#best nails in bali
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hungryfacesart · 2 months ago
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Relax, Rejuvenate, Repeat: My Spa Experience with Thai and Balinese Massage
As a fashion stylist, my days are frequently packed with long hours, meetings, and strong creativity, which, although exhilarating, can be exhausting. After all, taking care of others’ appearances requires me to prioritize my own well-being. That’s why, following a particularly frantic season, time to pamper myself with something relaxing: a spa vacation in Thailand and Bali, two of Southeast…
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theloversclubs-blog · 1 month ago
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Top Bali Nail Artists You Need to Follow for Stunning Nail Designs
Bali is not just a paradise for beach lovers and wellness seekers; it’s also a vibrant hub for nail art enthusiasts. If you’re looking to elevate your nail game, this island is home to some of the most talented nail artists in the world. In this article, we’ll introduce you to the top Bali nail artists you must follow for stunning nail designs that will leave you in awe.
Kris Nail Art
Kris Nail Art is known for her intricate designs that blend traditional Balinese elements with modern styles. From delicate floral patterns to bold geometric shapes, Kris’s work is unique and stunning. Her Instagram feed is filled with vibrant colors and creative ideas, making her a must-follow for anyone looking to spice up their nails.
Why Follow Kris? Her attention to detail and ability to customize designs for each client make her a standout artist in Bali.
Nail Room Bali
Located in the heart of Seminyak, Nail Room Bali has gained a reputation for its chic atmosphere and talented nail technicians. The team here excels in creating both classic and trendy nail designs, using high-quality products that ensure long-lasting results. They also offer nail art workshops, perfect for those looking to learn the craft.
Why Follow Nail Room Bali? Their commitment to client satisfaction and innovative nail art techniques make them a go-to spot for nail lovers.
The Nail Bar Bali
The Nail Bar Bali offers a luxurious nail experience with a focus on creativity and quality. Their talented artists are skilled in a variety of nail techniques, including gel nails, acrylics, and intricate nail art. Each visit promises a pampering session that leaves your nails looking fabulous.
Why Follow The Nail Bar? They frequently showcase their latest designs on social media, providing endless inspiration for your next manicure.
Bali Nail Art Studio
If you’re searching for unique and artistic nail designs, Bali Nail Art Studio is the place to be. The artists here are known for their creativity and ability to execute complex designs with precision. From minimalist styles to elaborate artworks, they cater to all tastes.
Why Follow Bali Nail Art Studio? Their portfolio is filled with one-of-a-kind creations that are sure to inspire your next nail appointment.
Nailicious Bali
Delicious Bali is a favorite among locals and tourists alike. This nail salon combines top-notch services with a relaxed atmosphere, making it a great spot to unwind while getting your nails done. Their talented artists are skilled in a variety of styles, including 3D nail art and ombre designs.
Why Follow Nailicious Bali? Their creative and playful approach to nail art will keep you returning for more.
Tips for Finding Your Perfect Nail Artist
When choosing a nail artist, consider the following tips:
Check Social Media: Browse their Instagram or Facebook pages to see their portfolio and recent work.
Read Reviews: Look for client testimonials to gauge their reliability and quality of service.
Visit in Person: If possible, stop by the salon to get a feel for the atmosphere and hygiene practices.
Conclusion
Bali is home to some of the most talented nail artists who can turn your nail dreams into reality. Whether you prefer minimalist designs or bold statements, these top Bali nail artists offer a range of styles to suit every taste. Follow them for inspiration and book your appointment to experience their stunning nail art firsthand!
Ready to elevate your nail game? Dive into the world of Bali’s nail artistry and find the perfect artist for your next stunning nail design!
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opulentbali · 5 months ago
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Opulent Studio Bali
Experience luxury at Opulent Studio Bali, located in the heart of Bali. Our opulent studios offer unmatched comfort and grace, perfect for your next tropical getaway. For more information visit our website now.
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wileys-russo · 2 months ago
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pretty little mornings II f.rolfö (18+)
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part of the colourblind universe pretty little mornings II f.rolfö (18+)
your eyes fluttered awake as you felt a body settle down on top of you, warm and soft with a mess of blonde hair obstructing your vision, the smell of roses invading your senses from her shampoo. 
with a small chuckle your hand snuck its way up her shirt to rub her back, the other entangling itself in her golden locks, nails scratching softly against her scalp as you felt her weight bare even more into you as she settled with a content sigh and a lazy kiss to your shoulder blade.
"good morning solsken." you mumbled with an amused smile, closing your eyes again and feeling her exhale tiredly into your neck with only a small grunt sounding in response to your greeting.
the defender had stumbled through your front door not long before midnight last night, having been away in the states for barcelonas pre season tour for the week and insisting you wait for her at home rather than meet her at the airport given their late flight time.
knowing she was jet lagged you did your best to stay up with her, but fingers carding fondly through your hair as she rambled on about everything she'd been up to (that you already knew given whenever she wasn't busy she was on the phone to you) it didn't take long before you were out like a light and fridolina was carrying you to bed.
"and here i was thinking you were the early riser in this relationship min kärlek." you teased, feeling her fingers pinch your hip in a silent warning before she slowly lifted her head a little more and you cracked one eye open.
"this marriage." your wife corrected and you melted at the tired rasp to her voice, the girl poking your nose with a sleepy smile and flopping right back down on top of you making you let out a laugh.
after what felt like years being engaged, you and your long time lover had finally said i do and tied the knot during the off season.
you'd gotten married in sweden at the same little vineyard that the two of you had met at, ironically also at a wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and families.
and not long after you disappeared off the grid to bali for a two week honeymoon where not a single second seemed to pass that you and your wife couldn't keep your hands off of each other.
"mm now i get to tell people my wife is finally home." you hummed happily, wincing a little as her cold hands sought out the warmth of your bare sides.
"if i had to wake up alone in bed one more day i might have retired." fridolina grumbled, words muffled against the skin of your neck where her head was tucked away.
"baby you were gone for a week! we used to do months apart when you were first playing in germany." you laughed again, moving your hand from where it sat tracing circles up and down her back for all of a millisecond before you heard her huff indignantly and wiggle herself in a silent demand you continue.
"i was scratching my nose fånig." you chuckled, short nails again soothing up and down her bare back as the taller girl settled.
"well vacker you weren't mrs rolfö then, and i still used to miss you like crazy. i miss you when you're just in another room." your wife confessed and you melted significantly at the tired but soft admission, the blonde always at her most mushy at the start of the day.
"fridolina!" you whined as suddenly a finger invaded your nostril, craning your head back and smacking her hand away, spoke too soon.
"you are such a child sometimes." you huffed, pulling both your hands away from her body as she was quick to catch them in her own, wrapping them back around her as your eyes rolled.
"did you just roll your eyes at me?" of course she'd know without even having to be looking at you, it was as if she had a sixth sense when it came to you, especially when you weren't doing what you knew was expected of you.
"...no." you lied, smiling innocently as her head popped up, golden blonde hair falling around you like a curtain and water colour eyes bore down into your own, puffy from the lack of sleep but still narrowing.
"jag älskar dig." you puckered your lips expectantly, flashing the cutest look you could muster this early in the morning, watching as the older girl faltered for just a moment, and you could almost hear the cogs turning in her head about where she wanted to go with this next.
"don't do it again." with that she dropped back down on top of you, and foolishly you thought you'd gotten away with it.
but then you felt her shift a little, left arm sneaking up her jersey which covered your top half, and you smiled turning your head to kiss her.
but your lips never touched, a gasp instead leaving your mouth as her thumb and forefinger tweaked your nipple, large hand palming your breast as your head pushed back into the pillows.
you blinked and suddenly she was on top of you properly this time, strong toned legs caging your smaller body beneath hers as they squeezed your hips, her hair pushed to one side of her head as pearly white teeth grinned down at you knowingly.
you tried to speak but the words died in your mouth as her assault on your chest continued, the jersey quickly pushed up to pool in the column of your throat as you saw a flash of blonde hair and felt her tongue flatten against your sternum.
any attempt to protest was shut down in an instant at the intoxicating feeling of her tongue circling your nipple, sucking your breast into her hot mouth had your hips bucking up and a moan ripped from you instead.
one hand fisted the soft silk sheets of your shared bed, knuckles white and a guttural groan dropping from your lips, while the other entangled itself into her mane of golden blonde hair, the short sharp tug against her roots only spurring your wife on further.
"oh!" you managed out as her mouth remained switching between both of your breasts, hot and sensual as she sucked marks into your chest reveling in the fact that she would be the only one to see when they no doubt turned varying shades of red and purple.
you felt three long fingers drag slowly down your stomach, touch feather light but leaving goosebumps scattered across your skin in their wake.
your eyes fluttered closed when she reached her final destination, teasingly pressing against your covered sex, tracing circles atop your panties and you heard her groan feeling just how wet you were already.
it was almost embarrassing how desperate you were for her to touch you now she’d started, an entire week without her having been a cruel torture after you’d both just spent the last two weeks fucking like rabbits.
"more!" you just managed to demand quietly, eyes flying wide open as everything came grinding to an abrupt halt, every trace of her touch stilling bar from the feel of her thighs pressing against yours where she sat on top of you.
your wife never found you looked more gorgeous than when pink with a needy flush, squirming and writhing and making the most pretty little noises beneath her, ready and willing to do whatever she wanted.
"oh baby." the blonde chuckled cruely, mouth inches from your own as she leaned down, lips ghosting yours as her bright green eyes drunk you in, sharp as a hawk.
fridolina refused to remove the now soaked material of your panties, only tugging on the waistband a little to hoick them up as the way they rubbed made you whine.
it allowed her to stroke up and down the swollen lips of your pussy, but stopped you from actually feeling the pleasure you craved from the slender fingers of your blonde lover.
"i know i indulged you on our honeymoon älskling, but i thought i'd trained you to be patient above all else." the older girl tutted with a mocking pout, hand still continuing its torturous ministrations against your clothed clit.
"oh i missed waking up like this more than you know sötsaker. hearing your pretty little moans and whines, watching your body squirm and jolt at every little touch." sure enough your hips bucked as she slipped one single finger under your panties, pushing it in and pulling it out as you whined at the loss.
"mm i had to touch myself instead, but always thinking about you. about taking you apart piece by piece like a little puzzle, watching you wait oh so patiently for me to put you back together, to give you what you need. because who knows best what you need älskling?" you knew the question was rhetorical but she expected an answer anyway, lips curled into a cruel smirk you'd grown to be infatuated with.
