#hope she's having a blast at hawaii

[pedroshotwifey]

Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down. 

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”. 

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky. 

“Sweetheart?” 

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back. 

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way. 

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise. 

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to. 

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times. 

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door. 

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm. 

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.” 

Smooth, you think. 

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret. 

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember. 

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?” 

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.” 

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues. 

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier. 

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that. 

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. 

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth. 

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?” 

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel. 

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight. 

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—” 

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—” 

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.” 

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad. 

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.” 

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.” 

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs. 

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.” 

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what? 

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation. 

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel? 

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with. 

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door. 

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.” 

You sit up at this. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.” 

Oh thank God. 

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.” 

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input. 

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction. 

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.” 

He gives you a hug and closes your door. 

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case. 

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03. 

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake. 

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now. 

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.” 

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand. 

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front. 

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry. 

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down. 

“I’m hungry.” 

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?” 

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation. 

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX. 

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him. 

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.” 

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing. 

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first. 

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later. 

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains. 

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful? 

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward. 

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you. 

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination. 

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers 

through your earbuds. 

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes. 

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.” 

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him. 

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.” 

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too. 

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.” 

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was. 

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane. 

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming. 

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise. 

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into. 

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up. 

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.” 

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.” 

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting. 

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area. 

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.” 

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan. 

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles. 

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace. 

“What all are we going to be doing?” 

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?” 

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?” 

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.” 

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues. 

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.” 

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel. 

“Sounds easy enough,” you say. 

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.” 

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours. 

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep. 

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

[renard-dartigue]

Today's Bravern episode was awesome, had alot of funny moments. I'm convinced Bravern's VA is having a blast lol.

Also

Lulu: You got games on your phone?

Spoiler discussion below

So Superbia is back and that is genuinely fascinating because he might give us more hints as to where Bravern and deathdrives come from.

Something that really stood out to me was the fact that before Superbia could speak Japanese, he was clearly trying to communicate in his original language. Isn't it strange how Bravern doesn't understand this language? How does he know Superbia's name then? I legit believed Bravern knew because Superbia told him during their fight in Hawaii. But I guess that wasn't the case???

Its also strange how Bravern isn't baffled by Superbia's return, almost like he expected him to come back after exploding. Like how do I put this? Ok so clearly, this isn't the same Superbia as the one Isami and Bravern defeated. He must have been rebuilt. Whether or not he has the same memories isn't clear since Superbia doesn't seem to know Bravern. Or maybe he does but because of the language barrier he didn't understand Bravern's fancy introduction. Regardless, there is a possibility that Braven doesn't know everything about deathdrives.

My biggest questions right now are: Is there a chance to bring Superbia to their side? Does Superbia only want Lulu because she makes him stronger? Or does he have a similar attachment to Lulu as Bravern does to Isami? Because if its the latter I could definitely see Superbia joining their side if its the only way he can protect Lulu. Cause let's face it, ain't no way that girl is leaving her dad's(yup thats Smith) side willingly. Personally, I hope Superbia joins the team just to see him and Bravern talk more. I'd love to watch two giant robots bicker over dumb shit while Isami losses his mind lol.

Also, I love Smith dude. This isn't American bias or anything. (Especially given what my country's leaders are doing right now but let's not get into it). When Smith is positive its so infectious and I think him and I are on the same wavelength. There is this moment when him, Isami, and Bravern are flying over to Japan and Bravern says one of his wacky phrases followed by an awkward silence. I literally, out LOWD, say "Ookay". And right after that Smith says "Ookay" in the EXACT same way and I started wheezing dude. 💀

Ok ok that's enough rambling lol. Now to wait another week for (hopefully) some answers.

For once I gotta say, the English in this hasn't been as painful as some other animes I've seen. Both Smith and the Major have been pretty alright. (What I'm saying is that I'm not cringing as much when a primary English speaking character doesn't pronounce English words right.)

[yes-divine-ruler]

Boy Next Door

part 10: what’s in the box?

pairing: alex (from adult world) x fem!reader

cw: mention of sex toys

Taglist/ @v-love @evanpetersfav @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @dahmevan @charsdunkie @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @slimshadyvol2 @simp4petermaximoff @sultrysullen @evan4ever

word count: 1640

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I didn't know my parents were due to visit me the next morning because I didn't see the text they'd sent me the night before. Alex had been at work for hours when they arrived, and luckily, I was on my own sofa trying to catch up on the book I'd borrowed from the library.

My doorbell rung out, the one notifying me when someone was trying to be let into the building, and for a moment I thought it might've been Alex forgetting his apartment key. When I picked up the phone to speak, my blood ran cold hearing my father's voice down the line. It wasn't like I didn't want to see them, but I almost felt caught out and guilty for the activities I engaged in the night before. I was a grown woman, and these feelings were entirely fruitless, but being the way I had been all these years, especially after my brother's death, everything felt almost too different. For a moment I didn't think they'd recognise me because of how much I'd changed.

I buzzed them in, waiting anxiously by my opened front door with my head poking out to watch the elevator. When the elevator dinged, my heart rate picked up, and my eyes watered at the sight of my dear parents. My dad shot me a smile, my mother quickly walking down the carpeted hallway to greet me.

"Y/N! We were so worried when you didn't answer our texts we had to come see you!" Mom wrapped me into a tight hug, the scarf around her neck almost suffocating me. I hugged her back of course, tucking my head into the crook of her neck.

"Sorry mom," I said sheepishly, pulling away, "I must've been in bed at that time."

"Glad to see you're alright kid," it was dad's turn to offer me a warm hug, and then I ushered them into my apartment.

They sat on my sofa, and my mother was the first to scrutinise the mess I'd left on my dining table from Alex's and I's dinner nights ago. I did have to admit, I'd been more slack when it came it maintaining the place recently, but it was only because my spare time was almost completely filled with spending time with Alex.

"So, how's everything been with you guys?" I'd interrupted my mom's careful examination as quick as I could before she could make a comment on it. She has always been very prim and proper, a real lady who enjoys staying at home to tend to the house and serve her husband - it must be a generational thing because I was nothing like that.

"Yes good, we're going away to Hawaii next week," your father said, "I need a break from all my clients at work, they're driving me insane," he laughed.

"Oh of course," you were too old to be invited to family holidays anymore, "have you got everything packed?"

"No not yet, we may need you to take care of Weston for us," my mom was referring to our 12 year old Yorkshire terrier, that particularly never took a liking to me.

"Yeah sure," I faked a smile, as our catch-up conversation dwindled down to small talk.

Thankfully, we were interrupted by loud music blasting through the far-side wall, which I knew was the one I shared with Alex. I laughed apprehensively,  as dad's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Is that your neighbour? It's not Mr Hangar is it?" Dad seemed utterly perplexed by the rock music shaking my apartment, and it sent me into a fit of laughter.

"No dad!" Suddenly my face dropped, "Mr Hangar passed away, my new neighbour's name is Alex." I were hoping my parent's first impression of Alex might've been a little less presumptuous.

"It doesn't sound like a nice person to have as a neighbour, maybe you should put in a complain about the music," my mother suggested, but I just shook my head in disagreement.

"No mom, he's really nice actually, he's an artist, he like- the music is never loud for very long," I hadn't realised how hot my face had gotten speaking of Alex until I pressed my hand to my cheek.

"Hm right," my mother nodded, before her gaze returned to raking over my apartment.

"Didn't I tell you to get that fixed months ago?" My mom pointed over at the flaking paint above my dining room table. I only rolled my eyes in response - it wasn't a life or death situation, and I frankly didn't have the money to fix it.

"We told you we'd pay for it," my mother urged, as if she read my mind.

Our conversation got cut short for a second time by a loud knock at the door.

"Who's that?" My father asked, perking up on the sofa. Who else could it be if not Alex? Oh shit.

"Um- it may be my neighbour," I smiled cautiously at my parents, before getting up from the sofa.

"Is he harassing you?" My mother was just too much sometimes.

"No mom," I pined, pacing to the door and only opening it a crack.

"Hey beautiful I got-"

My eyes widened as I realised I'd shut the door on Alex's face to stop my parents from hearing his pet names. They'd either think he really was harassing me now, or the truth, that I were trying to hide him from them.

I cursed under my breath, before opening it up again to face a very confused Alex. He furrowed his eyebrows at me, his forehead creased with small wrinkles, his lips formed into a pout.

"What was that for?" He asked, as you turned back towards your parents and flashed them a small smile, before slipping out into the hallway with Alex.

"I'm sorry, my parents are here," I explained, only just noticing the small box in Alex's hands. Had he bought me something? The thought alone made me swoon, I was a sucker for gifts. Alex must've noticed me staring at the box, because he offered it to me with outstretched arms.

"This is for you," he said with a dimpled smile, "I got it today."

I was so ecstatic, I pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged me back, immediately placing his big hands on my ass. My head moved from his shoulder, to look him in the eyes.

"Should I come in and say hello?" He joked, biting his lip in a smile.

"Well they've just heard your loud music and they were not pleased, so maybe another time," I joke back, before he leans down and captures my lips in a soft kiss.

He pulled away, licking his lips, before he loosened his grip on me.

"Okay well I'll see you later then?" He suggested, as I opened the door up to slip back inside.

"Okay," I replied simply, about to shut the door before he stopped me with his hand.

"Sorry one more thing- I forgot to mention, maybe don't open it in front of your parents," Alex said just above a whisper, my eyes widening at his explicit instructions.

"Why? What is it?" I asked back, shaking the box but not being able to tell much from the sound alone.

"Don't worry you'll see just- not in front of your parents."

Alex waved goodbye and disappeared back into his apartment, the music suddenly softer. I smiled at his consideration, tucking the box under my arm as I made my way back inside my apartment.

“Who was that?” My mother asks me, eyeing the box in my hand.

“Oh just my neighbour, we didn’t realise his music was so loud, he turned it down,” my lips curled up into a feeble smile, hoping that they wouldn’t question me about the box under my arm.

Fortunately they didn’t, and it was time for them to leave. My parents both gave me a hug goodbye, and I walked them to the elevator.

“Get that paint fixed,” mom said to me during our farewell hug, before travelling down to the ground floor in the elevator.

I let out a sigh of relief when they were gone, and almost ran back to my apartment to see what Alex had gotten me.

When I got to the box that I’d laid carefully on my kitchen counter, I tore open the packaging, my eyes widening once I opened the box.

Oh my god, I thought, that’s not what I think it is, is it?

I picked it up, turning it in my hand to see it from every angle. Bright blue, and totally discernible, I clicked it on to feel the vibrations warm and tingle my hand.

Did Alex buy me a fucking vibrator? He did work in a sex shop after all but, did he… my body got all hot just thinking about it. I placed it back into the box after switching it off, and just stared at it. Id never bothered to own one before, and I was sure I’d really know how to use it.

My phone pinged in my pocket, and taking it out, I saw a message from Alex.

Alex (next door): don’t worry if ur not sure how to use it, I can help with that ;)

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh, but it felt like I was choking on my own tongue from how skittish it made me. Trying not to think of last night’s activities as I sunk back into my couch to read, I asked Alex to come over in an hour, and bring some take out. He happily agreed, and to finally distract my mind from thinking of Alex’s toned torso and his warm hands and his velvet tongue and lips, I dove back into my book.

[islandtarochips]

Since its ruz birthday Tomarrow how would she most likely cleberate with the wtf team 🤩 I know that she’ll bring some cookies :)

SO sorry for the late reply, pele! Quite busy with the family stuff and work and especially trying to finished that one shot that I just finished publishing it from yesterday!

ANYWAY! This is a very fun question and it was Ruz's birthday! So I just wanted to say.....

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, RUZ!

And I'm sure the WTF team will be giving out a BIG party for their special friend! Aelan and Tiala are in charged of planning of how it goes. While Nigel and Agnes are in charged of buying materials and decorations and lastly Kanoa was in charged of the food. Oh yeah! For Alana she was the one who will be with Ruz to have a look around in Hawaii. And will appreciate for Ruz sharing her cookies.

These two would just ride around in Hawaii and Alana letting Ruz buy whatever she wants around the store. For this lady is FULL of cash with her (Because of her being a General. Get paid a LOT.). And after that, Alana will take Ruz to where the birthday party will be at.

It will only be them and Ruz, along with Alana's older brother and his wife and their daughter.

It will be a BLAST! I'm sure Ruz was very touched of how the WTF had prepared for her! Even going on FULL party mode! So many foods and drinks and even have some fun games!

I hope Ruz is enjoying her fun time with them! Because they sure hell do enjoyed it with her!

[elvis-fangirl87]

This is smut so if you don't like it or are under 18 please don't read. It's my 1st attempt at smut so im sorry in advance 🤣

I can't believe my luck that I'm here in Hawaii standing front row and ready to see Elvis Presley. He has been my idol since I was a child and now I'm getting ready to see him in the flesh for the 1st time. Suddenly the lights go down and the space oddesy music started to blast threw out the convention centre and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up straight. I haven't seen Elvis yet and I already felt overwhelmed. Elvis suddenly appeared and I felt all the air leave my lungs. He was so beautiful in a pure white jumpsuit adorned with crystals shaped into American eagles. I feel like I have left my body because before I know it the show is nearly finished. Elvis was singing love me tender and a lot of women were rushing towards the stage as Elvis was giving away kisses and I built up enough courage to walk towards the stage.

I honestly felt silly standing there just waiting while he made his way towards me. By the time he got to me the song was ending and Elvis looked at me and said "I'm sorry honey" I felt my heart drop and I made my way back to my seat feeling disappointed and embarrassed that I was the only girl who never got a kiss. The end of the show was here and the opening of Cant help falling love with You began to play and I was memorised by him. He was amazing and I could not stop staring at him. At the end of the song he took his cape off and threw it into the audience and I feel like it all happened in slow motion. His cape was coming straight in my direction and it hit me right in my face knocking me off my feet as it was heavy. I was praying that Elvis had never seen this as it was so embarrassing and what made the situation way worse was that some girl stole the cape from me. When I got on my feet I saw Elvis standing on the stage staring at me. I wasn't sure what I was meant to do so I just smiled at him and he nodded his head and told the crowd thank you and left the stage.

Everyone left the stadium rather quickly and I felt that even though I now have a very sore head and that I never got a kiss I still had the most amazing time.

I stood up and got myself ready to leave when I felt someone grab my arm making me jump

"I'm sorry I  made you jump" a man I didn't know said to me.

" oh it's ok"

"I'm Joe Esposito and I work for Elvis  and he would like to see you backstage"

" he wants to see me? Why?" I ask so surprised

" He wanted to see if you are ok after you got hit by his cape"

" oh no did he see that?" I ask embarrassed

" he did and he wants to see that your alright"

"oh ok" is all I can say as I feel shocked.

Joe leads me backstage and I walk into a room full of people. There are a lot of beautiful women here and I feel like I'm a square peg among circles.

