile, she's kind enough not to make it obvious.

"I can have a gardener bring fresh soil to your room," Nephrite continues, maybe a little too quickly. "I can't promise how it might react when it leaves our atmosphere, but if the moon's climate is as controlled as they say, it might not be an issue. Besides, if you have power over plants, I trust you could make anything grow." His smile takes on a rueful tinge. "Would that my people had such a power."

No one is starving, here on Earth; the king and his prince make sure of it. To call their lot bountiful, however...

He clears his throat, steering his thoughts from their once again gloomy destination. There are other things he needs to know, and he wouldn't subject Jupiter to this nonsense again.

"It's not quite so easy as that," she admits after a moment, surprising him. "I can't truly make things grow. I can only ask, and I do not know if a flower grown from your world will answer. Still, your trees and your gardens have felt like friends to me since I first arrived here. I think perhaps this rose can be persuaded."

Interesting. Very interesting.

"I believe our gardeners here occasionally talk to the plants, actually," he muses. "I doubt the flowers here are conscious to hear it, but they swear by it all the same. Apparently it helps them grow stronger and more beautiful." He shrugs. He'd always dismissed the idea of it as placebo, but if a senshi is here expressing similar sentiments, there may be more merit in it than he thought.

"I suppose there are stranger things in this world. The gardeners talk to plants. I read the stars. The princess of the Moon and the prince of the Earth fall in love, and it's our job to hide their happiness from both our kingdoms' prying eyes," Nephrite says. "Speaking of, when does your coalition plan to leave? We're prepared to host you for as long as you please, but I'd like to deliver the soil to you fresh, so the chances of your rose growing are as high as they can be."

With a quick flash of a wry smile, Jupiter answers, "I believe our 'plan' is to depart at moonrise tomorrow night. But you know how plans sometimes go. I have a feeling the Princess will beg to stay longer, if she can."

Of course she will.

Nephrite smiles at Jupiter, at the absurdity of their lives, the idea that the joy of love can be dangerous -- but that that same hidden love could change the world.

"You're right. I suspect your princess has her own plan about when you're leaving," he says. "Hopefully the king won't make us throw another blasted ball." After a moment's hesitation -- should he say this, it feels a trifle too familiar, but it is the truth and he'd like her to know -- he continues, "Though I suppose it is this very ball that allowed me to talk more with you. I doubt my night would have been nearly as stimulating without it."

Nephrite regrets being so forward even as the words leave his mouth, but then Jupiter laughs, and his heart stutters half a beat inside him.

"There, you see?" she says merrily. "These balls do have their uses, after all. Although I grant you it must be very tiresome to have to host them. Especially if you're not one who's very much for dancing?"

Nephrite would do well to steal a little of the princess's charm. So quick to smile, to laugh -- to see the bright side of even misfortune and confusion. Where does such inner strength come from? Have the Millennians discovered some secret to happiness that they on Earth have not?

Or does this all just come naturally to her?

Nephrite shifts from foot to foot, debating how best to answer.

"...if my friends are to be believed," he begins, "I am actually not hopeless with dance. There are much less enjoyable duties I have as a Shitennou of the Golden Kingdom." But he sighs, thinking of how much the vision of dancing in his head conflicts with the annoyingly imperfect reality. "If only there weren't so many people in the hall. And if only the dance was for dancing's sake, not for politicking or appearances. I think that is what most exhausts me, out of all of it."

"Yes." Jupiter nods, sympathy softening her expression. "Yes, I see. It's certainly unfortunate that those things are so hard to escape. I don't dislike balls, myself, but it's true that they'd be much more enjoyable if we didn't have to be forever conscious of the eyes of the court upon us."

Quieting for a moment, she looks around the quiet garden, washed in starlight and the faint strains of the music drifting out of the ballroom.

There are no eyes on them here, no one to keep up appearances for. She must realize it. Nephrite certainly does.

With the utmost care, she tucks the rose he gave her in amongst the silk rosettes at the waist of her gown -- and then, as she looks up to meet his eyes again, she holds out her hand in invitation.

"In that case," she says with a smile, "I'm sure you'll think me very bold, but... would you do me the honor?"

Well...this is new.

There are certain expectations placed on him, growing up as a noble and Shitennou of Earth. It is not as though women are treated as lesser in the Golden Kingdom. Far from it: Endymion's mother rules jointly with his father, there are many royal advisors and governors of both sexes throughout their lands. Nephrite would certainly not have it otherwise; but, to him, it is still a strange thing to be asked for a dance by a lady, instead of doing the asking himself.

His eyes flit from the offered hand to Jupiter's face, as if there's some cue he's missing, or a way he's supposed to react to this invitation that he can't immediately see. Perhaps she has wanted him to ask her all along, and she is only bringing the matter to his attention now because he couldn't catch on? Perhaps there is a joke here at his expense?

-- why would she joke or obfuscate, after she just spoke to him of honesty and the tiring charade of court?

Doesn't he want to dance with her, even more now that the chance has been offered?

Stop thinking, Nephrite, he says to himself, and dance.

"Of course, your highness. The honor is all mine," he says, bringing her hand to his lips for a courtly kiss. Then, with eyes trained for any sign of displeasure or objection, he places his hand at her waist and pulls himself a bare inch or so closer. This is the way of the Earth, when it comes to dancing; intimate, graceful, face to face. Who can say how it is on the Moon, or on her homeworld, or anywhere else in the wide Millennium, but this is what he knows.

The expectant smile on Jupiter's face warms into pleasure at his acceptance, and her hand settles lightly into place on his shoulder.

"I've learned your waltz," she answers him, her face tipped upward toward his. "I'm still somewhat new at it, I confess, but I trust that I'll be able to follow your lead."

"I will do my best."

