#is this set to a song from the musical sweet charity? also yes

[island-in-the-shadows]

Did I need to write Armand bending Daniel over the railing of their opera box at the Met opera and railing him while making the mortals ignore them during the intermission of La Boheme in the fall of 1977? No.

But it's where the story wanted to go, babes.

[lanadelrafe]

𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨’𝑺 𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

— pairing: president’s daughter!reader x bodyguard!rafe

— cw: age gap (reader is in her twenties while rafe is in his thirties). mentions of consuming alcohol.

— summary: your father is serving as the current president of the united states. special agent rafe cameron is assigned as your private detail.

— author’s note: it’s finally here!!! if anyone remembers, i said i was going to post this a loooooong time ago but never finished it until now. also fuck trump! lanadelrafe for president 2028!!!

rafe had a headache. the sound of remixed music deafened the room. the smell of cheap beer and sweat filled his nose. the lights were as dark as a hollister fitting room. he should be spending his saturday night, lounging on his couch and drinking a beer. instead, here he was at some dingy college bar. and it felt like every student on campus was in this bar.

luckily, rafe is tall. he towered over 90% of the people he came into contact with. he had no problem spotting you in the crowd. he was across the room from you, leaning against a wooden pillar. his eyes surveyed the room for anything suspicious. when he felt it was safe, he brought his attention back to you. most people found it weird how he just stood there, not talking to anyone. but, that was his job—to stay out of the spotlight and to protect you.

at first, he wasn’t so fond of looking after some twenty something year old. he didn’t like the fact that he was basically on babysitting duty. rafe wanted to be in the action. he wanted to be out on the field, protecting his boss instead.

after a while, he realized you weren’t so bad after all. you were quiet and reserved, barely even spoke to rafe. you rarely went out because your father didn’t like it to begin with. and even when you did go out, you kept yourself out of trouble. sure, it gets boring after a while just standing outside your room, being there for hours, but it saved rafe the stress.

tonight was different. you were letting loose after a busy week. because of your father’s “clean cut american” image, it was imperative that you’d be at every public gathering. your mother thought it added character and class for your family to be by his side. charity events and press appearances were becoming apart of your normal routine. on top of all of that, you were working hard to maintain a 4.0 gpa at a prestigious university.

and now, here you were—dancing to a country song while wearing an outfit he’d never seen you in. rafe was used to seeing you in sets of long skirts with matching blazers. what you were wearing wasn’t that bad, but it didn’t comply with the conservative look you were forced to present.

normally, you walked with grace and your head held up strong. tonight, you were dancing recklessly and stumbling about. your hair tie had fallen off an hour ago and your purse and phone were gathered up in rafe’s hand.

your best and closest friend, mia, was grabbing drinks for you and your friends.

“yo! lady liberty!” she called out to you.

you turned around quickly, nearly falling over your own feet but you still managed to keep yourself upright. “yes?”

“do you want a single or a double?” she asked.

you smiled, showing your teeth. “double!”

the moment rafe decided to take his eyes off of you was when a tall, blond man came towards you. you two were chatting when rafe looked back. he raised an eyebrow, pushing himself off of the pillar and walking over.

“you’re so much more prettier in person,” the unnamed man told you.

your cheeks warmed and you shyly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “thank you,” your voice was tooth rotting sweet.

rafe pushed through the crowd to get to your side. he barged his way in between you both, placing his free hand on the stranger’s shoulder.

“she’s not interested,” he told him.

the blond held his hands up before walking away.

“you didn’t have to do that.” you said once rafe turned around to face you.

he smirked, enjoying how bold you suddenly were. “i know, but it’s a lot more easier when you let me do my job.” he handed you your purse and phone. “plus your father would kill me if he found out you were making out with randoms in a bar you’re not supposed to be in.”

you didn’t say anything because he was completely right, so you simply turned around, marching over to mia. she was smiling, watching you two like a hawk. “he’s so hot,” she said when you reached her.

“who? agent cameron?” you take a look over your shoulder to see rafe walking closer to you. “he’s okay, I guess.”

he was more than okay and the more you drank, the more you started to realize that. rafe had stayed by your side the rest of the night, leaning his well sculpted body against the counter. you and your friends began taking shots, abrupting into cheers after each one. after each shot, you would glance over at rafe and see that he was already staring at you. it made you nervous—the good kind of nervous.

about twenty minutes later, you were completely hammered. your makeup had begun to get dewy from the sudden rise of temperature in your body. your feet hurt from your platform shoes and your hair was a tangled mess. it was clearly time to go.

wrangling five girls into their ubers was a challenge, but rafe made sure that they all got home safely. you two were by the entrance of the bar, rafe ordering you stay hidden until each of your friends were gone. outside, there was a swarm of cameramen, hoping to get an embarrassing photo of you in your drunken state.

rafe was mumbling curse words under his breath when he approached you. he hated the people who followed you around and treated you like some zoo animal. he’d be damned if he let his career go down the drain all because someone got a photo of you looking completely out of it.

“act normal,” he said sternly.

you straighten your back and fix your hair quickly. pretending to be sober for five minutes shouldn’t be so hard. rafe draped his jacket over your shoulders. he held his arm out for you to grab onto. you hugged his thick, toned arm to your chest.

“let’s get you home, kid.”

the two of you stepped outside, immediately attacked with flashes of bright lights. it was hard to maneuver through the crowd, but with rafe by your side, you felt safe. you waved shyly, smiling politely as you passed by the men whose career was to follow your father’s every move. rafe led you down the path to the car, careful to not walk too fast otherwise you’d stumble over your own feet.

“you okay?” he asked once you two made it into the car. he was staring at you through the rearview mirror.

you nodded. “yeah, i’m okay,” your voice was so soft. you reached for a water bottle that was in the cooler in the backseat. chugging it, you realized rafe still hadn’t moved the car. “what’s wrong?” you ask.

“they’re blocking the street,” he responded in a frustrated tone. “fuckin’ losers,” he whispered.

you get closer to him, peaking your head around from his seat. “c’mon, they’re just doing their jobs.” it was painfully cute how kind you were. “maybe try-”

“they’re not going to move.”

you sighed, unbuckling your seatbelt and rolling your window down. rafe turned around quickly, looking at you with a glare. “what are you doing?” he asked angrily.

you ignored him and stuck your head out the window. despite the literal roadblock, you still managed to keep your smile on your face. “excuse me!” you called out. “could you guys move please?”

the cameramen were charmed by you. a couple of them laughed but nonetheless, everyone moved out of the way. you smile one last time, waving goodbye, “thank you!”

once you were settled, rafe took off. he didn’t say anything about what you did. you could tell he was beyond annoyed. especially now since you solved a problem that he couldn’t.

you don’t remember when you fell asleep. you only noticed when you felt someone shaking your thigh.

“go away!” you grumbled, swatting at their hands.

“c’mon! we’re home.” it was rafe.

when you didn’t respond, he let out a deep sigh. he reached inside the car to grab you, picking you up in his arms. your head leaned against his chest, grasping at the fabric of his button down.

“woah! too fast,” you mumbled. “slow down.”

“that’s what i kept telling you before each shot.”

“be quiet, fun sucker.”

he scoffed. “really? fun sucker?” he shut the door with his foot, heading up the steps of the beautiful building you called home.

“it was the first thing that came to mind, ok?” you hiccup, reaching up to rub your eyes gently. “and would you stop talking so much? my head is spinning.”

he was going to make a smart comment but decided to keep his mouth shut instead. when he made it inside, he was greeted with a grinning barry, a nuisance to the force but rafe’s only friend. “get a lil wild, huh, princess?” he asked.

you groaned, opening your eyes and glaring at the agent in front of you. he was your least favorite and the only one you were ever short with. your polite and composed personality was completely torn down whenever barry spoke to you. you two never got along. something about him seemed off to you.

“please stop talking.”

like the guy earlier, barry raised his hands up in defense. he looked at rafe instead. “jeez, man. what’d you do to her?”

“she did this to herself,” rafe said before stepping aside and rushing up to your room.

“s-slow down!” you whined. your body was jolting with every step he took. “‘s not a race.”

“jesus, kid. you’re bossy when you’re drunk.”

“i’ll show you bossy.”

rafe chose to not pay attention to your comment. something about the way you said it made his cock stir. when you both arrived outside your bedroom door, he set you down on your feet.

“tootsie is secured,” he said into his ear piece.

tootsie was your code name. it was given to you by your father, a childhood nickname that stuck. now, every single secret agent within a 5 mile radius called you that. it was embarrassing but what kind of father would he be if he didn’t make your life a little miserable?

“well…goodnight!” rafe said and turned around to walk away. he stopped when he felt you grab his arm. he rolled his eyes and looked back at you. “what now?”

“can you help me?” you asked shyly.

“you forget how to clean yourself up?”

“i need help untying my shirt.”

sighing for the millionth time tonight, he followed you into your bedroom.

your room was a perfect representation of you. the smell of lavender from your essential oil diffuser lingered throughout the area. your vanity was covered with makeup and jewelry. your closet could barely shut with all of the clothes stuffed inside it.

you tossed your purse onto the bed and kicked off your heels.

“your room is uh…it’s nice.” rafe complimented. he had never been in here.

you smiled and thanked him. you walked towards your private bathroom. rafe stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while you took your makeup off. when you stepped out, he was greeted with your natural beauty. he never really got a good look at you until now. he thought you were pretty. like really pretty.