I see Elvis still dressed in his jumpsuit his hair stuck to his head with sweat and surrounded by beautiful women all fighting to get his attention. I find a spot at the back of the room and I stand there hoping to blend into the background

" Hey Joe" Elvis shouts once he sees Joe walk past him

"Where is that girl I asked you to get?" he asks

" she is here. I don't know where she is hiding as she is a shy one" he says his eyes scanning the room. He suddenly spots me and then points me out to Elvis.

I see Elvis walk towards me. His walk oozed strength and confidence and sexiness and I felt my stomach flip

"Hello darling," he says when he reaches me

I look up at him and I stare at him wondering how it's even possible that he was even more beautiful close-up

"Are you ok?" he asks

" your beautiful" I blurt out feeling mortified the second I hear the words leave my mouth

"I mean hello and I'm fine" I add my face turning red from the embarrassment.

Elvis starts to laugh. His laugh is adorable his laugh does a little hitch like he's trying to catch his breath

" Why thank you for the compliment. Your very pretty yourself"

" oh gosh thank you"

"How are you feeling after I knocked you off your feet with my cape," he asked his face showing he was trying hard not to laugh.

"oh, I'm ok.  I think I'll just about live" I giggle showing Elvis that I wasn't angry or hurt and that I found the humour in the situation.

Elvis broke up laughing and I joined in.

"I'm sorry doll but all I saw was you then suddenly all I saw was your legs in the air" he laughs

"oh god I'm not graceful" I laugh covering my face with my hands.

"come with me honey," he says while taking my hand and I felt the electricity pass threw us

"where are we going?"

"Somewhere more  private"

My heart felt like it stopped.  Why does he want me alone?

We stepped into a bedroom which he used as his changing room and he closes the door behind us.

Elvis looks at me and sees that I'm nervous and shaking.

"Don't be scared little one.  I won't do anything to hurt you" he says rubbing his hands up and down my arm trying to calm me down but it had the opposite effect.

I felt like my body was fire and he was now looking at me like he wanted to devour me whole.

"I saw how disappointed you were when you didn't get a kiss from me onstage and I want to make it up to you"

Elvis is now leaning close to me and I can smell the peppermint on his breath from the chewing gum that he has in his mouth.

His lips are now on mine and they feel so soft and plump and gently he slowly begins to enter his tongue into my mouth and I let out a soft moan. He kisses me with such passion that I was melting in front of him.  When he pulled away I felt something in my mouth.  I realised that I now had Elvis chewing gum in my mouth and I giggled while I began to chew it.

I saw Elvis' eyes scan my body while he bit his bottom lip and I grew shy that the man I have loved and admired since I was a child was now admiring me.  I felt my arousal growing and the need for him was growing strong and I knew that I wanted him.

Elvis took me in his arms and was feeling my waist when I feel his hands snake round and grab hold of my bum while he released a moan.

"you know I'm strictly an ass and leg man," he said breaking the silence

"oh really?  I'm strictly an Elvis girl" I giggle making him pick me up bridal style and carry me on the bed while he lay me down gently.

Elvis was now straddling me while staring at me with such passion in his eyes.

" Will you let me love you? " he asks his voice low and husky with desire

" please love me Elvis" I whine.

That is all Elvis needed to hear as he quickly removed my dress. He began smirking when he saw that I was wearing white underwear.

"White panties mean that you're a good girl," he says approving of my underwear choice.

Elvis kissed my neck slowly and began to drag his lips across my collarbone and placed wet kisses on my stomach.  He took my legs and spread them apart and he licked his lips when he saw my panties were already wet by my desire for him.

"looks like you're ready for me baby? " he smirks

I was so overwhelmed that words have failed me and all I could do was nod my head.

Elvis ran his hands up my body and I felt Elvis's fingers brush against my vagina and I moaned at the sensation.  Elvis grabbed hold of my panties and pulled them off him in one quick swoop. Once he had thrown my panties across the room he unhooked my bra with one hand and took it off me so quickly I hardly realised that he had done it.

"wow you have done that before" I giggle

"I've had a bit of practice over the years, baby"

He now has my boob in his  right hand while his left hand is rubbing my stomach and I honestly felt like I might just explode.

He began the descent to the part of me that needed him the most.  Elvis Presley's face was between my legs and I wish it was acceptable to take pictures as I would want that image to look back on.  He looked up at me with that crooked smile of his and I couldn't take no more.

"please Elvis I need you now" I beg

Elvis smiles again and places a sloppy kiss where I wanted it most.   He got to work on running his tongue over my flaps and was sucking on me like a lollipop and I thought I was going to pass out with the pleasure he was giving me when he took his two fingers and told me to suck on them.  When Elvis felt that his fingers were wet enough he took them and began to finger me slowly, to begin with, but then faster and faster until all you could hear was my wetness and my moans.

"Elvis im going to cum" I moan so loud that I can hear the people next door start to giggle but at that moment i didn't care. Let them hear and let then know how good he is.

"cum for me baby"

Once I hear those words leave elvis's mouth my orgasm comes quickly.

"good girl" elvis tells me

To be continued 

[prismatic-cannon]

wrt the p5 vball au (!!!!!) i'm pretty sure yusuke is canonically Very Bad at the sports (see beach episode, his absolute terrible performance in beach vball) but he is so tall and lanky... so stronk... but i cannot see him being particularly "athletic" and coordinated in that way (part of that is just me projecting my lack of coordination on him lmao.) granted he does have high agility plus the "scoundrel eyes," in royal, but i just don't see him actually... having that sort of hand-eye to hit ball and not whiff. of the kosei boys though... knowing its artsy reputation, i don't know if anyone has that lmao... though also with him being that tall, maybe he gets saddled with middle? but also. 180cm is still, like, libero height for a lot of teams lol

they do make the joke that mako too stronk for the boys a lot (again, see beach episode) but i think she'd probably follow her combat abilities and be really well rounded in both offence and defence. haru is really nimble and bendy, and probably has a great swing (axe) but idk if she has the height/hops for the net. akechi and joker being the setters... makes so much sense oh dear it's almost upsetting. though imagine them on the same team.... akechi would probably also make a great opposite (lefty, good power) as would joker (literally perfect) and we know they're both fairly athletic, which makes me think... 6-2? maybe they hit... and set....? i think you made mishmash a libero which makes a lot of sense?. i hc him as being faster and better than ppl give him credit for, despite him being the lamest canonically. (ilu mishima) and ryuji thinks this vball bullshit is lame af dude

this is a wall and tl;dr i think vb au is so good !!! i want to chew on it thank you sorry for too many words ;-;

damn anon you had some thoughts 😂 (gonna put this under a cut so i don't flood anyone's dash)

Tbh I totally forgot that there was a beach volleyball scene in Hawaii until you reminded me omg. The way Makoto spikes it hard into the sand ... a murderer 😂 But yes she's easily captain-material for sure, especially since she's already student council president and everything

I think people would underestimate Haru at first, but you could definitely give her an edge up on something e.g. one of those scary killer serves. Bottom line is that Haru should have her sweet murderous moment where she's bouncing delicately on her heels all \o/ \o/ \o/ oh my I hope you're ready — because I won't hold back!! 💕 while the opposing team cowers in fear or something lol. I love my wife can you tell

Middle blocker is totally viable for Yusuke too I think!! He's a tall guy, so he could definitely do stuff if he puts the work in. If this was based on canonverse then yeah I could see him whiffing the ball from time to time. I’m sure the hand/body coordination for handling a sword vs doing da sports ball is different lol. My reason for making him ace was so that he could be a temperamental but formidable ace, and place him as one of the key players for Kosei so that the Shujin team could have rivals to go up against ya know? I just think the idea of seeing Yusuke's murder eyes as he blasts a spike through a block is just. (chef's kiss) sublime shit. It would be an honour to die by his hand (also is 180cm really normal libero height?? All my volleyball knowledge is gleaned from HQ so I’m probably missing something lmao)

Also I see your point about making Akechi and Joker on the same team, but considering that it’s these two dudes we’re talking about I feel like we have to double down on their whole rival dynamic, it would be a crime not to imo (and this is coming from someone who hates shu/ake and Akechi lol). The setter mind games they could have with each other is too good — like if you have Akechi be his superficially genial and amiable self while Joker actively goes out of his way to antagonise him just to peel back that fake veneer of charm and throw him off his game??? Delish

😭 Mishima my beloved ... I think I mentioned this already but I really like the idea of him being a libero since it's a near 1:1 parallel to his role in canon (no spike, only support!!!!) I HC that his low-to-zero presence lowkey serves him well on court, in the sense that he's a solid defense player that quietly keeps chugging along and making sure the ball stays up while everyone else focuses on offense. He's a silly little NPC that keeps his head down and stays in his lane ... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Ofc sometimes the opposing team is going to target him to try and break through their defense, but once he gets into his zone it's hard to shake him off his groove imo. If you're telling me Mishima can hyperfixate this hard on his dumb little website then at least some of that focus is going to bleed into his vball game headspace (wow I didn’t go off on a shu/yuu tangent. it’s a miracle, let’s keep it that way)

Anyway thank you for your volleyball thoughts!! It’s always fun to think about it even though it’s too much effort to actualise it lmao

[jodilin65]

Feeling the best I’ve felt since I first got sick although I still have fatigue. It’s hard to say whether the fatigue is post-recovery or just the way I usually am. I still think my TSH has risen but now that I’m back on the vitamin D every few days, that should help. I feel chilled at times but Tom thinks it’s just because it takes longer than you realize to fully recover. But this is the least nauseous I’ve been since getting sick so I’m glad for that much. My hair and skin are dry but if my TSH is that high, it wouldn’t explain why my weight is still down. I think my weight will be going back up soon, though.

Best of all, I’m now pretty sure that I didn’t get a UTI. I think that because I took a little break from my probiotics and lady lube while sick that’s why I started feeling a burning sensation again. Either that or the one Nitrofurantoin I took last night was one seriously powerful pill along with the cranberry juice I’ve been drinking. I’ll know soon enough because if it flares back up, then that will make me think some things up.

I messaged Rhonda about it and the message wasn’t picked up until this afternoon. I then sent a second message asking that she cancel the antibiotic request and explained that I don’t think I have a UTI after all but if the symptoms return I’ll do an urgent video appointment.

More good news. I haven’t had to sleep with the nasal dilator and I haven’t snored in a while so I think the problem was the blood pressure medicine. Also, when I took my blood pressure earlier, it was 113/73, so I don’t think I really need to try anything else. As long as I watch what I eat I should be okay.

Even more good news. Yes, I have a few good things which is great. The only negative is my fatigue. The dishwasher is fixed and Tom was in and out of the plasma place in under an hour. We’ve also been making decent money online. Not move-to-Hawaii kind of decent but still decent. I even splurged on a small Temu order and got $33 worth of stuff that would have normally cost about $100 elsewhere. I got a couple of figurines, lip gloss, a 6-pack of G-strings, and another sticker to decorate the toilet seat with. Pictures will eventually show up on my secondary Facebook account. Just not of me wearing the G-strings of course. LOL.

One figurine is a fairy that sits on the edge of a shelf, windowsill, table, or wherever you want to put her. The other is a German shepherd and while I may not be a dog fan, it seems to be a really nice and realistic sculpture.

The good news still goes on…although it’s delayed a month, I got a call from my ENT’s office saying that the doctor will be in surgery during my appointment and it was bumped up to late April at a time that fits into my schedule much better. So now I don’t have to stress over that.

And the last bit of good news is that the honker’s company left. Seems that way anyway. Tomorrow I’ll take a chance when I crash and not blast the sound machine so loud and hope he stays off the motorcycle. There shouldn’t be any thunderstorms to worry about but I’d rather Mother Nature than human assholes.

Saw a crime documentary about a guy in the UK who went down for 8 years for cyberstalking people for years. They talked about his childhood, how he didn’t know he was autistic at the time, how he felt bullied and alienated, and how many (not all) are a problem in society and use their autism as an excuse to give people so much grief. I know not all of them are trouble but I think that many of them know exactly what they’re doing but instead of doing something to better themselves, they use their condition as a ticket to act out. And OMG, the inappropriately intense emotions and paranoia! It seems that where most people would get moderately upset over something more serious, these people will go ballistic over next to nothing.

[ultralightpoe]

Hatred- Natasha Romanoff

Description: You hate Natasha for leaving you.

Warnings: Angst? Poorly written? 

Authors note: I am just starting my blog up again, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to send in some requests I write for most of Marvel. Have a groovy time. 

Word Count: 747

MAIN Master List - - Marvel Master List 

There were things you hated in life, it was normal to hate things. 

              You hate the way socks felt when they got wet, or the way they suffocated your feet while sleeping. You hate when the sun blasts your eyes while driving, and the way air conditioning in cars makes you sick. You hate the smell of cheap cologne, the way Thor burps after EVERY beer he chugs. You hate when people interrupt you while reading or while watching movies.

But you never thought you would hate her. 

               You had given years to Natasha, most of your life even, having met within the red room only to find each other later in life when she pulled you from that mist clouding your mind. 

               She was an avenger, and though you never looked into that career you were extremely proud of her. Instead of following that path you stuck to owning a business supported by Tony, a small diner named Roma’s. You made a life with her in the apartment above it. 

                She gave you a dog for your 4th anniversary, giving it your last name since you were taking hers. You were married in Ohio, had a honeymoon in Hawaii. (Which Clint actually came on with his kids and wife. It was a lot of fun). You followed her to take down the red room for a second time, you had cut and dyed her hair to the blonde that you last saw her in. You had given her your life. 

So why was she so fucking selfish?

It happened with a snap, gone in an instant there in the next. 

               You had been waiting at the diner, it was a busy lunch shift and though you were worried about your wife it didn’t help to sit there and worry about it. Yelena, who had been staying with you when Natasha left, was out to find another Widow. Just as you were picking up a plate to carry you were gone.

              When you reemerged, the diner was empty, completely abandoned and dark. Windows were shattered and half the tables and chairs thrown about carelessly. You were panicking, sobbing and running to the apartment in utter confusion. It was three days later Steve Rogers found you. 

You had disappeared as a wife and returned as a widow.

              The world was different now, and so were you. Things you once loved began turning into rotten memories and painful emotions. The color red brough flashes of red lips crawling up your skin, and red hair slipping through your fingers. The smell of bourbon reminded you of drunken nights crawling through the halls of the compound, lips melted into each other as you half-heartedly tried to unlock her door. 

                Anything that brought back the memories shared with her made you sick, tore your soul in shreds. But now she was everywhere. 

              She was on posters in every building you entered, she knocked on your door every Halloween thousands of times, she appeared in musicals and people made references of her in their shows and novels. 

Natasha was finally known as the hero she was, and you hated it. 

            You hated her for living the hero life instead of staying with you for the simple life, you hated her for going to help Steve when you had just gotten her back from hiding from the government, you hated that she left you. You hated that she never even said bye. You hated Natasha Romanoff. You were sure of it. 

           But if you hated Natasha so much why did it hurt? Why couldn’t you wash the pillowcase she used in fear you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep?  Why couldn’t you stop wearing her Led Zeppelin shirt? 

If you hated Natasha Romanoff so much, why were you nothing without her?

            She was selfish, and she left you. She left you with nothing, she left you with absolutely nothing.  