And so they dance, and dance, and dance. Under the silver light of the Moon, wreathed in the aroma of roses, far from the cares of the morning. It is lovely. Peaceful. Very nearly bliss, to be so contented and alone.

Nephrite prays, perhaps foolishly, that such a dance might never end.

[annes-andromeda]

GOT Virtues AU: The Eyes of Youth

N/: Finally, a new chapter! School just started for me like two weeks ago, so I’m pretty occupied. But I’ll try to post as frequently as possible. But for now, have some more Robbaery fluff.

Golden rays fell upon Margaery’s skin, her cheeks pink with the humid air throughout the windowless halls. Her dress bore a black skirt that swayed when she strutted, and golden fabric upon her chest. Around her shoulders she wore a shawl of midnight, and in her hands was a silver tray of the freshest fruits she could pick. Red apple slices, purple and green grapes, blueberries, and a loaf of bread to add to the meal.

I would’ve gotten some wine had my hands not been so full, Margaery thought

Beneath the tray was some clothes for Robb to fit in. To have him wear those rags that stunk of mud and shit would be enough of a punishment. And Margaery wished to see her friend heal. To see the stars return to his oceanic eyes.

She knocked on the door to his chambers, and heard a faint “Come in” to allow her entry. Once opening the door and closing it, she didn’t expect to see Robb out of bed, and he seemed better than when he arrived. Granted his clothes were still filthy and his skin still bruised, but at least he was out of the covers.

It’s what he was doing that seemed to intrigue Margaery. It was difficult to see due to the light of the sun hitting the windows, but she could she it faint as a song. His fingers danced through the air, as if he was playing the strings of a harp or conducting an orchestra.

Robb has heard her come in, but did nothing to acknowledge her. He looked almost mesmerized by what he was creating. Margaery didn’t doubt him. Who wouldn’t stop to stare at the man who was creating pure snowflakes from his hands? It was a pretty sight, Margaery deemed. She remembered when he’d visit Highgarden with his father, and how he’d form balls of snow from his palms to simply throw them at the nearest servant.

“I don’t suppose you could lend some of that cold air?” Margaery remarked jokingly. Robb turned to her, and the flakes disappeared as his hand lowered. “It’s quite warm in here. The sun has not been kind” She continues, as she walks to place the tray on the table next to his bed.

“Thank you” Robb said. His voice was much louder now, instead of being a small whisper. And he was definitely starving, for he nearly pounced on the fruits, munching at the apples and taking big bites from the bread.

Margaery tries not to chuckle, as she knows the man has been practically starved of food. But she just couldn’t help herself: the way his rosy cheeks puffed up made him look like a rabbit munching on a carrot. It was almost adorable. “Don’t eat so quickly, now” Margaery said “Your stomach will ache and then you’ll complain”

“I’ll take my chances” Robb mumbled, his mouth half stuffed with food. Margaery simply rolled her eyes and smirked at her friend, all while placing her hand on his shoulder “Make sure you eat all of it. I don’t want you starving anymore than you already have” She unfolded the clothes that sat on her lap, and presented them to Robb “These are for you. They belong to Loras, so I’m not quite sure if they’ll fit. But you’re welcome to try”

Robb took hold of the clothes and ran his finger through the fabric. The tunic was black embroidered with roses, like that of the Tyrell sigil, and a pale shirt came with it to put under. Grey pants sat at the bottom, simple and plain.

“If you’d like...” Margaery began “...I could arrange for one of the servants to prepare a bath for you. Would you like that?”

Robb looked at her, a warm smile forming on his face as he nodded “Yes” he said

Margaery got up from her seat “That’s very good to hear. Once you’re finished, please meet with me in the gardens. I wish to speak with you” She said, and she exited out of Robb’s chambers. As Robb finished his food, he began to strip off his filthy clothes and then found a robe to cover himself with whilst he waited for his bath to arrive.

Once the servants did arrive, Robb immediately sent them away, as he wished to bathe in peace. He placed himself in the warm water, and sighed. Gods, did it feel amazing not to smell like shit anymore. He grabbed one of the oils and placed over his chest. As he did so, he wondered what sort of tricks Margaery was up to.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Margaery sat in the gardens of Highgarden, waiting for Robb’s presence. The shade of the arbor structure kept the sun from hitting her face, and she sipped the wine from her glass. The flowers were in perfect bloom, it seemed. She could smell the golden Evening Stars, the creamy Nightshades, and the pearlescent Lady’s Lace. And she could’ve sworn the air smelled also like that of perfume. The day was almost too perfect.

And then Margery stopped. Right, she thought, I must be in mourning. My king is dead, so therefore, I mustn’t be happy.

How she wished she could tear away this facade. Margaery has grown tired of it, telling her husbands that they are kings who could do as they pleased. If it was so, then she was a queen who could as she pleased as well. But no, that wasn’t the case. Tommen seemed like a good boy, one capable of being a great king. He could be far easier to obtain than Joffrey, that was sure.

But Margaery’s mind seemed to wander somewhere else. Not of Joffrey, or Tommen... but of Robb. She hadn’t seen him in so long, she had forgotten her faint affection for him. And she had finally seen his eyes... oh Gods, what beautiful eyes.

No, Margaery stopped guiltily. I am to wed the King, not a traitor. I will be the Queen, not a lady. But Robb is a king... and I... No! I mustn’t think that way! I will marry Tommen Baratheon. I will be his bride and that’s final.

As she composed herself, Margaery heard faint footsteps. She looked up, and her breath hitched. Robb was now fully clothed, his skin no longer dirty, and Margaery could smell the oil he had put on himself. His hair was nicely brushed, but still held it’s delicate curls, and he was now smiling brightly. Not a grin, but a smile nonetheless.