���what?” you asked him with a small laugh.

he composed himself and stopped gawking, clearing his throat. “sorry,” he replied.

your cheeks warmed. “it’s okay,” you waltzed over to your vanity and sat down on the ottoman in front of it. “you can tell me i’m beautiful.”

his eyes widened. you were so bold tonight. “no, that’s not what i—i mean! you are but i-” his cheeks were turning red.

you laughed again and turned around to start your skincare routine. “it’s okay. i know what you meant,” you teased.

he let out a deep breath. you began to sprinkle toner onto your hands, completely ignoring his presence altogether. he waited while you finished. he watched you as you walked towards him slowly. when you were close to his chest, you tilted your head back to look up at him. he swallowed nervously and stared intensely. you two were quiet for a moment before you turned around, moving your hair out of the way. “can you untie me?” you ask softly.

“s-sure.”

you held your breath as he placed one hand on your shoulder and used his other to loosen the strings of your corset top. you turned back around, cupping the front to shield your breasts.

“ok, well, good—” before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a kiss.

his eyes widened and he went to make the move to push you away, but you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you. your top held up as your bodies pressed together. rafe couldn’t help it, it was a natural reaction to grab your waist and kiss you back.

kissing rafe was unlike anything you ever experienced. most guys were scared to even hold your hand for too long. maybe it was because you were drunk or maybe it was because you had harbored these feelings for so long—but either way, you needed to kiss him. you slid your hands down his chest and began unbuttoning his shirt. his eyes suddenly shot open and he snapped out of the heated moment between you. he grabbed your hands and pulled his head back.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, just a little embarrassed.

“you’re drunk,” he reminded you. “this ain’t what you want, kid.”

you pouted. “you don’t know what i want.”

he shook his head and smoothed down your hair, avoiding eye contact with you. “you have no idea what you just started, sweetheart.”

[deviiancetv]

Cinema Starview Presents: Hawkeye & Spider-Men

Heyyoo, I decided to do a two-part review in one of both the Hawkeye series & Spider-Man No Way Home. I wanted to merge the two, because they both came out at the same time, and I do not feel like writing two separate reviews. Spoilers if you haven’t watched either one (but really, what are you waiting for??) Let’s begin!!

Hawkeye // SCORE: 7.9/10 ⭐️

I really enjoyed watching Hawkeye, mostly because my love for Hailee Steinfeld has existed since her song ‘Love Myself’ released, plus she’s a PHENOMENAL actress. She knows how to get into character and really just take on the character as if she is the character. From her role in The Edge of Seventeen, Pitch Perfect 3, voicing Gwen in Into The Spiderverse, voicing Vi in Arcane, and now playing Kate Bishop in future MCU movies. She’s really fantastic.

The story revolves around Kate Bishop, and her mom, Eleanor Bishop, who runs a security company, she finds out her mom works for Kingpin, a known business typhoon who has shady practices. Kate ends up getting involved after going to a fancy dinner with her mom, and future stepdad/skilled swordsman Jack Duquesne (whom gets framed by Eleanor for killing his uncle & all of her own nefarious activities onto him). He bids for a sword that belonged to Ronin at a charity event. Then, the Tracksuit Gang tried to steal all of the valuable auction items, and Kate suits up in the Ronin suit to stop them. They manage to steal a valuable watch that belonged to Clint’s wife Laura (who is revealed to be Mockingbird), which then pulls Clint out of retirement to deal with the mess she’s caused, and to clean up his own buried bones. We get to see Maya aka Echo (who’s getting her own series soon) as she’s one of the bosses of The Tracksuit Gang that work for her & her father’s partner, Kingpin. Yelena gets involved as well after being hired by Eleanor to k*ll Clint for what he did to her sister. It was fun seeing Yelena & Kate conversate. I love Yelena’s character, she’s stealthy, agile, and her chemistry with Kate is top tier!! Also there’s Kate’s new pizza golden retriever dog (he’s adorable), and they had some misadventures with a bunch of LARP cosplayers (Grills is cool asf, I wanna LARP with him lol). Then the show ended with Kate going to go and live with Clint and his family, which was so sweet. I hope Jack gets to live a good life and joins the LARP Community

I liked this show more than I thought I would, my only gripe is I wish the show was longer, and had more time to settle out plot points so that they didn’t seem so rushed. That’s one of my biggest gripes with Marvel shows, they’re never long enough & the plot slowly gets rushed in the midst of everything they’re trying to set up. Other than that, I did enjoy it. But please Marvel Studios & Disney, no more musicals ♡

____________

Spider-Man: No Way Home // SCORE: 9.2/10 ⭐️

Oohhhh now THIS MOVIE, THIS FUDGING MOVIEEE!!! It’s one for the books. Yes there are small problems (leaks, Dr. Strange’s use in the film, and the movie being a bit rushed), but the hype is well deserved. Tom Holland has taken on the mantle of Spider-Man so well, a young superhero who’s naive and new to this world, but wanting to leave a lasting impact like The Avengers.

We start off with the movie taking place a week after Mysterio was murdered, and the framing of Spider-Man beginning. Matt Murdock aka Daredevil coming in to help represent Peter as his lawyer, and while trying to deal with legal matters, Peter, Aunt May, & Happy go into seclusion to protect Peter. After finding out he & his friends MJ, and Ned didn’t get accepted to M.I.T. he goes to Dr. Strange to find away to erase his identity of being known as Spider-Man. Peter ends up messing up the spell, and a slew of villains from different parallel universes come and try to attack Peter. Dr. Octavius, Green Goblin, Electro, Sandman, & Lizard. Tom’s Peter wants to rehabilitate the villains so that when they return back to their worlds they won’t die, and he traps Dr. Strange in a brief fight in the Mirror Dimension. That doesn’t last long til Norman Jekyll/Hyde’s himself to his Green Goblin persona, and recks havoc on Peter, convincing the other villains that there’s nothing wrong with them & kills Peter’s Aunt May. While eating dinner at Ned’s place, Ned & MJ open two portals that both Andrew & Tobey’s Spider-Men step out of to help Tom’s Peter fight The Sinister Five villains. Watching them all fight together was really cool, and how they’re all brothers in a weird way. Dr. Octavius coming in clutch to help stop Electro, and Electro giving us a small hint at Miles Morales “there’s gotta be a black Spider-Man out there somewhere…” AAAHHAAHHH!!! Andrew’s Spider-Man saves MJ from falling to her death, Tom’s Peter fights and cures Green Goblin back to being Norman, and he makes a great sacrifice by having people forget the memory of him ever being Spider-Man. He goes back to living his regular life, and creates a new suit. The end credit scene with Eddie Brock and Venom in their universe was funny as hell.

So that’s the end, I loved the VFX, the team up of all the Spider-Men fighting together, getting to see a more darker storyline for Tom’s Peter, and seeing Andrew & Tobey’s Peter’s help him through his journey throughout the film. Aunt May’s death, and everyone forgetting who Spider-Man is. One of my gripes was that most of the plot was leaked months in advance, I can’t help to think it was Sony being shady, but if you weren’t spoiled like I was and stayed off the internet for the past year, you probably were thoroughly surprised. I also think that the use for Dr. Strange just being there was more for a power device than really anything, but it was pretty cool to see him here and how he’s so connected to the Multiverse storyline that future MCU movies will explore (leading to his sequel movie teased at the end of No Way Home). Despite those small unnoticeable nitpicks, I thought the movie was really good, and if you haven’t seen it, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!!.

You did it Peter, you cured dat ass. 😏

[author-morgan]

Your work is so good, you should do this for a living! Your Ivarr stories are treasurers! Because quality Ivarr content that matches up exactly with my fantasies are rare, and I'm shit poet...

Could you please do one where the clan's dainty sweetheart secretly has the hots for Ivarr but avoids him because she doesn't know how to act around him.

He's also into her but thinks she hates him.

She gets terribly drunk for first time ever, throws herself at Ivarr...

Confused but also turned on, he internally struggles because doesn't want to take advantage of her.

He puts her to bed/or gets someone else to do it? Ubba? Because he doesn't trust himself to be alone with her?

Finds her when she's sober and not hungover, confronts her because drunken words are sober thoughts. She's embarrassed but they end up having really great sex!!!

i do write for a living, just not creative writing oh the joys of academia. apologies for the long wait, but here's more Ivarr! hope you enjoy! ♥ i kind of went overboard (like 3.3k words overboard) but it's Ivarr and i'm thirsty as hell for this bastard. Ivarr the Boneless x fem!Reader

EIVOR SHAKES HIS head. His arms crossed with a frown playing on his lips. He doesn’t see what you do —why of all the people in Midgard, you only have eyes for Ivarr the Boneless. Even Ubba would be a better choice, he thinks. It’s in Eivor’s nature to worry over and protect the ones he loves after all he’s lost. You are another example of Styrbjorn’s charity to those he considered friends, just as he is Sigurd’s brother in all but blood, you are their sister and have been for many years —becoming a temper for the two rowdy boys, favoring the healing arts over swordplay and battle.

Since Eivor’s initial meeting with Ivarr in Repton, there’s been something about his methods and outlook that sets Eivor at unease, even more so now that he’s caught Ivarr’s gaze lingering on you —like now during the autumn feast. Some jest, saying opposites attract, and while that seldom seems to be the truth, it is for you and Ivarr. He is cold iron, warm blood, a harsh winter —and you’re soft silks, a cool breeze, fresh spring blooms.