           You would never see her again, but sometimes you liked to imagine it. Little scenarios of her walking through your front door like nothing happened, telling you it was your turn to do the dishes. Or maybe when you wake up she’s already in the kitchen making breakfast. Maybe she is putting on her favorite lipstick while you get dressed in the closet. 

            But that would never happen because she left you for a world that didn’t deserve it. 

You hated Natasha Romanoff, because it made it easier to forget her.

[wherethewordsare]

The Show Must Go On

The format on this is kind of shit cause I pretty much did a live write in  and I am in the middle of semester rn and refuse to clean this up. 🤷‍♀️

Based during WW2. @natthemess said something about that song Candy Man and my brain went “Okay... but USO Jaskier” and woops I accidentally the whole thing. Warning: Mentions of MCD, death, war in the consequential injuries and collateral that comes with that. 

Word Count: 2575

Also took inspiration from this song here!

~~

So

Let's talk about ww2 and people that got left behind

Let's talk about those who knew they probably wouldn't be coming back and they left their loves as angry and as broken hearted as possible so that when the news did get back, at least maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad

Then. Then there's Jask. And man. He got pretty broken-hearted. But of course he would still try to follow. Had to. The army might not take him but he'll if he wasn't going to try to enlist one way or another. So he finds himself in the USO. They call him the Songbird of Southern San Francisco. (He's from Piedmont but alright)

Does shows all up and down the coast. Finds himself in Hawaii. Then New York. Next thing he knows, he's being put on a boat for Malta.

His set is pretty solid. Mostly swing dance and a few ballads

The navy lads are a blast. Idiots and cads and Jask fits right in. Then... they hit the mouth of the Mediterranean and the ship goes into some kind of high alert as they go just past the coast of Morocco. Jaskier wasn't expecting to step out of his bunk in the afternoon by the sight he sees. Soldiers and civilians alike, in any manner of injury and devastation. And it's Jaskier. He wants to help. He grabs a nurse going by and she's about to tell him off. "What do you need? How can I help." She softens a bit. "Unless you have any medical training, talking to some might be a good start. And pray we aren't next."

So he does. Talks to every man, woman and child he can find time to. There was one man, a soldier, his face bandaged almost completely. And tells him of a woman he left back in Portugal. A nurse for the United Kingdom. And he kind of smiles and it splits the cut in his lip back open. "Told me I was hers till I got back in one piece. Hope she doesn't mind if it's not a pretty piece."

"Brave as you are, I'm sure she'll still find you the most handsome fella on the whole boat." But Jaskier is already humming. Already putting together a song. Something soft and slow and hopeful. A demand to the one that left him behind. Go. Go see what you have to but know you belong to me. Still. You don't get to just cop out cause you die"

They get to Malta and Jaskier waits with his new friend at the military hospital for this nurse. 

Eskel tells him that they met before the war and then found each other again during. He hums Jaskiers song. Jokes that he's never been a muse before, even partly. 

"I only take inspiration from very tall handsome men. Too bad my taste is always those I can't have." It's not even a whole joke. 

When Eskels nurse, Triss, shows up, she's not alone. Eskels brother is there. Esk and Triss are having their reunion while Gerslt and Jaskier just stare at one another. Eskel is saying something about the You Belong to Me song and that's when Jaskier remembers himself. 

But Geralt has already put it together.

"Jask..."

"Wait, you two know.... oh." Eskel is glaring at Geralt with his one unbandaged eye. "The second the doc clears me, I'm kicking your ass all the way back to Oakland, buddy."

It isn't until that night when Jaskier performs that Geralt understands. 

"You told me it hadn't been serious."

"I said it couldn't be serious."

Eskel looks up at Jaskier when the song starts. "I don't know. Seems like at least one of you thought it was."

After the show, Geralt can't find Jaskier. But now his gut is burning with guilt but also with just how lonely he had been after that afternoon on the pier where he told Jaskier about being drafted. About how he was leaving in the morning.

"In the morning? Don't they usually give you at least a couple of weeks to... oh. Oh I see." Jaskier had looked over the ocean with that frown that always made Geralt just want to pull him closer. "So that's it then?"

"Hmm." He hadn't looked up from where he was leaning against the railing when Jaskier stormed off and before he could second guess himself he was already on a plane for El Paso. 

He should have known where to find Jaskier though. He remembers that Jaskier had told him once about how the Ocean was the safest place because at least there, you couldn't underestimate how tits up things could go in a blink. 

He wasn't surprised when he walked down from the barracks to the little rocky inlet, Jaskier leaning against a boulder watching the sun slowly make its way down into the waves, strumming out the melody of the last song he played for his set.

"I didn't think I'd be coming home." He tries to explain. 

Jaskier's fingers press down on the strings, cutting off the sound with a hard disharmonious jangle. 

"Well you took mine with you when you left, so I don't know what you want from me."

"Jaskier..." He look out over the water but doesn't make to go any closer. He's seen the musician scrap before and it's never good. 

"You know, the worst part. Priss warned me. She did. Told me 'Julek, not that one. He doesn't even look like he knows how to have feelings.' And I hate the fact that she was right." He turns to look at Geralt and his eyes are like ice and the smile on his face is too sharp and too cruel to be the man that Geralt had met four years ago. "Because if you did know how to feel anything besides your own pride, maybe you could have seen just how-" he stops and the smile fades but the coldness in his eyes only seems to deepen. "You know. It doesn't matter. We're both here now and you have a job to do tomorrow and honestly, I can't care less." He's pushing himself off the ground and Geralt can't move. He can't speak. He feels like his heart has been torn from his chest and thrown to the sharks. "I'll see you around Geralt."

He's frozen there, only able to watch as Jaskier trudges back up the hill, the neck of his guitar in a tight grip. 

Geralt stays, watching as the sun completely sinks, not noticing the heat of the day turn near to freezing. He's already cold inside. He figures that's what happens when you put out the only bit of sun you've ever known.

Jask gets all of five minutes to revel in his foul mood. By time he's reached the barracks the guitar strings under his grip are slicing into his palm and his face is hot and streaked with tears. He sleeps through the deployment the next morning and misses his next three shows. The coordinator for the USO tour is lenient to a point and by the fourth night he makes his way back on stage. He doesn't look for the face he knows isn't there. He doesn't think of that beach on another coastline miles and miles away and he doesn't think about the danger he knows must be waiting there. Instead he sings, trying to keep those that are left behind in good spirits.

Within two weeks, letters start making their way back to the base from the front line, followed by casualty notices. Jaskier always leaves the mailroom when he sees them. He stops seeking out Eskel and Triss, choosing instead to hide away on the roof of the canteen, his eyes always coming to stop on the water.

Jaskier spends four weeks in the same routine. Sing, sleep, wake up, drink, hide. Rinse and repeat. He doesn't know how he does it, but Eskel finally tracks him down. Even with half of his face still bandaged, still healing, Jaskier can tell. The air in his lungs turns to flames and he feels his knees buckle under him. 

"I'm so sorry, Jask." Eskel is at his side then, his cane discarded as he bends down to catch Jaskier.

There's someone dying, he's pretty sure. It sounds like there's someone dying at least but he can't tell where the sound is coming from. 

Geralt is gone. The world is shattering inward and Geralt is gone. Jaskier can feel sand beneath his bare feet and a leather jacket being draped around his shoulders, smelling of a mechanic's shop and black coffee. He can hear a warm laugh in his ear and music from down the beach where they are walking. But that is not where Jaskier is right now. That moment belongs to someone he can never be again. Geralt is gone and Jaskier is still here and the world has shattered to a fine dust. 

There is a moment he thinks that maybe he'll be allowed to go to. Follow Geralt into oblivion but he can't. How could he when he knows that's exactly why Geralt had left him behind in the first place.

There are no tears. No sound or sight around him and he thinks that no amount of music will ever be worth the way his heart is breaking. 

Memorials for them are different now. Funerals are different. They cannot sort out the number of bodies that have been left on the battlefield. When thin metal is pressed into Jaskier's hand, skin still tight from where it is healing in thin lines, he clutches what he knows to be Geralt's dog tags and he weeps. In that moment there is no escaping how for the rest of his days, he will always still belong to Geralt.

~

V-Day shakes New York under him. The shouts in the streets and the music pound into the thin brick walls of Jaskier's tiny apartment. He couldn't go back to California after Malta. Warm winds and ocean views didn't seem to suit him very well anymore. The city was full of life but it was so much easier to get lost in than back in the bay. Jaskier spends most of his time singing in the clubs and helping at the VA, though mostly all he can do is talk to people. He sees it all there, wounds both visible and not come back with the boys from across the sea, but he realizes that what he's really looking for is a miracle. (edited)

By November, the ticker tape has all washed into the Hudson and the air is going crisp. Jaskier sits behind the stage of a small basement dive. There's a knock at the door and he looks up. The face looks familiar, at least half of it, the other pulled at a rough angle from the scars that are still healing. 

"Eskel!" Jaskier's hand automatically reaches up for the thin pressed metal under his shirt. He realizes he may have slipped on his promise to keep in touch. 

"Hey there, songbird. I have a favor, if it's okay?" 

Eskel doesn't have to say what it is, but when he does, Jaskier agrees without a second thought. Part of it was Eskel's after all. The other part... well the only thing left of that was around Jaskier's neck. 

The lights go up on the stage and Jaskier goes through his usual set, the wooden stool they put out for him mostly ignored. He knows how to play this crowd, and does at least twice a week these days. So when he does sit down, pulling the guitar a little closer to him, a hush falls over the audience.

He waits, with a small smile and it feels like the ones he can see share it with them. They all know this one by now. When the men started to file back home, it was requested a lot. He let his thumb rub over the fine scars that still tug at his palm and takes a deep breath. "If you're still out there, well. You know."

He doesn't have the first chords completely plucked out when his eyes catch on something in the low light of the bar. He doesn't know how he missed it at first but there, leaning against the wall...

".... songbird" Eskel had called him. No one ever called him "songbird" outside of his USO shows except

Jaskier nearly drops his guitar, nearly faints. How.... 

Geralt leans against the wall, arms folded over his chest and his head tilts with a smile, soft and sincere and wholly alive. He gives him a small nod and Jaskier can find the strings again. He's thankful that the song is a short one and he doesn't draw it out as he usually might for dramatic affect or just because he's feeling particularly self indulgent. By the final notes, half of the crowd is singing along while the other half are lost somewhere far away at the bottom of their beers. When Jaskier stands his feet are steadier than he expects them to be and he's already jumping down off the stage. He watches as Geralt moves back out through the door and into the street. 

It's cold and there's the threat of rain heavy in the air but Jaskier didn't grab his coat or anything before following his ghost out into the night. 

Geralt stops just out on the curb and waits. When Jaskier catches up to him he's clutching his guitar to him again, as if it might ward away some inevitable betrayal of his own grief stricken heart. 

"Hey there, you." Geralt's voice is rough and his face seems to be trying to settle on one of a thousand emotions. Jaskier can relate. 

"Hi." Jaskier gives a wet laugh and starts to reach out before pulling his hand back. "I'm not... I think I might have finally had too much gin."

"No," Geralt is shaking his head. He reaches out, broad warm hands taking Jaskier's. 

Oh. They're warm.... They're warm! They’re real!

"How?" Is all he can manage. He still can't bring himself to believe it or even look at Geralt straight on for too long. It hurts. 

"Does it matter?" Geralt is stepping into his space though slowly, letting Jaskier the space to retreat if he needs it. 

"It really fucking does, Geralt! You were... I have." His hand finally works free of Geralt's and goes back to his chest where he knows the dog tags sit over his heart.

"I know." Geralt reaches for him again and Jaskier thinks for a moment that he actually choked on a hard candy backstage and this might be heaven. Man, heaven smells like Queens. What the fuck. 

"You're back?" 

"Yes." 

Jaskier searches his face and smiles. His heart feels like it's cracking all over again but it might be the thawing of months of bitter cold. "And you're..." He doesn't know how to say this next part. 

"Back for you, yes." It's not a statement so much as a plea and Jaskier beams through a sob. “And I don’t plan on going anywhere again. Should have realized this was where I belonged in the first place,” Geralt's arms around him in a second and the blood rushing in Jaskier's ears sounds like the tide finally coming back in.

[freehawaii]

HAWAI`I MUSEUM REVISITS HISTORY OF GENDER-FLUID HEALERS

Associated Press - July 7, 2022

HONOLULU (AP) — More than 500 years ago, Hawaiians placed four boulders on a Waikiki beach to honor visitors from the court of Tahiti’s king who had healed the sick. They were “mahu,” which in Hawaiian language and culture refers to someone with dual male and female spirit and a mixture of gender traits.

The stones were neglected for many years, as Christian missionaries and other colonizing Westerners suppressed the role of mahu in Hawaiian society. At one point a bowling alley was built over the boulders.

Officials restored the stones multiple times since the 1960s but informational plaques installed next to them omitted references to mahu.

The stones and the history of the four healers now are featured in an exhibit at Bishop Museum in Honolulu. The display highlights the deep roots of gender fluidity in Polynesia.

Hinaleimoana Wong-Kalu is mahu and one of the exhibit’s curators. She said the healers were revered for their skill and hopes their story will show children in Hawaii that “proper Hawaiian culture” doesn’t pass judgment against those “who have elements of duality.”

“They were respected and honored because the people knew that their male and female duality made them even more powerful a healer,” Wong-Kalu said.

Kapaemahu was the leader of the four healers, and the exhibit is named The Healer Stones of Kapaemahu. Their story was passed down orally, like all Hawaiian stories, until a written language was developed in the 1800s.

But Hawaiians were discouraged from talking about mahu. DeSoto Brown, a Bishop Museum historian and the exhibit’s lead curator, said Christian missionaries who arrived in 1820 forbade anything that deviated from “clearly defined roles and presentation” of male and female genders.

The earliest known written account of the mahu healers is a 1906 manuscript by James Alapuna Harbottle Boyd, the son-in-law of Archibald Cleghorn, who owned the Waikiki property where the stones were at the time. Cleghorn’s wife, Princess Likelike, and daughter, Princess Kaiulani, were known to place seaweed and offer prayers at the stones when they swam.

Boyd’s manuscript “Tradition of the Wizard Stones of Ka-Pae-Mahu” said the Hawaiian people loved the healers for their “tall stature, courteous ways and kindly manners” and their cures became famous across Oahu.

“Their ways and great physique were overshadowed by their low, soft speech, and they became as one with those they came in contact with,” Boyd wrote. “They were unsexed, by nature, and their habits coincided with their womanly seeming, although manly in stature and general bearing.”

When it was time for the healers to leave, four boulders were brought down from Oahu’s Kaimuki area. Two were placed at the site of the healers’ hut and the others where they bathed in the ocean. Idols indicating the dual spirit of the healers were placed under each stone.

Many Hawaiians grew up not knowing about Hawaiian concepts of mahu or the stones because the American businessmen who overthrew the Hawaiian monarchy in 1893 banned Hawaiian language instruction in schools and discouraged speaking it in homes. Generations of Hawaiians lost connections to cultural traditions.

