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suituuup · 4 years ago

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The Bachelorette

For a fic x art trade with @thehorriblyslowmurderer. Thank you, I hope you like it :D

rated: T

Word count: 2,5k

ao3 link

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” Beca hisses as she steps out of the car, making a dash in the snow for the front door of the cabin the Bellas will be staying at for the next three nights.

She punches in the code given by the owner via email and pushes the door open just as Chloe makes it to the top of the steps, following her fiancée inside.

“Oh wow,” she breathes, taking in the huge space that’s a perfect mix of authentic and modern, with a jaw-dropping view of the range of mountains in the distance through the large bay window in the living room.

The perks of having a famous girlfriend; they didn’t have to pay for anything, Beca having made a deal with the owners to promote the place on her Instagram while they stayed there for their bachelorette weekend.

A fire is already crackling in the wood-burner and a welcome basket with goodies sits on the kitchen island. Chloe walks over, plucking the note.

“Dear Beca and Chloe. We hope you and your friends have the best time at our cabin,” she reads outloud before taking a look at what’s inside: a couple bottles of wine, cheese, chocolate and fruits. “That’s so sweet of them.”

Beca hums, sliding her arms around Chloe’s waist from behind and hooking her chin over her shoulder. She nips at Chloe’s earlobe. “How much time do you think we have until the others get here?”

“We’re here, pitches!” Amy’s voice interrupts Chloe’s lusty thoughts before she can reply.

She giggles at Beca’s groan, patting her forearm and stepping out of her embrace to greet their friends. Everyone’s been so busy this year, their last reunion dating back to last New Years Eve. “Hey guys!”

“We brought booze!” Stacie exclaims, holding up two bottles of tequila. “I’ve got like, a bunch more in the trunk.”

“Let’s pimp this place up, ladies,” Aubrey instructs, carrying a box containing what looks like rainbow themed-decorations.

“Oh jeez,” Beca mutters as once everyone greeted everyone, the Bellas move about the place to prep dinner and whatever else they have planned for herself and Chloe. “Should we be scared?” She mumbles to her fiancée.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Stacie says as she walks past them, winking.

Yeah. They should definitely be scared.

The first night turns out to be pretty low key, Jessica, Ashley and Aubrey whipping up an amazing dinner for all of them. They drink wine and play a drunken game of Twister and Cards Against Humanity, turning in rather early as they plan on hitting the slopes the morning after.

“Today was so much fun,” Chloe gushes as she swipes through her photos once they’ve made it back to the cabin after their day spent skiing. “I even caught your fall on film.”

Beca grumbles, trying to get her cold fingers to work down her jacket zipper. “You better not post that on social media, Beale.”

“How’s your ass?” Chloe smirks, locking her phone and tossing it on the bed.

“Bruised.”

“Poor baby,” Chloe sighs, pushing to her feet and sliding up behind Beca. She peppers her jaw with soft kisses and nuzzles her cheek. “Come shower with me?”

Beca seems to fight off a shiver, not one triggered by the cold. “Be there in a sec.”

Walking into their fancy ensuite bathroom, Chloe turns on the spray in the Italian shower and strips the remaining layers on her body before stepping under the hot water. Slender arms loop around her waist less than a minute later, Beca’s warm body pressing against hers.

“You think you can be quiet?” Is murmured against her ear as one of Beca’s hands slides downwards.

Chloe bites back a moan, turning around in Beca’s arms and stepping back until her back hits the stone wall behind her. She watches with darkened eyes as Beca lowers herself to the tile floor and hooks one leg over her shoulder, Chloe’s eyes sliding shut at that first lick.

When they eventually come out of the shower a while later dressed in matching robes, they find Bride-to-be shirts folded on their bed, along with a sticker stuck to one of them.

quit boning and meet us downstairs! the party’s awaitin’

The back of the shirt sports selfie of them that they must have taken from Chloe’s instagram.

“This is so cheesy,” Beca grumbles as she shrugs it on, but Chloe knows she secretly loves it.

“There they are!” Stacie shouts when they make it downstairs fifteen minutes later.

Music is pumping through Beca’s expensive wireless speaker and the coffee table is covered in various liquor bottles, snacks and a handful of pizza boxes.

“Have a seat, ladies,” Amy motions to the two chairs facing the couch with a flourish of her hand, bowing her head.

Chloe and Beca sit down, and Jessica and Ashely set a rainbow tiara on their heads and sling a bride-to-be sash across their chests.

“We had each of you fill out a bachelorette quiz a week ago, and you’ll have to guess the other’s answers. If you get it wrong, you have to take a shot,” Aubrey explains, motioning towards the row of shots set on the coffee table.

“And if we get it right?” Chloe questions, cocking an eyebrow.

She’s gonna crush this game.

“You get to pick a present out of the gift bag.” She nods to the large tote bag sat between their chairs. “Any questions?”

Both shake their heads as Aubrey plops down on the couch between Emily and CR. “Chloe, what is Beca’s favorite feature about you?”

“That’s easy,” Chloe beams, glancing at her fiancée with heart-eyes. “My eyes.”

Beca rolls hers as Chloe leans in to kiss her cheek before reaching into the bag. She wraps her hand around a bottle and pulls it out, reading its label. “Ooooh, coconut massage oil.”

“Boring. Alright, next question,” Stacey says, plucking the sheet from Aubrey’s hands and ignoring Aubrey’s objection. “What could Chloe eat every day?”

Beca smirks, and without a beat of hesitation, replies, “Me.”

Emily flushes hard, Stacie smirks devilishly, while Aubrey makes a face. The rest of the girls hoot and whistle, and the tips of Beca’s ears redden.

“I knew you’d put something dirty on a bachelorette quizz,” Beca murmurs into Chloe’s ear a beat later as she leans across the short distance between them. “Otherwise I would have said pizza.”

Chloe grins, leaning in to peck her lips. “Correct.”

Beca fishes a gift out of the bag and unfolds the clothing item. Her cheeks turn a shade darker. “Wow, that’s… I have no words.”

The pair of hot pink panties read: You may now bang the bride.

“I love them!” Chloe says, snatching them from her fiancée’s hand. “I’ll keep ‘em.”

“Chloe, what was Beca’s first impression of you?”

“She thought that I was crazy,” Chloe replies. She shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “I did break into her shower.”

“The word we were looking for was intense,” Stacie corrects with a tut. “Take a shot.”

“Oh come on, she’s just being polite because I’m her fiancée!” Chloe argues with a laugh.

“Take a shot, ginger!” Amy shouts.

With a grumble, Chloe plucks the shot glass in front of her off the table and knocks it back, grimacing at the burn as it slides down her throat.

Jessica is the one to ask the next question. “Beca, what was Chloe’s first car?”

“Seriously!?” Beca asks. “How am I supposed to know that?”

“You do!” Chloe points out, a shit-eating grin spreading across her features.

“Really?” Beca mumbles and reaches out to take her first shot.

“My old Jeep! We had sex in it,” Chloe blurts out, giggled as Beca chokes a little on the liquid. “And broke the front seat.”

“TMI,” Aubrey winces, her nose scrunching up before she takes a sip from her red solo cup.

“Chloe, what job did Beca want to do as a kid?” Emily asks.

Chloe’s eyes light up. “Oooh, she wanted to be a detective!”

Beca chuckles. “I was obsessed with Scooby-Doo as a kid.”

“Aw, you found your real life Daphne!” Ashley gushes while Beca rolls her eyes.

She bends to pick something from the bag, pulling out a pair of padded handcuffs.

“Oh, nice! Ours isn’t padded,” Chloe comments, as she takes them from her fiancée. She leans in to whisper something into Beca’s ear. “I know you like it when it hurts, but I don’t like seeing you all bruised up.”

“Beca, your submissive is showing,” Stacie states when Beca blushes from Chloe’s comment, plucking the sheet from Emily’s hold.

“Beca, what’s Chloe’s biggest accomplishment?”

“Easy. She has two: winning the Worlds and getting into vet school.”

“Nice, babe,” Chloe praises, holding her hand up for a high-five.

By the time they’re finished with the questions, Chloe is definitely buzzed (she had like three shots out of fifteen questions, which isn’t too bad in her opinion), and they’ve added a few gifts to their pile, a variety of sweet and kinky: matching Mrs and Mrs mugs, a bottle of lube, two sets of gorgeous satin pajamas, a spa treatment for two at Chloe’s favorite establishment in NYC, and a strapless strap-on (the best in the market, according to Stacie).

“Now we believe Beca has something planned for Chloe,” Aubrey says as she stands, taking Beca’s phone from Beca’s hand.

Chloe’s head whips to the left towards Beca, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “You do?”

“Mhm,” Beca hums while four of the girls move the coffee table to make space. She brushes a too short kiss to Chloe’s lips, pulling away before Chloe’s ready to end it, and casts her a wink as she steps backwards. “Go sit in that armchair.”

The opening notes of Beyoncé’s Dance For You drift through the speakers, Chloe’s jaw dropping when she realizes Beca is about to dance for her in front of their friends.

“Oh my gosh,” Chloe breathes out with a laugh, her body temperature cranking up a notch as she gets comfortable.

Beca’s hips start to swivel to the beat of the song, hands leaving her hips to slowly hike up her sides. Her fingers tangle into her brunette hair as she twists to stand sideways and slowly shimmies lower. One hand leaving her hair, Beca traces her bottom lip with her pointer finger and bites down onto the tip before she straightens, arching her back so her ass sticks out as she rises from her crouched position. She adds a hair flip to the mix before slowly strutting towards Chloe, perfectly on cue with the beat, all the while keeping her gaze locked with Chloe’s.

“Work it, girl!” Stacie shouts as Beca stands in front of Chloe, bending down so that they share the same breath.

A chill runs down Chloe’s spine as she resists closing the distance between them, knowing from the wickedness flashing in Beca’s eyes that she’s bound to pull away before their lips can touch.

Beca spins around, her hips matching the chorus as she bends at the knees with her legs spread and grinds it low for a few beats. Her perfect ass brushes against Chloe’s body on her way back up, and it takes everything in Chloe not to grab and squeeze it.

The volume rises around them as the girls cheer and hoot, but Chloe can only focus on Beca and how sexy she is as she turns back to face her, hands running through her own hair then drifting down the curve of her neck, over her breasts and stomach.

“It’s called a lap dance for a reason, shortstack,” Amy calls out as the song flawlessly transitions to Drunk In Love, the perfect arrangement no doubt one of Beca’s works.

Chloe’s mouth dries up as Beca sets both hands on Chloe’s knees and spreads them apart.

“No touching,” Beca husks lowly, nipping at the shell of her ear and eliciting a quiet moan from Chloe. She turns around and her hips start to move in a slow, sensual dance; swerving, popping, grinding and occasionally rubbing against Chloe’s crotch.

Spinning back around, she braces a hand by Chloe’s head and sets her right knee in the space between Chloe’s left thigh and the arm of the chair, rolling her body towards Chloe once. She straddles her lap next, her lips parted to accommodate her heavier breathing as she stares down at Chloe.

Chloe’s fingers dig into the leather of the arm rest to keep her hands from touching Beca as her hips gyrate in lazy circles in her lap. When the song comes to an end, Beca cups her cheek, pulling her into a deep, languid kiss which Chloe eagerly returns, finally giving in to the burning desire and palming her ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze.

“Alright, alright! We get the message,” Aubrey’s voice cuts through their lustful lip lock.

“That was so freaking hot,” Chloe breathes across Beca’s lips, nipping at the bottom one before backing away. “I need the rest of that performance later.”

Beca wets her lips, smirking. “Deal.”

Games less centered around the brides-to-be follow as they pass around a joint of weed and eat pizza while sprawled out on the various couches in the living room.

It’s past three am by the time they head upstairs, and Chloe can tell by the expression on Beca’s face that she’s high. Chloe only took one hit and feels fine, if not still a little drunk from the shots she downed at the start of the party.

“You okay?” She asks, catching Beca staring at her with a look as she pulls her sleeping shirt over her head.

Beca nods. “I’m just… we’ll be married in less than a month.” She seems to ponder on her words for a few seconds. “Married. That’s like… big.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow and steps closer, lowering herself on Beca’s lap as she sits at the foot of the bed. “Are you freaking out?”

“Weirdly, no,” Beca replies as her arms loop around Chloe’s waist. “I actually can’t wait. For our wedding, our honeymoon, our kids…”

“Our kids, huh?” Chloe questions in amusement. She twirls a brunette lock around her pointer finger. “How many kids are we talking?”

“Mmm, at least two. I didn’t like being an only child and you loved growing up with siblings so I want that for our children, too.”

Chloe’s smile is so big, it almost hurts. “Sounds like a good plan.” She brushes a kiss to the apple of Beca’s cheek. “You know what else sounds like a good plan? You giving me the rest of that performance. Preferably with less clothes on.”

Beca’s eyes darken at that, her lips curving into a smirk. “Yes, ma’am.”

#bechloe #bechloe fic

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willow-salix · 4 years ago

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Fluffember prompt: Song

Day 15 of isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

“Oh my gods do I even want to know?” I yelled. I had walked innocently into the kitchen, as you do. You know it’s early-ish...okay it’s not the early but it's early enough in that I just woke up and haven't had my first cup of coffee yet. To me that’s as early as it gets, my day starts when I wake up and counts down from there.

So, I walked into the kitchen where Virgil had told me he’d left me what he was calling a coconut mocha. I think he’d made it with coconut milk and he’d chopped up one of my bounty bars to sprinkle on top. I don’t honestly know but I was there for it.

“What the heck are you doing?” I continued to yell when no one stopped what they were doing, let alone answered me.

Alan was lying flat out on the table top, I mean, I’d seen worse to be honest, that boy sleeps in some strange places, but he wasn’t sleeping, oh no. That would be too simple. He was lying back with his mouth open and as I watched Gordon shook some cereal into his mouth.