He’s seen the looks you share with Ivarr. Fleeting and flirtatious, but that is nigh all you share besides few rushed words in passing. Ivarr cuts an intimidating presence, and you’ve never been quite sure how to converse with warriors beyond your brothers. It’s nigh as difficult for Ivarr —all he knows is bloodlust and his fellow drengrs— finding the right words to say is not a battle he thinks he can win. There’s fondness between you, almost everyone can see it, but there are times when Ivarr is left to wonder if you truly like him or if your soft smiles and kind words are only a product of his reputation.

Ivarr’s feelings are clear to himself, though, especially as he watches you among the people of Ravensthorpe, partaking in the autumn festivities. Seeing you wear a crown of gold and amber leaves, dancing with Ceolbert to the drunken tune of Bragi and his tagelharpa with a tankard of Tekla’s mead in hand makes his heart beat faster, and his mouth go dry. He keeps to the benches, reminding himself that a drengr does not dance —at least not this type of dance.

The evening fades, but the festivities don’t. Soma claims her clan throws the best feasts, though you’re tempted to challenge the jarlskona for the title since Ravensthorpe has grown. You look around, searching for your brothers, but Sigurd has retired for the evening, and Eivor is slumped over on one of the tables, asleep —his hand still curled around the handle of his mead cup. Sighing, you find Ivarr’s gaze in the hazy air of the longhouse, half-shocked by the intensity and darkness, half-eager to return the lust-laden stare with your own.

Emboldened by the mead, you gather another horn and move across the longhouse where Ivarr sits. With a smile, you offer him the horn of mead before taking the empty spot on the bench next to him. He eyes you, curious, as he turns up the horn —downing the mead in a few gulps— and turns his attention to you. Spurred on by the moment, you lean closer, twisting to drape your legs across his thighs, squirming more than needed. “What game are you playing at, little dove?” Ivarr asks, his gaze dark and tone dangerous. You only smile, flitting your eyes up to meet his as you tip up your cup.

The soft plucking lyre strings and the low thrum of the tagelharpa are nigh enough to lull you to sleep coupled with the stillness. When you start to sway, both from the trance of the music and the heaviness of your eyes, Ivarr brings you closer to his side before deciding it best to see you off for the night —lest he is on the receiving end of Sigurd or Eivor’s anger. Ivarr pushes the bench back from the table, slipping his arms around your shoulders and beneath your knees, rising with you cradled in his arms —head resting on the leather of his shoulder pauldron.

When Ivarr places you on the straw and rag stuffed mattress of your cottage at the eastern edge of the settlement, you are not eager to part with him —the bulge tenting his britches tell you he’s not eager to leave you either. “Don’t” —you hiccup, lips turning into a pout as you lift the hem of your skirt to show the bare skin of your calves and beyond— “don’t you want me?”

Gods, Ivarr wants you. Just the thought of lying with you sets his blood hot and racing —like a giddy boy before his first battle. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted a woman more. But he can smell the mead on your breath and see the weariness hiding in your eyes. Ivarr knows it is the drink speaking for you, and he will not be the one to dishonor such a woman as you. “You’ve too much drink, little dove,” he chides in a rough chuckle, uncurling your fingers from their hold on his tunic. “Sleep,” Ivarr says, sitting back on his haunches —drinking in your appearance for a final time, “I doubt you’ll say the same thing come the morning.”

MORNING BREAKS AND so does your uneasy rest. The scent of smoke and mead clings to your skin and clothes, as does a dried sheen of sweat. Rising, you strip out of the soiled clothes and into a linen shift. With the hour still early and some only just retiring for bed from the feast, you gather up a cake of soap and boar-bristle brush, heading toward the small waterfall and pool at the northern edge of the settlement. Sparing a quick look around and now certain you’re alone, you strip, stepping into the clear, cool water with a sharp inhale.

Humming a soft song, you wring the suds from your hair and cross toward the bank where your clothes lay, but the snap of a branch underfoot stops you. Gaze darting around, you see him emerge from behind the trunk of a large tree near the stables. “Ivarr,” you greet, not shying away from his wandering gaze. His silence and the look in his eyes make you smile as you wade in his direction, stopping when the water brushes the underside of your breasts. “Are you watching me?” It’s a redundant question that needs no answer besides the hungry look in Ivarr the Boneless’s eyes.

“What you said last night–” he starts, voice surprisingly cautious, but you cut him off with a wave of a hand and scolding grin. “I was not that drunk, Ivarr.” Tekla’s mead had not dulled your senses, only gave you the courage to act on buried feelings. He lifts his brow and rakes his hand through his parted hair. “And yes. I meant it,” you tell him, wearing the same look now as you had last night nigh begging Ivarr to have his way with you. If Ivarr is surprised by the truth of your feelings, he hides it well. You motion to the pristine pool of water and bite down on your bottom lip before finding his gaze again. “Join me?”

Ties and buckles rustle as he hastily kicks away his boots, drops the fittings of his armor, and does away with his britches and tunic. Ivarr circles you like a wolf eyeing his wounded prey, and then he pounces, wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans forward, trailing his nose along your shoulder and neck —rough hands trailing up your sides and around to your breasts, squeezing them and teasing your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

When you gasp, he bites down on your shoulder and rocks his hips into your ass with a low chuckle. “You know who I am?” He means it as a warning —a warning of his bloodthirsty and unkind nature, that he is not a man to sing sweet songs or offer tender caresses. You already know that, having been privileged to witness Ivarr the Boneless in battle and know him outside of his craft.

“I do,” you answer, unwilling to shy away. He sucks in a sharp breath when you turn to face him, stepping closer and look up at him under lidded eyes with a wicked smile that sends blood rushing to his already half-hard cock. Careening toward Ivarr, you brush your lips across his jaw, settling one hand over the dark tattoo of Yggdrasil on his breast. “And if I wanted gentle,” you breathe at his ear, nipping at his neck, “I would fuck one of the Saxon monks.”

Ivarr laughs, grinning, but it falters when you reach below the water and squeeze his cock and balls, giving no doubt to your intentions or your wants. “Careful, little dove,” he hisses, tilting your chin up. He hunches, ashen hair half-falling before his face as he leans down and kisses you, warm, open-lipped, and intoxicating.

You pull back with a groan, and Ivarr chasing your lips, stopped only by your hands cupping his face —thumb tracing the deep scar on his cheek. “While giving the gods a show sounds delightful” —Ivarr’s lusty eyes take on a twinkle at the thought. Suddenly he’s picturing you splayed out on a Christian altar, spent from his love with his seed dripping from your cunt. His cock twitches, pressed tight against your belly— “Sigurd or Eivor finding us like this is less enticing.” Had it been anyone other than Ivarr, your brothers would have turned a blind eye, but neither have particularly liked the interest you and Ivarr show in one another.

Stepping back, you grip onto his wrist, staying his hands from their wandering assault, and pull him toward the waterfall and the small cave beyond. Before Ivarr has a chance to move again, you smile for him in the dim light, sliding an open hand to the nape of his neck, drawing him closer. With your lips pressed against his, Ivarr can only reciprocate —he parts your lips with his tongue, hands curling into your hips in a vice grip. But when the kiss breaks, you shimmy from his grasp and trail your lips to the dip in his neck —licking and laving.

“Having your lips on my skin is torture,” he inhales, hand fisting in your hair as you move down to the tattoo of Sleipnir at the center of his chest. You laugh softly and lean back, his eyes piercing through you. The smile on your lips is roguish, but you do not let up, making your way to his abdomen where a few small scars are clustered. Ivarr moans above you, and you haven’t even touched his aching, dripping cock yet. His hand reaches for your breasts, but you knock it away, having yearned for this moment for too long to let it slip away.

He titters at your enthusiasm and rolls his hips forward. Not dissuaded, you press your lips to the scar next to his navel, right below one of the dark runes tattooed on his abdomen. The hand still twined in your hair tightens, pushing you down to your knees. Ivarr’s legs are powerfully built, the muscles of his calves and thighs flex as you run your hand over them appreciatively, still finding small scars to trace and kisses, purposefully ignoring the hard cock pressed against his stomach. His hands clench as you kiss the skin of his thighs, your hair tickling the underside of his cock.

You smile at his surprised gasp when you drag the flat of your tongue along his cock, tracing along a vein running up the length of his shaft. Ivarr’s unable to hold back his groan when your fingers wrap around his girth, giving a few heavy strokes. And then, without warning, you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He tastes of salt and iron and something forbidden and dangerous. Taking his cock as far as you can, you press your tongue against the underside, silently humming.

Above you, Ivarr chokes your name like a ragged prayer —it fills you with pride to know the son of Ragnar Lodbrok is coming apart at your hands and mouth, unable to say anything but your name. The lords of England may fear the whisper of his name, but right now, he is at your mercy.

Slowly, he begins to thrust himself into your mouth, but he makes no move to command your movements. Instead, his impatience wins over. He pulls you away from pleasuring him with your mouth. “Enough,” Ivarr says, his voice ragged as he crouches down, hand sliding from your hair and down to tweak one of your pebbled nipples, then lower still until he comes to the warmth between your thighs, slick with arousal. You whimper, gripping onto Ivarr’s shoulder when he pushes two fingers into your cunt, curling and thrusting. “On your knees, little dove,” he rasps. He warned you, and now he means to make good on his silent promise.