"you. only you, always you." "exactly."
"did you touch yourself while i was gone? våga inte ljuga för mig." she warned sharply, and as always the way she switched so quickly from soft to stern had your head melting, and putting you right where she wanted you.
"no! jag lovar." you barely managed out, her lips attaching to your neck with a satisfied hum, immediately seeking out every little spot she knew drove you wild.
"oh such a good girl. min duktiga flicka." your cheeks somehow grew even redder at the praise, breathless and scrambling to cling onto anything as your wife nipped at your neck, skilful fingers still rubbing circles over your panties which were practically ruined with your need for her.
foolishly again you thought with the promise that you’d not touched yourself in over a week that she might properly fuck you now, giving you the release that your body was begging her for without you even needing to open your mouth.
this thought was helped by the fact you knew your wife had been waiting to, proven by the countless detailed and downright pornagraphic texts she’d send near daily while away, about where her filthy mind often wandered to when not occupied with football.
but no, again, you were dumb to think you’d get off that easily with how much pleasure she gave herself in making you wait.
after all your wife adored nothing more than the control she had over you, and your orgasms. seeing just how far you’d let her bend you without breaking, touching you and toying with your body like she owned it, with false pouts and insincere coo’s as you’d call out her name dripping with need.
and evilly you knew she got the most pleasure from prolonging your eventual release.
making you hold eye contact with her as she ruined you, one little glance away all it would take for her hand to wrap around your throat and have you seeing stars.
despite knowing the answer until fridolina was ready would be no you’d beg for it anyway, your wife drunk with power that the only person who could give you what you needed was her, and she was in full control of when and how and if that happened.
you withheld the urge to scream as once more her touch disappeared all together, whatever discontent noise you did make swallowed by her lips engulfing yours.
her hands then fell to your cheeks, deepening the kiss as her tongue returned home shoving its way into your mouth, tracing ever little bump and dip as if mapping it out in her own head.
you exhaled shakily as her teeth clamped down on your bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth and pulling back causing it to stretch and snap back toward you with a pop.
“don’t forget to breathe sötnos.” her tone was teasing and light as her lust filled eyes raked over you, lips curling into a smile of utter satisfaction at the fresh love bites and bruises littering your tanned skin.
“good girl.” the blonde praised as you took a deep breath, near floating as her thumbs stroked the curve of your jaw and a few much sweeter kisses were dusted along your now swollen and plump lips.
“would you like a coffee?” and there it was, the dismissal of your current state as if you weren’t laying beneath her bright red, clammy and panting, body burning with a desire for a release that felt as if it may never come.
all you could manage was a nod but the slight raise of her eyebrows was all the reminder you needed that she expected verbal responses, forever warning you to use your words especially when she was midway through stealing the very breath from your lungs.
“yes please.” you sighed as she nodded with a much softer smile, thumb tugging down your bottom lip and eyes glimmering at the way they parted for her, expecting her fingers to slip past them and into your mouth.
but to your surprise her digits never came, instead you watched as she sucked the remenets of you off of her own fingers, even daring to give you a wink at the way your chest deflated beneath her.
“du ser så vacker ut på morgonen.” the blonde smiled, a more tender look across her face as she shuffled off of you, allowing you to pull yourself into a slightly more seated position with a wince, the uncomfortable but undeniable wetness coating your panties dripping down your inner thigh.
something which of course did not go unnoticed by your eagle eyed lover. “stackaren. let me take care of that for you.” she cooed, leaning down to kiss you and you felt her smile against her lips as her hand trailed downward again, hips bucking but this time her touch was gone as quick as it came.
your soaked thong hanging off of her pointer finger she was up and off of you in a blink, feet hitting the floorboards she was half naked and stretching out with a grunt as you heard her back click.
“you should take a shower älska, maybe a cold one?” she grinned wickedly and it took all of the self control she’d drilled into you over the years not to roll your eyes at the cockiness which radiated off of her at your dishevelled and dissatisfied state.
“i will go make breakfast and coffee, but neither will taste even half as sweet as you min ängel. now go clean yourself up, snälla.” and with your jaw hanging open and a tender kiss to your forehead she was gone, footsteps thumping down the landing.
you groaned and flopped back down in bed, tugging down her jersey which was still sitting against your neck with a huff.
when you were wed and both agreed until death do you part, you should have known that each day your wife would test just how much she could be the eventual death of you.
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louisupdates · 4 months ago
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INTERVIEW: Lottie Tomlinson: we lost our mum and sister. Louis saved me
At the age of 20, the sister of One Direction singer Louis had already lost her mother, Johannah, and sister Félicité. Now 25, the social media star has written a book about how they coped
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Alice Thomson | Tuesday July 23 2024, 5.00pm BST, The Times
Losing Mum was so hard. I was only a teenager but at least I knew that her death was a possibility, even though she didn’t accept it. She was 47 and had cancer. But when my sister died three years later, I was on this hotel balcony in Bali and I was screaming, ‘No, my baby sister, no.’ The pain was indescribable. I kept thinking, ‘Why me? This can’t be happening again. When is this going to end?’ ”
We are sitting on Lottie Tomlinson’s immaculate white sofa in her pristine white house in Chislehurst, southeast London, where she is curled up in tiny shorts with a perfect tan and impeccably applied make-up. But her French manicured nails are digging so hard into the sofa I think they might snap, the heart tattoo on her minuscule wrist is throbbing and her eyelashes are clogged with tears.
Her life sounds blessed. The influencer has 4.8 million Instagram followers waiting for her to dispense advice on how to apply mascara; the fake tan brand, Tanologist, that she launched at 19 has gone global; and she has a devoted fiancé, Lewis Burton, who runs a luxury concierge business and whose former girlfriend was the late Caroline Flack. They have an adorable son called Lucky, who is dripping ice cream on her marble counters. Her new book is also called Lucky Girl; her older brother is Louis Tomlinson of One Direction and she was touring the world with the band as a make-up artist at 16.
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But after her mother died when she was 18, Tomlinson was left looking after her younger sister and two sets of twin siblings, aged eight and two, while creating her businesses, and trying to process her grief. Her father had left their home in Doncaster years before after a battle with alcohol. “Dad had a drinking problem. We’d see glimpses of his good side but he let us down,” she says. “I ended up trying to take care of him rather than the other way round.”
When her mother died, life felt bleak, “I lost the one person who loved me unconditionally, and then when my sister Fizz [Félicité] died of an accidental overdose, I thought I could never be happy again,” she says. “I found the lead-up to Mother’s Day devastating without my sister as well. It was a constant reminder that I was now different from my friends. In my dreams, my mum was still there; she was alive. I woke up feeling comforted, only to realise that she’d gone.”
Tomlinson, who is now 25 and a patron of the bereavement charity Sue Ryder, moves easily between telling you how to apply the best tan and how to talk about death. She cares passionately about both subjects and takes them equally seriously, worried that I’ve never tried a bronzer or used foundation before asking how I coped when my mother died during the pandemic. Her soft Yorkshire accent is both reassuring and no-nonsense.
Born near Doncaster, she was only two when Fizz was born and six when the first twins arrived. “I’ve always been the big sister — Fizz and I each got one and then more twins six years later.” While Louis had his own space, the girls all shared one room with bunk beds. “It was chaos, but my mum, Johannah, was a midwife and loved being pregnant and having so many babies,” she explains. “I used to be in awe of the way she could feed the twins at once, one on each hip. She would do the night shifts, while I held the fort at home.”
Within a few years, Tomlinson would be touring America, Asia and Europe, flying first class with Louis, part of the biggest boy band in the world, but until she was 15, the family had only ever gone to France once a year all packed into a seven-seater car, with her mother’s new partner, snacks laid out in the middle. They stayed in a caravan park. On a Sunday, a treat was to go to their mother’s hospital to see the babies.
While Louis just wanted to sing, play the guitar and listen to Oasis, the girls were obsessed with make-up. “From the age of 12, I struggled academically, but I loved cropped clothes and my mum’s highlighters and mascaras.” She learnt how to apply everything from YouTube tutorials, rather than doing algebra. “We didn’t have much money — we sometimes couldn’t afford to top up the electricity meter so used candles — but everything my mum earned she spent on us. We all looked immaculate — I remember her being horrified when I dyed my hair orange. So it was lovely later when we could treat her.”
Saturday nights were spent watching The X Factor. “My mother and brother kept applying; in 2010, he got in and the whole family went for the audition. We believed in him, but we never thought it would go that far.” One day the family were going to the live shows, the next the boy band was formed with Harry Styles, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan and Liam Payne. “He was 18. For my mum it was a big shock. It was all so sudden. The press and fans were in our front garden every day.”
The older twins had already made their first TV appearances — they sound like Doncaster’s Von Trapps. “My mother was gently pushy,” Tomlinson says, smiling at the thought. “When I didn’t get good enough GCSEs to stay at school, she sent me off to join Louis on tour as work experience. I was so scared. I remember her ringing up Lou [Teasdale], their hair and make-up artist, and saying, ‘Lottie has not got through to sixth form; she’s going to come and assist you.’ I was in the car going, ‘No, please don’t.’ But it ended up being the best thing that happened to me. I went for a week and stayed two years. Lou and I are still so close.”
Suddenly, the two eldest Tomlinson children were circling the world, eating room service and ducking the paparazzi hanging out of helicopters taking snaps. “At first Louis didn’t really want his little sister gate crashing his new rock-star life, but now it feels like the best time of our lives — we experienced that craziness together,” she says.
The teenage Tomlinson found it harder to cope with being photographed wherever she went. “I had some puppy fat which made me very self-aware, and the filler culture was coming in and I felt I had to look perfect.” She had her lips done first at 17. “Then I became addicted: cheek filler, jaw filler, more make-up, blonder hair, slimmer and more tanned. My mum thought I looked perfect, but I was always searching.”
Five years later, when she became pregnant with Lucky and her lips started to swell and crack, she realised she didn’t need the enhancements any more. “I had everything removed, the false eyelashes too. It was liberating.” She kept her boob job, however. “That was just enhancement,” she says laughing. “The rest radically changed the way I looked. My breasts also got huge when I was pregnant and it was a bit painful. But I still breastfed. I loved carrying my child. I felt fantastic even when I was sick and exhausted.”
She leans forward, wraps her bronzed arms around her stomach and whispers, “I am pregnant again. We don’t know yet if it’s a boy or girl. It’s only 13 weeks, so this is the first time I’ve said it publicly. I think I want a big family. I loved having Lucky but after a year I wanted to give him siblings.”