“Gordon, what are you-” I started, pausing in total disbelief when he followed the cereal up by pouring milk in.

“CHEW! CHEW! CHEW! CHEW! CHEW!” he yelled, dancing around excited like a demented goblin.

Alan spluttered and choked a couple of times but he kept on chewing like his life depended on it, which it probably did, since he’d neglected to sit up.

“If he dies I’m telling Scott it was your fault,” I warned Grodon.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, not in the least concerned as he turned to look at me. It was then that I saw the front of his shirt was soaked with milk. I raised an eyebrow at him, he grinned in return.

“I give up with you both. Why are you doing this anyway?”

“All the bowls are in the dishwasher.”

I didn’t even reply to that, they are lazy little sods and I’d given up on them.

“I've given up on you,” I told them again, retrieving my coffee and snagging a couple of cereal bars to take with me, because today I was doing that thing with John again.

No! Get your minds out of the gutter! I meant forcing him to video call with my Mum again.

He hates it, she’s useless, she doesn’t move the camera so we are either looking at her chin and up her nose or the top of her head. She also has a habit of talking over you and interrupting after she’s asked you a question and you’re answering. John despairs and just sits there quietly looking cute while we chat.

***

“I swear I am so sick of walking into a room and finding you two doing something weird!”

“You get used to it,” John sighed, his eyes taking in the sight before him.

Both Alan and Gordon had something that looked like it had been cut from a wig, I made a mental note to check my clip in hair streaks, I recognised that colour of red, and it was currently being glued to their chins.

“This isn’t working,” Gordon complained after trying unsuccessfully to stick it on for the third time.

“I’m giving up, it’s making my chin itch,” Alan sighed, scrubbing at his chin with a wet cloth.

“What are you doing?” John asked in that tone that tells you that he’s absolutely done with your crap and wishes he was anywhere but there. Honestly he’d been like that for an hour already, I’d even gone so far as to sneakily lock the window in case he tried to escape my mum by diving out of it.

“Nothing much,” Gordon answered in a too casual tone that neither of us believed.

“Hey,” Alan said, seeing me standing there. “Can we borrow your makeup?”

“Erm...sure?”

“Cool,” Alan shot off to fetch it, for what purpose I couldn’t hazard a guess.

“Need a hand with anything?” I asked when he got back, practically dragging my big makeup box. It’s not that I use a lot, I just seem to accumulate that stuff, like odd socks and hair bands, it just appears in the box and I have no recollection of ever purchasing it. I told John that it’s magic appearing makeup and that it must be the makeup fairy but for some reason he wasn’t inclined to believe me.

“Nah, we’re good,” Gordon assured me.

“You’re not gonna do anything weird with it, are you?” I asked, suddenly rather worried about my eyeliner babies. I needed those to look human.

"No," Alan said in that long, drawn out way teenagers had that told you you were being ridiculous to even suggest it. How dare I be concerned about my own things?

"Fine, but you had better not wreck anything," I warned them. "Or you're buying replacements."

"Sure, sure, whatever," Gordon shooed us away with a wave of his hand.

"Come on, let's leave them to it," John suggested. "I'll make lunch."

"Now that's an offer I'd be mad to refuse," I answered, following him. We didn't get a lot of time alone to chill, so a nice, quiet lunch (that I don't have to make!) would be most welcome.

"Witchy!" Alan yelled from the lounge less than twenty minutes later. I put down the toasted sandwich I was eating with a sigh.

"Yeah?" I called up the stairs.

"Can you help us?"

I looked at John with a raised eyebrow, he shrugged in return.

Sighing deeply I grabbed my plate, dropped a kiss on his nose and climbed back up the stairs.

"What fresh hell is this?"

A mess greeted me, a scattered mess of makeup, discarded cloths and bits of chopped up hair which they had obviously both given up on. They looked at me so pathetically that I knew I'd help them. I knew it, they knew it, I was done for.

"Fine," I sighed, biting into my sandwich. "What do I need to do?"

***

"OK, almost set," I told them as I arranged Gordon's phone on a tripod, ready to record. "You two ready?"

Two hands giving the thumbs up poked up from the darkness of the stage they had constructed from a couple of chairs, old black parachute material and a couple of remote controlled flashing beacon lights and a stand rigged up for the ball.

"Alright, starting to record…now," I hit record and then switched on the music, the familiar beat starting to echo out around the lounge.

Their heads popped up and they bopped to the beat, keeping time. Perfectly on cue Gordon began to mime along while Alan pulled funny faces in time to the music.

I tried very hard not to giggle or stare too hard at their eyes, because that would most definitely set me off and I didn't want to distract them. After they had told me they wanted to make a music video I'd been sceptical, I must admit but they were doing amazingly well.

I awaited my cue and then started flicking the beacons on and off, having set them to different colours. They were perfect as disco lights, but the finishing touch was definitely the miniature disco ball they had found from parts unknown which I lowered by pushing down on the arm of the stand.

I clicked off the recorder when the song ended and left them to their editing with a promise of rounding up their family to watch the premier later that night.

***

"What are we supposed to be watching?" Scott asked.

"No clue," Virgil shrugged. "She just said the boys had a project."

"She wasn't broken when she came back," John added helpfully.

"It could be anything," Grandma sighed.

"Let's try to have faith in them, shall we?" Jeff told them. "Whatever it is I'm sure they worked hard."

The lights dimmed and the holoprojector lit up as Alan, Gordon and I slid into the room like heroes. I stepped aside so the boys could bow in greeting.

There was silence for the first few seconds as they watched the screen, unsure what the hell was going on, and then there was laughter, lots and lots of laughter…

Link to their music video is here:

#Gordon Tracy #alan tracy #thunderbirds are go #Isolation Island #Thunderbirds in isolation #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015

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nevergiveupneverrun · 5 years ago

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Bodyguard - Chapter Forty-Six “My Worst Enemy”

Hello everybody, how are you? I hope your Christmas was great if you celebrate it. Here is chapter Forty-Six of my Story Bodyguard. I hope you will like this chapter.

I’m sorry in advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link to the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

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Once showered, I felt like I had clearer ideas: as if my mind had cleared.

I knew what I had to do, what I had to say and especially to make Amelia understand.

The discussion was going to be delicate and I already feared it in advance.

But I had to take responsibility for my actions until the end but also and above all ensure my mission: that was the most important.

Amelia’s life was at stake and I had to stop by all means this crazy who spoils her daily life.

And it was up to me to do it: my place was by her side… to protect her.

Going back to the corridor, I hear two distinct voices stand out and I decide to join the kitchen to give myself the first coffee of my day.

Steps approach me after a few seconds and looking up at my amber nectar, I recognize Meredith a few steps from me.

- Do you want coffee?

- No, thanks, Owen.

I take a look behind her, watching for the arrival of a second person but no presence on the horizon.

- Amelia just went back to the bedroom to take a shower, she specifies with a knowing smile as I find her picture.

I look away for a few moments, before restarting the conversation.

- Were you able to share everything you wanted with her?

- Yes, she will listen to the models… she told me that she had been inspired during your trip and that she had already finalized the text of a song. I’m so happy to hear that, I was very afraid that the drama would completely block her, but obviously your getaway was a breath of fresh air…

- I think she really enjoyed it this week. The return to Seattle was a little rougher, however, I add taking a sip of my coffee.

- Yes, I understand. But she will take over. I found her very smiling this morning, a radiant face. I don’t worry… really none…

Her eyes are piercing and I have the impression that she is trying to decipher each tiny reaction on my part on my face, in my gesture. The implication behind her words was obvious.

- I hope you get it right.

- Either Amelia had very well deluded seeing me, but I know her and I know that she doesn’t know how to easily pretend annoyances or difficult moments. Either the joie de vivre that I observed is very real, and part of a disaster, I don’t see what could take away that pretty smile…

A tension takes hold of me, and I recognize the beginnings of a lump in my stomach…

Remorse and regret already torment me when I know that the joie de vivre will probably only be temporary… last night made her glimpse an illusion, but an illusion that seems to please her more than she should… too much for me not to make her suffer.

- Owen? You’re okay? Meredith, suddenly asks me, after getting closer to me.

Her eyes scrutinize me intensely, trying to understand my change of attitude and this pensive and anxious air that must have taken place a handful of seconds on my face.

- Yes, I’m fine… sorry I didn’t sleep much last night.

- Yes, I guess Amelia’s anxiety attack kept you pretty busy, she continues in an understanding and compassionate tone.

I dare not answer to support her words.

I feel guilty about her worried look because it was not so much Amelia’s fears that kept me from sleeping.

- And the package from Mark? I ask to change the subject completely.

Meredith remains silent for a moment, surprised by my question, but doesn’t question me and ends up answering.

- There was indeed the invitation for his evening of celebration of albums sales and also very special attention…

This sentence that she leaves pending intrigues me and I tense up imagining a possible link with the threats that hang over Amelia.

- Nothing to worry about Owen… anyway, not nature you surely imagine. In addition to the invitation, the package contained a dress. A dress which he asks Amelia to wear for this evening… of the great Mark…

- Can you develop?

I suddenly perceive her embarrassment, before hearing her voice again.

- Mark is part of the same record company as Amelia… don’t misinterpret my words and my reaction. I have nothing against this work and I don’t question the choice that was made to sign him… but let’s say that he has a conception of his life as an artist that I hardly like….

- That is to say?

- Mark takes pleasure in living his artist status to the end… in a rock star way. Using all the excesses to which this environment gives you access without any effort: alcohol and women… many women. He is an avid player.

- Yes, that I could realize it by myself.

- It’s interesting besides because Amelia exerts a certain fascination on him. Because she is not like the other women he puts in his bed in two minutes. Because she has exceptional sensitivity and musical intuition… and he has repeatedly offered to do a duet with Amelia… not later than a few days ago…

Meredith’s details stir my suspicions: from our first meeting, I had a mixed feeling on this man, his attitude of « predator » in the presence of Amelia had challenged me.

Could this fascination go further, to the point of obsession?

Until the harassment of which she was a victim today?

- Ugh, damn… I’m talking, I’m talking and the clock is ticking without waiting, Meredith exclaims, her eyes riveted on the kitchen clock. Sorry, Owen, I’m going to have to go, I have an appointment with the record company in twenty minutes… and I prefer not to arrive late, I still have to prove myself as a new manager of Amelia…

- Go ahead, I answer with a smile, following her with my gaze towards the entrance of the apartment.

I open the door for her by whispering her a “see you soon”.

She waves to me before taking quick and confident steps towards the elevator.

I close the door carefully behind me.

I go back to the kitchen, get my cup of coffee then head to the living room to take a seat on the sofa.

I finish my coffee in one go, put my cup on the coffee table while thinking about the conversation to come, while I watch for Amelia’s return.

My eyes are naturally close as if to support my concentration.

Prepare my arguments.

Think every word used.

Standard sentences are already invading my mind as I immerse myself in an imaginary discussion.

That night perhaps meant nothing to her. Nothing serious. Nothing deep.

Maybe everything will be much easier than I thought.

Maybe she will understand without me having to justify myself.

- You meditate?

A question tinged with a touch of mischief breaks my thoughts.

I open my eyes and the image that welcomes me surprises me instantly… but also drawn tight me directly.

Amelia appears to me, a few steps away, wet hair and dressed in a unique red dress, in a style completely different from what I had seen her wear until then. The dress is quite short, reaching her mid-thigh and very clearly shaping her forms. The top of the dress is in complete contrast: a fluid material that reveals a pronounced neckline by a draped scoop neck that partially covers her chest.

- What do you think about it? She asks me, turning on herself.

The back of the dress completes the look: a completely bareback, the material of the dress revealing itself only at the birth of her butt… perfectly shaped by the tight texture.

- It’s special… not really your style…

- It’s a little too much, right? She adds, smiling. That’s what I thought when I saw her but I wanted to be clear about it, but it’s the style he likes, it doesn’t surprise me.

Her precision makes me directly understand which dress it is following information from Meredith.

- Is that the dress Mark sent you?

She nods, then walks toward me with a mysterious air.

- But the most important for me is your opinion… and I have the impression that you are not very fan… but I have a hypothesis…

She stops right in front of me, sitting on the sofa while smiling at me for a few moments.

- Maybe you prefer without the dress? She asks me with a teasing look that I had rarely seen her.

I watch her dumbfounded hands grab the fabric of the dress and pull it up slightly, as she sits on me, placing her knees on each side of my pelvis.

Her warmth and her coconut hued scent suddenly and intensely surround me.

- I wouldn’t hold it against you, if you prefer that I take it off, she whispers into my ear.

Her sensual and soft voice gives me a slight shiver.

She stares at my eyes for a quarter of a second then kisses me.

She detaches herself for a breath and then takes me away in a much more passionate kiss where I get lost… my head falling against the edge of the sofa.

My hands escape finding her waist, my lips participate in the dance obediently, my senses awaken.

But in parallel, my consciousness also rises and resonates widely in my, winning the battle against the awakening of sensations.

I suddenly detach myself by pushing on her hips to move her away from me.

Amelia doesn’t understand my gesture: she just smiles looking for my lips again, but I turn my head firmly.

- Stop, Amelia…

- I haven't started anything yet to stop, she says, replacing her hands behind my neck.

I then decide to be clearer and lift her to sit next to me on the sofa.

- Seriously, stop, please…

She looks at me with big eyes, and immediately lowers the dress as best as she can to cover herself… and I perceive the most total misunderstanding to take hold of her in front of my attitude.

- What do you have? Did I do something… or say something?

I remain silent trying to prepare my words.

- Don’t worry… I take the pill if that’s what bothers you…

Her remark takes me by surprise: I had failed in all my duties. I hadn’t eve thought about the basic but determining problem of contraception. But obviously, the question had done more than cross her mind, we had indeed used no protection. Women are always more mature than us on these issues…

- Owen?

The most complete black hole in my head.