You struggle to gain your balance on the uneven ground of the small cave, but soon did, only to nigh lose it again when Ivarr slides the blunt head of his cock through your slick folds —thrice over before gripping onto your shoulder with one hand and guiding himself into your warmth with the other. Ivarr’s moan when he sinks inside you is breathless and airy, a misplaced sound from the likes of him. He grips you tight —one hand on your shoulder still, the other on your hip— holding your squirming body still as he eases his way into you. Your shoulders curl forward at the sudden wide spread of his cockhead into your body, fingers digging into the soft earth beneath you.

Ivarr pants against your shoulders —you can feel the open brush of his mouth along the sensitive skin of your spine and neck— as he draws his hips back and slams his cock back into you. You buck your hips back in time with his thrust, and Ivarr growls. You move with him as he fucks into you, squeezing with your inner muscles and whimpering in loud gasps. “Ivarr,” you chant, over-and-over.

He’s pounding hard immediately, giving in to the hunger that’s been consuming the both of you for far too long to be decent. His fingers are strong, streaking against your skin as his grip slides, something to discolor and bruise you by evening. But it feels so fucking good. You toss your head back, finding a glimpse of his face in this aching position with back arched, teeth shining in the low light, and eyes burning on you. He’s feral and ruined, and his fingers bend on your skin.

The building tension fades when he draws back, leaving you aching and empty. Ivarr spins you to face him as he reclines. “Ride me,” he commands, kissing you quickly, with an open mouth and teeth scraping your bottom lip. You pull away from the kiss, moving so you could sit atop him, straddling his hips, his back against a smoothed boulder. Breathless, Ivarr cannot be bothered with the loss of control —reckless abandon shines in your eyes, and he cannot help but grin as you slide down on his cock. He grunts enthralled at the feel of your warm cunt around him, walls clenching to feel every ridge and vein.

Moments pass, and you begin to move on top of Ivarr, rolling your hips into his. He groans, rough hands torn between holding onto your hips or pawing at your breasts. Instead, he decides to push himself up and let his lips attack your jaw and throat —biting and suckling— and annoyed at the slow in pace, Ivarr thrusts his hips up into yours, a sign to move faster. You don’t hesitate —lost to the exquisite bliss, clawing, desperate and eager. Holding Ivarr’s face in your hands, you try finding his lips with your own, but all you can do is moan and pant with him into his mouth, lost in the craven pleasure.

Ivarr bites hard in the crook of your shoulder and neck as he repeatedly drives his hips upward, chasing his and your releases. One of his hands slips between your bodies —his calloused thumb teasing your clit in a way that makes your hips stutter and body trembles, nails clawing into Ivarr’s shoulders. He grits his teeth, wondering if his little dove had broken skin. The burst of pain fades quickly as he watches your body bounce in time with his thrusts and listens to the moans and pants echoing off the cave walls and water.

He knows he’s close, his pants ragged and thrusts sloppy and desperate. The hitch in your breathing when he presses his thumb against your clit tells him you’re close to. It’s the boiling heat between you that takes hold, curling your toes and parting your lips in a silent throe, hands digging into Ivarr’s biceps as he chases his pleasure —teeth bared and bright eyes burning. Several thrusts later, his body tenses, and a dull warmth spreads between your connected bodies, and still, he is not done with the thrill of how you tremble and whine above him, but the rhythm soon slows, and you fall forward, resting your head on Ivarr’s chest.

You sit there, savoring the last twinges of carnal gratification, with your bodies rising and falling as you breathe in unison. And when the haze clears, you trace the small scars near his shoulders and follow the blue-black runes tattooed on his middle.

After what feels like an eternity, you feel him shift underneath you, sitting up on his hands. Ivarr glances over you —the small purple marks at the base of your neck from his lips and teeth, how your nipples are still hard, begging to have his mouth on them, and how your bodies are still connected. His cock is soft now, his seed seeping from your cunt and drying on your thighs —Ivarr thinks it a glorious sight. He hisses as he pulls himself out of your warmth, slowly, relishing in the gasps and whimpers you make at the resultant empty feeling it leaves between your thighs.

With flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you tell him you must go —this escapade would have already made you late for your daily duties, and the last thing you wish is for one of your brothers or Valka to find you in this state. He follows you from the cave behind the waterfall, back to the bank where his and your clothes are strewn. Gentler than you’d imagine, Ivarr kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before cupping your face with strong, rough fingers and moving your lips back to his. You let him move you, kissing you back, smiling against his mouth. “Come to me at nightfall,” you breathe against his lips, parting to gather up your clothes and shoes.

Ivarr grins, swatting your ass before pulling you against his chest, keeping you from reaching for your linen shift —his chin resting on your shoulder as his hand slides between your legs and two fingers sinking into your cunt, still slick with your essence and his seed. “That eager for my cock again, little dove?” He laughs.

He’s silenced when you grind back into his hips with a glint of mischief shining in your eyes. Ivarr lets you go, though reluctant, and watches you dress from the corner of his eye. It’s impulse driving you when you decide duties can wait. Smiling, you grip onto Ivarr’s wrist —he’s only half-dressed in his britches and boots, tunic in hand— and drag him away from the waterfall and toward your home in the settlement. Consequences be damned. It feels as though the gods made you and Ivarr for one another, and you aren’t willing to let another moment be wasted.

[taglist: @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians @fullmoonwolfer1 @ghostieisalone @boodaga @southsideslutt @dynamite-with-a-lazerbeam @lizlovecraft @heathensith @alexisp787 @nobodyydobon @certifiedlittleshit ] if your name is italicized, tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. if you want to be added to my taglist for Ivarr, just let me know in the replies or a DM!

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #6

Feel free to message me about possible corrections, and please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

← Previous || Index || Next →

Moonstone’s Charity

“The moon is beautiful, huh!”

By the time that we exited the Shiseido Parlor, it was already completely dark outside. The moon loomed a faint blue, as if overlooking the night view of Ginza. Putting his coat back on, Richard silently averted his eyes when I looked back at him with an “isn’t it”. At any rate, I had gotten wholly used to eating out with this guy on Saturdays after work. It was worth making him puddings as payback, I thought.

“Speaking of which, the stone you sold to today’s customers was a ‘stone of the moon’, wasn’t it?”

“Please call it ‘moonstone’. There are other rock specimens that are referred to as ‘stones of the moon’. Confusing the meaning of the words is deplorable.”

“Is that so?! Aight, I’ll take it to heart.”

Today’s customers were the parents of a naïve young lady, and the goods they bought were a moonstone jewelry set for her. It seemed that the young lady, who still had childish facial traits, was going to get married, so her parents ordered a necklace from Etranger for her to take along when the time came. Bearing a rainbow light over a milky blue color, the cabochon-cut moonstone was combined with white diamonds for the necklace and bracelet. It overflowed with a soulful beauty, almost as if it had borrowed the glow of an aurora from a Scandinavian sky.

Apparently, the moonstone, which was also one of the June birthstones, had been familiarized as a power stone since the distant past, and was renowned especially as a stone that celebrated the well-being and fortune of women. Having the commemorative jewelry delivered to her as a surprise, the young lady had cried until her eyes were bright red, but she recovered by way of a sweet royal milk tea, expressing gratitude to her parents with a sniffling nose. I believed that there were several forms of joy depending on each person, and what I had witnessed today was unmistakably one of them.

Even as we headed to the parking lot where Richard’s jaguar was, the moon followed us from the gaps between the buildings. As I walked while looking up and repeating, “It’s really pretty, so pretty”, Richard seemed exasperated.

“‘The moon is beautiful’, huh. Are college students not familiar with anecdotes of their own country’s literary figures nowadays?”

“Don’t they read that stuff? I’m in the faculty of economics, so there’s lots of people with names written in horizontal characters on our textbooks. Like Marx Weber or Mankiw.”

“What about Futabatei Shimei or Natsume Souseki?”

“I’ll ask you back: have you read them?”

“Yes.”

Uwah. As I cried out, the gorgeous jeweler sighed. “Honestly, today’s youths,” he said.

I ended up laughing at him without thinking.

“What is it?”

“You say ‘youths’ but you’re pretty young yourself.”

“I merely disagree with the worldwide trend of thinking that classical literature is an enjoyment for old age. The world, matured by the various interpretations of our ancestors, is deep and wide-ranging, as well as something that envelopes our hearts, just like stones.”

“Feels like the part where stones come up is ‘just as expected of Richard-san’.”

“I will take that as a compliment.”

“I am complimenting you. I have the feeling that I get smarter when we talk.”

“For you to be the kind who is satisfied with just ‘having a feeling’, my existence must be a harmful one.”

“I shall take this to heart... Aah, by the way, in sociology or some other class, I heard that the phrase ‘had a feeling’ has increased too much in pop music. Why is that? I guess it’s because, when they assert, ‘I can be strong!’ instead of, ‘I have the feeling I can be strong, I find myself inwardly wanting to retort with a, ‘Nope, nope, it’s not like that’ and the mood cools off.”

“Unfortunately, I have not studied the trends of modern Japan’s younglings. But if we are to speak of such things, even the power invoked by stones is a matter of ‘having a feeling’.”

“Is it okay for a jeweler to be saying that?”

“We are already out of business hours. Besides, this is not a negative subject in particular.”

Having arrived at the parking lot, Richard glanced at me and folded his arms lightly. He was a beautiful man from the top of his head to the tips of his toenails, like a doll made of moonlight. I was used to looking at his figure, but beautiful things will be beautiful. I could look at him without ever getting tired and it would put me in a good mood, just like the moon.

“W-What? What’s up?”