Wong-Kalu, 50, said as a child she was made to believe mahu was a derogatory word. She remembers being among those who would sit on the stones and drape towels over them after swimming, oblivious to their significance.

Mahu are akin to “two-spirit” common in many Native American cultures, Wong-Kalu said, adding there are physical, emotional, mental and spiritual elements to being mahu. The representation of male and female depends on the person, she said.

“In Hawaii, one could exist really in the middle,” she said.

The stones nearly were lost just before the 1941 Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. At the time, the Honolulu Star-Bulletin reported the boulders would be blasted or removed after a developer leased Cleghorn’s property to build a bowling alley.

Following an outcry, plans emerged for a concrete walkway between the stones. But the developer instead built over them.

The stones were uncovered two decades later when the city tore down buildings to build a public beach park. Elders recalled the story of the stones and urged they remain. The city agreed and created a plaque that mentioned the Tahitian healers but didn’t say anything about them being mahu.

In 1997, the city fenced off the stones and dedicated a new plaque. It also didn’t reference mahu.

During both periods, waves of homophobia and transphobia washed over Honolulu. In the 1960s, a new state law prohibited cross-dressing and police forced drag performers to wear a button saying: “I Am A Boy.” Three decades later, there was backlash in Hawaii and nationally when the Hawaii Supreme Court sided with same-sex couples seeking the right to marry.

The Bishop Museum exhibit, on display through Oct. 16, recounts this history and displays artifacts like massage sticks and a medicine pounder that healers would have used centuries ago. Islander concepts of gender fluidity are explored through stories like that of King Kamehameha III and his male lover.

A map shows terms used in Polynesia for those who don’t identify as male or female, including “fa’afafine” in Samoa and “leiti” in Tonga.

Dean Hamer and Joe Wilson helped curate the exhibit and hope it will spur the city to tell the full story of the mahu at the site of the stones.

Ian Scheuring, spokesperson for Honolulu Mayor Rick Blangiardi, said the city is researching the issue and local leaders plan to meet with members of the LGBTQ and Native Hawaiian communities to learn how they can help tell the “true and complete” story of the healers.

Tatiana Kalaniopua Young, a Native Hawaiian anthropologist, mahu and a director of the Hawaii LGBT Legacy Foundation, said the story the stones and healers helped her family understand that she was not “this weird creature that’s outside of the norm.” And that in a Hawaiian sense, she was part of the norm.

“It gave me a sense of place and purpose as a mahu and it really made me proud to be Kanaka Maoli, or Native Hawaiian,” she said.

[katb357]

Sicktember 6: Sick on Vacation”

Tim McGee/Delilah Fielding McGee/NCIS

Delilah Fielding McGee looked at her ticket as they called out the number. Her eyes widened as she realized they had called her number. She had won the grand prize! She was so surprised she couldn’t speak for a moment, and then finally she waved the ticket over her head, and cried, “I got it, that’s mine!” Various groans of disappointment and comments of congratulations followed her as she wheeled her way through the crowd towards the HR Director to collect her prize. It wasn’t till she held the voucher envelope in her hand that it hit her. She’d won a ten day all-expense paid cruise for two to Hawaii…fly to Los Angeles, cruise from San Pedro, five-day island hop and fly home from Honolulu.

She’d never cruised before, and neither had Tim. Oh no! Tim had never cruised due to his getting seasick. But she desperately wanted to go on this cruise with him. There just had to be a way to work this out. She’d suggest Dramamine, but he used that at work, and he was starting to build up a tolerance to it, so he tried hard to have someone else go out on water scenes.

She decided to wait to tell Tim about the cruise until they were both home from work and the twins were in bed. Fortunately, that night, crime cooperated and Tim actually got home at a decent hour. She fixed a really good dinner, and got the kids to bed with a minimum of fuss. They settled on the couch to watch a movie.

While Tim was idly flipping through the channels, Delilah nervously reached into her bag for the voucher. Silently she handed it to him as she spoke. “Remember that raffle from work? I won, Tim.”

Without reading it, Tim grinned. “You did? That’s great, baby! What did you win?”

“Umm, you better read it.”

Tim looked at her oddly for a moment and then read the letter. He looked back at his wife, his eyes wide with abject horror. “A cruise? Are you kidding me? Why’d you even enter a raffle for a cruise?”

“Because it was for a good cause, and because I never win these things. I never thought about it again after I entered the raffle. The ticket was $25. and hundreds of people entered from what I understand. The odds were totally against me winning. Please, Tim. Let’s do this. I’ve never been on a cruise. Maybe Palmer can give you a shot or something.”

Tim sighed. “Yeah, maybe.” He looked into his wife’s hopeful eyes. “Okay. Yeah, let’s do it. I have some vacation time built up. Let’s coordinate our schedules. Besides, I’ve heard those oceanliners are pretty smooth out there on the open ocean.���

Delilah squealed and hugged Tim tightly. “Thank you, sweetheart! You won’t regret this!”

Three Weeks Later

Tim was regretting coming on this cruise with all his heart and all his stomach. He lay curled in a ball on the bed in their stateroom. He was miserably seasick. It was just their luck that an underwater volcano had erupted several hundred miles from their location and caused an earthquake, which in turned caused abnormally rough seas. They were two days out of Los Angeles and Tim was sure he was going to die… or more precisely, he really wished he would.

Delilah was doing her best to help him, since the Dramamine was doing nothing, and it had turned out there were no long-term anti-nausea shots after all. She bathed his forehead with cool, damp washcloths, held a basin for him when he needed it, and generally went above and beyond, according to poor Tim. She was just doing what she knew he would do for her if the situation was reversed.

A couple of days later the seas eased, and Tim felt slightly better. The Dramamine started working, and he was able to enjoy the cruise a bit more. Ironically, that evening, he felt up to floating in a rubber life preserver in the huge pool with Delilah and watching Jaws on their giant movie screen. Apparently, it was a tradition. They had a blast.

That night was a turning point in the cruise, and they had a wonderful time sailing from island to island, shopping, playing tourist, and learning about island lore and history. They decided they would have to return someday to the islands, to take more time to just soak them in. But for now, it was time to fly out of Honolulu and return home. One thing they were both very grateful for. Neither Delilah nor Tim got airsick.

The End

[mediocre-writerr]

already gone [shelby goodkind]

shelby goodkind x reader

summary: it seems like everything is a losing battle, based off the song already gone by sleeping at last

*not my gif*

Shelby looked out of the plane window as the sky was a blue-ish gray-ish color. The clouds overhead looked like those cliché ones in movies where the protagonist just lost everything. Well that’s ironic.

Everything seemed so bland without you. The blonde Texan would usually be excited to be going on an airplane to Hawaii, but without you it didn’t matter.

The two of you wanted things together. A life with her and escaping the small town stereotypes and prejudices. Where the two of you could hold hands in public and kiss without the fear of her dad coming in. It was a constant thought of happiness, but now it’s just an empty laugh.

But Shelby can’t let it go. Not for the life of her.

She was slowly putting together that the two of you weren’t mean to last. No matter how hard you tried or wanted to work on it, someone was bound to get hurt.

Her thoughts were broken when the intercom overhead blasted through her ears, “Hello girls, this is your captain speaking. We are a few minutes off from taking off, as soon as we take off put your phone in airplane mode and thank you for flying with us,”

Shelby didn’t know what she was thinking. But it obviously wasn’t clearly. She sprung up from her seat and headed towards the bathroom, not thinking twice about dialing your number.

“Shelby? Is everything okay? Aren’t you on a plane right now?” your voice cracked with too many nights of crying to yourself over the perfect blonde who fixed and broke your heart all at the same time.

The blonde was taken aback. She didn’t think you’d pick up.

“Yeah, I am...on the plane I mean. I’m not okay, how could I be okay after letting you go?” she whispered.

“Shelby, why are you calling? Why are you making this harder than it has to be?” you snapped, your voice laced with venom.

“I wanted to apologize. Never did I ever mean to hurt you, please know that. I want you to know that I love you with everything in me. Baby, you couldn’t have loved me better,” her voice cracked and you released a muffled sob, “I hope that one day you’ll be able to move on,”

“Shelby,” you whispered. Your voice weak as Shelby looks up at the plane ceiling to stop herself from crying.

“It all started with most perfect kiss and that’s when the poison set in. And I knew that, I knew you deserved someone better. Someone will be with you every step of the way. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you go, I’m sorry I was so selfish,”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, “I wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the entire world,”

“I also know that I love you...I love you enough to let you go. And I know I shouldn’t have called and it’s my dad’s fault-“ she said before stopping, “No it was my fault. I should’ve never listened to him, but you deserve way more than I could ever offer you. Someone who isn’t afraid to hide who they are, someone who isn’t afraid of their family or their reputation,”

There was silence on the phone so the blonde Texan continued, “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you realize that someday that this was right. That I was holding you back from being truly happy,”

“Stop Shelb, stop degrading yourself. You were the best decision I’ve ever made,” you told her.

She smiled softly, “And you were my peace and sanity from that horrid place we call home. Maybe in another life we were meant to be, but we’re already gone,”

There was a knock on the bathroom door, “Uh Shelby?” Dot’s voice cut in, “You need to sit down, plane’s about to take off,”

Shelby let out a shaky sigh, “I have to go, darling. I wish you all the stars in the sky. You have the universe in your hands,”

“Goodbye, Shelby,” you whispered.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” That stung she never called you by your first name.

She was about to hang up when you stopped her, “Shelb?” All the blonde did was hum in response, “I’m always gonna love you,”

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)

a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 6.7k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten

January, 2018

A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way. 

I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl. 

“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway. 

“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”

Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”

“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”

“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”

“Ta-ta.”

Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby. 

Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens.  Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail. 

“Where are you going?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name. 

“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.” 

She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns. 

The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message. 

Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?

Harry: See you there. 

********

“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”

Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits. 

“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”

“When are you going, again?”

“Next month,”  

Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”

“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”

“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”

“Literally everyone.”

“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”

The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her. 

“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take. 

Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door. 

********

“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee. 

“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”

Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”

“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”

“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”

“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”

Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”

“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests. 

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”

“Some food for thought.”

The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out. 

********

“Where’s Alani?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.” 

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t  know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden. 

********

Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected,  and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry. 

“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden. 

“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning. 

Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”

Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”

“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”

But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag. 

********

“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue. 

Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set. 

“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.

Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song. 

“Alright, then it’s—”

“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”

“Run ‘Meet Me’?”

“Yeah,”

Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.  

“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”

Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords. 

Meet me in the hallway 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”

Meet me in the hallway 

“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

I just left your bedroom 

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Give me some morphine 

“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

Is there any more to do?

“Please don’t go.”

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”

Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”

Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”

“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”

The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt? 

The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction. 

Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly. 

“Hello?”

“Darling, hello! Where are you?”

“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”

“Is everything okay?”

Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”

“Christ, from where?”

“Bisous,”

Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”

“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”

The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already?  She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way. 

********

“10 minutes!”

Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in. 

“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”

“We did it?”

“You did it,”

So why does it still hurt? 

“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”

Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.

It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different. 

The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written. 

“I should go back,” 

“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”

“I have to go back.” 

And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets. 

The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said. 

I walked the streets all day 

Running with the thieves 

‘Cause you left me in the hallway 

Just take my pain away 

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”

Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”

“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”

“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on. 

********

This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing? 

“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”

The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face. 

“Nice try,”

“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”

“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”

Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”

As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow. 

“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”

“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”

Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”

The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”

“Follow me, please,”

Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.

 “Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”

Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain. 

“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”

“Thief,”

“I meant to return it.”

Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile. 

“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”

A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart. 

“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”

“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly. 

Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return. 

“You did, this is a hologram projection,”

Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him. 

“Did you enjoy—”

“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping. 

“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”

Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”

Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie. 

“What?”

“Have dinner with me?”

Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”

“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her. 

She nods and he takes a step back. 

“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases. 

He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”

Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway. 

When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits. 

“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside. 

“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.

********

“We’re not eating here?” 

A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning. 

“No,”  he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”

“Oh,” 

It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed. 

“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten. 

“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”

Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”

“Please?”

He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees. 

“What’s it called?” she questions. 

“It’s just my name,”

“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”

“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”

Alani hums. “Prince,”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”

“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?

“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues. 

Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”

“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”

He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go. 

“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”

Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”

She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her. 

“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space. 

If you’re gonna let me down 

Let me down gently don’t pretend 

That you don’t want me 

Our love ain’t water under the bridge

********

Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors. 

“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”

Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”

“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors. 

“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”

“I pulled some strings,”

She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues. 

“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”

Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”

“Jim?”

“The director.”

“Of course.” 

Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside. 

“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them. 

Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.

“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”

“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”

“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”

“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”

And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up. 

“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long. 

Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”

“Where at?”

“Rolling Stone,”

“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”

“Thank you,” she replies graciously. 

Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”

“Yeah, in the Village,”

“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”

“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”

“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.

“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” 

“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,” 

“I was,” 

“I didn’t watch it, sorry,” 

Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”

“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words. 

Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.” 

Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home. 

They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh. 

“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically. 

“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,” 

“I think she would’ve found it flattering,” 

“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,” 

Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,” 

“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying. 

“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,” 

Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts. 

“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?” 

The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did. 

“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears. 

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back. 

Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat. 

“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”

“I have to go—”

“Just stop for a minute, please,”

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers. 

“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”

Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.  

“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”

“Alani—”

“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”

“Stop apologizing—”

“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”

Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over. 

“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”

Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond. 

“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”

He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”

They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw. 

“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”

Alani blinks. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”

“Harry—”

“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”

He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”

Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound. 

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”

Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch. 

“Can I show you something?”

You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”

He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it. 

“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”

An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces. 

“Where did you say the original was?”

“New York Botanical Garden,” 

 “M’gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring. 

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks. 

Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue. 

“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”

Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak. 

“Do you know what that feeling is called?”

“No,”

“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”

His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.

“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”

“What did you wish for?” Harry searches. 

Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”

His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”

Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go. 

********

February 14, 2018

“Comment est le temps?” 

Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”

He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her. 

“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,” 

“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”

“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”

Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow. 

“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”

“Oui,”

“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”

“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”

He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”

“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”

“Sure does, sweets.”

Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs  her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back. 

“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes. 

She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris. 

We don’t know where we’re going 

But we know where we belong 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn 

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature 

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road 

You bring me home

[featherymalignancy]

PART ONE — The Eyes of Texas: A Rowaelin Origin Story 🏐 🍺 ❤️

Long before Cash and Nesta, there was Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant from the United States Navy—takes a break from studying of the police academy exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

This takes place in the same AU-verse as my Nessian story In Vino Veritas, about four years before. 

This is a two-part story, you can jump to Part Two here. ♥️ 

The Eyes of Texas, Part ONE

No matter how many times he made the journey, Rowan Whitethorn always found a wonder in returning home. He’d been glued to the window on the plane’s final descent into Maui three days ago, drinking in the sight of the Kahului Bay’s glittering waters and the distant peaks of Haleakalā rising up like silent guardians in the distance. It had only been six months since he’d last been home, but it still made his heart race; he doubted it would ever fail to take his breath away.