Tomlinson’s influencer career began once she established herself on tour. Soon everything she did, even dying her roots rainbow-coloured, went viral and fashion companies from Asos to Dior wanted in on it. “I was just going for it. I couldn’t believe the money I was making and spending — money I didn’t know existed as a child.”
Then suddenly her mum came home from holiday with flu. “She didn’t want to get out of bed. The doctors quite quickly told her she had leukaemia and she went straight to London for treatment. It all happened so fast. I remember being in London at work and getting a call from her partner — she couldn’t say the words herself, it was too hard for her.” The family were told it was treatable. “We kept so much hope.”
Her mother asked the family to keep her illness secret. “It was hard because you feel so isolated, but I understood. Louis was in the public eye and she didn’t want him questioned. She was determined to fight it and didn’t want everyone pitying her. My friends noticed I was acting differently for a few months. But I wanted to respect her wishes. It was her one request.”
She also dropped everything to go back to Doncaster to help her grandparents with the twins. “The younger ones were two and I wanted to keep everything as normal as possible. I can’t imagine what my mum was feeling leaving her kids to go to hospital.
“I would take them down and treasure seeing her — we tried to keep it light, no serious conversation. The only way Mum could cope was to keep it normal. Then, when the doctors said the transfusions hadn’t worked, she came home to die.”
Tomlinson tries to sound matter-of-fact. “We went to see her in hospital in Sheffield and the next morning we woke up and were told she had died. We felt numb. We didn’t know what to do with ourselves. Now I am involved with the Sue Ryder charity, I am surprised we were offered no support or counselling at all, from the GP, the teachers, the professionals. They all kept away.” Her nan and grandad picked up the pieces.
It’s not surprising she can’t remember the funeral. “I just remember getting really drunk to numb the pain. I couldn’t come to terms with it. I can’t even remember how we organised it. My instinct was to take over as the eldest girl and step into my mum’s shoes so that is what I did.” Meanwhile, her older brother, who was launching his solo career, ensured there was enough money. “He’s incredibly generous. We looked after each other.”
Tomlinson returned to London months later, after her grandmother said she needed to become a role model for her siblings. Her younger sister Fizz worried her most. “She was very academic — she got straight A’s without trying — but she always said she felt different. She was bottling her grief for so long; it was too much and made her turn to other things. I think Mum’s death destroyed her. Only my mum seemed to understand her. If she had been offered some help at the start, things might have been different.”
Meanwhile, Tomlinson’s self-tanning brand was soon being sold in Los Angeles, New York and Australia, while her own fanbase grew; she hardly ever needed to pay for drinks, meals or holidays. However, she finds the term influencer obnoxious. “I don’t want to act like I tell people what to do. I am more of a content creator,” she explains. “I get paid by brands to create content for their clothes or beauty products and promote that to my followers. I also wanted my own business. I was quite aware that, at the end of the day, I was just working with an app. That’s why I started Tanologist with my business partner. I was always using tanning treatments that would end up turning my sheets orange and my face would break out in spots — this is more natural.”
Louis was also forging his career as a solo artist, eventually creating the song Two of Us about his mother’s death. “We were always so proud of Louis and what he was doing. We were not going to match up to being a global superstar, but we didn’t want to — ‘successful’ looks different for everyone,” she says.
But her sister Fizz was slipping and struggling. “She was old enough to do what she wanted at 19; she was partying and taking stuff to numb everything. She did go into rehab but to me it didn’t feel like an addiction problem, but a way to blank out her grief.” When Tomlinson was invited to Bali, she asked Fizz whether she wanted her to stay behind. “She said she was OK, and then it happened while I was away,” she says. (Fizz accidentally overdosed on cocaine, an anxiety drug and painkillers, her inquest found.) “Louis called me…” She stops talking.
The shock of a second death must have been devastating. She doesn’t speak for a minute while she twists her huge diamond engagement ring. “We weren’t mentally prepared,” she eventually says. “I can’t even remember if the two funerals were in the same church. I think grief has affected my memory a lot and that’s quite common. Grief is such a powerful emotion; it takes up a lot of your brain.”
Five years later, she now knows how to remain positive. “I had an amazing mum for 18 years. I have the most amazing family, my little boy and my career, and that is because of her. The same with Fizz — I had an amazing sister. It’s heartbreaking they aren’t with us any more, but they are together and they are looking out for me,” she says, sounding as though she is repeating a mantra.
Having a baby made her feel closer to them both. “He was a boy — it’s funny, he actually looks a lot like Louis did — and I thought, this is what my mother must have felt. But then I had so many questions I couldn’t ask, even more because she was a midwife.”
Her biggest problem was her terror that something terrible would happen to her son. “I became fixated [on the idea that] something bad would happen to him, so I couldn’t sleep. You go to the worst-case scenario, because that’s happened to you twice, to two of the closest people in your life. I couldn’t turn the lights off at night; I needed to see him all the time. Luckily, it calmed down quite quickly.”
We are still flitting between her story and advice on make-up, exercise and clothes.
“I like sharing advice. If a child lost their mother, I would say there is no magic answer. But the point of this book is to show that you can have tragic things happen and still keep going.”
What would the 25-year-old now say to her younger self, struggling at her second funeral at the age of 20? “I would say, ‘You are going to be OK; you will live a nice life.’ I didn’t think I could. I thought this will be a really sad, lonely life without my mum and sister. I wouldn’t have believed then that I could be happy again. But it would have been nice to hear.”
Lucky Girl by Lottie Tomlinson (Bonnier, £22). To order a copy go to timesbookshop.co.uk. Free UK standard P&P on orders over £25. Special discount available for Times+ members
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lnfours · 11 months ago
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you are in love | l.n
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summary: the moment where you knew he was the one.
warnings: best friends to lovers au, shitty dates, language, a little bit of innuendos, and just pure, tooth rotting fluff.
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˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
you walked out of the restaurant, nails tapping against your screen as you walked on the sidewalk. there was a soft, warm breeze in the city of monaco as you stared down at your phone. your phone locked once you found somewhere to stand, out of the sight from the crowds, and specifically the guy you had left at the dinner table.
can you come get me?
it was almost ten. and if he wasn’t asleep, he was definitely doing better things with his time-
of course, where are you?
your heart pattered against your chest, your fingers moving to tell him the name of the street corner you were standing at. he had responded quickly after, saying he’d be there in five.
and he was, the mclaren pulling up besides you. he had the top open for the nighttime summer breeze to flow through. you stepped closer, opening the door and climbing in carefully before closing it behind you.
“you alright?” he asked, car still parked as he made sure he didn’t have to go back into the restaurant and give the guy a piece of his mind.
when you nodded, he let out a breath of relief, “i just really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”
he huffed out a laugh, pulling onto the road, “we could say that,” he looked back over at you as you looked out the window, “back to mine? or yours?”
you met those stupidly beautiful green eyes and you let out a shaky breath as his eyes scanned your features, “yours is fine. blair is out of town anyway, so it’s been lonely.”
“oh, yeah? where she go this time? ibiza? france?” he joked and you snorted next to him. your roommate, blair, came from money. big money. and every other weekend, she always had somewhere new to take her father’s private jet. even if it was just to visit a louis vuitton store in paris.
her frequent trips had become an inside joke to you, max and lando. so far as to where the three of you make bets on which extravagant place shes visiting every time she leaves. this week, it’s bali.
“close,” you nod, “her family’s vacationing in bali this week.”
“damn,” he mumbled, “so close.”
you both shared a soft laugh, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you as you watched the city life out the window. he couldn’t help but take occasional glances towards you, his eyes falling to the necklace sparkling around your neck.
the one he had gotten you for your most recent birthday. you had refused to accept his gift at first, immediately shaking your head when you spotted the tiffany blue box underneath the wrapping paper.
but he insisted, and now you never took it off. a silver heart engraved with a little four. a subtle detail, but a special one. some people thought he seemed ‘full of himself’ because he got you a gift with his number on it. but, you were the one who encouraged him to chase his dreams. the one who pushed him to do better, the one who never believed for a second how the media tried to paint him out to be.
because, to you, he wasn’t ’lando norris: mclaren formula one driver with a sassy attitude who’s full of himself’, to you he was just ‘lando: the boy you’ve known your entire life, who knew everything about you, and the boy who would pick you up after a shitty date’.
at the end of the day, it was always the two of you against anything and everything. two peas in a pod, as cisca would say.
the two of you got to his apartment, his key unlocking the door and pushing it open. once you got inside, you kicked your heels off by the door as he made his way into the kitchen.
“do you still have those makeup wipes i left here?” you asked.
he nodded, reaching into one of the cupboards as he grabbed the white mug with little yellow stars on it. your mug.
“should be in the top drawer in the bathroom with your toothbrush and hairbrush,” he said, turning back to you, “want a coffee?”
you nodded, letting out a soft sigh, “please. milk and two-“
“two sugars,” he smiled softly, “i know.”
you smiled back at him before turning and walking down the hallway to his bedroom. when you entered, you took in the view of his freshly made bed and the hamper in the corner being empty. a sign that he had done his laundry and cleaned the house today.
you hummed softly, opening the closet door and thumbing through the different hoodies he had. you settled on an older mclaren one, the same one he had lent you a few years back when you were crying on his couch.
you also snagged a pair of sweatpants while you were in there, changing into them and placing your dress on his dresser. making a mental note to take it with you when he takes you home in the morning.
once you had taken your makeup off in the bathroom, you made your way back to the living room where he was sitting on the couch, phone in hand as he held his mug. you sat next to him, your mug on the table next to you. you took it into your hands, smiling over the rim.
“thank you,” you said.
“‘course,” he smiled, locking his phone and picking up the remote, “what episode were we on before we fell asleep the other night? i don’t remember,”
you looked over at the tv in front of you, now noticing he had the show the two of you had been watching pulled up. you twisted your lips in thought.
“uhm, i think six? maybe seven?” you said, he clicked on six and after a few seconds you realized the two of you had guessed correctly.
at some point during the show, your head had ended up on his shoulder. his arm had pulled you closer into him, taking in the smell of his cologne and the shampoo he used. a scent you had grown to love, to look forward to every time he wrapped his arms around you to give you a hug, or whenever you were close enough to him to pick up on it.
at some point you had zoned out, thinking to yourself. maybe the reason all these dates hadn’t worked out was because they all lacked something. something no one else had other than lando, the boy who knew you like the back of his hand.
you shifted, moving to look at the boy with curly brown hair, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the tv. you took in the beauty marks that freckled his face, the ones he used to complain about when he was younger, but you always said it was your favorite thing.
maybe it wasn’t the fact that lando knew you like the back of your hand that turned you away from all the other men who’d swipe right on you. maybe it was the fact that they weren’t him.
you didn’t know when, but somehow you had fallen in love with the boy next to you. i mean, who could blame you? he was everything you could ever dream of, the perfect man.
he turned and met your eyes, his face inches from yours now. you smiled softly, his lips turning up in return. his eyes scanned yours and you took in a nervous breath when his eyes traveled to your lips.