“I mean that people can become strong just from ‘having a feeling’. The power of belief is namely the force of human beings who seek hope even in a small gleam. Is that not a wonderful thing? On nights like these, when we ‘have the feeling’ that we are being protected by the light of the moon, people are sure to be in some sort of calm mood.” Saying this, as if to copy me or something, Richard looked up at the night sky above the buildings of Ginza and murmured, “The moon is truly beautiful.” He then smoothly got on the jaguar’s driver seat. I followed him on the passenger seat.

Still, this car’s seat base did an exquisite inclination no matter how many times I sat on it. It felt like a chair sticking to your body.

“Well, are you okay with dropping off at Takadanobaba?”

“Thank you. By the way, should I reply with the ‘I could die now’ already?”

Richard’s face at that moment was a spectacle. His mouth and beautiful eyebrows distorted as if to say, “Haah?”. His eyes stared dangerously at me.

“I mean, isn’t that the context? Futabate Shimei and Natsume Souseki, right?”

“I love you”.

Apparently, the literary masters of the Meiji Era had racked their brains about to how to translate a sentence that didn’t originally exist in the Japanese language. This would be a standard drinking party talk. Well, I didn’t know if there was a standard for all kinds of drinking parties, but just recently, during a drinking party we held with a group of men from the Department of Letter’s Faculty of Japanese Literature, we got fired-up over that topic. “Girls like this kind of talk, so you guys from the Faculty of Economics should also keep it in mind every once in a while,” they told us. Futabate Shimei used “I could die now” as a code for “I am yours” and Natsume Souseki used the anecdote “the moon is beautiful, isn’t it” as what was claimed to be a good anecdote for “I love you”. We were thankful for the trivia. That being said, none of the members who attended the drinking party had girlfriends, so I had thought there would be no opportunity to use this trivia, but to my surprise...

Richard, who had been stiff for a moment, exhaled with a loud “haaah” and turned the engine key. The body of the iron machine shuddered.

“That was terrifying.”

“So even you got freaked out! I can say some Japanese-like things too.”

“I will proceed to kick you if you say the same thing again. Be quiet for the time being.” Richard pulled the car out of the parking lot from backward, and as he stepped onto the accelerator and we got out into the street, the car trundled on with us in silence for a while. After we had passed four or five buildings, the beautiful jeweler opened his mouth again, “These words are not meant to be spoken lightly. A sentence taken out of context is like a lonely stone removed from a bracelet. In what kind of situation did people say, ‘The moon is beautiful’ or under what circumstances did they think, ‘I could die now’? What matters is the process until things arrived to that point, and not scraps of words. In the past, during the times when the people of this country were not as filled with imported mentalities as they are now, they probably understood this very well.”

“Hey, why’d you think of reading Natsume Souseki?”

Richard didn’t respond. I’d known for a while now that there were lots of things this guy didn’t want to answer, but his silence at the question was unexpected. Was something up?

Something related to moments when he might feel like saying things such as “the moon is beautiful” or “I could die now”.

It was clearly not a topic that I should pry too much about. Pretending to have found something interesting out the window, I put on a smile with no particular connotation. Leaning my body against the window, I looked up at the sky. “Ah, I can still see the moon.”

“You do not say. Is it beautiful?”

“Yup, but you’re more beautiful.”

Richard’s hand instantaneously glided in a swift motion. He pressed the car stereo switch. What played at an explosively loud volume wasn’t the Finnish rock that I had listened to before. It was a sutra in an ethnic-sounding female voice. That was all I could say. What was this? As I asked in a loud voice what language that song was in, he said it was Bengali. Was it an Indian song then? I couldn’t talk to him unless I shouted in one breath.

“HEY! IF I PISSED YOU OFF, SERIOUSLY, I’M SORRY!”

Richard’s mouth moved in the form of an “I cannot hear you”. It seemed he wasn’t in the mood for conversation. But he didn’t look angry. The corners of his lips were smiling just slightly. Like he wanted to say that this was so stupid it made him laugh. He appeared a lot more relaxed than when listing up the names of those literary figures, so I became kinda happy.

When I got out of the car, the southern country atmosphere was gone at once. At the roundabout in Takadanobaba, Richard took off with the jaguar as soon as he said goodbye. As the same old habit, for whatever reason, I ended up watching him off until I couldn’t see him anymore.

As I looked up the blue moon was floating in the black sky, unchanged. This was also a matter of “having a feeling”, but this emotion I was feeling today at this moment was a definite form of happiness too.

Honestly, the moon was beautiful tonight.

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - COME TO THE RESCUE - Chapter 2

Translation of chapter 2 of the event ‘COME TO THE RESCUE’ from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Marion: ……..

Marion: Thank you for coming to listen to my performance today. I’m certain everyone is going through their fair share of trouble at the moment. I hope that I was able to provide a moment of peace, even if it was only briefly, 

Little girl: ….Marion, you’re amaziiing!!

Mother: I’m glad that we came to watch. The way Marion plays piano is truly lovely…!

Young guy: I was feeling down at first, but that bright song lifted me up again…!

Man: The third song was great! I feel like it kinda motivated me!

Will: (Marion’s songs melted the stress of the citizens of South away....)

Will: (Amazing. To think that music can serve as a way to help out too…!)

-

Marion: (Most of the guests left by now, haven’t they. After the performance they rushed to come shake my hand and ask for signatures, but I could feel that it had a positive influence on the citizens.)

Marion: (It was my first concert for charity, still I knew all would end well.)

Will: Marion-san…!

Marion: It’s you…. Dropped by too, huh

Will: Yes. Your performance was amazingly good. You could really feel that everyone felt better after it.

Marion: If they didn’t, there would be no meaning to holding a charity concert

Will: I also… could feel myself getting encouraged from those gentle sounds.

Marion: ….You too?

Will: Ahaha. Just have a lot on my plate lately...

Marion: Hmmm….

Marion: All well and good that music makes you feel better, but wouldn’t it be more effective to eat sweets in your case? 

Will: Eh….?

Marion: When we talked about pancakes before, you told me that this café here had delicious pancakes.

Will: Ah, yes…! You remembered that

Marion: Hmph. I have an excellent memory. I remember all the places that you told me about.

Will: All of them!? I’m sure that I talked about quite a few various ones though…

Marion: I was thinking of having some pancakes and heading back after the concert ended…. What about you?

Will: !! Please let me join you….!

-

Clerk: Apologies for the wait. Here’s the pancake and black tea set. And here you can use these to your heart’s content. 

Will: Fufu. I thought about how I wanted to eat pancakes with you sometime, Marion-san.

Marion: Right. …..Uh

Marion: Are you sure you wanna put on that much…..?

Will: This honey is super delish. Besides, we’re allowed to pour as much as we want to for free ♪

Marion: Huuh….

Will: I absolutely love suuuuper sweet pancakes… The sweeter it is, the happier it’ll make you, don’t you agree?

Marion: Well, I also enjoy sweets. I really do, but….

Will: ♪~♪~

Marion: ….Hey, are you sure that isn’t too much?

Will: Eeeh, I’m still not done yet. I’ll keep pouring until my pancakes are covered in honey♪

Will: Do you want some too, Marion-san? I really recommend adding some

Marion: No, I’ll pass. It’s delicious enough as is for me...

Will: Mmm~ So sweet and tasty♪ Now this is pure bliss

[hd-wireless]

🎶 H/D WIRELESS FEST - REVEALS 🎶

At last, the day you’ve been waiting for! It’s the REVEALS! 

Come check out the talented people who created your favourite Wireless fics and artworks!

Massive thanks once again to all the 54 creators of our 64 works (yes some people created multiple works! Special mention to cloudlesslysky who wrote FIVE fics!). And thanks also to all the readers, betas and supporters of H/D Wireless! It’s been a bumper year!

Without further ado...

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 Stuck on the Bridge Between Us (G)  by pygmy_puffy @pygmy-puffy

🎵 Song prompt: Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan

🎵 Summary: finding the courage within themselves to be vulnerable, so they can stop hurting the other and start loving each other as they so deeply want and need to

📻  So Let's Dance, Take a Chance, Understand Me (T) by Dazed_and_Inked @dazedandinked

🎵 Song prompt: T.Rex, Get It On

🎵 Summary: The War is over and everything has changed.

After a few of years of travelling around the world, Harry decided to move to Muggle London, looking for peace and a place where the scar on his forehead doesn’t have a meaning. His new flat is in a perfectly normal neighbourhood close to the centre, quiet during the day but full of students at night.

He really likes the small bar down the road, a place that serves cheap, awful drinks and plays good old classics. It’s always crammed with people talking, laughing or dancing along with the riff of electric guitars.

From the first time he crossed the threshold, Harry thought it was perfect, the right mix of noise and warmth to be alone without feeling alone. Just what he needed.

He couldn’t imagine that someone else was there for the very same reason, looking for a place where the Dark Mark was only a tattoo.

Blame it on the alcohol, on the music or whatever you want, but when Harry’s eyes landed on Draco’s slim figure, swaying on the dancefloor, something warm and inexplicable possessed him. 

📻  The Pass (T) by julchen_in_red @julcheninred

🎵 Song prompt: The Pass, by Rush

🎵 Summary: Draco, lost in darkness, seeks a guiding light.

📻  If you knew… (T) by gnarf @gnarf

🎵 Song prompt: Young Folks from Peter Bjorn and John

🎵 Summary: The war had left scars on all of them.  Some were obvious. Some only if they looked closely. But the worst ones were those they couldn't see. Those that were hidden inside.