It had only gotten better when he’d landed and found not just Cash and Fen waiting for him, but Lorcan as well. The self-proclaimed success story of the friend group, Lor had gotten a full-ride to MIT and graduated with a 4.0 before being recruited to some tech giant in the Silicon Valley. It didn’t matter how times Rowan tried to point out that he himself had needed a recommendation from a US Senator to get into the Naval Academy; Lor would simply start rattling off college rankings and acceptance rates until Rowan conceded defeat just to shut him up. 

Even though they lived down the California coast from one another, Rowan rarely got to see Lor. So far as any of them could tell, Lorcan’s whole life was his job, and despite his obscene salary, he rarely took days off, let alone vacations. So for him to come to see Rowan play in the tournament--Ro didn’t think he needed to tell his friend what it meant to him. Not that it would have mattered if he had; the only thing Lor wasn’t good at was talking about his feelings. A likely culprit for why he didn’t have a girlfriend, considering their friend Essar had once dubbed him “the hottest man on all eight islands”. 

From the airport they’d driven across the island in Cash’s beater pick-up, Rowan in the cab and Lor and Fen riding in back. It had reminded Rowan of old times, of being 18 and carefree. It reminded him of life before his mom had died, before the Academy and his naval service, before Lyria and the cancer and all the heartache that had come after. 

Sitting in the truck, the radio blasting and Cash’ squawking tunelessly along with it, Rowan had felt more himself than he had in months. The stress of studying for the detective’s exam had been wearing on him more than he’d realized, and in that moment it had struck him how badly he’d needed this distraction. A glance at Cash had told him his friend was thinking the same thing.

Cash had been Rowan’s best friend since before he could honestly remember, and despite Lor’s obnoxious declarations to the contrary, Cash was hands-down the smartest person Rowan knew. It had come as a surprise, then, when they’d all started growing up and talking about college and Cash had shown no interest. Neither had Fen, but that Ro had expected. The free spirit of the lot, he seemed perfectly content to stay at home and work odd jobs so long as he could still surf every day. But Cash...he’d always seemed a little lost to Ro. Just a late bloomer, his mother had always insisted. Some of the best people take the longest to develop. Still, Rowan had assumed that now that they were in their mid-twenties, Cash would have figured it out. As far as he knew, though, Cash was still working at the same stuffy restaurant he’d worked at when they were teenagers, though he’d thankfully graduated from a dishwasher to a server and an occasional bartender.

 As if he’d known what Ro had been thinking, Cash turned to grin at him, a secret smile that traditionally had spelled trouble, getting grounded, and occasionally running from the police.

“I have some news,” he’d said, eyes twinkling. “Remind me to tell you later.”

Ro had meant to ask the minute they’d gotten back to the house, but suddenly there was a shot in his hand and everything else had faded away. They’d partied all night and well into the next day, a decision he’d regretted when they’d all piled onto the ferry to Waikiki for the tournament. Thankfully they’d still had half a day to recover at the hotel before the tournament began, though the trip had gotten decidedly less restful when they’d arrived to find Remy waiting for them, already pissed off. 

According to his friends, Remelle St. James was Rowan’s greatest sin. They’d dated on-and-off through high school in what Cash had generously described as a slow-burning dumpster fire, but had lost touch after Ro had left for the Naval Academy and Remy accepted a scholarship to play volleyball at UC Irvine. It was only after Lyria’s diagnosis, and—a devastatingly short six months later—her death that Rowan and Remelle reconnected. For all her other faults, Remy had also lost a sister to cancer young, and she’d been there to counsel Rowan through the worst of his grief.

 Her romantic pursuit of him the following year was admittedly less admirable, and Rowan had been quick to lessen his connection to her when it became clear what she wanted from him.  Still, that had been almost a year ago, and when she’d called to suggest he come to Hawaii and play in this invitational with her, it had been an offer he couldn’t refuse. Remy was one of the best amateur players on the circuit, having just missed the opportunity to play professionally on the AVP tour the previous year. It was why she’d called, she claimed. This tournament was a great way to get exposure, and mixed doubles was a much higher profile division than that of female twos.His friends, on the other hand, had immediately called bullshit.

“As much as I want to see you,” Fen had said when Rowan had first called with her proposal. “She’s playing you, brother. No offense, but there are tons of guys here she could recruit if she wanted. She asked you because, once again, she’s trying to dig her claws in.”

“Hate to agree,” Cash had chimed in. “But he’s totally right. She just wants in your board shorts.”

“Are you saying you don’t think I’m good enough to win?” Rowan had countered.

He could picture Cash rolling his eyes from 2,500 miles away.

“Of all the things we just said, how was that your takeaway?”“I never get to play anymore,” Rowan had admitted. “And I miss it. I think I’m just going to do it.”

“In that case, can’t wait to see you, brother.”

And that had been that. It had seemed a great idea up until he’d spotted Remy glowering at him in the lobby yesterday, and now, in the midst of the fourth set of the semifinal match, he was wondering if his friends hadn’t been right.

Game Point, he reminded himself. Just one more point and they’d be in the finals. Just one more point and he could take a blessed break from Remy and all her castigations.He stretched a hand behind him as Remy stepped back to serve, flashing two fingers to signal he would be blocking cross. He could hear her huff of disapproval even with his back to her. They’d been having problems with their coverage all game, and though Rowan could have very reasonably argued it was because of Remy’s defense, she’d blamed his position on the block.

“What’s the point of being a giant,” she’d snarled after the last point they’d lost. “If you can’t shut a hitter down at the net?”

“I’m trying to force the spot you keep saying you want,” he’d snapped back. “Maybe after this game you might want to look into a digging clinic.”

He heard the snap as the ball was served, tracking his opponents through the net as they received. It was a less than stellar pass from the guy, and though the set his teammate gave him was decent, Ro could see the swing was going to be exactly where he wanted it.

He lingered to the left until the last moment, feigning a block that would force the hit line. He struck just as the hitter began to make contact, taking a quick step to the right before exploding up. Rowan could feel in the way his muscles uncoiled that it had been a perfect jump, and he turned his face away to avoid a broken nose as his hands made contact with the ball. He could tell from the sound alone how dominating a block it had been, and he wasn’t surprised as he watched the ball fall into the sand on the opposite court, it’s angle so punishing there had been no chance for a defense.

The gathering crowd erupted in cheers, and Rowan turned to Remy in celebration, only to find her lips pursed.

“Nice block. I hope this means you’re going to actually listen to me next match.”

Too annoyed to respond to that, Rowan turned to shake hands with the opposing team before stalking past Remy to where his friends were lounging. Unsurprisingly, she was right on his heels, pushing the water bottle he’d about to take a sip from away and scowling at him.“I told you that you needed to be more aggressive on the block,” she said. “Would it honestly kill you to admit I’m right?” “Every block can’t be a roof, Rem! You need to be quicker at reading the coverage or we are going to lose in the finals.”

Remy crossed her arms. 

“You’re just mad because you don’t have the stamina to keep jumping like that.”

“Don’t start with me about stamina,” Rowan said. “For someone who is hoping to get on the tour, you’re lagging on defense.”

Rowan was unsurprised when she reached back and slapped him in the face, though the blow had admittedly come fast enough that he hadn’t had time to avoid it.

“You’re an ass,” Remy snarled, tears in her eyes.

Once, that might have been enough to get him to soften his tone. After ten years of dealing with her gaslighting, he was now sure that they were manufactured. 

“Do not do that again,” he said in a quiet voice. At this more tears welled, and she reached up to touch his face, her small palms resting on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Ro,” she said, eyes flicking briefly to his lips. “I’m just--there’s a lot riding on this for me.”

“Our next match is in twenty minutes,” Rowan said, peeling her hands off of him. “Get some water and walk it off.”

She seemed put out at the dismissal, but she must have known she had little recourse to argue after slapping him, so she simply nodded and turned away, giving his friends a hateful look for good measure before stalking off. Fen watched her go with unveiled distaste before turning to Rowan and shaking his head. 

“Dude, I know I’m gay, but I will never understand what you see in that girl. She straight sucks.”

Cash bubbled his lips in agreement.

“There’s nothing to see,” Lor said. “She’s a fucking nightmare.”

“Here, here,” Cash said, and Rowan rolled his eyes.“We’ve been playing together forever,” he protested. “And Remy knows we aren’t...seeing each other anymore.”

“Does she?” Lor drawled. “Just because you’re not banging her right now doesn’t mean she’s done with you, Whitethorn. Remelle St. James is not a girl you can just walk away from.”

“We’re twos partners, not soulmates,” Ro said. “And if playing with Remy means winning this tournament, I don’t really care what you jackasses think of it, or of her.”

“The sets cannot be worth it,” Lorcan drawled, sounding bored.

“She’s the best amateur female player in this tournament,” Rowan snapped back.

“Please,” Fen said. “She’s barely in the top five.”

“And who’s number one, then?”

Fen grinned, dark eyes fiendish.

“You haven’t heard? There’s a chick here from the University of Texas, and apparently she’s—”

“Holy shit,” Cash interrupted, eyes skating over Rowan’s shoulder. “Who is that?”

Rowan turned in time to watch the hottest woman he’d ever seen saunter towards them. She was taller than average—easily exceeding six feet—and corded with a sleek musculature that would have heralded her as a volleyball player even if they weren’t at a tournament. Her gorgeously tanned legs went on for an eternity, and he felt his mouth go dry at seeing the minuscule bikini bottoms she wore, the burnt orange Lycra hugging a toned ass that told him she probably had a damn good vertical. Her long blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail and braided in the popular style, and when she turned to smirk at him in a flash of pearly teeth and dazzling blue eyes, he felt a little weak.

“Goddamn,” Cash said, interrupting Rowan’s reverie. “She is fucking gorgeous.”

“That’s her,” Fen said. “From UT. Aelin Galathynius. Ro, I hope you and Remy can pull it together for this match. Otherwise this girl is gonna fuck you up.”

They all watched as she trotted onto the court, bending over in a stretch Rowan was afraid was going to make his board shorts too tight.

“God lord, she is perfect,” Cash said, tilting his head slightly to better admire her well-formed assets.Rowan felt a prickle of irritation at his friend's appraisal, but before he could address it, or—more realistically—dismiss it, Lor gave an unimpressed snort.

“She’s too tall.”

“I don’t understand how a guy pushing seven feet can have a maximum height restriction for the women he dates,” Fen said.

Lor only shrugged with a smirk, but Rowan was barely listening. He felt another twinge of displeasure zip down his spine as he watched a muscular blonde frat star stride onto the court towards the Galathynius girl, who beamed at seeing him.“That her boyfriend?” He asked, trying not to sound overly put-out by the idea.

 “Cousin, I think,” Lor said, expression gloriously bored. “Aedion Ashryver. I played him in a tournament in Miami last year. He’s marginally above average.”

“High praise, coming from you,” Fen said, earning only an eye roll in response.They watched as Ashryver took several exploratory swings, Aelin working out her wrists as he did. Rowan admired her flawless form as she gave her cousin a tight set and he crushed the ball into a sand on a punishing downward trajectory.

“Nice hands,” Cash said, eyes alight with appreciation as she shot Aedion a quick set to a similarly successful result.

“I can block him,” Rowan said, trying to read Aedion’s form for flaws. “He’s swinging hard, but he’s hit that same spot every time.”

“That’s not going to be enough on its own,” Lor said dryly. “Your best bet is to force Galynthius to receive first then shut her down on the block. I bet her swing is weak.”

“That opinion is completely baseless,” Cash said. “You have no idea what her swing is like.”

“I know that cocky assholes are never as good as they are obnoxious,” Lorcan retorted, gesturing to the Galythinius girl again.She’d seemed to have taken note of their attention, hands on her hips as surveyed Rowan from head to toe. Something about the way she looked at him—her tongue tucked almost suggestively into her cheek—had pleasant goosebumps breaking out on his arms.

Given her brazen assessment, Rowan felt justified in studying her as well, trying to school his expression into that of a player sizing up an opponent for weaknesses. In reality, he was just admiring her.The sports bra she wore did nothing to minimize her gorgeously firm tits, and her stomach was an alluring tapestry of muscle, the smooth bronze skin unblemished save for the corner of a tattoo which peaked out from the top of her bikini bottoms. From it’s color and shape, Rowan thought it might be a flag, though he couldn’t see enough of it to tell which country. Before he could stop himself, Rowan imagined peeling the offending garment off her and getting a better look. Rowan tried to get his mind right as Aelin Galynthius gave him a smouldering grin and turned away, but he was still so caught up in her that he flinched when he felt Remy’s fingers trailing down his back.

“You ready, babe? Let’s do this.”Rowan definitely debated telling her not to call him that, but not wanting to reignite the tension when they were so close to winning he simply nodded and headed towards the court to warm up as well. 

“Good luck, champ,” Fen said. “Make sure you find out if she’s single for Cash.”

Rowan flipped him off and jogged onto the court, trying to ignore the way Aelin Galynthius’s eyes raked him appreciatively as he passed her.

Still relatively loose from the previous match, Rowan sped through warm-ups, not wanting to give the Ashryvver cousins too much insight into his skill level. When they were done, the tournament organizer came over to congratulate the four of them on their place in the finals before briefly running through the rules.

“There will be a line judge to settle any disputes, but you’re mostly expected to police yourself. We’re all adults here, so I expect everyone to behave like it.”

At this the Ashryvver cousins exchanged a mirthful look that failed to go unnoticed by any of the assembled. Rowan could feel Remy bristling beside him. She only grew more rigid when Aelin let her dazzling blue eyes slide to Rowan and she winked. 

“It’s best of five this match, first to twenty-five, win by two, cap at 30. Switch on hard sevens. Any questions?”

“I have one,” Aedion said, a bronzed grin stretching wide enough to reveal dimples in his cheeks. “When we win, am I going to get lei-ed?”

Rowan rolled his eyes, fighting down a searing stab of annoyance. Ethnically, his family may not have been kānaka maoli, but Rowan had lived in Hawaii his entire life, and the culture was important to him. Why wasn’t he surprised that this haole douchebag had just gone for the most tired pun in existence?

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he told Ashryvver. “The losers don’t get shit.”

At this, Galathynius laughed, the sound low and musical.“I love a man who knows how to dream big.”

“Shall we?” The coordinator cut in, his gaze flitting between Aelin and Remy, who Rowan presumed was scowling.

They nodded and he flipped a coin, which Rowan called in the air.

“Heads.”The shaggy-haired coordinator extended his arm to show them the gleaming head of Sacagawea on the gold dollar coin.

“We’ll serve,” Rowan said, forcing himself to shake Aedion Ashryvver’s hand as he did.

Enough of this bullshit, he was ready to beat this punk into the dusk. He was also ready to put some distance between himself and Aelin Galathynius before her beauty robbed him of any good sense. Together or no, Remy would have his balls on the grill if he openly flirted with someone else in front of her, and it was a complication he couldn’t afford this close to victory.

It was easier said than done when Aelin slid her hand into his, squeezing in a way that felt oddly suggestive. However, it only lasted a second before she was turning on her heel and strutting to her side of the court.

“Good luck,” she said over her shoulder, brushing the long tail of her braid down her back. “You’re going to need it.”