The sentences, the words that I reviewed a few minutes earlier have disappeared, leaving no traces. I’m reduced to improvising, awkwardly.

- We have to stop, Amelia… it should never have started…

- Stop? You didn’t say that yesterday…

The remark that I feared, but I deserve it…

- Well, I should have…

- You should have?

I remain silent for a few seconds, before resuming the voice as posed as possible.

I knew this moment was one of the hardest to come.

- Last night, it should never have gone that far. I want to apologize for my attitude.

- What exactly are you apologizing for? She resumes in a louder tone as she gets up.

I decided to imitate her and leave the sofa to replace myself in front of her.

- You know very well why I apologize…

- No, I don’t know, so I would like you to explain it to me, please.

- Amelia, this situation is as hard for me as for you…

- What a situation?

- Stop with your questions, I answer weakly. Stop pretending you don’t understand what I’m referring to, I said in a calm, firm voice.

- Well, assume until the end what you think and tell me! She continues, defying me intensely.

I remain silent for a few seconds to reduce the tension which was increasing in Amelia.

Then I end up speaking again.

- It was a mistake, Amelia… I don’t know what it took me…

She looks at me and I read everything I feared in her look of pain that intensifies under the weight of my words.

- What took you? You make love to me and you don’t know what took you. You know Owen, your weakness to you men, is that we know you can’t pretend…

- Listen, I lowered my guard… I made a mistake… and it won’t happen again…

- I don’t turn you on now, right? Was it a pity that made you react or was it that I was just the first woman in your bed in months and that I was only a way of releasing tensions?

- Don’t make it harder.

- And if I want it to happen again, does it count or not? Or is it, when you want it to suit you?

- Neither… you are…

- I am what?

- You are my client… I am here to protect you… not for…

A loud click rises in the room and pain spread over my face: she had just slapped me, and obviously with all her strength, literally cutting me off. But I don't hold it against her, on the contrary, I largely deserve this slap… and I deserved much more for what I made her suffer.

- You disappoint me so much… I thought you weren’t playing with me… but you’re like everyone else…

I look down, ashamed and feel bad about myself more than anything in the world at the moment, her words hurt.

- Amelia, it wouldn’t get you anywhere, you’re wasting your time, I am not…

- Call Jackson, I’m going to Mark’s party tonight… she continues, interrupting me bluntly.

I immediately raise my eyes, panicked at this unexpected request.

- Wait, it’s not reasonable, you just came back and this invitation is weird, just when we come back to Seattle.

-And then, a man invites me and has attention for me and immediately, he would be suspect?

- I’m just telling you to be careful…

- And I tell you we’re going out, it’s me who decided…

I sigh before her firm tone and the determination that emerges from her at this moment.

I knew how stubborn she could be, and the battle was lost in advance.

- As you want…

She immediately turns her back on me.

The situation completely eluded me… dramatically.

And a call slips between my lips as an attempt of last resort.

- Amelia… please…

She stops at the sound of my voice but takes several seconds before turning around.

- I am sorry…sincerely… I hope… I hope you will find the strength to forgive me…

- I don’t know Owen… I don’t know, she whispers.

I don’t know either….

I don’t know if I will forgive this hateful person who rekindles the pain deep in her eyes…

My worst enemy…

Me, Owen Hunt.

–––––––––––––––––––––––

Thank you for reading. Have a great week 💛

#greysanatomy #Meredith Grey #bodyguard #amelia shepherd #owen x amelia #amelia x owen #Owen Hunt #omelia #omelia fanfiction #omeliafics

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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 5 years ago

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author meme

Ooh. This looks like a fun way to indulge talking about myself and forcing other people to listen. :D Thanks @solomonara!

Author name: lurkinglurkerwholurks Fandoms you write for: Primarily Batfam. I’ve also dabbled in IronDad and did one very out-of-left-field Stranger Things crossover Where you post: AO3 with cross-posting to Tumblr

Most popular one shot*: By hits: Dry Drowning. Y’all are really into that Damian whump. I had no idea until I wrote it. By kudos: Safe House! Huh. Whoddathunk. I mean, again, y’all are rabid for Damian and also for Jason, so it seems like I should have pieced that together, but. By bookmarks: Again, Dry Drowning. By comments: Huh! In My Arms. I am genuinely surprised. It’s so new. Wow.

*Adding my own note here: I have works that were one-shots for nearly a year before I turned them into linked series fairly recently, so for the purpose of this question, I am going to consider them still as one-shots.

Most popular multi-chapter: By hits: Oh Nature and Nurture, by far. Which is good because that thing is a monster. By kudos: If The Sky Comes Falling Down (For You), which delights me because I’m very proud of it. By bookmarks: If The Sky, again. I did a good job stringing you along with the weekly updates, I guess. Go me. By comments: Nature and Nurture, and bless you all for that. Your comment sustain me in my battle.

Favourite story you wrote: Oh golly. I love all my stuff, even the ones tucked into my collections (I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts and Stop! It’s Fanon Time.) I think... if I were to avoid pics already mentioned, maybe Choose - Lose, just because it’s so radically different in style, or It Wasn’t Real (But We Were Happy) because it’s my wonderful sad, sad Tim fic? Gah, but Breathing. Breathing lets me talk about the genius that is Megan Whalen Turner, so maybe that one.

Story you were nervous to post: So many of them. The first two that came to mind were Bloody Brilliant, because it was my first time writing @audreycritter‘s Dev and I desperately wanted to get him right, and Mother Bruce and His Baby Birds, because it was my first fic ever and I was a w r e c k.

How do you choose your titles: Hahaaaaa. Sometimes a song lyric, sometimes a deliberate double meaning pulled from the fic itself (there’s rarely only one meaning), sometimes me yelling frantically at writer friend until they help, sometimes me picking the first thing to make me cackle.

Do you outline: Nnnnnno. So for a beast like N&N I may jot down ideas I don’t want to forget pertaining to what I want to hit in a particular chapter or age. But otherwise, no.

Complete: 50, if you don’t count the individual chapters in the collections as separate fits. Goodness gracious, that’s so many.

In progress: Two. Nature and Nurture is forever ongoing, and I have a Whumptober fic in the kettle.

Coming soon: The aforementioned Whumptober fic (the promised second part of Busted, for those wondering) and whatever other Whumptober disasters decide to appear before the end of the month.

Do you accept prompts: Sort of? Like, you’re always welcome to send. But I’ve had prompts sitting in there for like a year at this point, so you may be better served writing it yourself.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: I don’t know how to answer this. I’m usually excited for what I’m working on while I’m working on it, because I want it done. I’m always excited to make progress on Nature and Nurture. Everything else, I’ll get to it when I get to it.

That was a lot of gabbing from me, so please make me feel better by doing this yourself and tagging me so I can read. I love hearing about other people’s processes. Here, look, I’ll tag people to be sociable, and then the rest of you, please consider yourself tagged.

@audreycritter @jerseydevious @starknjarvis27 you’re my proof of sociability, ignore if you want, though I’d love to see your answers.

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reginacooks · 5 years ago

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Day 53

On this cold, blustery day in May when it should be in the 70s and we should be outside riding bikes and gardening, I spent part of my day cleaning our bathrooms and ceiling fans. After that, I wanted a reward, something really gooey and scrumptious. Bring on the Magic Bars. These are decadent. If you have any kind of heart condition at all, I wouldn’t recommend them.

Actually, I cut back a lot of the richness from the original recipe, making it even better. And I’ll include the recipe at the end of this post, because you will want it. But they are still intensely rich.

Making Magic Bars is merely adding to the many aspects of life that are intense right now. Last weekend, my family held a Zoom birthday party for my sister Amiel’s 50th. Prior to the event, we were asked to share a talent. When we started the session, Amiel, who’s up in Vermont, couldn’t get on. Her computer kept failing, so the rest of us - from North Carolina, Florida, Illinois, Massachusetts, Maryland - started chatting. Right off, my sister-in-law, who organized the session told us that we had unlimited time. “That means we can spend hours together,” I said. We all laughed, pretending that the prospect of spending that much time in each other’s company would be awful. It wouldn’t. But, you know, family. We continued waiting for Amiel, while briefly catching up with each other’s lives. I was happy my own boys joined the session, on their own computers in their bedrooms. My niece thought my other sister-in-law was in the desert. Nope - just a Zoom background. “I knew that,” she said. More laughing. Her daughter, she told us, fell into the water on a recent hike. “Not my best parenting moment,” she admitted. “But not my worst, either.” My brother asked if she’d tell us her worst.

The back-and-forth banter and humor kept up and finally Amiel got on Zoom with her phone, we sang to her, and then the party was in full swing. One niece did a trivia game with questions all about Amiel: name all her dietary restrictions, the number of states she’s lived in, her middle name, how many months she travelled overseas. “My family knows me!” she exclaimed. Songs were sung for her. Poems were read. Instruments played. Knitting and painting gifts for her were shared. My oldest brother, Blake, and his wife, Lyn, read the prologue to Homer’s The Odyssey - a perfect metaphor for her life - as well as part of it in Greek. Both he and Amiel studied ancient Greek, a link to their lives. My husband leveled out the playing field and brought it culturally down a few notches by sharing his talent - standing on his head. No Greek involved. I borrowed Blake’s original idea and said that I wanted to read aloud the poem that our father wrote for her when she was six years old. I went to our bookshelf and got his book of poetry, read the title - “Amiel,” and burst into tears. “I can’t read this,” I said. Billy took over and read it for me, but even he got choked up mid-way through. “Happy birthday, from Daddy,” I said to her, smiling, at the end of the poem. Later, Amiel thanked me for my vulnerability.

The session was recorded and I didn’t think I would go back to watch it. I’d already experienced it and it was great. But last night, before going to bed, I clicked on the recording. And I couldn’t stop watching. I wanted to see everyone’s faces. I wanted to hear the laughter, see the tears. I wanted to see Amiel and watch again how well she received that love. The session lasted about an hour and a half and I was up past midnight watching about half of it. I went to bed thinking about how much our family appreciates each other’s humor. How we know how to laugh. How we know how to cry. And especially how we know how to love. Our oldest sister died in March, and we felt her absence. But what was present was way she helped show us how to love each other.

So today I give you Magic Bars, in gratitude for the way in which my family knows how to express emotion, and that the intense love still reaches us all in such unlikely ways, traveling through the atmosphere, and lands inside our very own homes, as if by magic.

Amiel By Ronald Arthur Landor

I think in color when I think your name. It goes with dancing, laughter, friendship, light; associates with fearless taking aim at life, and when you come to kiss Good Night. I wrote your name again and yet again, a lyric heard before I saw your birth. I called you forth in poetry and then your first cry sounded music in the earth. Made for this world, a neighbor said of you: You do not simply ask, but you demand! Yet in you shines another world more true: a world of love, the only Holy Land. A One Girl Seven Wonders of the World: and you my daughter, six years old – my child!

And here’s what you’ve been waiting patiently for: the recipe for Magic Bars.

In a food processor, grind one package of Graham Crackers. Melt six tablespoons of butter and mix with the crackers. Press into a buttered 9x13″ glass dish. Pour one can of sweetened condensed milk on top of crumb mixture. Spread into all corners. Scatter on top: one cup of semi-sweet chocolate chips, one cup of shredded coconut (I use unsweetened from Trader Joe’s), and one cup of toasted and chopped pecans. Press mixture down gently all over with the tines of a fork. Bake at 325 degrees for 25 minutes. Cool on a rack then cut into squares. Eat while feeling gratitude, for family.

#magic bars #reginacooks

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woildismyerster · 7 years ago

Note

Hey if you still want to write something with that “I love you” thing, number 5 (during an impromptu dance party) would be adorable with Race in my opinion! Also P.S.: I love your blog like a lot❤️

5. Blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, as clumsy as your two left feet. When time seems to freeze, hastily tack on “in that shirt” or “when you make your award winning meatballs” or, if you are feeling particularly brave, “when we do this.” Resume your dancing and pretend you don’t feel her eyes on you for the rest of the night.

Thank you so much for the request! I was so stoked to write this. You have great taste in prompts, my dude. P.S.: I love your blog too!

It wasn’t that Race had a lot of relationship rules for the two of you. Why make rules when everything was already wonderful? There did not need to be a set date night, since neither of you could get enough of the other. No rules about who you could or could not talk to, or how much touching was allowed in public. It was a relationship that was largely led by what felt right, and Race felt awfully right when you were around.

There was one set of rules, though, that was set in stone. There was a certain list of songs, subject to additions but no subtractions, that the two of you were required to dance to. It did not matter where you were, what you were doing, or who you were with. The first few notes would play, his eyes would fly to yours, and you would drop everything to dance to it. “Come on Eileen” comes on in the grocery store? Ditch the cart and get to an area open enough to fit your fully choreographed dance routine. “Walking on Sunshine” starts playing at a family reunion? Hopefully you weren’t talking to anybody important, because that conversation is coming to a swift end.

The rules were not linked to the fact that the two of you were dating. They had come long before, back when having a crush made everything feel important and competitive. At first, they only mattered at parties. If “your song” came on, wasn’t it a moral obligation to dance together?

Eventually, you didn’t have one song with Race. It was a half dozen, maybe more. Then it wasn’t just at parties, when the lights were low and everybody was too drunk to question it. It was anywhere, as long as it meant that Race got to watch you smile and see the way you focused on moving just the way you wanted to. When he started dating you, it just solidified them.

Race loved dancing with you. Really, he supposed, he loved you. He loved you in every way he could think of; every way he thought you would allow, but it was only when he danced with you that he had trouble keeping himself from saying it.

Was three months of dating enough time? He knew he felt it, but did you? Would you say it back, or panic, or think he was joking? Not worth the risk.

There had been a day, a few weeks before finals when you guys had just started college, when he had been horrified by the telltale beginning of “Gasolina.” You had just had your first fight. It wasn’t really anybody’s fault - just some miscommunication or another, with both of you too proud to admit that it was stupid so you could move on. The fight should have ended so fast, so early, but you were both too proud to back down. As a result, you were tense and uncertain together, too quiet and too sharp.