📻  an ode to the boy i love (G) by nettleforest @nettleforest

🎵 Song prompt: Animal - Troye Sivan

🎵 Summary: an evocation of vulnerability, trust and tenderness

📻  Home Sweet Home (G) by gnarf @gnarf

🎵Song prompt: Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

🎵 Summary: In the middle of a Zombie apocalypse Harry made it his main goal to find a safe home for Draco and himself.

📻  Turn back time (T)  bt erlasart @erlasart

🎵 Song prompt: If I Could Turn Back Time - Cher

🎵 Summary: Draco's had a rough few years, if that's what you call falling in with a bad lot, attempted murder and a close brush with death. Now facing the weight of his misdeeds, Draco tries to pinpoint when it all went wrong.

📻  Time to Get Out (T)  by SoldSeperately @secretartlair

🎵 Song prompt: My House - PVRIS

🎵 Summary: A few years post-war, Pansy convinces Draco to go on a night out at a muggle club. They run into some familiar faces.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art and Fic 🎶

📻  A Different Kind of Meaning (E, 17k) by p103 @p103 (art by Zigster)

🎵 Song prompt: Outnumbered - Dermot Kennedy

🎵 Summary: The ceiling doesn't hold any answers, but there are cobwebs scattered across the corners with shadows tangled in their threads. The rug against his back is rough and scratchy, threadbare and devoid of colours other than various shades of brown. Harry takes it all in, absorbs the dingy and depressed state of his home. There's a pointed moment of decision, a note about to be played, a silence about to end, and then he rolls to his feet and sets to cleaning.

It's the first constructive thing he's done in years. 

📻  Keep Holding On (M, 33k) by gnarf @gnarf (fic) and MaesterChill @maesterchill (art)

🎵 Song prompt: Welshly Arms - Sanctuary

🎵 Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget.

Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state.

Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse.

Making new alleys, and losing old ones on the way, would hopefully be worth it in the end.

📻 Fic : Modern Love (E, 61k) by tackytiger @tackytigerfic

📻 Art : Our Love Song (G) by chachisoo @creeeee

🎵 Song prompt: Modern Love by David Bowie

🎵 Fic summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.

And that’s what starts it all.  

🎵 Art summary: Harry and Draco enjoying a Sunday morning bus ride in London.

📻  For the Thousandth Time (T, 14k) by bluefay @thesleepiesthufflepuff (fic) and mehroomiyat (art)

🎵 Song Prompt: Lucky by Aurora

🎵 Summary: When Draco's wand refuses to work after the war, he turns to Harry for help. 

📻 Fic : Returning Tides (E, 24.5k) by Zigster @zigster-ao3

📻 Art : Love Will Tear Us Apart (G) by Zigster @zigster-ao3

🎵 Song prompt: Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division 

🎵 Fic summary: 

Is my timing that flawed? Our respect run so dry? Yet there's still this appeal That we've kept through our lives

🎵 Art summary: Art piece to accompany the fic ‘Returning Tides’, based on the song claim, 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' by Joy Division ***** Harry's brooding while straddling a motorbike. Need I say more?

📻  That Sweet Sweet Craving (E, 33.2k) by TheUltimateUndesirable @ultimateundesirable

🎵 Song prompt: Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons 

🎵 Summary: Harry is miserable living a lie because he thinks being a gay role model is wrong. Fake dates raising money for a charity that ends up putting him in a situation he had never expected. Draco Malfoy appears back in his life by some odd chance trying to flip his world upside down and he isn't sure it's a good thing. Malfoy always worked that way to him. Mental health issues, sex, escaping, and that sweet sweet craving of happiness.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻  Follow the Water (T, 38.2k) by xanthippe74 @xanthippe74

🎵 Song prompt: “Follow the Water” by Calexico/Iron & Wine

🎵 Summary: Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

📻  Life goes not backward (T, 8.8k) by shealwaysreads @shealwaysreads 

🎵 Song prompt: Daughter by Loudon Wainwright

🎵 Summary: Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different.

A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

Leaving one life behind isn’t always a sacrifice, and sometimes the greatest good comes from embracing the people you love. 

📻  The Way We Used To Love (E, 5.3k) by Zzzara @big-draco-energy

🎵 Song prompt: 'Used to Love' by Martin Garrix & Dean Lewis

🎵 Summary: Is there hope when what is not enough for the one happens to be too much for the other? 

📻  but if you close your eyes (T, 3.3k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky 

🎵 Song prompt: Pompeii by Bastille

🎵 Summary: The New Magic Order is trying to take over Wizarding Britain. They're not the Death Eaters, but they're not any better either.

The lines of alliance have shifted, but Harry is still on the front lines working tirelessly to stop them.

📻  Haunt the corner of my eye (T, 23k) by harryromper @harryromper

🎵 Song prompt: Echoes of You - Marianas Trench

🎵 Summary: Harry’s life is very much on track. After a successful career as an Auror, he’s set to become the youngest ever Minister for Magic. But strange things are starting to happen at Grimmauld Place. Items he doesn’t recognise are appearing left and right, and somehow he never feels quite alone. There’s only one thing Harry knows for sure: it has something to do with Draco Malfoy.

📻  Now that the spring is in the air (T, 5.7k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky 

🎵 Song prompt: Seasons in the Sun by Westlife

🎵 Summary: A surprise attack in Diagon Alley leaves Draco struggling to make peace with the fact that he won't live long enough to experience his own wedding.

📻  Seven Days to Monday (M, 11.7k) by static_abyss @static_abyss

🎵 Song prompt: Say Something - A Great Big World

🎵 Summary: There are seven days before Harry has to meet Draco for the final signing of their divorce papers. It's been months and the surprise at finding nothing but more cold sheets and an empty pillow next to him still catches Harry unaware. He doesn't know where they go from here. Whether it's possible to go anywhere after everything that's happened between them.

📻  Blond Brew (E, 30.4k) by MicheleBlack @micheleblack

🎵 Song prompt: “Blondes” by Waterparks

🎵 Summary: A blond roast with soy milk makes Draco's morning, but a pair of green eyes makes his week.

📻  A Series of Nonsensical Events (T, 12.8k) by CoffeeCurse @coffee-curse

🎵 Song prompt: My Gospel by Charlie Puth

🎵 Summary: Malfoy is up to something. When Harry and the other Aurors are called into a Gringotts break-in and find him the culprit, Harry’s at a total loss.

But things only get weirder from then on.

📻  Ignore the Truth (E, 2.6k) by static_abyss @static_abyss

🎵 Song prompt: Dangerously - Charlie Puth

🎵 Summary: "Longtime on-again-off-again lovers Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were caught in a compromising position in one the Ministry's lifts yesterday evening. While fans of the couple are optimistic, there's still doubt as to whether or not this particular reconciliation will last. When asked directly about the nature of his relationship with Draco Malfoy, the Boy Who Lived had simply this to say, 'Fuck right off, we're busy.'"

- The Daily Prophet, "Love Is In The Air," 28th Oct. 2005.   

📻  Your Daddy Knows (You're A Flame) (E, 27.8k) by Ladderofyears @ladderofyears

🎵 Song prompt: Babyfather by Sade (2010)

🎵 Summary: It's just over a week until Draco's twenty-fifth birthday party and Harry Potter is a busy wizard. Amongst all the excitements of fatherhood, work and friends, Harry realises something special about his husband Draco. He is pregnant with their second, much wanted baby.

There's only one problem: Draco is entirely oblivious to the fact and seems determined to remain so. 

📻  Don't search me in here (E, 6.7k) by Sassy3 @sassy-sassy3

🎵 Song prompt: Gone - Charlie XCX & Christine and the Queens

🎵 Summary: Draco spotted him in a corner, crowded by Ministry employees. He looked like an animal, trapped in a cage. He had a strained smile on his , and his eyes were looking everywhere else than on the people in front of him.

Draco can’t quite help himself, watching Potter from afar. Just out of curiosity, of course. He’s happy with his life, nothing is missing, and if he’s lonely it’s entirely by choice. 

📻  I Can Be Your Lighthouse (T, 4k) by orpheus87 

🎵 Song prompt: The Lighthouse by The Used

🎵 Summary: When Harry gets called to investigate reports of Dark magic, the last thing he expects to find is an almost unconscious Draco Malfoy. After multiple instances, he resolves to find out what's going on.

📻  Drop Everything Now (T, 21k) by parkkate @parkkate

🎵 Song prompt: Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift

🎵 Summary: After accidentally bonding himself to Malfoy, Harry finds himself in an utterly precarious situation… 

📻  No one fucks with us (T, 3.3k) by Laura_Sinele @laurasinele

🎵 Song prompt: NFWMB by Hozier

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy wonders for how long has Harry Potter been a terrifying force of nature. Harry Potter thinks Draco Malfoy has been a badass MF all along. If the world has to end so they can have some peace and quiet, be it. They'll set it on fire.

📻  Will You Stay with Me? (M, 10.2k) by EvAEleanor @eva-eleanore

🎵 Song prompt: ‘Run’ - Daughter

🎵 Summary: Ten months ago, Draco had found none other than Harry Potter blindly drunk and bleeding outside a Muggle pub. He'd brought him home and hasn't left his side ever since. He looked after him, took care of him when yet another nightmare plagued him. 

Harry is sure that Draco will leave him at some point, and he can’t let it happen. He can’t have another person leaving his life unexpectedly. So, Harry forces him to leave — after they spend one last night together.