Margaery looked up at the man as he towered over her, and she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander. His eyes stared down at her, as her breath grew warm and her insides moved all fuzzy. She wondered what it would be like for his fingers to graze her cheek, or to feel his lips kiss her hand.

“You look very beautiful” she said, and Robb simply chuckled “A bit much, don’t you think?” But Margaery shook her head in disagreement. He did look truly divine. He sat down next to her and poured himself some wine “Well, then you look heavenly” Robb asserted

Margaery blushed sweetly, and smirked at her friend’s kind remark. She placed her hand atop his, and he turned his head to meet her gaze “It gives me great pleasure to see you back at your feet” Margaery said “However, I’m afraid you can’t stay for long. The Lannisters will want your head”

“The Lannisters seem to be more preoccupied on other matters” Robb stated “That cunt Joffrey has just been poisoned at his own wedding, and it seems that the Queen Regent is blaming the Imp for it”

Margaery retaliated “Perhaps. But Tywin Lannister still has not forgotten about you. He’ll hunt you down until your head is on a spike, just like your father”

That earned a dark look from Robb. His eyes narrowed and his lips puckered. She didn’t mean for the statement to sound so cruel, but it was the truth. Any means Robb took to try and fight the Lannisters, he’d be killed for it. Maybe the Frost could help him, but he was too weak even now.

“If he tries to take me,” Robb started “,I’ll make sure he pays for what he did to my family. I will see him bleed” That last sentence came out in an almost snarl, and it frightened Margaery.

“No” she snapped “As much as you want revenge, it won’t bring back your wife or your mother. You must return to the North”

“How?” Robb asked “Roose Bolton has taken over Winterfell. The man who stabbed me in the back and conspired against me. Even if I have supporters, the Boltons have a fresh army ready for combat”

Margery thought for a moment. She was stuck. She could try to smuggle Robb into the North by a false name, but she was certain everyone knew his face by then. He would have to be moved to a barren location, somewhere no one would even think of looking.

And then, it clicked.

“Remember when you and your father once came to Highgarden because you needed rations for Winterfell?” Margaery asked. Robb furrowed his eyebrows “I believe so. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I recall your father speaking of an ancient fortress in the Wolf Woods, younger than Winterfell. That Torrhen Stark built it as a means for his most precious treasures to be kept secret”

“That’s just an old wives tale” Robb corrected “No one has been able to find it for thousands of years”

“Maybe so” Margaery started, and then raised her eyebrow insistently “But perhaps those people weren’t meant to find it”

“What are you saying?” Robb asked, clearly confused

“Your father said that only Torrhen himself was allowed entry, along with his treasures. And Torrhen Stark was the last King in the North. Until you, that is”

Robb now understood where she was coming from “Maybe you’re right. If I find refuge there, no one will be able to seek me out. Neither Tywin nor Roose will get their hands on me. I’ll be safe”

Margaery nodded pridefully “I do enjoy your company here, even if it has only been a day. But you really will be safer in the North. It’s your home. It’s where you belong”

Robb could feel himself grinning from ear to ear. His feet gave off a slight bounce and before he could even speak, he grabbed Margaery by the arm and spun her around. The woman could only laugh as her friend lifted her off her feet and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Margaery could feel herself flush and how Robb sniffled into her hair.

“Thank you...” he whispered

Margaery smiled. He’s coming around, she thought. She pulled away from the embrace, and her hands were on Robb’s shoulders, rubbing them tenderly “You know,” she began “,this reminds me of a time we played in this very garden”

“Is that so?” Robb remarked

“Yes” she answered “I remember we were right here, alongside Loras: sitting beneath the arbor and eating berries we had just picked from the bushes. The servants had poured us some milk and left honey if we wished to sweeten the fruits” Her hand moved from Robb’s shoulder to his cheek, and her fingers grazed the stubble there “Loras had picked some roses, golden as the sun, and a peculiar idea came into your little head”

“And what was this peculiar idea you speak of?” Robb asked playfully. His voice sounded like that of a fishwife gossiping.

Margaery proceeded “You decided to mix the milk and honey together. You then crumbled up the roses, placed them in the mixture, and told me to drink it. It was the sweetest thing to every touch my tongue. You know why I think of that now?”

“Why?” Robb asked once more

“It was the last time I ever saw you. Since that day, I always drank milk with honey, along with crumbled roses. It reminded me of you, sweet wolf” Margery paused her fingers and placed her palm on Robb’s cheek. She could see his moonglow eyes much clearer, as they stared into her rooted ones. It felt as if she was staring at the heavens and oceans all at once.

Before she could anything else, Robb cleared his throat and pulled away “I... I suppose I should begin trying to find more information of the fortress, yes?”

Margaery composed herself, straightening her skirt and posture “Yes, of course. You could try the library. I’ll show you, if you’d like”

“That would be nice” Robb said nervously. They walked together to the library, arm in arm. Neither said a word to each other, but their smiles could not hide what they thought. Margaery had never felt this giddy before. Just being with Robb felt right, his form squeezed next to her and their movements in perfect harmony. How she wished she could have this, for all of her days.

But she could not.

I am to be the Queen. Not a Queen. The Queen. I shall marry a stag, not a wolf. It is what I desire. It is what I need.

I long for it... Yearn for it... Crave it.. I wish... I wish... Oh how I wish...