The song began out on the quad, on one of those perfect days. Race had heard you call it an “Indian Summer” day. It seemed like the entire university had congregated outside, hoping to make the most of one of the last warm days before a seemingly eternal winter. Race’s eyes shot to yours, instinct winning out over pride.

You had looked back, and after a second of uncertainty, Race moved away from the rest of the guys. You mirrored him, finding a strip of empty grass, before the regular dancing could begin.

Race wanted to make you laugh. He wanted to be over the top, or ridiculously bad, or anything that would break that uncertain stoniness on your face.

Slowly, too slowly, you warmed up. The first time he tried the Sprinkler, you hardly looked at him. By the time he was resorting to the Lawnmower or the Shopping Cart, you had loosened up enough to give a snort of laughter. When he reached to twirl you, he made sure to spin you straight into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into your ear.

You stepped back and offered him a careless grin. “Sorry for what?” When you kept dancing, the relief that swept over him was overwhelming. Truly, his legs went a little wobbly, a little weak, at the thought that you would join him in the caf for breakfast the next morning, like always.

“I love you,” he blurted. The relief shifted to horror when you faltered, looking at him again. Before you had a chance to respond, he grabbed your hips and drew you close to him. “-r sweet moves. I love them. Super classy, babe.”

You laughed, squirming a little. “They’re classier when you aren’t trying to grind on me.”

You never mentioned the exchange afterwards, so Race figured he was in the clear. No worries. He loved you, but you didn’t know it yet. Good.

The Cupid Shuffle, while not on the unofficial list of dances that the two of you had to do, was definitely a tune that Race always got down for. It was, like, illegal not to dance to it. So, at Jack and Katherine’s wedding, Race ended up next to you for the song.

During the portion of the song where you were directly behind him, you leaned over to whisper into his ear. “I dare you to do the rest of the song like the Cha Cha Slide.”

“Absolutely not,” Race said, horror and delight intermingling “No, no, no.”

“I dare you,” you crooned, bopping your way 90 degrees away from him. “Are you a chicken?”

He groaned, his amusement slowly winning out over the clear and present danger. “I’m no chicken, doll.” He stopped dancing, ignoring the surprised looks from the people around him, and started clapping.

You were cackling while you danced. You almost doubled over when his dancing would interfere with somebody else’s, and Race thought for a while that you might genuinely be in danger of wetting yourself. He would have cared more if he hadn’t been trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks. Jack would never let him live this down.

When the Cupid Shuffle ended, you grabbed him hand and dragged him away. Mirth danced in your eyes, or maybe that was just the happy tears. “You have cha-cha-d your way right into my good graces,” you said. Giggles still mixed with your words, and he thought that your cheeks must ache with the size of your smile.

He leaned in and pressed a swift kiss against your lips. Another. Another. “I love you,” he said.

You tried to stifle your laughter, but it had turned into a vicious cycle. Each spurt of laughter powered the next one, and you couldn’t stop. You opened your mouth to speak, maybe to say it back, but Race chickened out. Again.

“-when you do evil things,” he finished lamely. “You’re diabolical, honey.” He kissed you again, effectively swallowing anything you might have wanted to say to him, and he mentally kicked himself. He may have been ballsy enough to do the wrong dance, but he really was too much of a chicken to follow through. Soon enough, thankfully, he was too swept up by your lips and your smell and your hands to worry about what he should have done.

The Shrek soundtrack was the God of music. The Forrest Gump of movies. The pizza of food. It was indisputably prime, so when “Accidentally in Love” came on while you were cooking in your apartment, Race was swift to sweep you up into his arms.

“This song isn’t a slow dance,” you said, but you settled into him easily enough. You wound your arms around his neck and settled your face against his shoulder.

“Every song is a slow dance, if you try hard enough.” Race held you close against him, not caring about food that could burn or any mess you could be getting onto him.

“Even ‘Gasolina?’”

“Any song,” he repeated. “You just have to try harder.”

You hummed a little, half in response to him and half to go along with the song.

Race took a deep breath, heart settling in his chest. It was steady, if a little heavy. You were still humming a little, the vibrations rumbling through him too. “I love you,” he said softly. There was a split second where he thought about correcting himself, but it wasn’t anything serious. Last second nerves, but not second thoughts. “I love you when we do this.”

He felt you smile against him, but he quickly swept you away into a different conversation. Race desperately wanted to hear you say it back, but he didn’t want to spoil the evening if you didn’t. This was perfect. This was what he wanted. So he talked about the awful haircut Albert got, how wonderful the new Panic! at the Disco song was, and about how it should be illegal to put coconut in chocolate. In anything, really.

You did not tell Race that you loved him too, not then. The moment had passed. But he felt your eyes on him, warm and hopeful, and he knew that another moment would come soon enough. They always did.

#racetrack higgins #race higgins #racetrack higgins x reader #race/reader #racetrack higgins/reader #Newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies x reader #ally writes

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shepgarrus · 6 years ago

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A Tag Meme

tagged by @onelassieandherfandoms , thank friend :D

Rules: tag 15 but haha, no.

let’s go with some activity page people again <3 @misseffect @wiktoriagore @wntersoldicrs @evilweasel24 @v27 @zaeedmassanis @thealexmachina @femvulcan there i did half of 15 that’s solid, feel free to take a slot from the remaining 7 if you want to do this but didn’t get tagged!

Relationship status: single eyyyy

Favorite Colours: purple and deep bright reds AND I FOUND THE PICTURE WITH THE GREENISH COLOR I LIKE (the greens on the handle)

Lipstick or Chapstick: chapstick and oh man last week my mom f i n a l l y ordered more of the type i like after we’ve been out for like half a year because we can’t get it in stores and i’ve been waiting since the winter and i can’t wait to not have constantly peeling lips (vaseline does n o t h i n g when your lips are already fucked psa and coconut oil isn’t enough to save me)

3 favorite foods: haha oh boy umm. well the pork rib chop i had today was super fatty and it was absolute hEAVEN so can i just say pork fat in general or pork with an asterisk that it be a good fatty cut. then i recently found out that boiled potatoes are god tier food for me. AND UMMMMMMMMMM god this is hard. idk what my legit third one is rn but lately veggies stirfries cooked with coconut oil and bacon fat and half-drowned in butter have hit the spot so good

Song stuck in my head: newest song my favorite singer blessed us with (there are english subs) (and a dance choreo video if that’s more your speed) but it’s not ‘stuck’ in my head in the normal sense i just keep saying lines from it

Last song I listened to: wELL when i saw this on my tablet it had been this song (it also has captions) but then when i got on my computer i put this on having forgotten about this question so i’m just outing myself more now lmao

Last movie I watched: haha fuck uhhhhhhhhh. i have no clue so i’m going to gUESS one of the hobbit movies but i honestly can’t remember and the only reason i’m pretty sure it wasn’t a potc movie is that i still have a potc au post languishing in my drafts waiting for me to rewatch them

Top 3 TV shows: merlin, RTD-era doctor who, first two seasons of orphan black

Book I’m currently reading: i’m not reading anything and i. can’t remember the last book i read for sure, there’s like three possibilities lmao. fic-wise i’ve been too depressed to do my normal amount of shakarian reading but i have Gaps and Place Holders open to reread now that’s it’s complete to see if i want to add it to my fic rec spreadsheet

Last thing I googled: ‘ao3 well. fuck shakarian’ because it was relevant to a conversation i was having with @misseffect (lmao and then ‘of gaps and placeholders ao3 mass effect’ just now to try and find the link but i ended up having to get it off my tablet)

Time: 10:01pm when i first answered this question but now 11:19 as i’m about to post it

How many blankets do you sleep in: 1-3 depending on how fucked and extreme the temperature is

Dream trip: dude the best i have is still ‘mountains’ and as of last night watching some netflix absolutely nothing on the islands that have komodo dragons

Anything you really want: i’d love my cognitive functions/ability to write back and maybe some kind of life goal so i can actually fucking do something. but for realistic things look at what i found last night SEA PANCAKE EARRINGS but as per usual they follow the rule of thumb for canada and online shopping: The Shipping Costs As Much As The Thing, Because The Shit Conversion Rate Just Isn’t Enough Reason To Never Buy Anything Ever

#max talks #the closest color name i've found to that green is 'verdigris' but that's not dark enough #but i have a necklace with those colors and it's my fave #fourth tag//////#fifth tag///////////#tag meme

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dprwolfgang · 7 years ago

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Reflection: Kim Namjoon

Chapter One

I got to the studio before everyone else.It would be awhile before any of the other girls showed up so for now I'd enjoy the solitude of the dance hall.My black and white vans squeaked against the floor as I put my bag down in a corner along with my audience of one.A little Siberian husky named Mochi who had one ice blue eye and one brown one.

He was mine but I hadn't seen him in awhile as he was with my grandpa.I must say he's my biggest fan.

I didn't have class today so I'd have enough time to meet up with my grandpa before he headed back to Busan and then the States.My now straight rose gold hair in a high ponytail went well with my white shirt that covered my black bralette underneath and the black jeggings I decided to wear.Linking my phone with the speakers I put my playlist on shuffle and warmed up before I got into it.

The song that played was one I was comfortable with.One that I knew like the back of my hands. I got into position as the beat for You Should Be Here by Kehlani flowed and took my body with it.Mochi sat in the corner with his head slanted as he watched me hit every step of the choreography.

youtube

As the song switched and the beat for Kriss Kross by Chris Brown dropped I undo the buttons on my shirt and got into it.

youtube

It wasn't hard for me to get lost into what I was doing as I didn't even hear the girls come in or that they had joined in. We didn't need to be here but it had become a habit over the past few years that we simply didn't know what to do when we had free time.Time flew and before I knew it i was almost late for meeting my grandpa.Disconnecting my phone I placed it in my bag.I didn't have time for a shower so I wiped off my sweat with the towel from my bag,swapped my shirt for a clean one and spritzed myself with the coconut-vanilla body spray in my bag before picking up Mochi and my bag and running out of the dance studio.

I bumped into more than one body lingering outside the door but I didn't have time to stop to apologize.My grandfather didn't have the best relationship with patience and hated being kept waiting.Sometimes I wondered how my grandmother  put up with his fiery persona but I guess in many ways they even each other out.Rest her soul.

"Grandpa." I bowed as I approached my grandpa. Thankfully he had chosen Caffebene which wasn't too far away and that they allowed pets.

"How are you?" My grandpa asked as I sat down.

"I'm fine and you?"

"I'm fine." I nodded at him just waiting until he began to bombard me with questions.

"How's school?..Are you taking your medicine?..have you been eating?" My grandfather rushed out.

"Yes I've been eating and school is fine I got all A's on my midterm." I replied avoiding his other question.

"And your medicine?"

"You want me to lie or you want the truth?" I questioned before sipping on my water.

"Of course I want the truth why would I want you to lie?"

"I haven't taken them in months and before you start with the speech,you know how they make me feel. I'm better off without them plus the doctor said I could stop taking them when I felt like it.If I was supposed to remember something from then to now I would have already don't you think so?"

Grandfather opened his mouth to object but closed it back."If you say you're fine without them then I have to trust your judgment.Now can we order I'm starving." He laughed lightly waving the waiter over.

Lunch went great and before I knew it I was making my way back to the dorm with Mochi.Mika and Alex were on the couch watching Tokyo Ghoul while Elle was burning something in the kitchen.I swear that girl never listens when we tell her stay out of the kitchen.Give her a chance she'll burn water.

I had no idea where Minji our leader was but I didn't let it bother me.She'd appear when she felt like it.

Making my way upstairs I headed to my room. Our dorm wasn't big but it was comfortable for us.After beating the girls in a hot wing contest I ended up with my own room while the other girls shared.

It wasn't the biggest room but with the high ceilings and the help of my grandfather I was able to turn it into my own space.The loft space for my bed had been turned into a room Studio and quiet spot.

Kicking off my sneakers I put Mochi on his dog bed and hopped into my bed only to roll straight back off grabbing a pillow and whacking the lump in my bed with it. The lump groaned and moved around but I didn't stop whacking it."Yah! Pabo stop.I'm trying to sleep."

"Who are you and why the hell are you in my bed?" I whacked it again before turning on the light. The lump moved about and I stood at a safe distance as it removed the blanket to reveal its head.Not waiting to see who it was I threw the pillow at it just as it turned to me.

"Why the hell are you abusing me woman?" A now clear familiar voice spoke.

"Min Yoongi what the hell are you doing in my bed?"

"Sleeping..what did it look like?" He replied giving me a 'duh' look.Rolling my eyes at the lazy man before me I settled on the edge of my bed.

"what are you doing here anyways?" I asked him.

"I came to tell you that movie nights at our place on Friday and that I need the vocals I asked you for so I can finish mixing the track for you." He simply shrugged getting of my bed and heading to my workspace and removing his flash-drive from my computer.Couldn't he just text me though?

However out of everything he'd said the only part I caught was about movie night.As best friends we had movie nights every weekend once we were free and it was usually just us or the girls if they were up to it.It's not that I didn't get along well with the rest of Bangtan it's just that I felt as though they're walking on eggshells around me all the time because of my memory loss but it's been three months since we've been back in Korea and Yoongi's the only one who doesn't treat me differently.

I remember things now and then but it's always in pieces or blurry and to be honest it gives me a headache at times but I can't help it. I just wish people would stop treating me like I'm fragile.So far Jungkook and Hoseok are the only ones who don't treat me differently and it was only after Yoongi spoke to them about it.

"Why can't it be here though?" I questioned as he eyed the new equipment I'd gotten recently.