📻  until the sun has changed the colour of my hair (T, 4.9k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky 

🎵 Song prompt: Jag saknar dig mindre och mindre - Melissa Horn

🎵 Summary:  Draco's life has been one big mess ever since Potter broke up with him. He doesn't want to see his friends, he's too ashamed to see his parents, and his apartment is one giant mess. He's constantly prepared for disaster, and spends his time either alone in Muggle parks or in his apartment. But one day... One beautiful day... He will forget Harry, surely.

📻  Love Found (E, 7.5k) by peachpety @peachpety

🎵 Song Prompt: I Found, by Amber Run

🎵 Summary: During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love.

📻  On the Third Day He Took Me to the River (M, 14.4k) by pixiedustatsundown @pixiedustatsundown 

🎵 Song prompt: 'Where the Wild Roses Grow - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds ft. Kylie Minogue'

🎵 Summary: This is a story of two lonely young men falling in love.

This is a story about dreams and duty, about witches that give purpose to the one and doom the other.

You think you know how the story goes, but this is a different story, and it doesn't end well. 

📻  (When They Only Hear You Whisper) I'll Be Loud For You (T, 2.8k) by VeelaWings @veelawings

🎵 Song prompt: There for You - Martin Garrix/Troye Sivan

🎵 Summary: Potter must have been having nightmares again. He was restless in his bed across the room. Moonlight shone through his open bed curtains and highlighted the contours of his body, the grimace on his face blatant. His thick blanket was kicked down, one leg still covered by his twisted sheet, the musk of his sweat pungent in their small dorm. Low grunts accounted for the majority of the noise he made, but it was peppered by the occasional groan or unclear shout of words. However, ‘No,’ was always clear.

Draco hated it. 

📻  The Interview (T, 17.3k) by Cibee (Cibeeeee) @cibeewastaken

🎵 Song prompt: Just Say Yes - Snow Patrol

🎵 Summary: One interview had Draco realizing how naïve he was for thinking he deserved Harry. 

📻  Lookalike (M, 1.4k) by Zzzara @big-draco-energy

🎵 Song prompt: 'Lookalike' by Conan Gray 

🎵 Summary: When you look in his eyes, Do you think of mine? And when you look at that smile, Do I cross your mind? I know in your head You see me instead 'Cause he looks a lot like I did back then Baby, don't lie, He's just a lookalike... ©

📻  As Fascinating As a Slap Bracelet (T, 13.2k) by acupforslytherin @acupforslytherin 

🎵 Song prompt: Have It All - Jason Mraz

🎵 Summary: Who would have thought that a wacky little Muggle toy would lead to an unlikely friendship between Harry and Draco? Not Harry, certainly.

Who would have thought that this friendship would bloom into something more? Well, Ron, for one. 

📻  If Sex Is the Drug, Then What Is the Cost (E, 3.8k) by EvAEleanor @eva-eleanore

🎵 Song prompt: I Almost Told You That I Loved You - Papa Roach

🎵 Summary: For quite some time, Harry has been seeing Malfoy. Well... Actually, he's hired Malfoy, to keep him company, in his bedroom. It's only sex — honestly — and since Malfoy is the best, he's the only person Harry wants. That's all it is, right? 

📻  I Grow Fonder Every Day (M, 21.6k) by Drarrelie @drarrelie

🎵 Song prompt: One and Only by Adele

🎵 Summary: Draco still doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, sharing a flat in Muggle London with Harry Potter.

It’s all Draco’s ever wanted — more than he’d ever wished for. And if it entails suppressing his inconvenient feelings for the man, so what? He’s perfectly happy with his life as it is, perfectly content with just having Potter close and enjoying his company.

That is, until one Friday evening at the beginning of April when the end starts. 

📻  How Can I Live Without you? (G, 2.2k) by ununquadius @ununquadius 

🎵 Song prompt: "So Far Away", by Avenged Sevenfold

🎵 Summary: After Draco's death, Harry wonders how can he live without the one he loves when he's so far away.

📻  Following the Arrow to Your Heart (E, 10.9k) by goddessofthehearth 

🎵 Song prompt: Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran

🎵 Summary: After the war, Draco is recruited into the Department of Love (aka Cupid's Arrow). His job is to bring together witches and wizards whose magical signatures are only compatible with each others' (essentially soulmates). As they all learned during training, Cupids are chosen because they do not have soulmates.

Six years later, Draco's convinced himself that he's perfectly fine with not having a soulmate. But his latest client turns out to be Harry Potter, and he's forced to reconsider in light of his old feelings.

📻  cos I only need your name to call the reasons why I fought (T, 6.6k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky

🎵 Song prompt: War, by Poets of the Fall

🎵 Summary: Ron and Hermione leave the Horcrux hunt, leaving a hurt Harry behind.

But at least Draco is still there with him.

📻  Madness (M, 10k) by tigersilver 

🎵 Song prompt: House of Fun by Madness

🎵 Summary: A desperate search for contraception all around Diagon Alley.

📻  Between Myth and Man (E, 16.2k) by slytherco @slytherco 

🎵 Song prompt: Why'd you only call me when you're high? - Arctic Monkeys

🎵 Summary: Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning.

A story about the complexity of choices, repressed desires that come to the surface when we least expect them, and the utter hopelessness of truths built on a foundation of lies.

📻  stay awhile (stay here with me) (T, 3.1k) by panicparade @panicissharp​

🎵 Song prompt: I like me better - Lauv

🎵 Summary: "Then when?" Harry tries again. He's not sure if he really wants to see the photo or if he just wants to keep talking to Malfoy. This Malfoy, who is so different from what he was expecting. In his Muggle jeans and smartly pressed sweater, with an air of vulnerability around him that Harry isn't used to seeing, Malfoy looks approachable in a way he never has before.

Harry stops his fidgeting as Malfoy looks up to meet his eyes. Through the hum of the crowded pub, he has to strain a little to hear him. "Maybe," Malfoy starts, hesitating a little but never breaking eye contact, "one day?"

📻  All it needs is messing it up and stars (G, 5.9k) by a_reader_and_writer @harrypotterfanfictionwriter

🎵 Song prompt: Tongue Tied by Faber Drive

🎵 Summary: After the war all the Malfoy's came off with light sentences. Now during 8th year Draco is finally free to be himself and date his crush; Harry Potter. Or at least so he thought..

A letter from his father rips that happiness away.

But maybe in the end it will take just a bit of messing up and some stars to get that happiness back.

📻  I'm gonna let it happen (E, 12.3k) by tomoewantsdolls @tomoewantsdolls 

🎵 Song prompt: Florence + The Machine - Shake it out

🎵 Summary: And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat 'Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me Looking for heaven, for the devil in me Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me

📻  I feel it in my bones (M, 6.3k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky

🎵 Song prompt: Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

🎵 Summary: Harry’s heartbeat is loud in his ears as his heart pounds in his chest. His lungs burn as he pants for air. His legs are screaming in protests as he continues to push them to their limit, forcing himself to run ever faster.

📻  Born in the U.S.A. (M, 9k) by KittyCargo @kittycargo

🎵 Song prompt: I'm on Fire by Bruce Springsteen

🎵 Summary: “You need to come home, Draco.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just have an opportunity for you, and you need to come home to take it.”

When Draco's mother insists he comes home, he drags his feet and convinces his friends to take a road trip.

📻  just tell me when it's alright (E, 23k) by M0stlyVoid @bonesliketambourines

🎵 Song prompt: Teeth, Lady Gaga

🎵 Summary: Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

📻  The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth (T, 19.4k) by Cibee (Cibeeeee) @cibeewastaken

🎵 Song prompt: Cupid - Amy Winehouse 

🎵 Summary: Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship.

(An unnamed ginger bastard can be heard yelling from afar: “This is actually a detailed guide on how not to court someone!”)

But who cares about the opinions of redheads? Literally no one.

📻  What Will We Do With a Drunken Harry? (E, 4.9k) by Thunder_of_Dragons @thunder-of-dragons

🎵 Song prompt: "Drunken Sailor" by The Irish Rovers

🎵 Summary: A victorious Quidditch match, a claimed Quidditch Cup, and a wild House party can mean only one thing. Will the aftermath lead to one excruciating hangover in the morning, or will it perhaps lead to something more?

📻  Though Your World Is Changing, I Will Be The Same (E, 15.9k) by hephaestiions 

🎵 Song prompt: Slave To Love by Bryan Ferry 

🎵 Summary: “I shower after work,” Harry had told him once when Draco had asked what cologne had such longevity as to be effective after a full day of gruelling Auror work. 

“For me?” Draco had asked. Teased, just a little. There had been a smile lingering on the edges of his consciousness, threatening to traipse onto his mouth. 

“For Ginny,” Harry had said, voice flat. “She hates it when I come back sweaty and crackling with other people’s hexes. Did you know magic has a smell? I didn’t until she told me.”

–

It's all fun and games, till somebody falls in love. Given his luck, it's obviously Draco who has to go and do it.

📻  I Can't Help Falling in Love with You (NR, 4.8k) by readdreamwrite26 @readdreamwrite26

🎵 Song prompt: I can't help falling in love with you - Elvis Presley

🎵 Summary: Harry stood up and set his hand out to Draco. “Dance?” “I didn’t know you danced, Potter.” “Hm, I’ve danced a lot in my time," Harry replied smugly. “How do I know you won’t step on my feet?” “You don’t, but I think the risk will be worth it.”