Remy growled something that sounded suspiciously like “bitch” as she took her place behind the serving line. Rowan gave her what he hoped was an encouraging nod as he made his way towards the net, hand stretched behind him to give Remy the block signal.

Aelin Galathynius grinned at him through the net, blue eyes glittering before she slid on a pair of sunglasses.

“So,” she said as Remy continued to prepare. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

There was a pleasant cadence to her voice when she spoke, the trace of an accent he couldn’t quite place.

“Trying to get in my head?” he shot back, willing himself not to fall for her tantalizing games.

Aelin gave a sultry laugh.

“More like your pants.”

At this he heard the snap of the ball being served, and he swore as he watched it sail into the net. It wasn’t like Remy to make service errors, but the dirty look she gave him as he retreated to receive Aedion’s serve told him she considered it his fault.

“Are you done flirting,” she hissed as he passed her. “Can we focus on winning now?”

Rowan longed to snap back a retort that he hadn’t been flirting and she was the one who seemed to be lacking focus, but by this time Aedion was behind the line, preparing to serve. Rowan watched the toss and adjusted his position the minute Aedion made contact, easily receiving the ball. He called for a hit outside, but Remy’s set drew him into the interior of the court instead, almost as if she were trying to pull him away from Aelin.

Adjusting his position, Rowan swung. It was Aelin who received the dig and Rowan quickly retreated along the net, ready to stuff her on the block. He was in the perfect position to cut off the diagonal hitting lane, leaving her to either tap it over—an easy receive for him—or shoot line. Rowan thought of what Lorcan had said about her weak swing as she approached, and part of him hoped she would attempt a cross so he could show her how it was done.

He crouched, muscles burning in anticipation to spring up and stuff the ball right back in Aelin Galathynius’s smug face.

Except, he didn’t.

Aelin exploded into the air as the ball reached her, her vertical impreeven given her height. In a flick of her wrist, she’d tattooed the ball right down the undefended right line. Remy made a dive for it, but Rowan could tell from the minute Aelin had hit it that it was a point.

It was—she was—

Rowan shook his head, slightly dazed. Whatever skill Rowan had expected from her, she’d just blown right past it. She was phenomenal.And what was more, she knew it. When Rowan had finally gathered his wits enough to glance at her, it was to find her grinning back.

“Welcome to the majors, Big Boy,” she purred, and Rowan couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her or throttle her as he retreated back to his receive position.

Ashryvvers: 1 Remy & Ro: 0.

Rowan’s warring aggravation and admiration raged on all through the first set, which he and Remy lost...badly.He tried to ignore his friends’ jeers as he retreated to hydrate before the second set began, trying to analyze Aelin’s game for flaws.The problem was, there were none, at least that he could see.

“So what’s she like?” Fen asked as Rowan took another sip of gatorade. “Seems like you two were really hitting it off out there.”

“Annoying,” Ro replied. “She’s got Remy all riled up.”

Remy had refused to speak to Rowan after the set, and she was currently standing alone in the middle of the court, glaring daggers at the Ashyrvver cousins.

“Like I said,” Lor said in a dry voice. “That she-demon has plans for you. She doesn’t like that Galathynius is moving in on what she sees as her turf.”

“What are you even talking about ‘turf’?”

“I think he means your dick, man,” Cash added, grinning when Rowan turned to glower.

“I do,” Lor said. 

“I’m not sleeping with either of them,” Rowan said, trying to reassure himself. 

“Sure you aren’t,” Fen said, shooting Lorcan and Cash a conspiratorial wink. “Do you mind if I quote you on that in my best man’s speech? Aelin seems like a girl who appreciates irony.”

“You aren’t going to be his best man,” Cash said. “Obviously it’s going to be me.”

“Ro can’t choose a best man who's already slobbered over his bride,” Lor pointed out. “So it has to be me.”

“It will be none of you,” Rowan said. “Because I would never marry a girl like that.”

Cash gave a bemused laugh.“Like what, gorgeous?”

“Athletic?” Fen added.

“Sharp-tongued?”

“Talented?”

Rowan growled.

“Remind me why I bother with any of you,” he said, tossing his empty bottle to Cash before jogging on the court.

One good thing about his friends’ teasing: it had fired him up. Even with Remy obviously still mad at him, he dominated in the second set, and the third. Between both Ashryvvers’ ability to jump and play defense, he never managed a clean kill—the kind he normally wracked up by the dozens against other, lesser opponents. Still, it was enough.

Unfortunately, Aelin continued to make comments and give him sly looks even as the score turned against her, and Rowan could feel it wearing on Remy. By the fourth set, Remy was visibly flustered, the sizable lead Rowan had given them late in the game shrinking as Remy continued to make useless mistakes.Rowan fought not the swear on game point as Remy went against Aelin on the block and was smoked.

“Lucky shot,” Remy said as she was forced to shake Aelin’s hand to signal the end of the set.  Aelin flashed Remy a taunting smirk that Rowan could tell meant trouble, and he debated the merits of interfering just as Aelin said, “There was nothing lucky about that, and we both know it. Please don’t embarrass yourself.”

“You think you’re better than me?” Remy demanded.

Aelin only laughed.

“No,” she said.

 Rowan may have relaxed at hearing that, but before he could Aelin added, “I know I’m better than you.”

Remy turned, lip curling up.

“Not what the scoresheet says.”

Aelin pushed the sport sunglasses she was wearing on top of her head, presumably so Remy could see her roll those sparkling azure eyes, ringed at the iris with pure gold.

“I think we all know why the score looks like it does,” Aelin shot back, pausing to give Rowan a bone-melting smile. 

Honestly, there was so much sexual charisma in it that he had to actively fight his body’s natural reaction. His brain might not have been a fan of Aelin Galathynius, but his cock sure was.

Remy jammed her hands onto her hips, the rage in her eyes cold enough to burn as she stared Aelin down. Rowan, she ignored.

“I don’t need him,” she snapped. 

Aelin smirk went slightly wicked. 

“Good, then you won’t mind when I take him home later and give him the ride of his life. After my cousin and I bury you in this match and win the tournament, that is.”

Aelin flashed her pearly teeth in a razored smile, letting it rake over Remy before falling on Rowan. He should have been insulted by her objectification, but in reality it just turned up the tension that had been simmering between them since the match had begun.

Remy’s answering laugh was cold, and Rowan braced for impact. Despite her bravura, he doubted the Galathynius girl understood what she was starting. Remy could be downright cruel when provoked, and the gleam in her eye told him she was preparing to go from the jugular.

“As if he’d be interested in a flat-chest, loud-mouthed cunt like you.”

At this Aedion growled, the first serious emotion Rowan had seen him display all day.

“Hey,” he snapped. “Watch your mouth.”

“That’s enough, Rem,” Rowan cut in. “We didn’t come here to talk trash.”

Remy turned, sneering.

“She started it.”

“That can’t honestly be the retort you’re going with,” Aelin said, crossing her arms with a smirk. “I expected better from you, short stack.”

At 5’9, Remy was above-average height for a woman, but compared to Aelin’s towering frame she looked positively impish, a fact Rowan knew probably filled her with rage. She wasn’t used to being looked down on the court, either physically or metaphorically.

Rowan caught her around the waist a second before she lunged, causing Aelin to laugh.

“You’re a bitch,” Remy snapped.

“I’ve been called worse by better,” Aelin said, tossing the ball to Remy with no small amount of force. “Better luck next time.”

Remy let out a small grunt as the ball knocked some of the wind out of her, but she seemed determined not to give Aelin any more than that. Tossing the ball to the ground, she made a show of storming off. 

At this Aelin turned to her cousin, cocking her head back in Remy’s direction.

“Voy a destruirla.”

Aedion laughed and gave a longer response in the same language, and Rowan found his eyes trailing down to Aelin’s tattoo again. At this close distance he could clearly see the white star set into a red triangle, inverted by the position of the tattoo.

The Cuban flag.

Good god, and he thought she’d been distracting before. Knowing that she spoke Spanish…

When he glanced up it was to find Aelin grinning.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she said, running the column of her braid through her fist in a way that had him inevitably imagining her wrapping her hands around something else. “They don’t make gringas this gorgeous.”

“Is this your strategy?” Rowan shot back, desperate to find his footing with her. “Work my partner into a frenzy so we’ll lose?”

Aelin laughed, though her gaze had chilled somewhat.

“I don’t need tricks to beat you, handsome. I think I’ve already proven that.”

“At yet that match is still all tied up, two sets a piece.”Aelin and Aedion exchanged a dangerous smile.

“Maybe I just wanted to prolong the match so I could spend more time with you,” she said. “Clearly I shouldn’t have bothered. Try not to be too embarrassed by what comes next, mi amor. It’s going to get ugly.”

“I can handle it,” Rowan shot back before adding, “And you.”

Far from seeming unnerved, Aelin preened a bit at that, clearly pleased by the challenge.

“Prove it, big boy,” she said, hands on her hips as she squared up to him.

He took a step in her direction, standing toe-to-toe with her now even with the net still between them. She may have been tall for a female, but at 6’6 he still had to tilt his chin down slightly to meet her eye.

 “I intend to,” he said. “Repeatedly.”

She bit her lip at this, the first blush he’d seen burnishing her beautiful bronze skin.

“Basta, Aelin,” Aedion called, cocking his head. “Dale.”

“Good luck, Hulk Smash,” Aelin told Rowan, turning on her heel towards her cousin. 

Rowan couldn't’ find the good sense to move his feet as she sauntered off to join her cousin, the two of them bantering back and forth in rapid Spanish. Cash was going to die when he found out Aelin was Cuban.

 Half-Brazilian himself Cash worshipped Latin women, and for the most part, they—like most women—worshipped him right back.

Ro tried not to let the idea of Cash and Aelin hitting it off bother him as he continued to watch the Ashryvver cousins. Perhaps Aelin would be immune to Cash’s easy charm, though Rowan had to admit it was unlikely. Unlike Rowan, who often came off dour despite his best efforts, Cash was engaging and almost impossible to dislike. More likely than not, Aelin Galathynius would take one look at that million-watt smile and enviable head of dark hair and forget she’d even met Rowan.

The thought was surprisingly irritating, and Ro forced himself to put it aside as the line judge called for the final match to begin. He glanced around in time to see Remy striding back onto the court, her expression more neutral than when she’d stormed off.

“Ready?” he asked simply.Her eyes blazed with a determination she’d lacked since the Ashryvver cousins had gotten in her head.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Let’s end this.”

Something in her bearing had changed, and Ro felt adrenaline surging through him.

This was the player who’d dominated in the matches leading up to this one; this was the teammate who was going to help him shut the Ashryvver’s down once and for all.

They lost the initial coin flip and the Ashryvvers elected to serve, Aelin blowing him a kiss as she stepped behind the line. Rowan ignored her.He had bigger fish to fry.

She had a punishing jump serve that stung Ro’s arms as he received, but he still managed a decent pass, and the set Remy gave him was damn near perfect. Aedion and Aelin shifted as the former dropped back for coverage and the latter  prepared for the block. She’d yet to stuff Rowan, but he couldn’t deny she had hops enough to cause him real problems if he wasn’t careful.Still, the set had drawn Aelin farther into the court than he could tell she liked, leaving the line undefended. Rowan intentionally approached at an angle as if he meant to swing cross before changing his body position last minute and aiming line.

Aelin jumped, but her effort was futile. Her left hand just missed the ball, which sailed down the line and struck deep.Rowan’s first kill of the entire match.He couldn’t help a glance down at Aelin as he smiled.

“Welcome to the big leagues, Galathynius.”

Aelin only rolled her eyes, but she offered no retort as she retreated to Aedion, switching to Spanish presumably to discuss strategy.

With Remy more in the game, she and Ro got out to an early lead, a fact that he could tell filled Aelin with fiery displeasure. As hard as he was swinging, Rowan had finally figured out Aedion’s swing, and though Aelin tried to move him around the court with her sets to avoid Rowan’s block, they were finding only middling success.

Rowan didn’t permit himself to think too much about it as they steadily racked up points, but when he looked up to find the score was 24 - 18, his pulse sped up. 

It was match point. 

One more point, he told himself. One more point and he and Remy would have won the whole damn thing. It was so close he could almost taste it.Still, as he watched Aelin take note of the same thing, her blue eyes flashing, he knew it wouldn’t be as easy as all that. Aedion finally managed a kill the next point, and when Aelin stepped back to serve, everything in her posture signaled danger ahead.

Rowan watched the ball spin as she tossed it in the air, timing her jump to perfection. Remy adjusted to defend the line, but the ball unexpectedly hit the top of the net instead, the force of the blow pushing the ball over onto their court. Remy dove for it but it was no use; it was in the sand even before he hit the ground.

24 - 20.

Aelin gave a self-satisfied smirk as Remy tossed the ball back to her.

“Dare you to do that again,” she snapped, and Aelin’s smile only widened.

Tossing the ball, she did just that. The ball hit the tape and fell in the same spot, proving it wasn’t a lucky shot. She’d clearly practiced utilizing the net, and now it had cost them back-to-back aces.

24 - 21.

Remy gave a small scream of frustration as she went down hard for a second time, brushing sand out of her hair and off her face as she glared at a preening Aelin. She readjusted closer to the net lest Aelin try the tricks third time, her body poised to spring. Except Aelin didn’t try it a third time. She aimed for the back corner instead, tattooing the ball into the space Remy had just abandoned.

“Goddamnit!” Remy snarled, storming towards Rowan. “Switch me.”

24 - 22.

Repositioning again, Rowan was blessedly able to receive her fourth serve, Remy’s set putting him tight on the net. He’d expected Aedion to cover him but in a flash Aelin was there instead, exploding upwards just as he made contact.He heard the snap of the ball against skin, and only had time to cast a hand out blindly as the ball came back onto his side. Unfortunately, it wasn’t high enough for Remy to get to.

Aelin beamed as Rowan turned to gawk at her. It was rare at his height and speed that he got stuffed on the block. Even Aedion, who was close to his height, hadn’t managed it.

24 - 23.

“I told you it was going to get ugly,” Aelin purred. “I don’t make idle promises.”

“You’re still behind,” Rowan said, but Aelin only smiled.

“But we have the momentum,” she said. “And chiquita looks like she’s running scared.”

A glance at Remy told Rowan Aelin was right; she looked flustered, and when she caught Rowan looking at her she scowled.

“Let’s just finish this,” she said. “Sideout. No quarter.”

If they scored now, they’d win the match. But if Aelin and Aedion got more up on them, it would force at least two more points as they had to win by two.

Aelin only chuckled at this, heading back to the serving line for a fifth time. She served a floater this time, the lack of spin on the ball sending it sailing over the net at an unpredictable angle. Remy received, and after Rowan put her slightly too close to the net, Aedion stuffed the ball back in her face.

24 - 24.

The next point Aelin won on a deep roll shot to the right corner, and suddenly it was match point in the opposite direction.

24 - 25, match point to the Ashryvvers.

 Thankfully this time, Rowan and Remy were ready. Rowan went head to head with Aedion on the block and won, earning only his third kill of the entire match.

25 - 25.