“i’m sorry that date didn’t work out for you,” he said softly, “these guys really don’t know what they’re missing out on.”
you shrugged, “it’s okay,” your heart was hammering against your chest, questioning silently to yourself if he could hear it.
he couldn’t, but he could tell when he scanned your face that you didn’t really seem all that upset. he wasn’t really sorry, either, to be fair. it might’ve seemed selfish, but he always anticipated your ‘can you come get me?’ texts whenever he knew you were going out. he prayed the dates would fail, so he could finally be the one to take you out and do it properly. give you that fairytale kind of love you deserve.
he blurted out before his mind could even filter it, “can i tell you something?”
you hummed. fuck, there was no going back now.
“i’m kind of glad those dates haven’t worked out.”
you furrowed your eyebrows in question, “why’s that?”
“because i want to be the one to take you out,” his voice was soft and it sent your heart right into your throat, “all the fancy dinners, the kissing goodnight at the doorstep, all of it.”
his eyes traveled back to your lips and you sucked in a breath, “can i tell you something too?”
he nodded, his face centimeters away from yours now. your warm breath fanned his face, the smell of your perfume and the hair product you had put in hours beforehand captivating him.
“i want all of that with you, too.” you smiled and he grinned back, a soft laugh leaving both of your lips. he reached up, his hand lifting your chin.
“you sure you want to be stuck with me?” he asked, “cause once i start, i don’t think i could stop.”
your nose brushed against his, “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
that was all it took until his lips were pressing against yours. you kissed him back, the hand that wasn’t holding your jaw reaching to your hip and pulling you closer, leaving no room between you as you climbed into his lap.
your hands threaded through the curls on the nape of his neck, his arms wrapping around you. a moment of complete bliss, the moment you’ve been waiting for for what felt like ages.
“lets go to bed, yeah?”
you nodded back, nose bumping his as your face wore a smile. he stood from the couch, hands supporting your thighs before letting your legs wrap around his torso. he carried you down the hallway, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
he placed you down on the mattress, the two of you entangling limbs underneath the sheets. he played with the soft strands of your hair, his lips pressing against the top of your head as you listened to his heart beat against his ribs. existing in complete contentment with each others company.
“breakfast in the morning?” he asked softly.
you thought about it for a minute, turning to look at him. it was dark, but you could still make out his face, “sure, just as long as you don’t burn the toast.”
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thewholecrew · 4 months ago
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@headstrongblake said: [ shoulder ] a tender kiss on the partner's shoulder & [ massage ] sender giving receiver a shoulder massage to tend to their sore muscles / nick & kass
it was late when they finally made it home from the airport and kassy slowly roused at the feeling of nick's car pulling into the driveway. she let out a soft and sleepy sigh, resting her head still gently against the window before she heard nick's door open and close quietly followed by the clunk of the trunk. lashes fluttered, heart warming at the realization that nick was trying to be quiet and not wake her yet as she watched him bring their luggage to the front door. a small, private smile spread across her lips before she slowly straightened and stretched.
she was standing beside the car when nick returned for the last of their luggage, or rather kassy's when he offered her that handsome grin. "were you planning on leaving me in there all night?" kassy teased, watching as he hoisted the last few bags over his shoulder. of course not, you just looked peaceful and thought i'd let you sleep a little longer. she knew that yet still hearing it had her dark eyes shine as she joined beside him while they headed inside. her arm slid around his waist as his did her shoulders and she leaned her head against his side, "what a gentleman," she praised with a playful tone. for you, always.
she thanked him for bringing in all the luggage, helping roll one of her bags back into his bedroom. she paused at the closet though with a small tired pout as she realized she'd have to go through it to get her bathroom necessities to get ready for bed. what's that look for? nick inquired with a smirk as he dropped the rest of the bags off and kassy glanced over at him, shoulders slouching tiredly, "i have to get out all my skincare and bathroom stuff...." she murmured still with a bit of a pout, watching with a raised brow as he chuckled and knelt down. in this one? he asked as he laid her suitcase down to open it. she nodded as she moved behind him, looping her arms over his shoulders to lean against his back.
with her chin resting on her arm, kassy looked down over his shoulder, hands smoothing along his chest as he sifted through her suitcase to pull out her bathroom and skincare bag. "mmmm, thank you, you're the best," she hummed happily, turning her head to kiss his cheek with a sleepy nuzzle before taking them and stepping back. "i'm gonna take a shower..." she then told him with a look of invitation, trailing her nails along his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom. after a long flight and trip home she was ready for a hot shower, clean pjs and to curl up in freshly clean sheets which she had suggested to do before they left so they'd be lovely to come back to.
undressing and stepping into the shower a soft sigh escaped her, eyes closing as she let the hot water wash over her only to feel nick join in behind her not much longer after. she shivered, feeling his hands on her hips and slide up her sides, a pleased hum escaped her at the feeling before his arms wrapped around her front. she smiled at the soft kiss to her shoulder, hand cupping the side of his face as his lips trailed up along her neck. "are you glad to be back?" she asked him quietly, keeping her eyes closed as she enjoyed the attention he was giving her. she shivered as he brushed her braids to the side, murmuring his response against her ear and her smile grew.
his hand lingered on her shoulder, the other then raising to the opposite one as he began to gently massage the tense muscles. she would definitely miss the skilled massages she got back in bali but his were a close second as another pleased hum escaped her, head tilting back as his calloused hands got to work easing the knots the tension of the trip home had caused her. "wow, even after my birthday i still get treatment like this?" she teased, appreciation and desire began to leak into her tone. it wasn't as if he was really treating her any differently than before her birthday if she was honest, usually the perfect gentleman, for the most part.
as much as she missed having her own space, how much effort and time she had put into decorating her condo, nick had done everything he could to help her feel welcome here, to help her feel like she was home here with him. slowly, she turned towards him, looking up as water trickled down their bodies, the water misting around them as her hands rested on his chest. "thank you," she told him quietly, more genuinely without any teasing or playfulness in her tone. she had thanked him countless times after he'd come to her rescue, after he held her through the most violent nightmares she'd ever had, through the tears and panic attacks, but she couldn't hep herself. he was beyond good to her.
kassy's arms slid around him then, hugging him tightly as her eyes closed and she rested her head against his chest. as his arms tightened around her as well, embracing her, she smiled privately to herself, wondering when and how this man had become such a core necessity to her life.
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knarangg · 8 months ago
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HANU-MAN ( 2024 )
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The movie had its ups & downs but it's ending was just so satisfying that I finished it on a high note. The movie had an average production quality but keeping the budget in mind, Prasanth Varma has done a good job.
Although the screenplay of the movie feels abrupt at many places but the vibe was maintained through it. And the VFX was not the best but it can be passed looking at the budget. Hell, even 700 crores movies is below this.
Although the movie lacked a good antagonist. Although he was shown as dominating, the character lacked soul. And the color palette of the movie needed some improvement. The red colour was too much bright throughout the movie.
But the movie does an excellent job in reminding me of my childhood superhero, the OG - Hanuman ji. In this world of Batman & Spider-Man, Bajrang Bali will always be my hero. And that's how I felt connected to the movie.
Coming to my favourite part, the Ending. As a director, you have to land the ending no matter how the movie was & Prasanth Varma nailed it. The movie peaked there. That scene with Hanuman Chalisa in the background was just EPIC.
Watching that scene for first time, I stood up & sang the Hanuman Chalisa along the movie with a smile on my face throughout. Thats the reaction a movie should get out of you. And I watched that scene 2-3 times more in the same manner.
And with that, Prasanth Varma has set up a great sequel. Jai Hanuman hold so much potential & this time, with even bigger budget. To conclude, the movie have its flaws but no doubt it's a great effort & we are gonna see a big improvement next time!!
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headstrongblake · 11 months ago
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[ DELAY ] one muse is trying to get ready to go somewhere while the other keeps kissing them and unbutton/unzipping their clothes. / kass & nick / @thewholecrew
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his phone had already gone off twice by the time nick sat on the bottom end of the bed, pushing his arms through his black button-up. although he always does his best not to disrupt kassy while she sleeps, he has to leave for work by the time it nears late morning. especially now that jasper's pestering him with call after call. it's been like this ever since they got back from bali. one little week away and it all goes to hell.
a lazy smile warms his features, feeling kassy shifting in bed before he heard her stretch and her cute little yawns. "sorry sweetheart, i'm gettin' called in," he murmured over his shoulder as she got closer, humming quietly as her hands smoothed around his sides. "i shouldn't be gone long, i'm sure whatever they messed up is a quick fix." his fingers worked at closing his buttons, starting at the bottom before going up his shirt. however, kassy's exploring hands distracted him, pulling his attention as she tried to peel his shirt off his shoulders. his smirk widened as he turned slightly toward her. "c'mon kass, i'll be back before your afternoon nap," he winked, teasing her as he returned to his shirt.
however, her soft lips pressed against the base of his neck, pulling a pleased yet frustrated sigh as she continued along his skin. "you're relentless," he pointed out. not that he minded exactly. whatever jasper was calling about couldn't be life or death, if it were, bellamy or grant's name would've popped up by now. if it were serious...he'd know. he's always been good at telling kassy no. especially when he'd rather refer to her as trouble, but his follow-through needed much work. too often, too easily he gave in to kassy's teases. by now, he'd stopped buttoning his shirt, anticipation and desire flaming through him as kassy's hands slipped inside his shirt, nails raking over skin.
"i guess i could be a little later," he smirked, turning to capture her lips in a passionate show of his desire to stay with her. work could easily wait. while her hands continued to explore him, he groaned against her lips as his need to have her grew. but just as he went to hastily unbutton his shirt again, kassy pulled back from him, flashing that chesire smile at him as she left him on the bed. brows furrowed, curiosity soaring through him before, "you should get going, wouldn't want you to be late now would we?"
no! her words crashed over him as his eyes widened slightly. "you..." he smirked, shaking his head as he rose from his bed, fingers doing up his buttons once more as he wandered to her standing near the doorway now. "there is a little bit of devil in you, you know?" he asked to her playful grin before he pressed a kiss to her hair, "i'm comin' back for all this..." he murmured against her, shaking his head with a smile before he headed out the bedroom door.