"Because I made a promise I don't plan on breaking so you're going to have to push that fear of not being good enough to hang out at our place or with us aside. I'm starting to think I'm the only person you talk to outside of work other than your grandfather and I mean come on we both know that all I do is music and sleep,you need friends other than me starting with the ones you've already got but can't remember properly.So you better be there Friday night or else I'm taking that extra large Kumamon." He simply shrugged before exiting the room before sticking his head back in."Jin says come with an empty stomach and Hobi says to send him the link..whatever that means." With that he was on his way again closing my door behind him.

Our group had some free time before we made a comeback but BTS had theirs right around the corner and before we knew it they'd be busy with preparations so maybe Suga was right. I needed friends..starting tomorrow or something.Settling in my bed after taking off the light I let sleep consume me.

Minji stared at the wall of her empty apartment.No one knew she had it except her mother and that's how she planned on keeping it.It was her safe haven of some sort as she believed living with four girls was a bit tiring at times.

As the leader of Myx she just needed a break.She had thought that once she got back to Korea maybe things would change and she'd finally get what she wanted but that wasn't the case.She didn't know what to do or say anymore to keep him interested and it was as though she was losing her mind.

Maybe if things had went differently that night she wouldn't have done what she did but she was hurt and did what she thought was right even if the outcome wasn't what she expected.

"You lied to me!" She could still hear his voice echoing even though it had been months ago.Deciding to head back to the dorms she arrived just as Suga was leaving.Looking at the short pale man she scoffed as they walked pass each other.They never got along even during their trainee days.At first she thought it was because maybe he liked her and was angry she didn't like him back but she soon found out why he was the way he was with her but Minji didn't care and she still doesn't.

She walked straight pass the girls in the living room and headed to the bedroom she shared with Alex locking the door behind her.Pulling open her closet door she sat on the floor sliding one specific tile out of place and reaching for the items that was hidden in the hole she had created.

She stared at the contents and smiled.'Sooner or later I'm going to get what I want and no ones going to stop me!' Minji thought to herself.

#thewritersnetwork #kim namjoon #reflection namjoon #namjoon #bts scenarios #bts rm #RM #bantansonyeondan #bantang boys #god of destruction

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pengychan · 7 years ago

Text

Te Rerenga Wairua - Ch. 18

Title: Te Rerenga Wairua Summary: Found by the gods drifting at sea, Maui always assumed he had been thrown in it to drown. When that assumption is challenged, there is only one way to find closure: speaking to his long-departed family. But it’s never a smooth sail to the Underworld, and he’ll need help from a friend - plus a token that fell in the claws of an old enemy long ago. Characters: Maui, Moana, Tamatoa Rating: K Prologue and links to all chapters up so far here.

A/N: Well, this chapter got long. But I couldn’t find a good place to split it, so here’s the whole thing - I guess it makes up for the epilogue, since it will be rather short!

***

Taranga had known something was wrong from the very start, when the pain had struck - sudden, agonizing, and all too soon.

She’d brought five children into the world already, four sons and a daughter, and she had come to known the pain of the delivery all too well. But her children had been healthy, all of them born at the ninth month. This time, the pain had come at the beginning of the seventh. It was far too early; from the instant the midwife had come into her home, after her children were ushered outside to play before they could realize anything was wrong, her grim expression had told her as much.

“My baby,” she’d managed to plead, but the woman had shaken her head.

“You have five little ones already, and you can have others. It is you I need to save,” she had said, and save her she did. The pain had ended, but she’d hardly taken notice. All she could do was staring a at the unmoving child, listen to the deafening silence that was never broken by a single wail. The midwife had tried to revive him, but of course it had been for naught. You cannot revive a stillborn. Only the gods can, and the gods were not answering to her prayers.

“Don’t take him away,” was all Taranga said after a long time, causing the woman to pause.

“He should be buried, dear.”

“I’ll do it by my own hand. I need some time with him. Please.”

She nodded, and placed down the child. She’d cleaned him, wrapped in a blanket. It had been the baby blanket of all of Taranga’s children, from Mua down to Roto, and now it was a shroud. The thought should have pained her, but instead it left her cold, as though she was someplace beyond pain. Even physically, she hardly felt any; nothing compared to previous childbirths, because the baby she’d delivered was so much tinier.

“I’ll have someone look after your children for a while longer. Do you wish us to tell them…?”

“Please,” Taranga said, closing her eyes. She didn’t think she would be able to hold it together if she had to tell the children that the baby brother - or sister, Hina always said pointedly to her brothers’ amusement - they’d all be waiting for had arrived too early, and was now gone before his time even started. Taha would probably try to keep a stiff upper lip, the little warrior, but Pae would certainly burst crying, and before long they all would be sobbing. She couldn’t bear to listen to their crying now: it would only remind her of the wails she should have heard that day, and never would.

I’ll have to tell Ira-Whaki, when he returns.

Thinking of her husband was even worse. Big, strong and a boy at heart, he’d been even more delighted than any of his children to know he was to be a father again. He’d laughed, gifted her a golden hairpin he’d fashioned with his own hands, and left for a voyage with a smile as wide as the horizon, promising he would be back on time to welcome his newest child into the world.

But that child had arrived too early, and his father would return too late.

We didn’t even get to give him a name.

Somehow, it was that thought that got her to finally sit up, and take the still body of her child in her arms. For a moment she stared down at him, hoping against hope to see him moving, to hear him sucking in a breath and wail, but of course none of it happened. Her youngest son never breathed, and he would never have a name. There would be no point to it now; what good is a name if no one ever calls you by it?

Voices outside her home snapped her from her thoughts, causing her to look up. She could hear the voices of children and, higher than them all, Hina’s protests that she hadn’t lost her bracelet of glass beads at the beach, that someone must have stolen it. She was still unaware that she had lost more than a bracelet that day, but soon she and her brothers would be told, and Taranga didn’t want to be there when it happened: she wouldn’t be able to give them any comfort. Not before she got a chance to mourn, not before her child was buried at sea as it was custom, so that his soul could find its way to the Underworld. Then, perhaps, she could be there for her living children without shattering.

So Taranga stood, kissed her stillborn son once, and went alone to do what had to be done. It would be only much later, while running a hand through what remained of her hair, that she’d realize she had forgotten the golden hairpin her husband had gifted her in the sand. She found she couldn’t bring herself to care; it was but a reminder of the child she had lost, and she had no use for it.

For the rest of her life - which would be long and overall happy, with five children to watch grow into adulthood and more grandchildren than she could look after on her own - she’d keep her hair shorn. And, for much of her existence after death, she would look for her lost boy across the Underworld.

She never found him, but never truly stopped trying.

***

“Look at the claws! Hey, can you uproot trees with these?”

“What kind of question is that? Sure I can. Several at once.”

“This is sooo cool!”

“Of course it is. Everything about me is– hey! Keep your hands out of my eye, will you? And quit yanking my antennae! Have human kids always been this nosy?”

“Is this real gold?”

“When did you climb– well, of course it is! No cheap knockoffs on my shell. Wait, are you trying to bite it? What’s wrong with you, kid?”

“Just checking it’s real gold!”

“I told you it is. Keep your teeth off my stuff!”

“Oh! Oh! I have a question! Why are you so big?”

“I eat a lot.”

“A lot of what?”

“Curious human kids with curly hair and a missing front tooth.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Me neither!”

“You’re totally bluffing!”

“Moana said you wouldn’t raise a pincer on us!”

“Oh, did she? Great. There goes my reputation.”

“What reputation? I never heard of you before. Only of Maui.”

“… Don’t push your luck, kid. There’s a lot of stuff you never heard– what have you got there?”

“A pearl! I found it this morning! Do you want it?”

“What?”

“Moana said you like these things.”

“… What’s the catch?”

“Huh?”

“What, you’re just giving it out for free like– oh! Oh. That’s a present, right? Of course it is. Who wouldn’t want to give me presents?”

“Do you like it?”

“Well, it’s not a bad find for a beginner. Give it here.”

“Can put it up on your shell?”

“If you insist–”

“Hey! You’re missing a leg! Why are you missing a leg?”

“A megalodon ate it.”

“Cool!”

“I didn’t think it was cool at a–”

“How did that go?”

“How big is a megalodon?”

“Is it bigger than a wale?”

“Is it bigger than you?”

“Is it bigger or smaller than–”

The rest of the sentence was covered by Maui’s chuckle. “Well, who’d have guessed? They hit it off right away,” he muttered before taking another bite out of the coconut. He seemed to have absolutely no trouble chewing the entire thing, shell and all, which had fascinated all the children in the village the first time they’d met - but now their attention was entirely taken by the talking, giant crab monster currently sprawled on the sand. Maui didn’t seem to mind at all, and was observing the scene from some distance away. “Then again, he’s got their undivided attention. Of course he loves that.”

Moana supposed that the introduction had gone as well as they could have possibly hoped. A couple of people had dropped unconscious when he’d first come out of the water, but that had been about it. Her people had trusted her word enough not to panic and Tamatoa, to be fair, had done his best to look as nonthreatening as possible by immediately resting down on the sand. He still towered over everyone, obviously enough, but she supposed it was the thought that counted.

The kids were not supposed to be part of the picture at all, and their parents had all told them to stay behind in the village, but of course that had stopped precisely none of them. That had caused some concern from the adults when they’d suddenly appeared to check out the novelty - more than a few were still eyeing Tamatoa’s claws worriedly - but, overall, they seemed to be coming to terms with his presence quickly enough. Not quite as quickly as their children, but still pretty fast all things considered.

“It went pretty well,” Moana conceded, with no small amount of relief.

Beside her, her mother frowned slightly. “What does he eat?” she asked, causing Maui to shrug.

“Fish, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Oh, and a bit of this and a bit of that. He’s kind of a scavenger, not really picky. No need to worry about that - he’s pretty good at catching his own food.”

Tui gave a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. We usually offer food to any guests, but… well,” he said, gesturing towards Tamatoa. “He probably eats more than all of us.”

Moana shrugged. “Don’t worry about that. If you want to get him anything, just pick something shiny. You can’t go wrong with–”

“All right, all right, just be quiet a moment!” Tamatoa’s voice cut her off. “If you shut up I’ll tell you just what happened - in song form!”

Oh. Oh no.

“Nope. I’m not listening to this one,” Maui declared, and stood, reaching for his hook. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been great to see you all again, but Moana and I have some sudden, urgent business on the other side of the island. Be back later. Enjoy the show for us, okay? And even if you don’t, for Tagaloa’s sake, tell him you loved it.”

“Wha–” Moana’s father began, but he had no time to say anything more before Maui shifted into his hawk form, grabbed Moana, and flew off quick as lighting.

As much as she disliked flying, Moana had absolutely no complaints this time.

***

“Do you think it’s safe to go back? He can’t be still singing, can he?”

“He could very well be, and you know it. By the way, are you ever gonna stop following us?”

Stretched out in the low waters, the setting sun making his scales look an even deeper red than usual, Pilifeai shrugged. “Well, I don’t have much else to do. Lalotai gets rather dull after a thousand years or two.”

“So what, you just decided you’re going to hang around? Last time you decided to bother humans–”

With a sigh, the giant lizard rolled on his back. He seemed to be enjoying the last rays of sun immensely. “Yes, yes. They had their ancestors chase me all the way back to Lalotai because I apparently wasn’t such a great neighbour.”

Maui raised an eyebrow. “Apparently?” he repeated. “You ate all of the fish and refused to scram when asked to.”

“Oh, was I asked to leave now? And here I thought they tried to skewer me with pathetic little spears. And it’s not like the fish in the sea belonged to them,” Pilifeai pointed out, but sighed at Maui’s glare. “I know, I know. I won’t cause problems this time around. I’m not looking forward to get my tail kicked by the dead again. Or a demigod with a horrible temper, or a human who happens to be able to shrink me at will, or a giant idiot crab who apparently decided the tiny humans are his pets from now on.”

Moana let out a small laugh, finally sitting up on the sand. “It looks more like they decided he’s their giant pet from now on.”

“To anybody but the idiot crab, yes. Let him keep the delusion.”

“Fair enough,” Maui said, only to frown when a cloud suddenly passed in front of the setting sun. It was beautiful to see - the cloud itself looked like it was aflame, the shades of orange starting to give in to the growing darkness of the evening - but it was a reminder than they’d been there for several hours. He sighed, and stood. “Well, maybe it’s time to get back. He’ll have probably stopped singing by now. Should we take the risk?”

Moana nodded and opened her mouth to agree, but words died in her throat the moment the her gaze fell on the sea. Without the rays of the sun making its surface shimmer, the ocean looked darker - and thus it was easy to spot something moving towards the shore, something that shone of an otherworldly light, leaving a trail in its wake. Moana knew what it was, because she’d seen it before, and she knew why it was there.

“Moana? Hello? I said, should we take the ri–” Maui began, only to trail off with a yelp when Moana wordlessly grabbed him by the ear and made him turn towards the ocean. “Ow! What was that abo–” he began, but then he turned his gaze to the sea, and his voice faded into silence. “Ah,” he finally said, and Moana let go of him. He stood straight, rubbing his ear and saying nothing more: he just watched along with her as the shimmering form reached the shore, until something that looked like fine mist rose from the waves and then took on a different shape - until a woman stood on the sand some distance away, like Gramma Tala had once stood on Moana’s boat. She turned to look at them, her expression impossible to see from that far away, and Maui’s fishhook fell from his slackened grip.

“Well,” Moana said, her voice very quiet, “I’ll leave the two of you alone.”

Maui didn’t reply, but she hadn’t really expected him to. She just watched him begin to walk up to the woman - very slowly, so much unlike his usual strides - and then turned to Pilifeai, who was squinting at the woman as though trying his best to see her face.

“I hope you’re not even thinking of eavesdropping this one.”

“Well, after coming this far–”

“Iti haere.”

“Wha– Oh, you are a pain, you know?” Pilifeai grumbled. Moana shrugged, picking him up and settling him down on her shoulder.