The next point was a service error from Remy after she attempted to tickle the tape the same way Aelin had, resulting in another scream of frustration.

25 - 26, match point for the Ashryvvers again.

Rowan gave Remy a set off the net and she managed to catch Aelin off-balance for a rare shank from the blonde.

 26 - 26.

Aedion shot Aelin a quick set to the middle and she had the ball in the sand before Rowan could even react.

26 - 27, match point for the Ashryvvers.Service error from Aedion after a bad toss for his jump serve.

27- 27.

Rowan wiped sweat from his eyes as he tried not to dwell on the score. With a cap at 30, there were only a possibility of four more points either way. He let out a steadying breath as he stepped up to serve. Aiming deep, he caught Aedion in an awkward position that resulted in an unredeemable pass.

28 - 27, match point for Rowan and Remy.

One more, Ro told himself. One more just like that and they would have won.He aimed for the same spot only to realize that Aedion and Aelin had switched positions, and where Aedion was powerful but cumbersome in the sand, Aelin was lightning fast. She managed the receive Aedion couldn’t, and when Aedion set her tight, she crushed the ball cross-court, right into the corner.

Remy threw up her hands, beaming.

“Out!” she said. “It’s out. That’s the match! Ro, we won!”

However, Rowan could tell in her bearing something was off, and he let his eyes flit to the line judge to investigate. The man came over just as Remy made a move to casually swipe at the sand with her toe, and he gestured to the imprint of a ball still visible in the sand.

“In,” he said, giving Remy a warning look as the Ashryvvers murmured to one another. “Point to the Ashryvvers.”

28 - 28.

Rowan tried not to tense at the realization Remy had been willing to cheat. It set his teeth on edge, and served as a reminder why he normally kept his distance from her. It was a rule he’d have to remember after today.

Aelin stepped up to serve with an unkind smile twisting at her full mouth, and tattooed the same deep corner she’d just hit. The line judge--not waiting for Remy’s assessment this time, ruled it in.

28 - 29, match point to the Ashryvvers.

Unfortunately, Aelin miscalculated as she attempted to hit the same spot with her next serve, and this time it was ruled out.

 29 - 29, the final match point.

Whoever won the next point would win the set and the match. One point to decide who would be the tournaments champs and who would be the losers.

Rowan’s could see the same thought in Aelin’s eyes as the both approached the net, Rowan’s hand stretched behind his back to signal his block to Remy. 

“So,” Aelin said as Remy went through her pre-serve ritual. “Where are you taking me to celebrate after?”

Rowan flashed her a feral grin.

“Didn’t take you for a girl who celebrates her losses.”

“I’m not,” she said. “But buy me a few congratulatory drinks when I win and maybe I’ll show you what type of girl I really am.

”Rowan heard the short whistle to signal Remy was asking for a re-toss on her serve, and he focused his attention back on Aelin momentarily.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he challenged.

She bit her lip, eyes falling unmistakably to his cock. Her gaze was like a fist around his dick, and he had to fight back a groan.

“You know exactly what it means,” she said.

At that moment Remy served the ball, saving Rowan from his pitiful lack of retort. He forced himself to refocus as Aedion received, trying to forget the offer of casual sex Aelin had just thrown onto the table. Or perhaps she was just teasing him, trying to get under his skin so he’d forget what he was doing.Unfortunately for her, he wasn’t so easily rattled. Tracking Aedion as he received the ball and swung, Rowan forced him cross on the block. Remy returned with no issue, and Rowan’s muscles coiled in anticipation as Aelin dug the ball. Aedion set was right where Rowan now knew Aelin preferred it.

She swung hard but met his block, and just when Rowan started to think he’d won the point, she threw out a hand on blind instinct, sending the ball back up into the air on her side of the court. Instantly Aedion was there to feed her a quick set, and Aelin swung again just as hard.

Again Rowan jumped and managed to block her, and again she recovered.

Breathing hard, she approached a third time, exploding upwards at the same time Rowan did. This time, however, she pivoted mid-air, managing to avoid his outstretched hands and send the ball careening down.

Everything seemed to slow as Rowan turned to watch Remy dive for the ball, but it was too late; it had already hit the sand.

That was it; game, set, match.

The crowd erupted in cheers as the line judge made the official designation, and Aelin beamed.

“Nice game,” Rowan told her, stretching his hand out to her. “I thought I had you.”

Her smile only widened, eyes glittering as she tugged off her glasses and slid her palm into his to shake.

“Play your cards right and you still might.”

Rowan opened his mouth--though to say what, he wasn’t sure. Before he could formulate a response, he felt the brush of a hand down his back as Remy appeared at his side.

“Congratulations,” she said coolly, her arm slithering around Rowan’s waist now even as he subtly tried to peel her off. Undeterred, Remy tightened her grip as her eyes flitted to Aelin’s tattoo.

 “Not bad for a pair of--”

“I would think very carefully before you finish that sentence,” Aelin warned in a soft, dangerous tone. “And take your hands off him; he’s clearly not interested.”

Remy scowled.

“That is none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you started manhandling him in front of me. He’s too polite to embarrass you, but I’m not. Keep your hands to yourself.”

At this Remy loosened her grip a bit, even as she turned to glare up at Rowan.

“Are you serious going to let her speak to me like that?” she demanded.

“She’s not wrong,” Rowan said, wishing they could do this without an audience. “We’ve talked about this before.”

Remy only gave a cold laugh.

“Oh I see. Some slut offers to suck your dick and suddenly you have no loyalty. You’re a pig, Rowan.”

“Don’t call her a slut,” Rowan said, losing patience. “And stop acting like this is anything new between us.”

At this Aelin huffed a laugh, and Remy snarled.

“You are a miserable bitch, and you fucking deserve each other.”

At this she stormed off, and Aelin turned her bronzed grin on Rowan.

“She’s lovely,” she said. “You make a charming couple.”

“We’re not together,” he said uselessly.Their exchange just now had already made that clear.

“I know,” Aelin said, waggling her eyebrows as she gave him another suggestive up-down. “Lucky me.”

Rowan debated for half a second if he actually wanted to take this girl up on her tantalizing offer, even knowing it could never be anything more. After this weekend he would go back to Los Angeles to continue studying for the detective’s exam and she, presumably, would return to school in Texas. It wasn’t just the distance, either. Something about the idea of a one-night stand with her left him feeling a bit hollow. He’d gone through a ‘casual sex’ phase in the dreary months and years after losing Lyria, and now mindless hook-ups--even with a girl as hot as Aelin--had lost their luster. Besides, Aelin seemed like a girl who deserved better.

On the other hand, Rowan was only human, and goddamn him, there was a part of him which very much wanted to accept. Before he could stop himself, Rowan  imagined stripping off Aelin’s bikini and teasing her until she begged for his cock. As dominant as she was on the court, something wicked told him she would be submissive in bed.

However, before he could make a decision either way Aedion appeared, flashing Rowan a cocky grin as they shook hands before throwing Aelin over his shoulder and jogging towards a throng which had gathered at the center of the court. They were young--mostly likely still college students like Aelin--all of them dressed in various articles of burnt orange clothing, chanting “Ashryvver” at the top of their lungs.

Rowan could help himself as he tracked Aelin through the adoring crowd, beaming as the tournament administrator fought his way through the mass to place a beautiful fresh lei of white orchids around her neck. As when the man handed both Aelin and Aedion a crystal vase—serving in the place of a trophy, their throng of admirers burst into even louder cheers as the opening bars of All I Do is Win by DJ Khaled blared over the speakers. Rowan fended off a sensation dangerously similar to disappointment as Aelin scrambled up to sit on the shoulders of a sickeningly-handsome man with dark hair and striking blue eyes. Rowan watched as she strung a hand under the stranger’s chin to grin down at him, his smile similarly enraptured as they traded a laughed. 

Rowan forced his shoulders to drop from their rigid position. Perhaps she had just been teasing all that time. After all, she didn’t seem to remember Rowan even existed as she swayed to the music, fingers casually strung through the strangers hair to keep herself steady.

Forcing himself to look away, Rowan retreated back to where his friends waited. It was fine, he told himself. He came here to play, not get his dick wet, and he’d done that, and done it well. Now was the time for celebrating being back with his favorite people, not sulking over some girl he barely knew.

“Great game, man,” Fen said as Ro approached,accepting the Gatorade in his friend’s outstretched hand. “That was a tough break at the end.”

“No shame in that match, Ro. That girl is just unstoppable,” Cash added.

“And one good thing about you losing: I think you shook Remy for good,” Lor said. “She stormed over her to spew a bunch of bullshit about how much she hated all of us before she stormed off. Don’t think we will be seeing her again any time soon.”

“Oh amen to that, brother,” Fen said. “That’s worth losing a match any day.”

“I can’t say I was sorry to see her go,” Rowan admitted. “You were right; she had ulterior motives.”

Lorcan pretended to examine his nails in feigned indifference.

“I, for one, am shocked.”

“Speaking of ulterior motives...” Cash said, eyes trailing to where the Ashryvvers were still celebrating, Aelin perched on the mystery man’s shoulders. “Talk to me about Galathynius.”

Rowan clenched his jaw, debating the merits of making up a lie before relenting and saying simply, “she’s Cuban.”

“Oh fuck,” Fen said. “You’re in trouble now, Kahukore.”

“I knew it,” Cash said, grin wolfish. “She’s perfect.”

“Cousin’s pretty hot, too,” Fen observed, eyes tracking Aedion as he posed for photos for the tournament website. “What have you got on him?”

“He’s a douchebag,” Rowan said. “The first thing out of his mouth before the match started was a joke about getting lei-ed.”

Fen only laughed, teeth bright against his brown skin.

“Lighten up, man. If I dismiss every haole guy who makes that joke, there won’t be any dick left!”

“There’s an obvious solution here,” Lor said, cuffing Fenrys affectionately by the back of his neck. “Stop chasing after white boys.”

“No promises,” Fen said, grinning. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“Can I shower first?” Ro asked, pushing his silver hair out of his eyes. “I feel like a vagrant.”

“And you smell like one, too,” Cash said. “You’re a jackass,” Rowan said, though he couldn’t help laughing as he strung an arm over his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“You owe me fifty bucks, by the way,” Cash called to Lor. 

Lorcan rolled his eyes. 

“You said she was Puerto Rican,” Lor said. “She’s Cuban, so I don’t owe you shit.”

“At least a drink, then. Fen thought she was Swedish!

“We don’t know!” Fen said, laughing. “One of her parents could still be Swedish. We’ll have Ro ask her later. Double or nothing, Kahukore?”

Rowan’s jaw clenched, and he fought not to scowl outright. A quick glance back at the court told him that though Aelin had finally alighted from the brunette’s shoulders, they were now kicking sand at each other like children. He wondered how long it would take him to get her bright, infectious laughter out of his head.

“If you want to know, you better ask her now.”

“Wait, seriously?” Cash said. “You didn’t get her number? What is wrong with you?”

“She’s not my type.”

“What does that even mean, ‘type’?” Fen said. “I don’t like even women and she’s still my type. Don’t turn into Lor unless you’re cool with dying alone.”

Having no reasonable response to this, Rowan  just rolled his eyes.

“Rude,” Lor said, not actually sounding bothered by the comment.

“Let’s just go already,” Rowan said.The sooner he got drunk, the sooner he could forget about Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius and all the promises he’d seen in her dazzling eyes.

“Last chance,” Cash warned. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask for her number? If nothing else, she looks like she’d be willing to give you the ride of your life.”

Rowan had to admit he was tempted, especially as he remembered Aelin promising him the same thing. Still, when he watch the same dark-haired guy string an arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple, his mind was made up.

Jerking his head towards the parking lot, he permitted himself one final glance in Aelin’s direction before he turning his back to her for good.

X

Several hours hours later, Rowan found himself sitting on the beach with a beer in hand, watching the sun set over the glittering azure water. Oahu wasn’t quite home— not in the same way that Maui was—but Rowan hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the islands until that moment. It was the familiar sound of the surf and the balmy air, much cleaner here than in LA. 

More than that, though, it was being here with his friends. He couldn’t remember the last time all four of them had been together, and he didn’t want to think about how long it might be before it happened again. He just wanted to enjoy the evening and...forget for a while

.“What are you thinking about?” Cash asked from beside him. “You look a million miles away.”

Not wanting the dampen the evening’s light mood, Rowan took a swig of beer and said, “

Just wondering if I should take out a bigger insurance policy on my motorcycle. Remy knows where I live, and part of me is afraid she’s already en-route to the mainland to destroy all my shit.”

At this, Lor laughed.

“Listen, you’re not wrong.”

“Just please tell me we are done with her,” Cash said. “I don’t think I have any more fake nice left in me after this weekend.”

“We’re done with her,” Rowan confirmed. “Also, she is never going to make the tour.”

“I don’t think AVP was very even on the table,” Fen said. “She just made that shit up to get your attention.”

“It might have worked, too, if Galathynius hadn’t stepped in,” Cash said, holding up his beer.

“At the very least, we’d be stuck entertaining her all weekend while she tried to slither in your pants,” Lor told Rowan. “For that, at least, I’m grateful to Galaythius.”

“Now, she will make the tour,” Cash said.

“Future Olympian, no doubt,” Fen agreed. “And Ro missed his chance to be right there with her. Instead he’ll be watching her win gold on tv and jacking off into a pool of his tears.”

“Are you done?” Rowan said, lobbing his empty can at Fen.

 “No,” Fen said. “I have enough material to last us the night, at least.”

Rowan rolled his eyes as they all labored to their feet and headed towards a rowdy pub farther down the beach. No one had to ask where they were headed; drinks at the Hideaway had always been their tradition when they came to Waikiki.

Despite the early hour, the bar was already bumping by the time they arrived, and as soon as they walked in and surveyed the scene, Cash burst out laughing. Lor, who’d followed his friend’s gaze, gave a good-natured groan.

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.”

There, sitting on top the bar, was Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius, her usual coterie fawning around her as she tipped her head back to drain a shot of tequila. She’d traded her bikini for a pair of cut-off over-alls worn over a distractingly lacy bralette, her long blonde hair falling to her waist in two French braids.  

She still wore her lei from earlier, the white standing out brilliantly against her burnished skin.

Everyone she was with cheered as she held the glass aloft, and before Ro could think to make a quick exit and save himself the awkwardness of having to face her. Aelin’s mouth stretched into a sensuous grin as she surveyed his blue button-down and slim-fitting chinos.

“So we all agree now, right?” Cash said, giving Rowan a gentle shove. “Ro has to go over there and talk to her.”

Rowan’s stomach twisted unpleasantly as he watched Aelin lean over to whisper to the same dark-haired guy she’d been with earlier.

“Definitely,” Fen said. “It’s fate.”

“No,” Rowan said, turning towards the bar in an attempt to block Aelin out. “And I think she has a boyfriend, anyway.”

“Only one way to find out,” Cash said, grinning as he slid past Rowan. “Wish me luck, boys.”

Rowan had to actively fight a scowl.

“You’re seriously going over there?”

“Listen, brother: if you’re really not going to take your shot, then I am.”

He gave Rowan a challenging look as if daring him to call his bluff, but Rowan only shrugged.