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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 2 years ago
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1k Fics Masterlist
A Game of Proposal (ao3) - imaginativecurls michael/calum G
Summary: Calum couldn’t figure out how to propose to Michael, so he settles for the laziest option. He’s going to see how long it takes Michael to notice an engagement ring on his finger when he wakes up from a nap.
A sweet kiss from your strawberry lips (ao3) - livefastdiehung ot4 N/R
Summary: Luke’s lip gloss tastes like strawberries, he wants his boys to know it.
Beside You (ao3) - iCheeseYou (EHkook) michael/luke G
Summary: Michael sneaks into Luke's room while the blond is sleeping just so he can lie beside him.
can i tell you a secret? (ao3) - prophecygrl michael/calum T
Summary: “You’re so pretty, Calum,” Michael slurred. As always, Michael was the first one to get completely shit faced at the party. “Thanks, Mikey. So are you,” Calum sighed, holding Michael upright so he didn’t face plant. “No, like, really pretty. Your lips are probably the prettiest,” Michael said.
Complete Mess (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton E
Summary: Ashton looked amazing. Ashton always looked amazing but right now, Luke couldn’t think because of how good he looked. Ashton had decided leather pants were the best move for tonight, leather pants that wrapped around his thigh oh so nicely.
He couldn’t handle the sight of Ashton. Every time they saw him, they needed to do something.
Ashton wasn’t helping, the permanent smile on his face had turned into something to tease Luke.
or how not to do a late night performance
Feeling This (ao3) - stelleshine michael/luke E
Summary: Luke loves being in Bali, except for one thing. He can’t have alone time with Michael, and it hurts because Michael is so beautiful.
I’ll be there, time and place (ao3) - jbhmalum michael/calum T
Summary: Calum gets home from work to a sick Michael. He takes care of them.
i want your midnights (ao3) - bellawritess luke/ashton, michael/calum T
Summary: Luke maintains that truth or dare is a dumb game. Michael says he’s just a buzzkill, which might be true, but it doesn’t mean Luke is wrong. Truth or dare is dumb.
This is, unfortunately, the unpopular opinion of the people at this New Year’s party, so here they are anyway, in a circle on the floor, playing it.
just dance (gonna be okay) (ao3) - kingscrossinseptember michael/luke T
Summary: Michael doesn’t have the fear of elevators falling that so many of his fellow college students have. He understands why the fear comes from; elevators are small and there is the possibility of getting trapped in one, even though it would most likely be for a very short amount of time. But Michael’s done his research and knows that it’s practically impossible for modern elevators to go into free-fall, and he’s pretty sure that considering how many people an elevator is designed to hold, it’d be very hard for anything he does while alone to have an effect. So, whenever he finds himself alone in an elevator while listening to music, he’s more than happy to use the opportunity to have a mini dance party.
Kisses For Everyone (ao3) - The_Lady ot4 T
Summary: That blonde boy keeps kissing a bunch of different guys. Hallie's getting a little worried for his boyfriend.
or ot4 from the pov of a girl who does not know they're a polycule.
lay low in our lazy luxury (ao3) - bellawritess michael/calum T
Summary: “Maximum comfort,” they explain, completely misinterpreting the sceptical look on Calum’s face.
Calum pries the last waffle off the iron and settles it atop the stack on the plate. “I wasn’t wondering about the jumpers, you idiot, I’m wondering why Monopoly was your choice. Are you trying to break up with me?”
Michael laughs. “It’ll be fun!”
(let me be) your teddy bear (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton G
Summary: Luke tapped his nails against the glass counter, the cinnamon sugar mix covering his apron. He was bored, the mall was empty and he had to stay there even if it was deserted.
or a build-a-bear/auntie anne's au
Live Like This Forevermore (ao3) - FayeHunter luke/ashton T
Summary: Luke and Ashton spent a lazy morning together
Mile High (ao3) - lovelylarry (leeanndarling) michael/ashton N/R
Summary: Michael teases Ashton and gets him hard before their 15 hour flight home. Ashton doesn’t appreciate it one bit.
(But Michael takes care of him on the plane because he’s a loving boyfriend like that)
New Years Day (ao3) - no_clue_who luke/ashton T
Summary: Ashton knew throwing a New Years eve party was so fucking cliché, but he wanted to cap off an incredible year with a celebration that showed everyone how incredible the year had been. They’d finished their next album, Luke and him finally figured themselves out and he had gotten better.
Or how not to throw a New Years eve party
permanent jet lag (ao3) - kingscrossinseptember michael/luke G
Summary: Meanwhile, Luke had tried sitting in practically every position he could in his cramped airplane seat and, as far as Michael knew, had yet to drift off for more than a couple minutes at a time. Michael glanced over to see Luke burrowing his face into Ashton’s shoulder. His neck was bent at an awkward angle and he was more hunched over than Quasimodo. To put it simply: he looked like crap.
Plaid Shirts and Morning Kisses (ao3) - beendreaminglikeafool michael/luke T
Summary: Luke wears one of Michael’s plaid shirts.
special (ao3) - orphan_account calum/ashton N/R
Summary: ashton finds calum sleeping on a park bench, so he takes him home and makes him feel special
there's glitter on the floor after the party - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) michael/ashton T
Summary: The aftermath of Michael and Ashton's first new year's eve party as a married couple.
Win or lose I'm screwed (Malum) (ao3) - petalrock michael/calum T
Summary: “We’re not dying,” Calum says, not looking up from where he’s tightening the straps on his armor. It’s a nervous habit. His armor is on perfectly fine, but Michael knows better than to say anything; Calum will just get all red and flustered. Actually, Michael kind of does want to say something. “And if we did, we’re not becoming ghosts. We’re probably ending up in the Fields of Asphalt, or whatever.”
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aetherbeautybali · 3 months ago
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opulentbali · 1 month ago
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Luxury Beauty Treatments at Opulent Beauty Salon in Bali
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aweecrush · 3 years ago
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Prologue
Tuesday, October 16th 2007
“Jesus, I can’t believe you’re actually in the fucking plane - took you long enough! If I had known it took a wedding to get your arse back home, I would have had a couple by now, for God’s sake .”
“Michelle, you promised you wouldn’t start! ” Clare’s reproachful voice rose.
“Aye, first, I didn’t promise shit, and second, I told you, she’s not chickening out so chill out - right Erin?”
Despite the culpability and shame pricking at her skin, her heart warmed at their traditional bickering she wished she’d hear more often. At their voices. And, most of all, at knowing that in a few hours, she’d get to hear them for real.
Feck, she’d missed these eejits.
“Well, I’m not actually in the plane yet, we’re waiting to board. And then I still have that stupid long flight, and then the stupid long wait at stupid London, so don’t wait up - but yes, I’m definitely on my way,” she promised, earning herself an earful of high pitched cackles and happy swears.
Her heart welled up.
“So, how is the bride doing? She wasn’t home when I called earlier, and all Mammy could talk about was how the caterer was driving her crazy and how aunt Sarah almost set her own hair on fire trying a new hairdo she’d like to nail for the ceremony.”
Michelle snorted. “ Yeah, hilarious so it was. You should have seen your dad’s face, mental. ”
“It was terrifying,” Clare corrected, apparently still shaken.
Then, perked up. “Orla’s going to look so cute though - I can’t wait for you to see the dress!” Erin tried to ignore the sting of not having been there for such an important moment.
“We’re still trying to convince her out of drawing anything on it, but I’m not sure we’ll win this one, to be honest. Also, we’ve got everything almost ready to go for the bachelorette party, although I do need you to help me stop Michelle from bringing the tons of drugs she wants to, because - ”
“For feck’s sake Clare, Orla would love it! The girl is tying the knot, she deserves to get properly shit faced.”
“She said she wanted something small!”
“She said she would have liked to have a little something with just the five of us the night before. She never said anything about the actual bachelorette party being small - or fucking boring for that matter!”
“Just the five of us?”
The words spilled out before she could stop them, stupid that she was. At the other end of the line, the girls went uncharastically silent, and Erin cursed herself.
Feck.
“I mean, that’s grand. It’s cool, I thought it was just going to be one big night for the bachelorette party before the big day, but - I mean, that’s even better! Grand - cool.”
Christ on a bike, that was pathetic. She was.
“Yeah...The thing is, Orla wanted a wee night with just us Derry girls the night before the bachelorette party, hanging at the bar and stuff you know, because - Well, just because.” Poor Clare was rambling now, in a typical panicked Clare kind of way. “And we thought - Well, then we thought about it, and it turns out it’s not going to work, just timing-wise and stuff, so - “
“So the point is we dropped it.”
“Right. Yep.”
Again, silence, only betrayed by the hammering in her chest that she hoped her friends wouldn’t hear over her cellphone.
“Oh okay, well - that’s a shame.” Her casual slash over the top fake disappointment tone did nothing to help convince anyone, of course, herself included. She winced.
She promised herself it wasn’t going to be like this, though. She wasn’t going to ruin this for anyone - not a chance.
For God’s sake, catch yourself on Erin.
Pushing all dangerous thoughts aside, Erin took a deep breath. “In any case, I’m sure it’ll all be fine - really fine.”
There were another few seconds of silence, and she could just picture the worried look they were sharing - probably very similar to the one they had that particular, fateful day. To the one they had again when she told them she was moving away. Then -
“You bet it’ll be fine - feck, it will be absolutely brilliant is what it is! Wait til you see my dress, Erin - my tits look amazing in it.”
*
As it turned out, running all over the city for work for the past ten days and dangerously flirting with the limits of sleep deprivation did have a perk: her whole, eight hours flight, Erin slept like a log.
(Truth was, she could have done without the look of contempt and the ‘Miss? You have drool on your face’ from that stupid flight attendant who woke her up when they landed, but still - all in all, it went well.)
The wait at Stansted airport, however, was pure hell.
Because of the jitters, mostly.
Growing up, despite how much she loved to complain about them, Erin had never actually considered living away from her family. Well, not that far, at least - she’d always known she would leave Derry after high school, which they did, and it was glorious. War or not, she had a pretty nice life as a child and then a teenager, but those college years and the first ones that had followed - they were the best of her life.
Still, it was only Belfast at the time, and Belfast was a two hours drive from home. Erin knew that at some point, she wanted to go out in the world, maybe live abroad for a while, but this - New-York, all on her own, away for so long? She hadn’t planned that. Didn’t, really - it all went so fast, in the end.