To be his Queen

[bigyack-com]

Check out breathtaking examples of adaptive reuse in five Indian cities - art and culture

When a structure is saved, it can transform a neighbourhood. That’s the principle of adaptive reuse — that when you restore a crumbling building, turn the insides into something completely different and make it relevant again, you shine a light on the space, the area, and its history.We haven’t got that far yet. In Kolkata, a 93-year-old residence is now a boutique bed-and-breakfast, but all around it are crumbling historic homes.In Delhi, the rooftop Walled City Café overlooks a crumbling and neglected Shahjahanabad. In Mumbai, a once-iconic mill now hosts yuppie beer-guzzlers and theatre lovers, but most of the mills in the city stand forlorn.Still, it’s a start. “Adaptive reuse projects become an example for others to emulate,” says conservation architect Kirtida Unwalla. In south Mumbai’s Kala Ghoda art district, she points out, what started as isolated incidences of heritage reuse have turned into a flood of cafés, restaurants, retail stores and art spaces housed in bits of history.Unwalla helmed one such transformation — when the high-street brand Zara moved into the five-storey, 110-year old Ismail Building that now lights up the street it’s on.

The entrance to The Walled City Cafe, situated in a 200-year-old haveli in Old Delhi. The principle of adaptive reuse is that when you restore a crumbling building, turn the insides into something completely different and make it relevant again, you shine a light on the space, the area, and its history. ( Sanchit Khanna / HT Photo ) “The new spaces coming up in heritage structures has really changed the area, making it livelier and more visited,” she says.Some of the earliest examples of adaptive reuse in India involved the palaces of Rajasthan. The 15th-century Neemrana Fort was once of the first; it was converted into a luxury hotel in 1991. Other examples include the 18th-century Lake Palace in Udaipur and the 19th-century Falaknuma palace in Hyderabad, both now ultra-high-end hotels.In the cities, the practice is still fairly new. But it’s happening.A decrepit 90-year-old four-storey house in Kolkata was recently in the spotlight after its owner put it up for sale, but only to buyers who committed to not tearing it down.“The enhanced value of a restored and adapted structure is yet to be fully appreciated in India, as it is in the UK, Europe and even the US,” Unwalla says.

Built as an orphanage in 1876, this Bengaluru building now houses the boutique store Cinnamon. ‘We picked the space because restoring it would be a way to remember Bangalore as it was,’ says owner of the brand Radhika Poddar.Money is a key factor, of course. Restoration, renovation and maintenance are significantly more expensive for old structures that typically need specific types of wood, roofing and tile, and need near-constant attention. The new tenants then take longer to turn profitable or make back their investment.“Big investments in restoration also often mean that the demography of a place changes,” says conservation architect Aishwarya Tipnis. “To make up for the money put in, if one runs a café, it has be a high-end one. This leads to more such places in the area, often changing a middle-class neighbourhood into a gentrified one. So one needs to ask what we are preserving,” she says.It doesn’t help that the government offers virtually no incentives, instead turning red tape into another deterrent.As Tipnis puts it: “We could’t really have a gallery like London’s Tate Modern or Paris’s Musee d’Orsay because the flexibility of using an abandoned power station or railway station for something so different simply does not exist here.”Delhi: Coffee, literature, history...On the first floor of a 200-year-old old haveli in Old Delhi, is a café that looks out over the Jama Masjid and the sprawl of Shahjahanabad.

Chandni Chowk’s Haveli Dharampura was restored by BJP MP Vijay Goel, a heritage enthusiast and activist. It is now a luxury heritage hotel and offers kathak and classical music performances. ( Sanchit Khanna / HT Photo ) “The house belongs to my sister-in-law, Zeenat Shafi, and was practically abandoned for over 12 years, after she moved to Canada,” says Sheeba Aslam Fehmi, who lives next door and is food curator for the Walled City Café. “By 2016, it was in such bad shape, it needed urgent repairs. When we were halfway through we realised that this nice open space on the first level would be a good place for people to meet, hangout and eat. It reminded us of the beautiful cafés of Istanbul.”The building had what she calls an ‘Anglo-Muslim’ ambience, with fireplaces, chimneys and a courtyard. It is now a popular venue, especially for literary and cultural events.Not far from WCC, is the splendid Haveli Dharampura — a grand home from 1887, with intact marble jaalis and wide courtyard, now a luxury hotel. It’s owned by the BJP MP Vijay Goel, a heritage enthusiast and activist. “The idea was to restore a part of it as a museum to set an example for others to emulate,” says his daughter, Vidyun, who handles marketing for the space.Once restoration began, the spacious rooms and corridors seemed perfect for a hotel. Work that was planned for six months went on for over six years; the hotel opened its doors in 2016. In addition to rooms and dining, it offers Kathak and classical music performances. “Turning it into a hotel has really helped with funding of the upkeep of a structure like this,” says Vidyun.Kolkata: Check in, check it outThis building was saved as a result of another interesting urban heritage phenomenon — the heritage walk.

The Calcutta Bungalow is a heritage bed-and-breakfast in a restored 1920s residence. This part of the city has several such once-splendid, crumbling structures. ( Samir Jana / HT Photo ) The founders of Calcutta Walks came upon it while researching a new walk around Radha Kanta Jew Street. “There it stood, with its green lattice shutters, arched windows and generous wide balconies,” says Anirban Dutta. “We keep coming across such buildings on our walks around the city, and most of them are in a shambles. We decided to do something about this one because it had so much potential — the ornate facade, wide road in front, relaxed and friendly neighbourhood.” The plan was to turn it into a bed-and-breakfast, “because, you know, we’re already in touch with tourists all the time”.The 90-year-old structure needed much more work than they anticipated. “It was hard to raise the funds,” he says. The restoration took two years, with artisans coming in from Murshidabad to work with chuna-surkhi or lime concrete. The place opened to guests in May 2018. It will take at least until 2023 to break even, Dutta estimates. “But we hope more people will see that it is possible to work on these beautiful buildings and not tear them down.”Goa: Beer at a millThis was a project that began with architect and heritage conservationist Raya Shankwalker deciding he wanted to find an old structure and make it an example of adaptive reuse.