“You’re staying like this tonight,” she informed, turning away and starting what was going to be a fairly long walk back to the fledgling village. If Maui’s mother had come now it was likely Tamatoa’s would as well soon, and she wasn’t going to let Pilifeai intrude into that one, either. “Behave and I might turn you back your full size in the morning.”

“You know I can swim like this too, right? What keeps me from going the moment you turn–”

“And risk becoming some big fish’s dinner? Or a bird’s? I am pretty sure I have seen hawks around here,” Moana pointed out, causing Pilifeai to fall silent for a few moments as he tried to think of a retort. He clearly couldn’t think of anything, and he finally sighed.

“I loathe you.”

“No, you don’t. Just stick with me tonight, and you’ll be safe.”

“How about I bite off one of your ears?”

“Go ahead. I heard that roasted lizard is delicious.”

Pilifeai sighed, and settled down across her shoulders. “Ah well. It was worth a try,” he muttered. Moana chuckled and, before going around a bend, she turned to give just one glance back.

“Aww, look at that. They’re hugging,” Pilifeai said, and Moana smiled. There was lump in her throat and her vision was getting a bit blurry, but it didn’t feel bad at all.

“Well. That started out pretty well,” she said, and had to reach out to wipe her eyes before she turned back and resumed walking. “That hug was a long time coming.”

Pilifeai sniffled.

“… Sand in your eyes?” Moana guessed, but she had to wipe her own eyes again even as she grinned, causing the lizard to snort out a laugh.

“And in yours as well. I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

***

Maui had prepared a short speech for that moment.

Well, maybe not quite a speech, but he’d definitely been thinking up scenarios, and had had a few words in mind to tell his mother, when they were finally face to face. He had rehearsed them in his mind, over and over.

Except that now he didn’t remember a single word. It was hard to remember much of anything with his brain seemingly frozen, unable to process anything but the woman only a few steps from him. To be completely fair, he wasn’t the only one: she was doing exactly the same, just staring at him with wide eyes and not saying a single word. There was a light breeze, but it didn’t seem to touch her, her translucent clothes not moving with it. Somewhere by them the ocean waves still rolled, but they sounded so far away.

Without thinking, Maui brought a hand up to his hair and took the hairpin. He held it out on his palm, so that she could see it - it is me, you see, it’s really me - and her gaze paused on it for a few moments before looking back up at his face. Her eyes moved across his features, as though she was trying to find anything she’d recognize, but how could she? Last time she’d seen him, he’d been a baby… and not entirely formed to boot.

I don’t look like her.

The thought stung, just a little. There really was no resemblance he could see, aside from maybe something about the eye shape. She was taller than most women he’d met, but her frame was so slim it was hard to believe she’d carried him at any point in life, baby or not, and her features were a lot less marked than his own. Maui’s eyes moved from her face to her hair, which was short, uncannily so. Had they never grown back after she cut it to mourn him? No, that was ridiculous, growing was what hair did. Had she kept it short by choice? Had it been because of him, for him? Had she–

“This is where I came to lay you to rest.”

Her voice was quiet, as though coming from a mile away. Maui recoiled, and realized only then that she had turned her gaze to the rolling waves. She stared at them for a few more moments, as though seeing something he could not, and Maui finally found his voice.

“… It is?” he asked, looking around as though hoping to see a village that must have stood near that spot, a long time ago. It was odd to think that, some five thousand years earlier, his motionless body had been brought on those shores to be left to the sea, with Tamatoa watching on, still small enough to go unnoticed. Had he not stolen the hairpin that day, had Maui never met him, he would have never known the truth… and neither would his mother.

“Yes. Or at least, I thought I was laying you to rest. I thought I would never see you again. And then, when the end of my life neared, I thought I finally would. But you weren’t there,” she spoke again, a shaky quality to her voice that made Maui turn back to her. There were tears in her eyes, translucent as the rest of her was, but she was beginning to smile. “But here you are again. Here of all places. All grown up, a demigod, and… oh gods, you look so much like your father!”

Looking back, the statement shouldn’t have surprised him that much; most kids resemble at least one of their parents. But it was unexpected enough for Maui to be taken aback, and so was what she did next - she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck.

“I looked for you for so long,” she choked out, and Maui held her back without thinking. It didn’t feel like holding onto someone of flesh and blood, but she wasn’t incorporeal either, and it was a lot more than what he’d thought he could have. For most of his life, he’d tried his best to keep himself from even wondering what a mother’s embrace would feel like.

“I’m sorry,” Maui heard himself saying. His own voice sounded alien to him, hoarse, and there was no blaming sand in his eyes for that. “I didn’t know– I just assumed you had… since I was left at sea…”

Taranga’s arms tightened their grip, her face resting against his shoulder. “Never, I could have never. We were so eager to welcome you. You were so wanted.”

Something in Maui’s chest, a weight that had always been there - no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, no matter the lessons learned and the knowledge that he was worthy, whether or not those who had brought him into the world could see it - melted away, the familiar ache turning into something else he couldn’t quite define. How do you even begin to call the absence of an ache that used to be such a fundamental part of you, the very core of everything he’d ever tried to be? Maui didn’t know. And at the moment, he found that he really didn’t care.

You were so wanted.

“I know it now,” he found himself saying. “A crab told me. The one who stole your hairpin.”

The sound that left her could have been a sob, or a laugh, or both. She finally pulled back - it took Maui some effort to force himself to let go - and reached to take his face in her hands. “You’ll have to tell me all that happened, because the Manaia’s explanation was quite confusing,” she said, and smiled again, thumbs brushing over Maui’s cheeks. He leaned into the touch without thinking. “Along with everything else you’ve been up to. I’d heard of you, can you believed it?” she added, and laughed. It sounded much deeper than he’d have expected from someone so slim. “So many people coming to the Underworld talking about this great hero, this Maui, and it was you. My little littlest boy, not so little anymore.”

Maui gave a somewhat sheepish grin. “Well, hope you have some spare time, because there is a lot to tell. Some of the stuff I did wasn’t… well, I didn’t really think it all the way through. But overall– wait,” he cut himself off, blinking down at her, the moment what he’d just heard sank in. “Your littlest boy? Do I have siblings?”

Taranga smiled up at him again. No, wait, that wasn’t a smile at all - that was a grin. Suddenly, Maui could see some resemblance all right. “You have five.”

“Five?”

The grin became somewhat sheepish. “Mua, Taha, Pae, Roto and Hina. I asked them to stay behind, because I figured that… well, seeing us all at once might be overwhelming.”

Maui, who’d already started to grin himself, felt a pang of disappointment at the words. “Ah,” said. “I… would like to meet them too, sometime. Maybe next time–”

“Well, that’s good to know,” his mother cut him off, turning to glance at the sea with a raised eyebrow. “Because as usual, they didn’t listen to me at all.”

“… Huh?”

Maui followed her gaze. The sun was almost entirely gone now, the sky beginning to darken, and he could see something approaching fast - five of them, really. They could have passed off as normal sharks, if not for the otherworldly glow around each of them and the translucent trails they left behind. They were coming straight at them - it seemed to Maui that a couple of them were making a point of cutting in in front of the others - and it only took moments before one of them reached land, its form shifting and a man’s voice shouting in victory.

“First! As usual. Is it me or you guys are getting slower with each passing century? It felt like racing with old ladies.”

“You cheated, you lump of stupid!”

“Ho-oh, the old lady is a sore loser!”

“You kept cutting us off!”

“Like you didn’t, Pae. And you still came, what, fourth? Ah well. At least you weren’t dead last. Hey, Roto. Took you a while. Did you get lost on the way?”

“Taha, are we really going to start this aga–”

“All right, get out of the way, all of you. I’ve had to look at your mugs for thousands of years. I’ve got a new brother to get sick and tired of, if you don’t min–”

“I was under the impression I’d asked the lot of you not to come,” Tarange spoke out, and there was an edge to her voice that very nearly caused Maui to cringe. There was something downright scary there, and he found himself thinking he wasn’t really looking forward to ever being on the receiving end of it.

Those who were on the receiving end - four men, all of them almost as broad as himself, and a woman who was taller than at least two of them - immediately fell silent and turned to them, moving as one like trained dolphins.

“Well–”

“We were about to stay behind, but then Mua said–”

“Hey! Don’t go blaming me! We were all in this!”

There was a groan, and the woman - Hina, was that how his sister was called? - rolled her eyes. “Really?” she muttered, and took a step forward. “You can’t have expected us to really stay behind, Ma. Not for one moment. We’ve sort of been waiting to meet this baby brother for some five thousand of years,” she pointed out, and looked straight at Maui for the first time. The others were staring at him too, now, and while Maui was used to undivided attention, it was enough to make him uncomfortable now. So he reacted to it in the only way he knew: with cockyness.

“Well, was I worth the wait?” he asked, spreading his arms with a grin - never mind how much of him sort of dreaded a negative answer. He inwardly hoped that they wouldn’t notice Mini Maui sobbing away on his chest, with Mini Moana patting his back, and that they’d rather focus on the epic feats depicted on his skin. However, Hina seemed to notice none of it. She stared at him in the eye and raised an eyebrow, but a smile was already tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I’d been hoping for a baby sister, really. But a shape shifter, demigod of wind and the sea, hero of Men and whatnot?” Her face split in a grin. “I’d say that’s the next best thing.”

Later, Maui wouldn’t be sure which one of them had reached for him first; there was a blur of motion and a moment later he’d found himself on the sand, all breath knocked out of him, tackled by what felt like five dozen people instead of just five amongst gales of laughter.

“Oof!”

“Look at this! We looked for you across the Underworld, and you were up here all along!”

“Pulling off the stuff of legends!”

“And getting all the girls, I bet!”

“You left me behind as the youngest brother! The butt of all jokes! That should have been you, you know!”

“Haha! Good look making him the butt of all jokes now! Tagaloa, look at you!”

“Hey, what was that about you lifting the sky?”

“And slowing down the sun?”

“You’re gonna have to tell us everything!”

“And Taha thought he was so great because he got a whale once!”

“Well, it was a big whale!”

“Wait until we tell everybody about this!”

“If you think there’s a lot of us now, wait until you meet everyone else!”

“Yeah, there’s our grandmother wanting to meet you, and then our kids, and their kids, and their kids–”

“There was also a guy called Vailele and his wife, I think she’s my great grandkid or something, and they told us to tell you they said hi…”

“Like, half the Underworld wanted to come see you!”

The tackle had long since turned into a messy group hug, and by the time Maui let go of them they were all covered in sand, half-laughing and half-crying while pretending the latter was only caused by the sand. Standing a few feet away, Taranga shook her head - not without reaching to wipe her eyes as well first. “Kids,” she muttered, and then frowned. “… By the way, where’s your father?” she asked, only to get a few confused look.

“Wait, wasn’t dad with you?”

“We assumed he was with you.”

“No, I assumed he was with you.”

“See, so you were expecting us to turn up!”

“All right, but where’s dad?”

“… Huh, do you think that may be him?”

Pae’s question caused all of them to glance out and sea, which was now almost completely dark. And, in that darkness, Maui could just see something translucent moving in circles, then turning north, then going back and lingering for a few moments before turning west and start swimming again… towards another island.

Behind Maui, there was a collective groan.

“Yep,” Hina muttered. “His sense of direction still sucks.”

Taranga sighed. “Roto, be a dear and go fetch your father before he becomes lost.”

“Uugh, why does it always have to be me? Can’t someone else–” he began, but Hina smacked him in the chest suddenly, and with enough strength to throw him back into the sea with a yelp. His form returned to the likeness of a shark the moment he touched water.

“You heard the boss. Go get dad.”

The shark went without further arguments - though he did raise more splashes than necessary with his tail in their general direction - and Mua looked at Maui with a grin. “The old man’s gonna have a heart attack when he sees you,” he said. Maui raised and eyebrow.

“Can that actually happen after you’re dead?” he asked, doing his best to ignore how his heart was beating somewhere in his throat at the thought of seeing his father as well - someone who looked so much like him, if what his mother had said was true.

Unaware of his thoughts, his siblings shrugged. “We can find out,” Taha muttered, glaring himself a glare from their mother.

“I’d rather you don’t,” she muttered, but her voice was drowned out by Pae’s.

“Hey, shouldn’t there be a magical fishhook? Everyone always mentioned you had one.”

“Right! Is it true that you can shapeshift with it?”

Maui laughed. “Oh, you bet it is!” he exclaimed, turning back the way he’d come. The hook was exactly where he’d dropped it. “Give me a second to pick it up, and I’ll show you!”

Over the centuries and millennia, Maui had impressed thousands of humans with his feats; but he had been aware, deep down, that the ones he had truly wanted to impress were far beyond his reach. Now they were there, at the end of a long road that had led him right back where his life had begun, and he knew that he didn’t need to impress any of them. They had come so far to meet him again, and they would have done so even if he were not, well. Maui.

Still, he was Maui… and he may as well treat his family to a little show, after going almost literally through hell and back in order to find them.

So he went to pick up his hook and turned back to them, and to the two silvery beings that were heading back towards the beach. When he lifted it above his head, he could feel himself thrumming with energy in a way he never had, a weightlessness in his chest he’d never felt. He held onto his hook - still an extension of himself, no longer his crutch - more tightly, and smirked.

It’s Maui time.

***

“All right, all right, here’s the deal: I do it one more time, and then that’s it. Then lot of you goes to bed before your parents here have an aneurysm, because I’m not gonna be held responsible for that. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“Hey, you in the back! I saw you crossing your fingers! No crossing!”

“C’mon!”

“Look! No crossing!”

“Just do the thing! Pretty please?”

Ah well, Tamatoa supposed that he should relent, since his adoring public was asking so nicely. He grinned, and turned on his bioluminescence. It was a moonless night, and it easily outshone the few fires on the shore, getting some pretty loud cheering out of the kids. Humans sure were easy to impress - no wonder Maui got their adoration in no time at all. Had he known how that would turn out, he’d have followed his example way earlier.