It was a good thing too, because if she had stopped and thought about it for too long, she wasn’t sure she would have gone through with it.
(Then again, what else could she have done?)
Despite her dreams, and her need for independence, and her eagerness to see the world, Erin had never thought that she’d leave her family for that far, for that long. Orla had come to see her once, thank goodness, but Jesus -
On the last picture her Ma had sent her, Anna had grown so much, she almost looked like a wee woman. She’d forgotten the exact colour of that lipstick aunt Sarah wore all the time, she couldn’t remember each wrinkle on Granda’s beautiful face like she used to, and sometimes, she was afraid she was forgetting her Da’s smell and what her Ma’s voice sounded like in real life. She’d missed them so much, it hurt (a lot, often).
She just couldn’t wait any longer to get back to that crazy bunch, and those last, endless few hours? Torture so it was.
She was half considering starting to work on her next article to pass the time when across from her, Erin spotted a young couple bickering, their luggages next to their seats. She was a beautiful thing, red hair tied in a messy bun, and his brown curls fell above his forehead, all messed up.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could make out their accents. He looked like he was trying to make her smile, leaning over so he could kiss her, and she was doing everything she could not to laugh, weakly trying to escape his arms around hers, her pretense wavering with every second.
They were probably in their early twenties, just out of uni or something. They looked happy.
Her chest tightened, and suddenly, Erin felt the urge to cry.
Well, that was quick.
Shite. Shite shite shite.
It was okay, though - it was all fine. She knew herself by now - she was emotional as heck most days of the year (crazy, her Ma would say), but the day of her returning back home, with accumulated fatigue and an Atlantic crossing flight in her feet? Of course she'd get misty eyed at the first occasion. At anything, this just happened to be what, because they were very cute and - it was a coincidence, nothing more.
It was nothing.
The girl laughed, though, giving him a small slap over the head before she let him nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. She brushed his forehead with her lips, a soft smile on them, and kept talking.
It was difficult, then, not to think about another time, another long wait, at the Bali airport this time. It was difficult, not to think about another English fella with wild, brown curls.
It was impossible, really, not to think about him.
Memories of a perfect trip came flooding back, of burnt skin and drunken smiles, of blue waters and green eyes. The tickles of the sun, the softness of his fingers over her exposed neck, her naked arms. Sweaty bodies pressed together during hot nights, slow breathes, so many new sights discovered, fingers intertwined.
Sometimes, the memory of his face hidden against her neck was so vivid, she could almost feel it. Just like she did now.
Her breath caught.
Sweet suffering Jesus.
Experience had taught her that she had to stop now - needed to, really, before her mind wandered to anything more. To everything else, every little thing that could, and would, make her heart ache even more than it already did.
(That’s another thing she’d found out: as it happened, the expression “heartbreak” wasn’t, in fact, an overly dramatic turn of words. Quite accurately descriptive it was, actually.
She often wondered when hers would stop feeling like it had been ripped into a million little pieces, but she was starting to lose faith that it ever would.)
Of course, she should have seen it coming, she knew that. She had, in fact. True to herself, she’d tried to ignore it, but she knew full well that with her coming back home, it would come back.
This painful, sneaky way every little thing seemed to remind her of before - of a life that felt so far away now.
Over the months, the many months since she’d been gone, she’d gotten it almost under control. Everyday life brought its distractions, particularly in a city like New-York: running between brunches and dinners, partying with her cool American friends, writing for a newspaper in the Big Apple, it was easy, forgetting what you wanted to, if only for so long. She was becoming a real life city girl, a full time one, and that was exactly what her busy brain - her treacherous heart - needed.
With time, every sight, every sound, every smell no longer reminded her of home - the place, the person. With time, she’d moved on.
Yes, sometimes - often - she’d wavered, but that was normal: having been close to someone meant that they lived with you forever, she couldn’t help that. At some point, it would just die down enough that she’d just be able to call it the past without her insides hurting.
(She thought it would, with Matt. Maybe not with the others before him, they were just passing through - but with him, she thought it would. She couldn’t really explain how it all made the permanent weight on her chest even heavier instead, somehow.)
But it hadn’t died down yet, and even though it was normal and okay and to be expected, six weeks ago, Erin had booked her tickets, and six weeks ago, she had lost the grip over the carefully built barriers she’d made sure to rise in the meantime for - well, self-preservation, really.
It started small. The song that had played this one special night, resonating through Starbucks as she waited for her drink. That sweatshirt her colleague bought one day that reminded her of another one. That scarf in the store that looked so much like Doctor Who’s.
But then...Then, it was every day, every damn day, just like the beginning - even worse, if she was being honest. Up until yesterday, when she boarded that damn plane.
Up until now, in this stupid airport where she didn’t want to cry.
Arms tightened around her own chest, Erin willed herself not to, even though it was becoming evident that there was no ignoring the memories and the aching now. Even though, just like she feared, it was becoming perfectly clear that there was no escaping anymore, no pretending that she wasn’t the worst person in this Goddamn country, that the worst hadn’t happened.
Even though she could feel the fear mixed with longing and excitement and dread and a million other emotions that had painfully, permanently taken residence in her stomach now that she was home.
(That had taken roots there ever since the day she left, so it did.)
Shite.
Sitting back up, Erin shook herself. No, no, no, no - she could do this.
She’d grown, she’d prepared herself. She’d even planned what to say if...She was ready. Responsable, mature, and ready. And she won’t have to face this alone.
In a few hours, she was going to see the people who raised her. In a couple of days, wee Orla was getting married. She’d come up with excuses after excuses not to come home, even for Christmas - babbling something about being overloaded with work even though it made her heart ache to know she’ll be alone for the holidays for the first time in her life. Even though she knew full well her Ma didn’t buy a single word, very aware of the real reason she was staying away. She didn’t say a single word, though, and Erin was grateful.
No more, though.
For months and months, Erin had found reasons to stay away for the exact reasons that were chipping away at her heart more and more by the second, but now her baby cousin was getting married, and she’d see her family, and they’ll hold her close, and she’ll find a way to bury all the stuff that was so, so much more difficult to ignore now that she was coming home.
Maybe - maybe it will be difficult, but they’ll be here to help her through it. She’ll be there for her family, and they’ll be here for her.
Fighting the urge to reach out for the folded photograph in her wallet (the one that brought so much comfort and so much else she’d rather avoid at the same time, the one she clinged to but pretended she didn’t), Erin just breathed, and moved to change seats.
Everything would be fine, in the end. It will be grand.
*
Except her family didn’t come.
No one did.
It was eight thirty in the morning, and, her cellphone penibly stuck between her ear and shoulder as she struggled to zip her jacket to protect herself from the freezing cold, Erin tried to swallow her disappointment.
“Aye I’m sorry love, it looks like you’re going to have to get a cab,” her Ma announced before yelling something at her Granda in the distance.
Erin couldn’t help but notice the fact that she didn’t seem that sorry, not at all in fact. “Your Da was going to come get you, but there’s a problem of some kind where the reception is, and he had to take Orla.”
Erin nodded, even though her Ma couldn’t see her. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just - ”
“We’ll give you the money back for the cab when you arrive. Alright, I gotta go love, we’re checking the hair accessories for the big day - see you in a bit.” And with that, she hung up.
Well.
Here went her big welcome home, eh.
Again, it was nothing, though, she reasoned. She was a grown up now, of course she understood that something had come up, and that this all delayed their big reunion from only an hour, tops. So really, there was no reason to get upset.
None.
She wished she wasn’t getting upset.
From what she told her, Clare would be putting together gift bags now, and there was absolutely no doubt that Michelle was still snoring. Pocketing her cell as best as she could, Erin bit the inside of her cheek and started looking for the only plan B she had left, ignoring the burning in her eyes. It really was nothing - she’ll be fine.
It didn’t matter that she took forever to get a cab, for some reason, or that her luggage fell over her foot when they tried to put it in the truck, or that her handbag crashed on the floor and spilled everywhere.
Erin did know she tended to be over dramatic - and yes, maybe borderline crazy, Ma wasn't completely wrong - but she was more mature now, so instead of getting riled up, instead of being crushed by the fact that her family didn’t seem to have missed her as much as she did them, and that the land she grew up on was sending her sign after sign that she wasn’t welcomed back, Erin breathed.
Instead of being violently overwhelmed by memories at every corner of the place she’d grown up in, the place where they met and it all began, she did - she tried to breathe, slowly, carefully, squeezing her scarf in her hand a little too tight.
(That was another thing about your close ones not coming to get you at the airport after you left your country to run away: there wasn’t much to distract you from the memories you were running away from.)
She wouldn’t cry. She was just tired, and being stupid, and she wasn’t coming home with puffy red eyes - no way.
They passed the mall they all used to hang out at, and her throat tightened so much, it felt like the air had left the inside of the car. She saw the movie theater he was always so eager to bring her to in the distance, and a familiar pang of missing shot through her chest. Her heart twisted that particular way when they drove by the hiding spot of their early days, but even though she wondered how she was still holding her tears, she did.
After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up her street, and Erin hadn’t shed one silly tear. She’d done it. She could do it.
By the time she pushed their small barrier and started for the couple of stairs, all Erin wanted was to collapse into bed and black out. Orla and Da wouldn’t be home, Ana would probably still be asleep, and given the day and time, Grandda would have gone for his walk. She’d give a big hug to Ma and Aunt Sarah, pretext a headache, and go lie down.
As she struggled to get her bags through the door while keeping the damn thing open, Erin shouted, cursing herself at how strangled her voice sounded. “I’m home!”
Finally managing to get everything and herself inside, she collapsed on the wall behind her, only now taking in the wallpaper, the coat hangers, the shoes by the entry.
Damn - she was home.
The emotion was so striking, she didn’t quite have the time to stop the tears from welling up in her yes, taken by surprise.
She moved before it all became too much and shrugged off her coat, feeling her insides warm at the familiar surroundings, and yet her heart ache at not having the usual voices that went with it, the faces that she wanted so much to see. She shouted again, but there was still no response.
Ma and aunt Sarah must have had something to do, then. It was fine, she thought as she pushed the living door open. It was, she’d just grab a glass of water and -
“SURPRISE!”
And just like that, Saturday Night started playing from somewhere, overcoming the shouting and the party whistles that had broken the silence so suddenly, Erin had jumped out, her back hitting doorframe behind her. There was colours and and noise and arms waving in every direction, and Erin vaguely realized that she was covered in confetti that matched the balloons and the hats.