The Rice Mill Cafe, in an adapted rice mill in Morjim, Goa, wears a distressed look to retain a sense of what it was — as well as keep costs down. ‘In a lot of such projects, people go overboard with the spending, and then it becomes very difficult to make the venture profitable,’ says owner, architect and heritage conservationist Raya Shankwalker. ( Harshan Thomson ) His friend said he had just the think — an abandoned rice mill his family owned in Morjim, a coastal town in north Goa. “Travelling in Europe over the years, I’ve spent so many wonderful hours in quaint cafés and bars, housed in some beautiful old structure with an interesting story,” Shankwalker says. “I wanted to do a similar thing here.” So he and a relative invested in the mill.The exterior was intact, and the idea was to give the interiors a distressed look so it would feel like a mill. This helped keep budgets down. Shankhwalker says that kept the whole operation frugal too. “Our design is largely achieved by minimalism. Almost nothing expensive. Just surface treatments and simple elements of décor.” He adds that in a lot of such projects, people go overboard with the spending. “And then it becomes very difficult to make the venture profitable.”Adaptive reuse really works for commercial spaces because people like to be in a space with a story, he adds. Shankhwalker says the bar is now doing well and is well-entrenched in the area.Mumbai: Factory floor to office In Mumbai, an old soap factory is now a posh office and a buzzing café, with silos and chimneys still in place to hint at their history.

What used be the boiler space of the Godrej soap factory is now the Vikhroli Social. ( Edmund Sumner ) “When I first visited this Godrej property, which was to be redeveloped, we decided that the structure of the factory, which spoke to the group’s legacy, must be retained — but not as a museum,” says Anubhav Gupta, business head at Vikhroli and head of corporate social responsibility and sustainability at Godrej Properties. “We wanted it to be a functional space that spoke of the past but looked to the future.”So two of the structures on the plot are now the Imagine Studio, a marketing office for Godrej properties; what used to be the boiler space is the Vikhroli Social. While the structures are open-plan, with smart glass façades, the cast-iron factory equipment works as a reminder of the past.“We are going for a mixed use development approach that will have residences, offices and a five-star hotel too,” Gupta says.Bengaluru: browse with history Cinnamon, a clothing and home décor brand, specialises in products with an Indian aesthetic but contemporary design. When it came time to move from their leased store in Bengaluru, they decided to try and find a space that reflected their identity.“We came across this dilapidated bungalow at Ulsoor, in 2013. Restoration took about 10 months,” says Radhika Poddar, founder and owner of Cinnamon.Originally built as an orphanage in 1876, Poddar says she picked the space because restoring it would be a way to remember Bangalore as it was and maintain a piece of its heritage.The design suited her too — a courtyard perfect for a café; the rooms arranged around it ideal to showcase product lines. The challenge of maintenance remains. “I will say that one must be prepared to take on constant upkeep when one moves into a heritage structure,” Poddar says. “Still, it is a unique space, a piece of social history, and exactly what we were looking for. Read the full article

[blueandgoldoffice]

Hi! Can you recommend some long and completed hot/serpent/bad boy jughead and innocent!betty fics? Thanks❤️

Looks like we have quite a few of you asking for around the same type of fic! 

@dundelions - @daisy-in-danger - @elizabethcooperjonez

I know each of your asks are a little bit varied, but I’m just lumping them into one massive list! I’ll add some quite a few of my favorites below as well as some relevant tags. Happy reading & please review!

// jughead: serpent // jughead: southside //betty: girl next door //

Because quite a few of these fics are explicit and contain mature content, PLEASE be aware of the tags listed on the archive!

Also, this got a bit out of hand oops? (sorry, not sorry) please read under the cut!

Dandelion Clocks by @itsindiansummer13 (5/9)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: “Any girl?” Sweet Pea scoffs. “The last one you slept with now prefers the fairer sex too.”

Laughter rises from the group and Jughead shakes his head. “Not counting Toni, the Serpent Prince thing works with any girl - believe me.”

His best friend’s lips curl into a smirk. “Prove it: fuck the North Side princess.”

.

Or, new-to-town Betty Cooper accompanies her sister to Riverdale’s only tattoo parlour - located on the South Side - in an act of rebellion against their parents. There, she meets the brooding, dangerously attractive Jughead Jones, and unbeknownst to her, becomes embroiled in a bet that results in unexpected consequences.

The Art of Redmancy by @xxbettysgirlxx (6/?)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: E

Summary: Redamancy –noun: The act of loving in return.Two strangers find themselves helping each other in more way than one.

Simmer by @lazydaizies (12/12)

Word Count: 84,643 / Rating: M

Summary:  They say it was fate that crossed the paths of the brooding biker gang banger and the naïve sassy ray of sunshine, but whatever the force was that brought them together, everyone said Riverdale changed the day that Jughead Jones met Betty Cooper. Some say she turned the bad boy into a puddle of kittens and others say he turned the sweet good girl into a fierce sexy tigress, while each of them would argue that the other was already those things. Whatever the case may be, those that were able to observe it all go down said it was an amusing tale to watch unfold. Because from day one, it was a tale of lust, loyalty, confusion and hilarity, with love just beneath the surface waiting on a slow simmer… 

10 Things I Hate About You by @letstakeawalkonthemildside (11/11)

Word Count: 51,763 / Rating: M

Summary: Reggie’s mouth twisted into triumphant smile “You will be compensated monetarily 100$ a day plus whatever gas and dates costs, and if you keep it up till Prom you’ll find yourself with a brand new motorcycle.”

Three and a half months. Winter Formal was the last week of January and Prom was the second week of May. He turned doubtful, “It won’t be easy, and we have a lot of history, bad history.”

Reggie nodded but spoke with complete confidence “Yes, but you’re a Serpent, and as a snake deception and lies are your specialty. You’re the only one that can do this convincingly and bad history is better than no history at all.”

Strong by @allskynostars (10/13)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: Betty Cooper swore she only signed up to tutor a young girl from South Side High, and definitely not for what followed.