“Go for it, man.”

Rowan told himself not to look, but curiosity got the best of him as Cash approached. Aelin watched him do so with keen interest, eyes glittering as she slid from the bar to her feet. Rowan was too far away to hear Cash’s opening line, but whatever it was, Aelin tipped her head back and laughed, her hand inadvertently falling to his arm as she did so.

“I need a fucking drink,” Rowan muttered, flagging to the bartender and gesturing for three shots of whiskey. 

Draining his, he glanced over again. Cash’s head was bent slightly as he spoke in Aelin’s ear, her smile dazzling as she listened.

Lorcan reached for his own shot, but Ro grabbed it before he could, throwing in back in a single movement before taking Fen’s as well.

“Damn boy, you’ve got it bad,” Fen observed.

“Cash better take her somewhere else to fuck,” Lor added, frowning. “She strikes me as a screamer, and I forgot my earplugs.”

“You both suck,” Rowan said, resisting the urge to look at Cash and Aelin for a third time. He already felt pathetic; he didn’t need to look it, too.

However, after a beat he couldn’t help himself, and he glanced up just in time to see Cash brush a kiss on Aelin’s cheek before retreating back towards them. 

When Aelin caught Rowan looking she crooked a finger towards him in an obvious “come hither” gesture, and Rowan felt his stomach flop pleasantly. Cash grinned as he reached their group again, jerking his head in Aelin’s direction as she crossed her legs in an expectant gesture.

“What did you do?” Rowan demanded.

“Greased the wheels for you,” Cash said, smiling. “Go get her, champ.”

At this he turned to Fen, smile widening.“And the cousin’s bi, by the way. You’re welcome.”

“Good work,” Fen said, clapping Cash on the back before turning to frown at Rowan. “What are you even still doing here? Go already, before she comes to her senses and chooses someone else!”

Flipping him a casual middle finger, Rowan smoothed back his silver hair and headed towards her, trying to seem more suave than he honestly felt. Jesus, he hadn’t been this tied in knots by a girl since he’d met Lyria as a first-year cadet. Normally the idea would pain him, but in that moment he had the oddest sensation of her standing beside him, smiling as if to say, “make me proud.”

Aelin smirked and uncoiled to her feet as he approached, grin widening as he said, “You stalking me?”

She gave a lover’s laugh, low and sensuous.

“Oh, you know how the songs goes: The Eyes of Texas are upon you, do not think you can escape them.”

He couldn’t fight his smile at this.

“I should have known,” he said.

“I’ll forgive you this once,” she said. “But you owe me. Why don’t we start with...your name? I’m Aelin, as I’m sure you already know.”

Not wanting to give her the pleasure of agreeing, he simply said, 

“Rowan.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” she said. “Took you long enough. I thought I was going to have to kiss your friend just to get your attention.”

“He would have loved that.”

Aelin laughed.

“He’s charming, but too pretty for me; I have a rule of not dating guys who have better hair than I do.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Rowan said. “It will go to his head.”

“Quite literally,” she said. “Let me introduce you around,” she said as Aedion approached.“My cousin, I think you know.”

Aedion only grinned, holding up the lei of purple orchids around his neck. “Told you I would.”

Aelin rolled her eyes as she ran a hand down the back of the dark-haired man she’s been with earlier, seeking his attention. When he turned, she gestured to Rowan.

“Galen, this is Rowan. Rowan, this is my other cousin, Galen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Galen said, his accent thicker than either Aelin or Aedion’s. 

Her cousin.

It seemed so obvious now. Though his hair and skin were darker than hers, he had her same brilliant eyes, as did Aedion. Rowan was never going to hear the end of it from his friends.

Galen gave Rowan a quick up-down before firing off in rapid, staccato Spanish, the words so fast Rowan couldn’t even pick out a single one.

Aelin only gave her cousin a good-natured eyeroll before pushing on his chest.

“Vete,” she said. “no me molestes.”

“Let me guess,” Rowan said. “He threatened to string me up if I even so much as blink wrong?

”Aelin gave a look of theatrical mock surprise.

“No way, you speak Spanish?”

“Tell him I come in peace,” Rowan said.

“He knows I can fight my own battles,” Aelin replied with a strug. “He and Aedion just like to prove their usefulness. Where were we?”

“I think you were introducing me to your court,” Rowan said, gesturing as the legion of people surrounding Aelin.

“Everyone else can wait,” Aelin said, gesturing to the bartender for drinks. “I don’t feel like sharing you quite yet.”

When two tequila shots and two beers appeared on the bar, Rowan threw down a fifty before Aelin could put it on her tab.

“Trying to butter me up?” She asked, batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

“Do I need to?” He replied, accepting the shot from her.

She only smirked, grabbing his fist and running her tongue down the back of his hand before covering it with salt. He had to fend off a pleasant shudder. The gesture had shot straight to his cock.

“We’ll see,” she said, offering him a lime now, too. “Ready?”

He lifted his glass to her, but before he could lick the salt, she grabbed his wrist.

“You can’t drink without a toast, are you insane?”

“I don’t have one.”

She rolled her eyes before coaching his arm up above his head.

“Arriba,” she said before gently guiding his hand down. “Abajo. Al centro,” she prompted him to clink his glass to hers in the center. “Por dentro.”

With that she licked the salt off her hand before throwing the shot back easily and sucking on the lime. Rowan decided not to read into the suggestive look she gave him as she did so.

When they’d finished, Aelin grabbed his hand, gesturing for him to pick up his beer before she pulled him away from the bar.

“Where are we going?” He asked, hazarding a glance back at his friends to see them all watching him with knowing smirks.

“Somewhere quieter,” Aelin said, leading him up a set of rickety stairs that lead to an upper lounge.

The low couches were open to the air and overlooked the beach, and considering how things with Aelin had begun this afternoon, it felt…dangerously romantic.

You can’t fall for this girl, he reminded himself.

She didn’t live here, and neither did he. He was busy studying for the detective exam, and she was still in college, for Christ’s sake. Whatever he did, he couldn’t catch feelings for her.

However, it was an idea that felt easier said than done as Aelin yanked him down beside her on a couch, her head propped on a fist as she studied him with those mesmerizing blue eyes. She was so beautiful it was almost hard to breathe.

“So,” she said. “Start at the beginning.”

He laughed.

“The beginning of what?”

She grinned, her lips the most kissable shade of pink.

“Everything. I want to know it all.”

IF YOU LIKED THIS AND WANT MORE, CHECK OUT PART TWO, OUT NOW! 🏐 🍺 ♥️ 

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[shyanshippingsociety]

Shyan Shipping Society Fic Promo - May 14 to May 21 2021

Last Week

Hello, everybody! Mod Pop here with this weeks gathering of joozy fic created by the talented hands of our members. It’s a fantastic mix of AU’s and canon this time around, all of them an amazing read. So lets buckle up and get into it!

May 14

Trippingly On The Tongue by scallywap | E, 5k, Complete.

Brian Cramblish is an unknown actor hoping for his big break. When he auditions for the part of 'Ryan Bergara' in the new web series 'Unsolved', he meets former sitcom star Brad Pistachio, whose sole purpose in life is to annoy him. Despite this, Brian finds himself unwittingly attracted to the man who has his future in the palm of his hands.

-

"Brian, are you touching yourself right now?"

"...No."

"My dear, you're a better actor than that."

May 15

Disturbia by insufferableideefixe | E, 3k, Complete.

"I always knew being afraid excited you, but I had no idea that excitement would be so... physical."

My Little King by dippingmytoesindreams | E, 5k, Complete.

Something lives in the Old Forest 

May 16

Crackling Embers by dippingmytoesindreams | G, 1.4k, Complete.

Ryan yawns. “She liked the berries.”

“She did like the berries.” Shane agrees. “But we like you more.”

May 17

A Horror of Constraint by RedLlamas | E, 1.5k, Incomplete

Ryan thinks, "oh I'll jack off during class, it'll be a fun challenge, what could possibly go wrong?"

Well, Mr. Madej has eyes, that's what could possibly go wrong.

4.26.86 by szandor | M, 16k, Incomplete

A crossover between a classic Enemies to Friends to Lovers trope, and the HBO TV Series Chernobyl.

It's April of 1986 in the USSR. Bureaucrat Shane Madej and Professor Ryan Bergara have a chance meeting at a table to discuss the 'Chernobyl Incident.' Ryan Bergara believes there was more to said incident than a simple water tank explosion. Shane disagrees. The two are sent against their own will to the Chernobyl site just outside of Pripyat where they discover a much more dire situation than anticipated.

If You Like Pina Coladas and Getting Caught by insufferableideefixe | E, 1.9k, Complete

The boys are on a relaxing vacation in Hawaii and had a blast trying surfing for the first time. Ryan has an idea for yet another fun first they could try. 

Tracing His Way Through The Constellations by popkin16 | T, 2.8k, Complete

“You’re staring,” Shane pointed out, humor lightening the words. “I know this mug of mine is funny, but you’ve been looking at it for years, now. It can’t be that much of a surprise.”

“You have freckles,” Ryan said idly.

“Have for years, thanks,” Shane replied dryly.

May 18

Get Some Grip by zhalia | E, 3k, Incomplete

don't you just hate it when you get stuck in a meeting and your needy-rival-with-benefits starts sexting you?

like, there's so many people around you, seeing you blush and squirm in your seat, watching how your fingers type at lightspeed to keep up with your thoughts. then there's people around, asking you questions you have to answer, or comments you have to remember.

but all you can think of is how badly you wanna go to his home and fuck the words from his throat...

or, Shane is stuck in debrief after losing the Catalunya grand prix due to bad strategy choices. Ryan needs attention.

New Beginning by waywardmillenial | G, 904 words, Complete

Based on the tumblr prompt: “hey thanks for literally saving my life by pushing me out of the way of that car, but now you’re yelling at me bc i was reading and walking and you said i’m too cute to die” au.

A meet-cute scenario for the boys.

May 21

I See A Lighthouse In The Distance, Calling My Name by zhalia | E, 5k, Complete

They’re in the attic of the lighthouse, investigating in the dark. They’re about to walk over to the cold balcony so Ryan can talk about the woman that fell/got pushed/jumped from the railing when the door to back down to the stairs and inside the lighthouse falls shut, and they're locked up.

Ryan's an investigator for Ghost Adventures, and their new season takes them to a haunted lighthouse. Shane, owner of the lighthouse, guides them through, enjoying himself whenever Ryan shrieks.

it's all fun and games, until they're locked in.

What an incredible list of fics! Something there for everyone, I’d think. We love to see it. If you’d like to see what else the Shyan Shipping Society has to offer, check out our ao3 collection!

As always, if you have any questions, please feel free to check our faqs or send us a question.

[disneydude94]

Okay, here a some reasons why add some Disney Characters and locations in Amphibia: Calamity War…..

• Mickey Mouse

The reason I add Mickey and his friends is because not only that he lives Toontown that’s close to Hollywood, but it was all started with a mouse when I made a prologue where Anne, Sasha, and Marcy as younger kids when through the looking glass at the art museum where they ended up in the Sorcerer’s Workshop and I’m planning to adding the part where Mickey and Friends dressed up in sorcerer outfit for promotional of D23 Expo in 2011.

That’s how Mickey discovered the girls and escort them back to the museum and promised them to keep a secret. Eight years later when Mickey made an announcement for search party when they heard the rumors, but then there’s a flash and they witnessed that Anne and the Plantars lying unconscious until they woke up and see where they at now and that’s why both Anne and Mickey know each other.

• Stitch

Here’s another reason why I add Stitch to be part of my fan story is because it involves frog. When Stitch crash landed in Hawaii during the rain, he encountered with a frog and pointing out his laser guns at it which he didn’t understand until he got ran over by some trucks.

During the flight chase when Stitch fell out from Gantu’s ship and land fainted right next to frog that he encountered. The frog jumped on Stitch and looked up in the curiously while Stitch woke up. He grab the frog and jumped out of the way before being blasted by Gantu. He set the frog down and prepare to grab the truck while the frog hops away.

That’s when I’ll add the part of the chapter where Stitch first encountered with Anne and Sprig since he familiar with frogs and started to grown fond of Sprig thus making Anne laugh at him in a cute way.

• Phineas and Ferb

Another reason is why do you ask? For example, if Phineas and Ferb The Movie came out in 2020 on Disney Plus, why not I add the cast of Tri-State Area at “Walt Disney Studios” as they retelling their story where Candace and Vanessa was abducted by aliens meaning Phineas, Ferb, Isabella, Baljeet, Buford, and Doofenshmirtz have to go into space and rescue the girls from the aliens clutches.

I can also add the part of the chapter where Anne and Sprig have met the kids at the studio while went looking for Polly.

• Gravity Falls

For those who are big fan of Gravity Falls already knows that Bill Cipher made cameo appearances at beginning of “True Colors” where Marcy is reading the book of “Dr. P’s”.

If my theory is correct either Stanford Pines or the Plantars ancestors. Also I’m going to add the part where Dipper and Mabel meet Anne at her house to talk about the history of the multiverse like Amphibia for example.

• Timon and Pumbaa

There’s one thing that you should be aware of. One, Timon and Pumbaa are my favorite characters from The Lion King and two, the reason that I will add them in my fan story was because not just for bugs that they like to eat, but they are the best of friends who will do anything for any characters.

This part of the chapter where Timon and Pumbaa met Anne and Sprig in the park when she’s feeling down about her past. They taught her to put her past behind her and sings Hakuna Matata to her. And also for bugs, Sprig told them that there are plenty of bugs from Amphibia and they were amazed for all the buffet they can eat, except some giant bugs that are pets or dangerous beasts.

• Princess and the Frog

Now that you’re aware when both Tiana and Naveen have been turned into frogs thanks to Dr. Facilier’s spell and they have to learn to work together and soon they fall in love once they kissed, the spell is broken.

For future chapter when Tiana had met Anne and the Plantars when they are at the park and sings “Dig A Little Deeper” to Anne about her memories from the past. Speaking of the shadow man, he was voice played by Keith David who voiced many characters including King Andrias.

• Disney Villains

The reason why I add most villains is because not just that is like from “Kingdom Hearts” or “Kingdom Keepers”, but is kinda like from a night show called “Villains Unite the Night” at the Magic Kingdom during Disney Villains After Hours. The villains I will add as main antagonists are Maleficent, The Queen, Ursula, Dr. Facilier, Jafar, Hades, and Chernabog.

Also the reasons why I add Maleficent as the main antagonist in my fan story since she was voiced by Susanne Blakesee who voiced many characters including Valeriana from Amphibia and also that part how Maleficent became obsessed with the Calamity Box that can travel to another world or another.

• Disneyland

And now that you already know when the original Disneyland was first opened in California. That gives me an idea when Anne and her parents took the Plantars with to visit Disneyland not just for fun, but keeping her happy from being sad since she recalls what happened back in Amphibia. If only I wish it was real for the future episodes for next year.

Now that’s why I became obsessed with crossover back when I was a kid and I hope you understand what I am saying. Please let me know if you ask me questions and there will be NO hate comments or offensive image. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to published my fan story at FanFiction website. See yah soon.