Somehow, she noticed that they all had one: Michelle, up on the sofa, Clare, jumping in place at the other side of the room, Orla and the giant teddy bear she was holding. Anna, her pink one stuck on top of her mass of blond hair. Aunt Sarah and Grandda, both holding hands and arboring the same green one. Her Ma, her Da, tears in their eyes, huge grins on their faces, red and yellow ones falling over.
Her brain had stopped functionning, so she couldn't be sure, but Erin thought that her legs were giving out.
Before they did, though, both her parents closed the distance and hugged her close, whispering things she couldn't quite make sense of just yet. Their voices in her ear, their smell surrounding her, Erin broke her promise to herself, and finally let the tears come flooding as she held them back as close as she could.
She was home.
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mc-critical · 4 years ago
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Valide: "You once asked me what's the difference between you and Hürrem. I'll tell you the most important one - Hürrem acts with her own mind, but you act with other people's minds."
I'm sorry, guys, I know it's a badass scene, I know it's an epic smackdown, I can only guess how much people have been waiting for this one moment perhaps since the beginning, but narratively, the whole thing grinds my gears.
Now, I'm not saying that what Valide says here is entirely wrong: in fact, I think given which portion of the series this is in, she hit the nail on the head. Seeking help from people in need is one of the core traits of Mahidevran's character in S01/2. When she feels she's losing, when she's powerless against the circumstances, going to Valide, Ibrahim or Hatice is her first (and often only) resort. Because she has to face the loss of something so remarkable and so important in her life, someone she thought loved her, someone who she's spent so much of her time with. It's hard, and it took her very long to completely burn the bridge. And in this struggle, she sought help, she thought she couldn't do it alone. And for the core of the statement, there indeed have been times where Mahidevran used the influence of others to achieve her own goal (telling Valide for Hürrem's crown, telling Hatice to marry Nigar to Matrakçi etc.) and it is a fitting statement for this part of her S02B arc: she has gotten her utmost, here even overbearing confidence from Mustafa (E46: "When I left, I thought everything was over, that I was defeated. But now when I came back with Mustafa, I feel like I was reborn."; her behavior the entire episode; E50: "I won't do anything that endangers Mustafa's future.") and she is more than willing to use the power she gets from being his mother (E48: "I'll destroy you with the power I get from my prince!"), now that he's already grown, she's willing to destroy them all, to finally get what she deserves, be where she belongs.
However, this scene, or rather the content of it, lacks the narrative and thematic context necessary for it to be serviceable and it only looks like forced fanservice as a result.
- There is no scene in the entire show where Mahidevran ever asks what's the difference between her and Hürrem. It takes away from the impact, because if they put a scene like this, in say, E45 (but honestly, any other episode will work.), despite of the complaint I'll make in a while, they would get the golden chance to call it back and make a decent connection between the two scenes. But unfortunately, this isn't the case and they have nothing to call back to, which is why it makes all this look like something the writers pulled out of their sleeves all of the sudden, out of absolutely nowhere.
- It is totally OOC for Mahidevran to ask something like this in the first place. She knows very well what's different with Hürrem, she herself makes a difference between both of them from the very beggining to the very end. She considers herself superior to her (E08: "Who are you? I'm a Haseki. Haseki Sultana. You'll show me respect.", E10: "How dare you compare an upstart concubine with a Sultana?", E11: "How do you even call yourself a Sultana? Know your place!", E44: "Who do you think you're kicking out?", E55: "I would be careful of my words if I were you. Because your fate is now in my hands."- by memory), taking her a long while to even admit she was a Sultana (she started doing so by.. S02B? and began to openly call her such only by S03); better than her (constantly calling her a snake, a devil, E53: "This woman is a devil! What things get into her head?" or something like that), and most importantly, acknowledges very well how she breaks the tradition and treats it as unprecedented and rogue. (E40 when Hü said she was freed: "How can that be?"; E45: "How dare she speak to me about tradition?") Even if she could've wondered what was so special to her in the beginning of the show, no, she didn't, she asked Hatice how can that be in E02, but not how Hürrem got into his heart exactly, it was rather how could Süleiman do this when Mahidevran loved only him. She was sad he was replacing her with "a russian slave". She from the beginning and Valide by E45 were even sure that Hürrem had bewitched Süleiman. Mahi, not even once, began to wonder what is it about Hürrem. She had a clear answer on her mind from day one and she always considered her imprudent and fierce and later, an active danger for her son. So, Mahidevran asking such a question in any point of the series, even offscreen, is.. not like her.
- Valide had no reason to bring the "you act with other people's minds" up in the context of the episode. Valide was mad at Mahidevran for her declaring herself a Valide Sultana and being ready kill Hürrem's kids. Her blaming Aybige for her affair with Bali Bey was only the last straw, not the entire reason. And what Mahidevran did in the episode, wasn't dictated by someone else. She didn't even use anyone else to say and do it, either. These words were all hers, the actions were all hers. She proposed to Mustafa, as well as Ibrahim to be with her in that path, but none of them agreed. The only one who wanted to move on was her. She was alone here. She detached herself from everyone else. So that whole quote falls flat. And even if Valide meant to say this to Mahidevran because of her blaming Aybige, she saw and witnessed by herself Aybige's conversation with Bali Bey and she had enough evidence to drive the conclusion that there is something between them. And yes, she had the right to interrogate her, because she is Mustafa's mother and has to know what is going on. As both Valide and Mahidevran (and even Süleiman) have said: The suspicion only is venomous.
- It loses all weight in retrospect, due to biased narrative voice. (warning: SPOILERS!) I've talked about how I dislike Valide's flanderization in S02 a lot, but what I dislike even more, is how they de-flanderized her. This scene strives to be presented as this huge and important realization of Valide Sultan's character, but it is only the voice of the narrative, also thanks to all the problems I listed above. Look at this scene's composition for starters: when Valide arrives, the atmosphere suddenly changes, the triumphant music, which sets us up for something epic and badass, but we still don't know what exactly, until these lines of dialogue are uttered, almost like a plot twist. It only looks like a moment of triumph and a character realization, it looks much more like the narrative directly calling out Mahidevran. That Valide was wrong for ever supporting her. The themes break their impartial point of view and deliver something out of absolutely nowhere to prove a point. (ironically, the scene in E56 where Valide says that Mahidevran deserved everything she endured, does a much better job in somewhat being a character realization moment, because it fit the context, wasn't put there just for.. reasons and you could actually believe the character would say that.) The worst thing is that, despite of it all, nothing mattered in the end. The post-E55 truce between Hürrem and Valide is conveniently forgotten by the themes of the next arc, due to having the power of tradition "fight" with its last forces (Valide falling ill, Mahidevran and Gülfem ruling the harem) and Hürrem having to forever burn the bridges that stand between them and her. This is reflected best in Hürrem's last encounter with Valide Sultan.
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greenorangevioletgrass · 4 years ago
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aaahhhh this is my weakness how dare you exploit this @terrifictomholland also these are real places and real holidays and i miss it so much skdjdkdhdkdh
warnings: general fluff, none really
***
She clocks him walking out of the arrival gate of the Bali airport-- red curls flowing wild and free, his favorite sunglasses perched atop his head. He wears a white t-shirt in lieu of his usual dark slim-fitting suit, and a backpack instead of a sleek leather case. He looks nothing like someone who runs a mob; just an unassuming young man traveling abroad. It’s his best disguise yet, and for that, Bel is so proud. Now she wonders if he recognizes hers a little faster, too.
Bel bumps into him on purpose, dropping a copy of Casino Royale in the process. He murmurs an apology, keeping his head down as he bends down to gather the novel and the bookmark from the floor (good instinct, Bel thinks.) He’s not sure if it’s the accidental touch of her hand, the somehow comforting scent, or just the familiar presence but he looks up right away --his little birthmark pulled into a knowing half-smile.
“You’re so fucking dramatic, you know that?”
Bel glances at her wristwatch. “Just under 7 seconds. That’s a new record.” she murmurs in compliment, offering her hand to help him up.
“Are we safe? Can I--” Harry looks around and back at her questioningly, not wanting to make the wrong move.
She smiles, pulls him into a hug and gives him a hearty kiss on the cheek. “We’re good. Come on!” she practically drags him all the way to her rented Jeep.
Harry watches her as she navigates the traffic; somewhat terrified of how close people seem to weave between one another, the car towering over motorbike riders and squeezing into smaller and smaller roads.
"Where the hell are you taking me, woman?" he flinches as Bel makes another confident sharp turn in a road tightly lined with shops.
"I'm taking you to dinner, kid," she replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Soon the fancy boutiques and restaurants die down, replaced with local mom-and-pop shops, motorbike repairs, and traditional food stalls as they drive away from the touristy areas. And as the sun dives lower and lower, they cut through miles and miles of rice fields and marigold gardens.
"What are these decorations for?" Harry looks out the windshield glass, at the tall colorful bamboo poles on the side of the street.
"Galungan-- a Balinese holiday where, they believe, ancestral spirits visit the Earth," she replies, glancing out as they drive past. "It's a week-long celebration. They pray at the temple, gather with their family, eat lots of pork."
"Pork, huh? That sounds nice."
"I know." she smiles knowingly as she pulls over, parking the car in front of an eatery with the wooden sign, Babi Guling Ibu Oka. The sign boasts a big carving of a pig, so at least he knows what he's in for.
It's not a fancy restaurant, by any means. The long, communal tables are plain and simple, with baskets of cracklings in the middle. But the place is bustling with customers, mostly local with just a handful of foreigners, and wafting with the smell of good food, and he's more than happy to follow Bel who struts in with a confident familiarity of the place.
They find a couple of empty seats at the end of a table by the stairs, and Harry hasn't even touched the menu when Bel takes his hand.
"You trust me, right?"
"Um... yeah?"
"Great!" she beamed, and signals a waiter. "Nasi campurnya dua ya, pakai sate lilit sama*... Do you want a beer?"
"Yes, please," Harry says almost absently, too amazed by the fact that Bel, within six months, had managed to speak an entirely new language so well. He doesn't understand a word, but she's speaking in a similar pace and lilt as the waiter, and he knows she's nailing it.
The waiter leaves, and Bel notices the lull between them. "What?"
"You're amazing, you know that?" he leans forward, lowering his voice a little.
"Tell me something I don't know," she mirrors his exact gestures.
They've been doing this for years, and it still makes him blush. He just stops fighting the urge altogether now.