And Jughead Jones didn’t sign up for anything.

Fruit Punch Lips & Leather Jacket Dreams by @believe-that-you-can-my-friend (2/3)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: There’s something about the bad boys that makes the good girls fall in love. Betty Cooper, Riverdale’s ultimate sweetheart, couldn’t be the exception to the rule, especially when Jughead Jones, leader of the young generation of Serpents and bad boy in the making, came into her life like a rider amongst pedal smoke. When Serpents are forced to attend Riverdale High, will her infatuation be reciprocated or will the nemesis between the North and the South create a war zone between them? (Slightly AU)

The Baddest Thing by @noorakardemmomesaetre (5/5)

Word Count: 14,502 / Rating: M

Summary: The perfect girl-next-door reputation has preceded Betty Cooper all her life, just as the rough and angry Southside Serpent reputation has preceded Jughead Jones. Could a simple dare in a small town diner challenge everything?

A/U: Jughead Jones has been an established Southside Serpent since his sophomore year of high school. He was never friends with Archie, Betty, Kevin, Veronica or Cheryl. Betty has been an established cheerleader since their sophomore year and her best friend Veronica has been dating Cheryl since then. They are now seniors.

Serpent Kiss by @crashhale (10/10)

Word Count: 58,215 / Rating: E

Summary: Betty Cooper is a college student, sheltered her whole life and craving to be something more than just the average girl next door. Jughead Jones is the leader of the Southside Serpents, closed off with wounds he doesn’t let anyone see. After a one-night stand, by circumstance they meet again, forever changed as they embark on a relationship. Can this pairing ever work?

The Ring Leaders by Marigold77  (4/6)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary: Betty Cooper’s life has been a series of suburban events. She crushed on her neighbor. She learned to swim. She got along with her older sister. She wore pink shirts and nice skirts. She’s done all that has been expected of her, but times have changed. Secrets are threatening to break through, some of which Betty would like to personally expose for everyone to see; others she would like to keep locked up tight and throw away the key.

Upon a tragic and chance encounter, Betty meets Jughead Jones, a Southside Serpent who has taken a keen interest in her and her mission. Together they just might be able to straighten up the town, but first they must shred away the layers of themselves that they would rather keep away from everyone, but slowly they realize that it might be the only way for them to not only co-exist, but to be together.

or

Betty is an intense swimmer (even though I know little about actual swimming) and she has multiple secrets from nearly everyone. Jughead is the son of a serpent leader and slowly falls for the pretty girl who dares to swim across Sweetwater River.*Written pre-season 2*

Fool For You by @bug-headx (12/12)

Word Count: 33,833 / Rating: NR

Summary:  Betty Cooper, the A+ student and perfect girl next door, who had been dating the school’s hottest jock since middle school, winds up with the notorious bad boy, Jughead Jones, the youngest leader of the Southside Serpents. Somehow, stars align for them, making them fall so deep in love, but are they able to maintain a relationship through their differences? How strong are they?

Tempting Fate by @kaylaarann (48/50)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: M

Summary:  Betty is being held captive by the Ghoulies, only to have an unconscious man she’s never met thrown in with her, Jughead. After helping each other escape, things will only get more interesting as the Southside Serpent and High school cheerleading journalist get to know each other better, much better. Bughead, Humor/Romance/Thriller, Smut, Little OOC… Give it a go, you wont regret it!

Pay the Piper by lilylemoncakes (¾)

Word Count: WIP / Rated: E

Summary:  “A Serpent’s help comes with a price. And my price is you. In my bed and at my mercy. For one night.”

Betty goes to the Whyte Wyrm to ask the Serpent Prince for a favor.

The Sacred and the Profane by BubblegumSuburbia (7/?)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: E

Summary: Seeing the twist of emotions and confusion flitting across her face, he leaned in closer to her, so his nose rested on her temple. Eyes dark and sure, he placed his hand on her bare thigh.

“The problem is, Betty…” He breathed softly into her ear, “I would fucking destroy you.”

-

Riverdale is a quiet town during the Summer. Betty and Jughead, having long lost touch since their days of childhood friendship, are drawn to each other over the months after senior year.

The woe of Juliet and her beloved Romeo by @butwelivehappilyeverafter (9/?)

Word Count: 34,865 /  Rating: G

Summary: Before him Betty’s life had been a combination of perfect and completely toxic. She’s forbidden to cross the border to the Southside of town, unable to associate with the ‘delinquents’ that live there to keep up her mothers appearance of a happy Northside family. But all facades fade, and when Betty’s life begins to crumble, she goes to the only person she feels she can trust.

It’s almost a year later, and the Southside is coming to Riverdale High, and so is Betty’s biggest secret.

say my name by endlessdaydreaming (2/?)

Word Count: WIP / Rating: E

Summary: Everything in Betty Cooper’s life was unremarkably constant: Please her mother, envy her sister, pine over Archie, cheerleading with Veronica, write for the Blue and Gold with Kevin, and repeat — until Jughead Jones comes crashing back into her life, with leather jacket, crown beanie, dangerous smile and all.

[Aka that Bughead secret enemies-with-benefits-turned-lovers that I have been dying to read but no one has written yet, where Jughead is a Southside Serpent and Betty had always wanted to be corrupted; featuring sexy af Jughead, slowly corrupted Betty, protective Veronica, and jealous Archie; also angst, issues, pretentious writing, smut, and slow updates.]

[parkgrand]

Instagrammable Places in London for Travellers

London is blessed with incredible photo opportunities that include historic landmarks, quirky neighbourhoods, and lush green spaces. A camera or smartphone is an essential packing item when planning a trip to the Park Grand London Hotel. Add some of the most Instagrammable places in London to your itinerary and look forward to securing photos you’ll treasure forever. 