“All right, that was it. Enough for the day,” Tamatoa said, and turned off his bioluminescence, causing a disappointed groan and a few protests before they gave in began following the adults back to the village. Truth be told he could have kept that up all night, except that he hadn’t seen Maui and Moana anywhere for a while and was wondering where they had gone. They hadn’t even heard his song, and that was a shame because it was great, if he said so himself. Humans had loved it, nodding so fast when he’d asked that for a moment he’d wondered if it would be possible for their heads to fall off their necks.

The adults hadn’t asked for him to sing again, but the kids had wanted to hear it two more times and even tried to sing along with questionable results, so he supposed humans got shy as they aged. It was the only explanation he could think of. Moana was probably an exception. But really, where had she disappeared to? Maybe he should go looking for–

“Hey,” Moana’s voice rang out suddenly, causing him to recoil. He hadn’t heard her coming at all, and he had to squint a bit to see her in the faint light of the fires on the shore.

“Human! Here you are! I was wondering where you went. You missed– wait, is that Pilifeai on your shoulder? And where’s Maui? Has he gone off again without even saying goodbye? Because that would be really rude and–”

“He hasn’t gone anywhere. At least I don’t think so,” Moana cut him off. “It’s just… his mother came to find him. I figured I should give them some time alone.”

“Oh,” Tamatoa muttered. Taken as he’d been with the tiny humans - he couldn’t remember ever having that much company in his life, really - he’d completely forgotten what both he and Maui had been waiting for. He instinctively turned back, were the profile of a cliff was barely visible in the dark. Long ago, it had been much higher than that… until a good chunk of it had collapsed on his mother, of course.

Once again, Moana seemed to guess exactly what was going through his mind. “That’s where she died, isn’t it?”

“… Yeah. Right by the cave we lived in.”

“What are you doing still here, then? She could show up any moment, and it’s a long way from the Underworld. It would be rather rude of you to make her wait,” Pilifeai muttered, and Tamatoa had to admit he kind of had a point.

“Right,” he said, but he didn’t move. He turned back to the human, trying to ignore the stab of nervousness. “What if she’s not coming?”

She tilted her head on one side, clearly taken aback. “What? Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because… because… I don’t know. What if she doesn’t show up?”

“Then she misses out. But I’m sure she’ll know better. If she came here all the way from Lalotai when she was alive for your sake, then–”

“But she could have come earlier, right? And Gran, too. Your grandmother came back for you. Why didn’t they? They knew where I was. I stayed here for a long time,” Tamatoa asked, but of course he knew that the human couldn’t possibly have an answer to that. He would have to ask his mother when she showed up. If she showed up. How long should he wait before he decided she just was not going to–

“Tamatoa! Look!”

He turned just in time to see exactly what she was pointing at: there was something out at sea, something translucent moving beneath the surface and heading straight where the entrance to the cave was. It disappeared from sight only moments later, hidden by one of the sides of the cliff, but it was enough for him to guess exactly what was it he’d just seen.

“Well,” Pilifeai spoke up the next moment, still sprawled across Moana’s shoulders. “Looks like you’ve got a visitor after all, you dense crustacean. Go and ask her. And possibly let me know what she said, because I’m dying to know more and the human here is a complete spoilsport.”

“Oh, am I?”

“I stand by what they said.”

“Looks like someone is going to stay this size for a while longer.”

“Uuugh. I hate you. And what are you staring at, crab? Are you going or not? Because–”

“Moana? Are you there?”

A man’s voice rang out, causing Moana to turn and Pilifeai to immediately hide under her hair. If he squinted, Tamatoa could see the shadow of someone standing not too far away from one of the fires.

“Coming, dad,” she called back, and reached to give Tamatoa’s pincer a pat. “Come on, just go. Don’t make her wait.”

“But…” Tamatoa paused, unable to voice the thought that had crossed his mind - what if she doesn’t like what she sees? - but of course Moana guessed exactly what he was thinking. She always did. He was starting to wonder if it was magic, or if he was just that predictable.

“No buts. I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you.”

“I… well, of course she’ll be happy to see me! Who wouldn’t right?” Tamatoa muttered, huffing. “I was just… nevermind. I’m going. I’ll uh… see you in the morning,” he added quickly, and turned back to walk into the ocean before he lost his nerve.

He still remembered the way to his old cave very well, so much so that he needed no light to guide him as he walked across the ocean floor towards it. And it wasn’t a very long walk either but, for some reason, it seemed to stretch on for a long time.

***

“He just kept singing! We thought it would never end! Please, tell me this is not something he does all the time!”

Moana tried to ignore the way Pilifeai was snickering while hidden beneath her hair - she would need to have a very convincing talk with him later, to make sure he wouldn’t report that conversation to Tamatoa - and smiled a little sheepishly.

“Well, no all the time,” she said a bit tentatively. “Just… often, if given the chance. But if it helps, it’s easy to distract him. If he’s about to sing, diverting his attention on something else usually works. Show him something shiny, talk to him about something else entirely. He’d probably like that. He hasn’t had much company until now.”

Her father gave a long sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered. Beside him, her mother looked equally relieved. “I’ll let the others know. I don’t think we can withstand another day like this.”

“Oh, come on! I can’t have been that bad!” Moana said, getting a deadpan look from her mother.

“The children kept going on singing for hours after he stopped. Hours.”

“… Ah. Well, they’re kids. You know,” she said, inwardly thankful Maui had taken her to the other side of the island the moment Tamatoa had announced he’d start singing. Speaking of Maui, Moana though, he still wasn’t back. Was he still with his mother, or had she left? Maybe he needed some time on his own. And maybe so would Tamatoa, after it was all said and do–

“Well. I suppose the fact he saved your life is a good reason to be patient… if that is indeed what happened,” her father’s voice rang out, causing Moana to cringe. She’d almost forgotten how she hadn’t told them all the details of the journey to her people, and now she got a distinct feeling Tamatoa had done just that. In song form.

“Right. About that, there were… a couple of close calls,” she admitted, fervently hoping Tamatoa hadn’t gone into too much detail.

Fat chance.

“You actually went and threw a rock at the goddess of Death?”

Among other things, Moana thought, but she knew better than saying as much aloud. “I had sort of ran out of options to catch her attention. But all went well,” she added quickly, causing her father to groan and her mother to sigh before she reached to take her hand.

“Moana. Do you think you can just… stay with us on the island for a time? Maybe a few turns of the moon without getting involved with deranged deities?” she asked, a hopeful note in her voice. In the flickering light of the fire they were sitting around, Moana really noticed for the first time how tired she looked, like she hadn’t gotten a full night of sleep in a while.

But of course she hadn’t: despite Moana’s efforts to sugarcoat it, it had been clear that the journey she was getting into could be very dangerous, because at sea any shift of the weather can become deadly. Of course they had worried for her: that was what parents do. How many times had they looked out at sea, hoping to see her boat at the horizon?

Trying to ignore a slight pang of guilt, Moana smiled and held back her hand. “Of course. I love being here with all of you. I’m sorry I ran off again so quickly. I missed you a lot.”

“Oh, dear. We missed you too, so much.”

“Awww!”

“… What was that?”

“What was what?” Moana asked innocently, casually reaching back to give Pilifeai a sharp poke through her hair. The lizard was smart enough to mute the resulting yelp.

“I thought I heard–”

“I didn’t hear a thing. Dad, tell me how things have been going! I have yet to see so much of this new island. How are you getting on with the harvest?”

“Rather well, actually! We found this spot just east from here that was perfect. I’ll show you first thing in the morning. Actually, I’d like to hear your opinion on this…”

***

“If you want my opinion–”

“But I don’t want your opinion! I have never in my life or death asked for your opinion! Why are you so obsessed with giving it anyway?”

“There’s no need to be rude. I’m sure he’ll be here, sooner or later. Unless he forgot where the Manaia told him to wait, or forgot where this island even is, or is stuck somewhere because he saw something shiny and his attention span is what it is. I would put none of it past him.”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my son holding off Hine-Nui-Te-Po. And remind me again which one of you went to have a stroll on an undersea volcano.”

“Hmph. Now that was uncalled for - that volcano had been inactive for so long I had no idea it was even one. And before you get too smug, may I remind you…“

Whatever his grandmother said next was lost to Tamatoa, because he was not listening, not really. Standing in shallow water, shrouded in darkness, he could only stare at the departed spirits of his mother and grandmother, bickering only steps away from the entrance of the cave he’d been brought up in.

Otherworldly spirit glow thing aside, his grandmother - had she just invited herself over? But of course she had, it was the sort of thing she’d do - was everything like he remembered her: even more massive than himself, her shell darker than his own and mottled with black, looking all the world like she’d been cut out of stone. What he couldn’t tear his eyes from, however, was his mother.

He had very vague memories of her; it had been so long. If he focused, he remembered vaguely her bioluminescence in the dark, the occasional nudge from her antennae, and little else. Now he could tell that yes, she was smaller than he was now, her skin and shell several shades lighter. Her pincers were entirely missing, the skin heavily scarred where her arms should have been - if that could be called skin, really, because he wasn’t really sure what spirits were made of. They made ripples in the water as they moved, though, so he supposed they had to be sort of corporeal. Maybe he should ask.

He would have, if only he could make himself speak. Instead, he took a hesitant step forward - and one of his legs slipped on an unstable boulder beneath the water, causing him to stagger for a moment and raise splashes of water.

“… And besides I didn’t see you making it to my ag– huh? Who’s there?”

His grandmother suddenly turned in his direction, eyes narrowing to see through the dark, causing Tamatoa to inwardly cringe. For one absurd moment, it felt like he’d been caught with his pincers in the clam jar all over again.

“I know someone is there!” she spoke up again, and took a couple of steps forward. “Tamatoa? Is that you?”

Tamatoa opened his mouth to croak a ‘yes’, but he stopped himself just on time, frowning. Wait a moment, he thought, that wasn’t right. He was supposed to make a cool entry, wasn’t he? Something impressive. Why had he just rushed to the meeting point without thinking? He could at least have come up with something to say, or maybe even a musical number. Really, just showing up like that would make a really bad first impression. He had to think of something impressive to say or do, and he couldn’t think of anything to say, so he did the only thing he could think of on the spot: he turned on his bioluminescence.

In the moonless night it seemed even brighter than usual; it was enough to make them pause and stare, which made him feel just a touch smug. Alright, maybe a bit more than a touch. Except that his mother spoke after a moment, and the smugness disappeared because yes, the light show was great and all, but he still had no idea what to say.

“… Tamatoa?” she called out, taking a few steps towards him.

All right, all right. Don’t panic. Play it cool.

“Yeah. I mean, of course! Who else could it be? I am… the only one left, right? Unless some other dead crab is out and about, I guess, but I never saw any around, so while it’s not technically impossible… huh. I mean. Yeah. That’d be me,” he babbled, mentally kicking himself for sounding like a complete idiot. Then his mother stopped in front of him, and it took him a conscious effort not to step back.

What if she doesn’t like what she sees?

I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you.

For a few, unnerving moments, she just stared; she had to look up to him, but somehow Tamatoa still felt really, really small. Then her antennae were touching his face - the touch was really odd, sort of corporeal and sort of not, but definitely there - and the wide-eyed look faded into a grin that looked oddly familiar.

“Oh, look at you!” she exclaimed, sounding absolutely delighted, and took a few steps back. “You’re a lot bigger than your father ever was!”

“That might be because you ate that idiot when he was half his age. Like most most males who actually mated,” Tupuna’s voice rang out somewhere behind her, but she seemed to take absolutely no notice: she was already circling Tamatoa, as though to properly size him up. She paused for a moment, and frowned.

“What happened to your leg?”

“Ah. That, er… that was lost in battle. But I won in the end! Absolutely!” he added quickly, and the grin was back on his mother’s face like it had never faded. She turned to look at his grandmother, her face the very picture of smugness. That, too, looked eerily familiar.

“Hah! So much for being a runt, huh, mother?”

There was a sigh, and Tamatoa turned to see Tupuna approaching. Her glow turned the water around her to molten silver. “Fine, fine. I get it. I was wrong,” she conceded, and turned to look at him before uttering the closest thing to a compliment she was capable to think up. “I have to admit, you did get quite a bit bigger than I thought you ever would.”

“And look at the pincers - he could grind every single crab I’ve met to dust!”

“I, er… thanks? I mean - of course I could!” Tamatoa immediately corrected himself, and grinned. With the sense of wonder fading, he found he really liked how that meeting was going. “Shame there aren’t any around for me to show it, but I’ve been keeping myself busy. You know, slowing down the sun, beating up the occasional monster, the occasional demon, a goddess, things like that. I usually do that on Tuesdays, but–”

“All right, enough. Don’t go too far, Tinytoa,” his grandmother cut him off, and sneered at his offended look. “Oooh, look at that. You still pout like you used to.”

“I’m not pouting! And… and I’m not tiny! Come on!”

“Hah! And you still say the same thing, too. But this old lady is still bigger than you are, you know,” she pointed out, flicking her antennae at him like she used to in life. “Plus, I am your grandmother. I get to call you whatever I want.”

“But–”

“No buts. Don’t talk back to your grandmother, kid.”

“I am five thousand years old!”

“Cute. We’ll talk about this again when you’re past fifteen-thousand.”

“Mom!”

“Oh, stop teasing him,” his mother muttered, rolling her eyes. “Keep that for Ngaire, Ngaio and just about everyone else.”

“Hmm. Fair enough. Shame we didn’t bump into them on our way out, because I’d have loved to have a few words with them before leaving.”

… Wait. Tamatoa had heard those names before. “What, you mean those two old hags I met at Manawa-Tane?” he asked, causing Tīaka to snort.

“Yes, them. They sauntered down in the Underworld, pleasant as eels stuck between one’s teeth, talking complete nonsense about how I should have tried for another clutch. I can’t wait to mention to them what you’ve–”

“So it was nonsense, right?”