But before their flirting could go any further, the waiter returns with their beer and their meal. They both muster a 'thank you' as they study their plates --well, more Harry than Bel.
"So tell me what kind of pork we're eating."
"It's part of a whole pig roasted in an open fire. We get the belly, the skin, the minced satay... and here's the sambal for an extra kick."
Harry hums in delight.
"Forget about Sunday roast, forget about fancy restaurants. This is-- this is all that matters." Bel picks up her spoon and fork and dives right in.
This time, he mirrors her movement and takes a generous bite of his plate. A bit of rice and a little bit of everything on his spoon. Bel watches as his face changes from curiosity to surprise to outright bliss.
"I know, I'm amazing, you're welcome..." she drawls out sarcastically, a playful giggle escaping from her lips.
God, he missed her so much.
The whole evening turns out very lighthearted, as they jump into conversation that never seem to run out; from the food, the new culture she'd learned, to simple little anecdotes of their unusual little lives. Even the quiet little roads of Ubud can't dial down the buzz of the couple recently reunited.
Harry had been to Bali a few times, but he always stayed at exclusive resorts with private beaches and 24-hour concierges. It only takes him a few hours with his adventurer of a lover to realize how much he's been missing out on.
Their rented cottage is tucked on a little cul-de-sac, managed by a local family who owns the property. The son, Ketut, a boy in his late teens, leads them through a footpath into a small complex of cottages and patches of home gardens and charming fish ponds. Bel, ever the charmer, easily strikes a conversation with the teen about the football jersey he's wearing.
"That is where we live, that one is the kitchen, and this cottage is yours," Ketut explains, "Please let me know if there's anything I can help you with."
"Thanks, Ketut. You should go back to your match now," she waves him off lightly, laughing as the boy practically runs back to his house.
"I didn't know you follow football now," Harry offhandedly comments, opening the door.
"I kinda have to now. It's an easy way in--"
"Wow."
They drop their bags by the door, marveling at the spacious, rustic cottage they have to themselves that night. The bedroom sits on the right side of the room and she can imagine waking up to the sun gently rising. A couple of armchairs and a coffee table placed strategically on the other side of the room. The windows are open wide and she is instantly drawn to the view outside.
"Harry, come here."
He wraps his arms around her waist, tucking his face into her shoulder. "What is it?"
"Look," she motions at the sky, dark blue sprinkled with silvery shimmering stars.
"Would you look at that?" he breathes out, "We don't have that in London, do we?"
"No, we don't." she pulls him round and kisses him sweetly. "Maybe we can set up shop here somewhere. After all is said and done."
"I'd like that very much, Bel." he nods almost wistfully, before finding his way back to her lips again.
🌻🌻🌻
*two nasi campur (mixed rice) with the twist pork satay, and...
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ayatosmlktea · 5 years ago
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Hello! I would like to request an angst turns fluff imagine! Levi x reader where they have an arguments about something serious and reader doesnt want to be a burden to levi
A/N: Sorry this got so long…
𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 ❤️
“Are we really having this conversation again?” Levi groaned one hand gripping his hair in frustration, Y/N bit her lip digging her nails into her palms to keep angry tears at bay.
“I already told you that I’m going to be busy tomorrow night. I’m sorry but I just don’t have time to meet your parents.” Y/N was both angry and hurt, she had been dating Levi for almost a year and in that time she had fallen head over heels in love with him. She admired his dedication and work ethic but sometimes he lost sight of things that were important outside of paperwork.
“It’s not going to take long Levi, they just want to have dinner and meet you and that’s it. You can leave after dinner!” Y/N argues, she didn’t feel like she was asking for much and Levi was making this thing a lot harder than it needed to be. Hell he could use a few hours away from his desk.
“I’m not going to say it again Y/N! I don’t have time to waste right now” His words stung like a slap to the face.
“So that’s how you see me then? A waste of time?” She really cared for him but sometimes he could be a snappy asshole when he was in a mood.
“You know that’s not what I meant, God why are you being like this?” He snaps, he couldn’t take it anymore. She was being too pushy, how many times did he have to tell her he was too busy with work to meet her parents.
“Is it really that awful for you take two hours out of your day to meet my parents? This is important to me Levi!” Y/N doesn’t mean to yell but he was getting under her skin and being unreasonably selfish. Maybe he was purposely putting off meeting them because he didn’t take their relationship seriously. It would make sense, he always had work to get him out of things like meeting her friends and now her parents. The possibility struck her suddenly, just the though of Levi not wanting to be seriously involved with her was enough to settle her mind.
“Actually never mind it’s fine, forget I asked” The angry expression she’d had on her face the entire argument quickly fading into nothing, her face giving away nothing as she silently collects the few things she’d brought to spend the night at his place.
“What the fuck are you doing? You don’t have to leave” Levi huffs, yet not tearing himself away from his spot on the bed, laptop still opened on his legs.
“I think it’s better if I go home” she mumbles, exiting the bedroom to slip her shoes on. Her eyes burn with tears but she refuses to cry in front of him, what was the point. He clearly prioritized work over their relationship, he hadn’t even gotten up to stop her from leaving. Throwing her key on the kitchen table she leaves the apartment, the sound of keys tapping confirming how much Levi valued her.
It was well into the late hours of the night, Levi was still hunched over his computer a cramp forming in his neck. It had been almost two days since Y/N had left and he hadn’t bothered to text her. His head was swimming with information, work had been extra demanding lately and while he liked to pretend that he could handle the heavy work load it was clearly putting a strain on his life. In all honesty he had expected her to message him first but he supposed that he deserved the silent treatment. 
The day she had asked him again if he would be able to make it to dinner had been bad timing, he had just gotten off a long phone call from one of their clients who had a knack for being particularly difficult. Her insistent begging had been the final straw causing him to unleash his temper onto her. It hadn’t been the first time either. Since they had started dating he found it easier to take his anger out on her than deal with his own issues. She always forgave him after, brushing it off like nothing happened.
Thinking back to her blank expression made him cringe, she always tried to hide her emotions but he was pretty good at reading her. Her eyes gave everything away. He had seen how hurt she was and had chose to ignore her. 
“I’m a fucking dick” he sighed, leaning his head back against his chair. He knew it was late but figured that waking up to an apology was better than waiting until he could see her and apologize properly in person.
Hey babe, I’m really sorry. Call me when you get this
Levi’s couldn’t take it anymore, closing his laptop he trudged to the bathroom for a quick shower. Crawling under the covers he checked his phone just in case Y/N was miraculously still awake. Unsurprisingly there was no text or call waiting for him. Sighing deeply he pulled the covers over his head burying his face into the pillows.
Levi was only slightly disappointed when he woke up with no news from Y/N, he rolled his neck wincing at the knot that had formed in his sleep. Despite having slept for a good six hours he felt cranky and unrested. His day only got worse from there, clients were consistently unhappy with the changes they had specifically demanded for and Levi was beginning to lose his mind. Maybe he needed to take a vacation, spending a week or two on a beach in Bali with Y/N sounded like a good idea. 
When his day had finally ended all Levi wanted to do was go over to her place and take a nap with her body snug against his. So he did, only to end up waiting outside for nearly half an hour. He tried texting her, calling her even face timing her but she wasn’t answering her phone. Levi knew for a fact she wasn’t working today so why wasn’t she around.
Where are you? Can we talk?
Y/N?
Please talk to me
Baby…
Levi waited another ten minutes before sitting down on the doorstep or her apartment. Y/N was clearly giving him the silent treatment and he knew he deserved it. She had never ignored him like this before and it made him feel even worse for his actions. Were they breaking up? The empty feeling that followed as he imagined his life without her served as a much needed wake up call. Levi knew he needed to apologize, he had been taking her forgiving nature for granted. He knew she would either have to leave her apartment eventually or be coming back so he made up his mind to wait for her. It was the least he could do after hurting her.
Y/N was stunned when she had come back to her apartment that night, she hadn’t expected to find Levi leaning against her door dozed off. Her heart tugged at the sight knowing that he must’ve been waiting for her for a while. It wasn’t something he had ever done before and she wasn’t sure how to feel.
“Hey Levi, wake up. You must be uncomfortable” she says gently nudging his shoulder. Immediately aware of his surroundings he looks up at Y/N, his entire body flooding with relief. He quickly stands on his feet ignoring the soreness in his spine, he takes her hands in his.
“Y/N I’m sorry, I was stupid and I took you for granted and I will do whatever it takes for you to forgive me” Y/N couldn’t say anything, Levi had never apologized like this before. He looked disheveled and tired, the circles under his eyes darker than usual.
“You don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry, I don’t want to burden you with my problems. I should’ve just let you work.” She moves to pull her hands out of his feeling like she didn’t deserve his attention but he only holds on tighter pulling her closer to him.
“You’re not a burden to me, never. It’s my fault for putting those thoughts into your head and I will spend the rest of my life proving you wrong if you let me.” His grey eyes looked so sincere she felt her resolve slipping away under his gaze.
“Please let me make it up to you” Y/N bites her lip turning her face away from Levi. She really wanted to forgive him but how could she trust that he was actually going to change?
“Let’s talk inside” she mumbles, pulling her hand way to grab her keys and unlock the door. Levi was on edge the entire time he watched her shift around her apartment trying to find any excuse to prolong their conversation.
Y/N was a bundle of nervous energy, she didn’t like confrontation even if it was her own boyfriend. Walking over to the cupboard she placed two mugs on the counter.
“Do you want tea?” Levi couldn’t take it anymore, the past few days had been hell without her and he needed to know where they stood.
“Tell me what’s wrong babe” His arms encircle her frame halting whatever she was doing.
“I don’t know if I can trust you to not keep doing this. I know your job is really important to you but what about us? I don’t want to sit around waiting for you to decide you want to spend time with me, Levi. I’m not here for your convenience.” The words come out harsher than she had intended but her feelings were all over the place.
“I know I can’t take back how I’ve been treating you but please let me make it up to you. I need you in my life Y/N, you’re the best part of my day. I miss you” He whispers against her ear his arms circling around her waist pulling her back flush against his chest.
“Okay, make it up to me then.” She mumbles after a few moments, yelping in surprise when Levi spins her around to face him his eyes locked onto hers.
“I love you” Any attempt at holding back tears failing as they all fall at once. Levi rarely told her he loved her, usually expressing his feelings through actions but the times he did say it were always special. He wipes away her tears with the pad of his thumbs, leaning forward to kiss her his nerves on fire at the feeling of her lips finally on his again.
“Let’s go to bed, I slept like shit without you”
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