Tower Bridge

Tower Bridge is an icon of London. During your stay at a London Hyde Park hotel, you can visit the attraction and walk across the glass walkways and take panoramic photos of the city. Even without going inside, the area around Tower Bridge is one of the most photogenic areas in London. You can shoot the suspension bridge itself as well as the Tower of London, the River Thames, City Hall, and Shad Thames. 

Granary Square

Granary Square is a public plaza located a short walk from Kings Cross Station. It’s filled with over a thousand water jets and fountains that perform a choreographed dance and are illuminated by night. You can capture artistic photos here at any time of day but it’s perfect for night photography. Afterwards, you can sip a cocktail at one of the bars that are located in Coal Drops Yard.

Little Venice

Nicknamed for its resemblance to Italy’s romantic city, Little Venice is a neighbourhood in Maida Vale. It’s personified by tree-lined boulevards that run alongside the junction of the Paddington Arm of the Grand Union Canal and the Regent's Canal. Barges are docked on the banks while small boats drift along the water. Guests of the Park Grand Paddington can enjoy leisurely morning photo walks in Little Venice.

Notting Hill

This bohemian neighbourhood is known for its pastel-hued townhouses, public gardens, and vintage boutiques. If you’re staying in a London Hyde Park hotel then you can visit early in the day to take photos and observe the Portobello Road Market spring to life.

Leadenhall Market

This ornate Victorian market features a high glass roof and handsome facades for its resident shops, cafes, bakeries, and salons. It’s a fantastic spot to get creative with your photography and spotlight the spectacular architecture. 

The Shard

You’ll want to get a snap of the Shard – the tallest building in London – during your holiday at 4 star hotels in London. You can visit the observation deck or one of the bars and restaurants for an aerial view. But, in reality, shooting the skyscraper from the ground is just as fun. Experiment with getting close-ups from the base as well as perspectives from the bridges and across the river. 

Primrose Hill

Primrose Hill rises to the north of Regent’s Park and provides enchanting views of the city skyline. The park is free to visit and minimal effort is needed. Visit early or around sunset for the best light. As well as capturing images of the city, Primrose Hill is great for getting selfies. Couples and families staying at the Park Grand London Hotel are urged to pay a visit here to update their photo albums.

[livingcorner]

How to transform an ugly duckling wall into a star feature

Unsightly walls bring down the look and feel of a garden. For large gardens, the view often can be fixed with plantings that screen the wall. However, an unattractive wall is often more imposing in smaller gardens because it takes up a big portion of the view and becomes a dominant element in the space. Learn how to hide an ugly wall and transform an eyesore into an asset.

You're reading: How to transform an ugly duckling wall into a star feature

Photo: Jo Cowen Architects

Wall checklist: Before you can dream up ways to disguise an unsightly wall, you need to consider a few factors. Your answers to these questions should guide what kinds of solutions you use to hide the wall:

Ownership: Does your customer own this wall, or is it their neighbor’s? If your client own the wall, you have more possibilities for making permanent changes. If it’s the neighbor’s, you will be constrained to using plants or other ways of altering the view.

Governance: Will changes to this wall need to be approved before construction? Is the wall visible from the street? It’s common for walls that are visible from the street to use only prescribed materials as defined in your customer’s homeowner’s association or municipality rules and regulations.

Structure: Is this wall an exterior wall of a home or outbuilding, a retaining wall or a nonstructural site wall? The type of wall affects what you can and cannot do.

Boston ivy (Parthenocissus tricuspidata, zones 4 to 8) grows on this exterior wall in Portland. Photo: Louise Lakier

Grow vines on the wall. Growing vines directly onto the wall has some challenges, but they can be a great option for site walls or walls that are not a part of the home.

Look for vines that have the ability to grasp directly onto the wall’s surface and are not invasive in your climate. Hot-climate gardeners may consider creeping fig (Ficus pumila, USDA zones 9 to 11; find your zone), and gardeners in cool climates may use something like climbing hydrangea (Hydrangea anomala ssp. petiolaris, zones 4 to 8).

Orange clock vine (Thunbergia gregorii, zones 9 to 10) grows on a custom iron trellis in Los Angeles. Photo: SB Garden Design

Read more: Using Limestone for Gardens | How Much Lime to Add to Soil

Put a trellis in front. Instead of planting directly on the wall, grow vines on a sturdy trellis in front of the wall to screen it. This method is especially useful if your client does not own the wall — it’s on a neighboring property — or you can not grow vines directly onto the wall.

A trellis is typically made of either wood or metal and is firmly secured in the ground with footings. Any vine that twines — attaches itself by wrapping around a structure — is a great pick for trellis.

Photo: Matarozzi Pelsinger Builders

Add a living wall. Living walls make a dense, lush texture of plants that spread across a vertical surface. There are many systems available on the market, but a living wall is going to require more maintenance than using only vines.

When searching for the right product, choose a living wall system that has been successfully used outdoors in your climate. Living walls are kind of an extreme living environment for plants, because they tend to dry out and use only a small amount of soil. Some living wall systems are hydroponic — with no soil at all. The living wall system usually comes with special components for attaching the structure to an existing wall. They also typically require water hookup to the irrigation lines within the system.

If you want a customized living wall to hide an existing wall, work with a landscape designer or landscape architect with experience doing living wall designs.

Photo: Cue & Co of London

Use a facade treatment. If the wall you want to cover is a structural wall, then it’s safe to apply a facade treatment that attaches directly onto it. This can be in the form of a wood cladding, like the one pictured, or it can be metal, stone, brick or stucco, depending on the surface of the wall.

Photo: Outhouse Design

Attach art panels. Many types of artistic panels — mostly made from metal — can be custom built and attached to an existing drab wall. The panels come in different designs and textures and attach directly to the wall as decorative elements.