Tamatoa had blurted out the question without thinking, and found himself trying to shrink a little when both of them paused and turned to look at him, blinking as though they had just heard him speaking in a foreign language. “I-I mean… what they said about, you know…” Tamatoa paused, making a vague gesture with his claw. “How you should have, uh, discarded me and… that I was kind of a waste? I mean, of course I know they were absolutely wrong, you know, never doubted it for a moment! But I was wondering, if you agree… well. You agree, right? That it wasn’t true at all?”

For a moment, Tīaka just stared at him in silence. Finally, her eyes narrowed. “Is that precisely what they said?”

“Uh… yes. They also called you an idiot.”

“… They’re dead.”

Tupuna snorted. “Of course they’re dead. We all are.”

“You know what I mean,” her daughter said drily, and looked back at Tamatoa. “Wait. You didn’t believe that, did you?”

“Wha– nooo, absolutely not!” Tamatoa immediately protested, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling that she could read the truth on his face, clear as day. “I know I’m absolutely amazing, so why should I believe them?” he added, and grinned, pointing at himself with a bioluminescent claw. “They were probably just jealous of all this magnificence.”

His grandmother sighed. “Oh gods, he does take after his father. Your looks and his brains,” she muttered, earning himself an unimpressed look from her daughter. Still, it was on Tamatoa that Tīaka turned her attention to, taking a few steps closer.

“All right. I want you to listen now and listen well, because I’m only going to say this once,” she said, and something about her stare seemed to glue Tamatoa on the spot. For the second time in minutes he felt very, very small. “I am dead, our entire species is gone - but you are here and I’m not even remotely sorry. My only regret is that I was unable to save your siblings as well. That is all. If I could go back to having no claws and just one hatched egg, I’d do everything I have done all over aga– no, scratch that. I probably wouldn’t have gone out on a stroll that day if I’d known a cliff would crash down on me. But as far as you’re concerned, there is nothing I would change. Is that clear?”

Tamatoa opened his mouth, but for a moment he was unable to speak. His eyes turned towards his grandmother, who shrugged. “What she said,” she muttered curtly. That was probably as far as she’d go with reassurances, but it was already a lot more than Tamatoa would have expected from the old battle axe, and he supposed it would do. He looked back at his mother and swallowed a couple of times before he could croak an answer.

“Crystal,” he replied, and his mother’s expression melted in a grin.

“Great,” she said, one antenna ficking at his own. “With that out of the way, we have a lot to catch up with. What have you been up to?”

Well, now that was going to take a while to get through. Good thing, Tamatoa thought, that he was really good at talking about himself for hours on end.

And he did talk for hours, through the entire night right until dawn, trying his best to recall all of his coolest moments and maybe exaggerate a detail or two. His grandmother hardly interrupted him - nothing short of a miracle, really - while his mother listened to each word with rapt attention, just the kind of attention he liked.

It would be only later, when both of them had left to return to the Underworld with the promise to visit again, that Tamatoa realized something: taken as they were by him, neither of them seemed to have even noticed the gold embedded in his shell.

***

[Back to Chapter 17]

[On to Epilogue]

#moana waialiki #maui #tamatoa #moana #oceania

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thisislizheather · 5 years ago

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July Jiffs 2019

So technically the end of August is the appropriate time to start any and all Halloween/autumn talk (I think I made up that rule, but it feels right), so I’ll respect that and wait. Just know that I’m inwardly filling up with joy in anticipation of the best time of the year. Here’s what went down this month!

I made a list of some of my favourite summer vacation-y movies that I like to watch to pass the ungodly slow summer hours.

I read and reviewed the book Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed (the woman who wrote Wild).

We had a small party for July 4th and it was the best. Here’s what I made and loved: Panzanella Salad with Fresh Mozzarella (I used the How Sweet Eats recipe, but added mozzarella and omitted the corn and avocado - I also made the croutons the Ree Drummond way, because that’s the tastiest way), Spinach Bacon & Artichoke Stuffed Mushrooms (because they’re so delicious I want to scream), I used bell peppers as the bowls for holding the ranch for the vegetables, Slow Cooker Ribs, Eggplant Lasagna (I can’t remember the recipe I used, but it was pretty basic), Peanut Butter & Nutella Cheesecake Bars (this was the second time I’ve made these and it’s a perfect dessert to make a night or two before so that it can really set up), Blueberry Lemon Bread, and a charcuterie board (which is like assembling food art & I love it).

My favourite fruit/vegetable season is the end of summer mainly because of the fresh tomatoes and corn, so I can’t wait to try some of these corn dishes available in NYC right now. Although I don’t know how any of them are going to compete with the corn gnocchi at Park Avenue Summer. (I just looked and there’s also a sweet corn agnolotti with black summer truffles on the menu now too, so things just got interesting.)

Jenn sent me a link to this lovely poem Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo that I just love.

I watched the AOC documentary Knock Down The House on Netflix and it’s so, so good. Cried at the ending.

I went on Nathan’s podcast to talk about dogs, cheating and movies.

I went for lunch at the cafe at Lilia in Brooklyn and it was ONLY AVERAGE. So that was disappointing. Maybe I ordered badly? I got the prosciutto, parmigiano butter, balsamic mustard sandwich - and even though it looks great (love whole grain mustard), it was really just too bready and not very flavourful.

Above Photo: Prosciutto, parmigiano butter, balsamic mustard sandwich at Lilia Cafe, Brooklyn

I saw Midsommar (by the same guy who did Hereditary last year) and I really liked it. Some parts are just unnecessarily graphic (and the slow motion shots of this stuff are insane to watch), but the plot was great. Love an original movie.

Watched the entirety of Champions on Netflix and it really bums me out that it got cancelled, it was a really fun show.

Made this chocolate chunk coconut banana bread and it was goooooood.

I visited the new TWA Hotel at JFK and wrote about it over here.

So excited to hear that there will be three more seasons of Big Mouth!

I also rewatched Dante’s Peak (still a great movie) and Twister (again, it holds up). I think I was in a natural disaster kinda mood that week.

Do you remember experiencing or hearing about the ride Kongfrontation at Universal Studios in Florida? I’ve only ever heard of it, but it seems like it was probably the best ride that ever existed at that park. I hate how most ride these days are just 3D screens with no real interaction or animatronics, it’s bullshit.

Fucking obsessed with this strawberry lemonade kombucha that’s apparently only available at Trader Joe’s. I thought their gingerade was the best flavour, but now I have to reassess everything. (Also tried the “watermelon wonder” but it’s pure trash.)

Some songs that I can’t stop listening to: You Need To Calm Down by Taylor Swift, Blow Your Mind by Dua Lipa, Everybody by Elliphant feat. Azealia Banks, Boys by Lizzo, Let Me Go by Hailee Steinfeld & Alesso feat. Florida Georgia Line & watt, Doin’ Time by Lana Del Ray, We Were Young by Petit Biscuit feat. JP Cooper, Calma (Remix) by Pedro Capo & Farruko

Apparently I can’t get enough of Bill Hader.

I refuse to shut up about how great the (square bottle) nail polishes are at Urban Outfitters. They’ve been consistently great for years. I’ve been wearing their neon pink Hot Tub off and on for at least five years, and they keep putting out wicked new colours. There’s almost always a 3 for $10 deal and recently I got Coffee Creamer, Sun Bunny & Optic White and they’re BEAUTIFUL.

It’s currently Restaurant Week again (it’s on until August 16th), so of course I went back to The Dutch for their beautiful wagyu steak tartare. I also had the corn cappelletti with chanterelle mushrooms and marjoram that was heavenly.

Above Photo: Wagyu steak tartare, The Dutch, NYC

Above Photo: Corn cappelletti, The Dutch, NYC

I saw The Farewell and it’s everything I wanted it to be and more! Definitely go see it. It also reminded me of this beautiful song that I had to sing for a competition once years ago, Caro Mio Ben.

There’s a deal with ClassPass where you can use the service for free for two weeks, so I tried it and it’s not that great. It’s just too expensive to justify having it when I already have a monthly gym membership somewhere else. I did try an aqua cycling class through Aqua Studio during the free trial and it was… only okay. I mean, it’s fun and great to be in the salt water, but it wasn’t all that challenging as a workout.

I wasn’t planning on buying it, but I tried it, loved it, so had to buy it: Glossier’s Brow Flick. I’m still learning how to use it properly, but so far I’m really into it. It inspired this eyebrow products video that I posted last week.

I saw Toy Story 4 and I really hope this is the final one they make because the ending was so good. That’s all I’ll say. Quality series of movies, right here.

Some friends of mine recently opened up a small, late night food place called Foodstruck in Astoria and the food is really good. They’ve just opened, so they’re still figuring out their hours but I think they’re catering to the late night crowd, especially servers/bartenders who get off work late. Check out some of the food specials from this past week.

Above Photo: Burger with gruyere, onion marmalade, sun dried tomatoes & a rosemary garlic butter on a potato bun

Above Photo: Fried boneless chicken thighs with a garlic soy tamarind glaze

Above Photo: Fried chicken sandwich with a spicy mayo, cheese sauce & pickles on a potato bun

My too-kind friend Irene got us a housewarming gift of a Diptyque candle (in eucalyptus) and somehow it’s still going after three months of daily use, which is incredible. Do not look up how expensive this candle is.

I watched To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before on Netflix and really liked it! Especially the hot tub scene. But let’s not get into it. I double-checked to make sure they’re both over 21 and they are, so all’s good.

Made this pappardelle pasta with mushroom ragu when Nathan was out of town (I like to get my mushroom recipes in when he’s gone) and it’s definitely going on my favourite-dinner-recipes list.

I ate at Misi in Brooklyn because I’ve wanted to go for ages and the pasta was solid as hell, I’d definitely go back. We had the charred peppers, marjoram, and whipped ricotta crostini, the corzetti with marinated sungold (peeled) tomatoes, garlic, pecorino & summer herbs (have you ever eaten a PEELED tomato? It almost feels wrong. The good kind of wrong), the strangozzi with pork sugo, nutmeg and parmigiana and for dessert we had the strawberries and cream gelato (it was a special that night) and the espresso gelato. Everything was so crazy good. The service was fantastic and the space is huge. Is it better than Lilia or L'Artusi (pasta-wise)? Ugh, that's such a hard question. It's really good. I'll have to revisit to get more intel to make a final decision on that.

I went to Coney Island with Irene and it was great, as it always should be.

I visited the Profundo Day Club (mainly to get my ass in a pool) earlier this month, and I highly doubt that I’ll return. Mostly because even though the pool was nice (small, but nice) and refreshing, the blaring house music in the middle of the day was a little excessive. There’s also a disco ball above the pool itself. And a unicorn floatie that drifts around the water. And waitresses who shoot sparklers off when someone buys a bottle of liquor. It’s… not for me, let’s say. And the cheapest pass was $70 (tax included), which is waaaay too expensive for Queens. Let’s be real.

There’s a new season of Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee and the Martin Short episode is just lovely. It almost killed me when he was talking about when he bought his house and said, “We bought it in 1986” even though his wife passed away years ago. Am I being ridiculous in thinking that him using the word “we” is so sad and sweet and nice? Or maybe that’s a normal thing to say and I’d melt at anything to come out of his mouth. And while it was a good episode, I got so fucking sick of all the filler shots of coffee being brewed, coffee being poured into a cup, beans being tossed in a can, flowers sitting in vases - for fuck sake JUST TALK TO MARTIN SHORT AND SHOW ME THAT. Annoying as hell.

Nathan and I started watching season three of Stranger Things and… it’s not good? We saw all of the first season, which was pretty good. Attempted season two and never finished it because it became boring. And last week, we watched the first couple episodes of season three and I think we’ve silently agreed on just stopping it altogether. And look, I’m happy other people like it, but it’s just not for me. Demogorgons are too close to being dragons, maybe that’s why I can’t care about them?

I like to go to at least one baseball game each season, so I went to a Mets game last weekend and got this beauty that was the giveaway (below) since it was the 50th anniversary of the moon landing.

Honestly, this bobblehead makes me so happy for some reason. I love going to Citi Field especially ‘cause the food is always so good. We got the filet mignon steak sandwich from the aptly named Pat LaFrieda’s Original Filet Mignon Steak Sandwich, incredible fries from Box Frites, souvenir cups & drinks from Effen Vodka Bar, mozzarella sticks from Big Mozz, and chips & queso with ginger lime margaritas from Cantina.

Above Photo: Pat LaFrieda’s filet mignon steak sandwich, Citi Field

Above Photo: Fries with parmesan ranch and cheese sauce from Box Frites, Citi Field

Two new things that I’m going to start doing:

1. Buying less things off of Amazon. If there’s an alternative, independently run company that I can find the item at (and if the price isn’t wildly more expensive) then I’ll shop there instead. Every new thing I hear about Amazon makes me shudder, and I hate that it’s become my default place for me to buy anything.

2. If a store/restaurant is cashless (ie. credit cards only), then I’ll refuse to shop there. It’s insane that this isn’t illegal everywhere yet. I’m so sick of it and cash should be accepted everywhere, it’s nuts that I even need to say that. (I was excited to have lunch at Ole & Steen in Union Square for lunch the other day, but they’re “cashfree” so fuck them!)

Some things that I’m looking forward to doing this month: I’ve already sent in my email requesting tickets for Saturday Night Live (you can only request tickets during the entire month of August), I can’t wait to see Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark with Layla, there’s a tomato gelato that I want to try that sounds either awful or life-affirming, going on our anniversary trip at the end of the month, excited for a Canyon Creek caesar salad with Harmeet, planning on going to the CNE with my mom (haven’t done this in years), going to two weddings (!!) and I love weddings, being in a pool with Marla and a bunch of our kids, and taking advantage of a few more Restaurant Week specials. Excited for the last month of trash weather!

#Liz Heather #Nathan Macintosh #July Jiffs 2019 #monthly roundup #summer #NYC #best of NYC #best summer #Positive Anger

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