The Cor-Ten steel panels pictured here work well because they have a high contrast against the existing wall and are sized to fit the space.

Read more: 14+ Ingenious Ways to Get Rid of Cats in Your Yard

Place elements in front. Place elements in front of the wall, as has been done here with bamboo planting and a protruding white textured accent panel. A panel like this is a simple site wall that acts as an architectural element within a small space and is flanked by vertical plantings.

A panel like this can be a free-floating structure that doesn’t touch or build upon the existing wall. It’s a handy way to completely screen a wall that is not on your property.

Photo: Clifton Interiors Ltd

Build up. Pictured here is a smart example of a wood screen built on top of a low brick wall. The wood cladding is integrated thoughtfully with the existing low brick wall and extends up to offer more privacy to a small urban garden.

Photo: V.I.Photography & Design

Build a raised bed. A planted raised bed at the base of an unsightly wall helps hide the wall behind it. This method is useful for the medium-sized garden that can dedicate space to a raised bed.

The important decision will be what types of plants you use against the wall. Choose appropriate plants for the microclimate of your wall face. For example, a north-facing wall is going to be cooler than a south-facing wall; east-facing walls are generally cooler than west-facing walls because they don’t get late afternoon sun.

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article was written by Falon Mihalic. This article is from Houzz. Mihalic is a landscape architect in Texas and Florida and owner of Falon Land Studio LLC.

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/how-to-transform-an-ugly-duckling-wall-into-a-star-feature/

[architectnews]

Huabang International Centre Sky Deck, Guangzhou

Huabang International Centre Sky Deck, Guangzhou Mixed-Use Building, Retail Architecture China News

Huabang International Centre Sky Deck in Guangzhou

14 Apr 2021

Huabang International Centre Sky Deck

Architects: 10 Design

Location: Pazhou, Guangzhou, China

Lifting of Sky Deck Ceremony Held for Huabang International Centre in Guangzhou

The latest stage of construction at 10 Design’s Huabang International Centre has been marked with a special ceremony to celebrate the lifting of the sky deck that connects the two buildings within the scheme in Guangzhou, China.

Design Partner of 10 Design, Nick Cordingley, comments: “10 Design was invited by Huabang to witness this significant milestone of the construction. The lifting operation took place successfully with the steel structures of the sky deck rising 134.5m in height above Pazhou, a major new CBD in the City of Guangzhou.”

The sky deck towers are prominently situated with its north fronting along the simmering Zhujiang River, providing views to the CBD of the Haizhu district and the central axis of Guangzhou. One of the sky deck towers will be trade-marked as Huabang Headquarters, whilst the other tower will accommodate a five star hotel and serviced apartment, totaling approximately 145,000 sqm GFA.

Nick and the design team have created the sky deck into a signature urban statement – an elevated public space where one can enjoy a spectacular view across the river to the striking skyline of Guangzhou. The sky deck will provide a wide range of amenities for public enjoyment including al fresco dining, a city park, an observatory deck, and a city art gallery.

Nick further adds that beyond the sky deck is the ‘vertical green valley’, the inspiration of which unifies the two towers with a series of stepping green terraces cascading towards the sky deck, unifying the overall composition. The stepping terraces at the upper level then set the rhythm of the main facades of the two towers, allowing the vertical lines to be articulated in the face of the façade.”

Edmond Lau, Associate Partner of 10 Design says: “The Huabang International Centre will provide a vibrant and dynamic workplace and public destination to the internationally recognised Pazhou district. This exciting new innovation and technology hub will become a new home to many internationally renowned e-commerce giants like Tencent, Alibaba and Xiaomi.”  

Huabang International Centre in Guangzhou, China – Building Information

Location: Pazhou, Guangzhou, China Client: Huabang Holdings Group Scope by 10 Design Architecture and CGI Type: Office, hotel, and retail Site Area: 9,293sqm GFA: 145,000sqm Height: Office tower at 172m; Hotel tower at 150m Status: Under construction

10 Design Team Design Partner – Nick Cordingley Project Partner – Edmond Lau

Architectural Team Ken Xu, Bryan Diehl, Shuo Zhang, Gloria Yuen, Dan Narita, Raymond Chu, Ruoyu Wang, Muzhen Huang, Sean Zhao, Zoe Song, Christy Li

CGI Team Peter Alsterholm, Yasser Salomon, Henry Han, Laura Simonsen, Francisco Barrera

Consultants 10 Design – Lead Design Architect Guangzhou Design Institute – Local Architect China Construction Second Engineering Bureau Ltd. – Main Contractor JANGHO – Façade Contractor LPA – Lighting Design Consultant PLACE- Landscape Consultant RBS – Structural Engineer WSP – MEP Engineer

Visualisations by Frontop

10 DESIGN

Huabang International Centre Sky Deck, Guangzhou images / information received 140421

Location: Pazhou, Guangzhou, China

Architecture in Guangzhou

Guangzhou Architecture

Guangzhou Architecture Designs – chronological list

Guangzhou Architecture News

Poly 335 Financial Center Guangzhou Design: Goettsch Partners image courtesy of architects Poly 335 Financial Center Guangzhou

Pazhou District Masterplan Guangzhou Design: Goettsch Partners image courtesy of architects Pazhou District Masterplan Guangzhou

Chinese Architect

Huabang International Centre, Pazhou Architects: 10 DESIGN image courtesy of architects Huabang International Centre Guangzhou Building

Parc Central Design: Benoy with Ronald Lu and Partners image Courtesy architecture office Parc Central Guangzhou

Chinese Buildings

Comments / photos for the Huabang International Centre Sky Deck, Guangzhou by 10 DESIGN Hong Kong page welcome

The post Huabang International Centre Sky Deck, Guangzhou appeared first on e-architect.