📻  Searching For a Place to Hide (T, 12.5k) by Erin_Riwen @erin-riwen

🎵 Song prompt: Love Will Keep Us Alive - The Eagles

🎵 Summary: After the war, there were threats against the Malfoys. Needing them kept safe until the trials are over, the Ministry puts them in protective custody but a murder attempt proves there’s a Ministry leak. Desperate, the Ministry decides a safe house is best, but who to trust to keep it secret and keep them safe? Narcissa calls in a life debt, the Minster calls in a favour and Harry Potter wonders why his life continues to hate him. 

Along the way, the Malfoys learn how to be a family again, Harry learns that some things are not how he thought and maybe never were, and the touch-starved boys discover that they may be each other's forever answer.

📻  Isolated Thunderstorms and Scattered Showers (T, 21.3k) by triggerlil @triggerlil 

🎵 Song prompt: Iris - the GooGoo Dolls

🎵 Summary: Post-war, Harry needs space. Everything is too much all at once, and time and time again, he finds himself pulling the invisibility cloak over his head, just for a bit of peace.

Returning for eighth year is hard, especially when you're considered a war hero, and your name is Harry James Potter. It's just that things go a little wonky when Harry starts following Malfoy, and finds that he can't (or doesn't want to) stop.

📻  Kiss It Better (E, 1.5k) by articcat621 @articcat621

🎵 Song prompt: Kiss It Better by Rihanna

🎵 Summary: When Harry's injured, Draco knows there's no place he'd rather be than by his side.

📻  (shut up and) dance with me (T, 7.9k) by punk_rock_yuppie @punk-rock-yuppie

🎵 Song prompt: Shut Up and Dance - Walk the Moon

🎵 Summary: Four dances Harry and Draco share.

📻  In Love with the Ferret (E, 21.9k) by Pineau_noir @pineau-noir 

🎵 Song prompt: I'm Yours by Jason Mraz

🎵 Summary: Harry has never been the most observant bloke. Sometimes to the point of him not realising his feelings for a particular pointy, pale git. And it's not his fault if literally everyone else knows about said feelings except for Harry and the git in question. So it's really not his fault, when faced with the scope of his feelings, he suddenly has a hard time talking to one Draco Malfoy. Or looking him in the eye. Or not being a total weirdo around him.

There's nothing to do but take the advice of his friends and try to woo Draco over dinners with friends, Ministry cases, and an unfortunately named Italian restaurant.

Harry just can't stop the flutter in his chest when he sees Draco smile.

📻  Dance with me? (M, 8.2k) by Aylaar @accioxanxiety

🎵 Song prompt: I Wanna Dance With Somebody - Whitney Houston

🎵 Summary: Draco had given up on love, until one day sitting outside the usual gaudy cafe he frequented 'people watching' he spotted Harry Potter lurking, a suspicious Draco investigates and a series of events ensue.

📻  The Cupid Incident (E, 12.6k) by meandminniemcg @meandminniemcg 

🎵 Song prompt: Can' Get You out of My Head - Kylie Minogue

🎵 Summary: Draco gets into the way of a potions attack and can't get Potter out of his head.

📻  Carouse (E, 19.9k) by Drarryismymuse (Hatchersn) @drarryismymuse 

🎵 Song prompt: Dead by Madison Beer

🎵 Summary: Carouse (verb): To drink plentiful amounts of alcohol and enjoy oneself with others in a noisy, lively way.

Harry finds himself using alcohol in increasingly dangerous ways to cope with the stresses of life. When he is put on leave from work to sort out his issue, he instead falls head first into a lively club scene where he can drink and fuck his worries away. That is, until a certain blond from his past reappears and throws off his entire routine.

Massive well done to all these talented creators - you’ve made this fest utterly spectacular! Take a bow!!

🎙️ Don’t forget to check out the Playlists:

Youtube

Spotify (Provided by @eva-eleanore​ Thank  ypu so much!)

[coollyinterferes]

Character Interview || Repost, don't Reblog

NAME  :   Robert Edward Orville Speedwagon

NICKNAME  :  Boss, aniki, “bastard!”/"that son of a bitch!” (usually from rival gang members, so the insult varies sometimes lol), Rob (used by a few friends), derivatives of his last name −Speebs, Speeds, Speeb, Speedy, etc− but these he will only accept them from certain people, otherwise he will do his best not to cringe on the spot or will do it inwardly. Uncle Speedy and etc later on (as in once George and the rest of the children come into his life, more specifically~).

AGE  :   25 in the main verse (may vary depending on the verse)

SPECIES  :  Human/Stand user in the main/time-travel verse | Vampire in the vamp!verse | Werefox in the monster!verse

—— Personal! ♡

MORALITY  :      lawful   /   chaotic /   good   /   neutral   /   evil  /   true .

RELIGION  :   Non-practising catholic (was raised as Catholic, like most other Victorians, believes in God, but that’s pretty much about it)

SINS   :     greed   /   gluttony   /   sloth   /   lust   /   pride  /   envy   /   wrath  .

VIRTUES :     chastity   /   charity   /   diligence   /   humility   /   kindness   /  patience  / justice.

KNOWN LANGUAGES :   English is his first language. Conversational Spanish, Italian, French, Portuguese, German and some more. Some conversational Mandarin Chinese as well (this one thanks to Li −canonly known as Kenpo, his Ogre Street friend−) and bits of Irish (this one thanks to Tattoo, his other Ogre Street friend). He can read and understand some Japanese (kana and some okurigana/kanji) but can’t really speak or write it. Same case for some other languages that he can also recognize and more or less understand bits of them but can’t really speak them. As you probably guessed, he’s learned most of these through his many journeys around the world.

SECRETS  :  All of the stuff in regards to the stone mask and all the events and incidents that came out from that (it was stated that the only ones who know everything about it from start to end are Jonathan and Speedwagon, the others who might know a great deal of it would be Straizo and Master Tonpety). He also tries to keep a low profile in regards to his homosexuality whenever he’s out of the slums to save himself some trouble due to the stigma at the time and the potential legal consequences, going only for the gay codes of the time (long hair, cleanly shaven face, colorful accessories, etc) so I guess that could count? Other than that, and in the verses that it applies, his stand mayhaps?? That’s what allows him to leap through timelines in the time travel verses (it possesses other abilities and skills but, since Robert doesn’t even know about his stand’s existence yet, he hasn’t trained with it and thus he doesn’t know about any of it’s abilities, not even about the time travel oof).

—— Physical! ♡

BUILD :     scrawny   /   bony   /   slender   /   fit   /   athletic   /   curvy   /   herculean   /  pudgy  /   average   .

HEIGHT  :   5’11”, close to the 6’ mark (181 cms)

SCARS   /   BIRTHMARKS  :    The most recognizable one is the scar marring the left side of his face (going from the top of his nose to his jaw), but he has plenty more scattered all over his body, some more visible than others, some larger than others. Most of them come from fights and his general criminal lifestyle, some of them even come from some of the torture sessions he’s endured as part of that (so it isn’t surprising that they were either caused by knives, gunshots, burns, shards of glass and etc). Most of his scars are located on his chest and arms, some more on his hands/wrists and fingers (hands/wrists and fingers mainly from when he was learning to use his buzzsaw hat), though he has a few more on his legs/thighs, lower abdomen, and a couple more on his back. In the main verse (usually set in the late stages of PB), he will have a few more from the events in PB −burn scars on his hands from the fire at the Joestar mansion, one on his shoulder from the attack he received from Jack the Ripper, an ice burn across his abdomen from thawing Zeppeli’s arm, and a couple more and not so visible ones on his arms from minor injuries (cuts) he got while fighting and fending off zombies−. Most of the “PB scars” aren’t too visible thanks to Jonathan (he used his hamon to heal Speedwagon’s injuries shortly after).

ABILITIES   /   POWERS  :  He’s able to tell an evil person from a good one by their smell alone. He’s a resilient man and quite a strong one, too (stronger than the average guy, as he was shown killing zombies using his brute force only and a sledgehammer). He's good at hand to hand combat, he’s also good at using knives and guns, and at wrecking shit with a sledgehammer. I also hc that he's capable of creating veeeeeery small amounts of hamon (this as a result of Zepp's "accidental" slip) if he really puts his mind into it. Due to his current limitations with it, his hamon can’t be used for fighting, but it does enhance his healing process, making it slightly faster than that of an average human (with some proper training, chances are he might be able to do more with it, tho). His stand, in the verses where he has it, can perform time travel, which happens at random at first (he gradually gains control on his stand once he learns about it and starts training with it). Due to stands being a reflection of sorts of their user and their fighting spirit, and as an extension of Robert’s own hamon healing abilities, his stand also possesses healing abilities that can be used both on himself and on others, though this requires some training prior, as the healing relies entirely on Speedwagon’s own life force and can be fatal for him if used carelessly at first (once properly trained, it won’t represent a real danger for him to use). Much like Robert himself, his stand is also capable of packing some punches and causing serious damage on it’s opponent despite his stand being more of a “support” stand rather than a fully combat based one.

RESTRICTIONS  :  He's mostly a regular human in the main verse, so he’s at a great disadvantage against stronger supernatural beings such as vampires and pillarmen, for example. As stated above, the amounts of hamon he can currently create are small and, thus are difficult −almost impossible− to use for combat (again, this can change if he gets some proper training). His lack of knowledge on his stand’s existence can also count as a restriction for the time being, as he doesn’t know about it or it’s abilities and, thus, can’t use it at his will for now (it operates mostly in an “unconscious” level at first, usually after getting triggered). He also tends to wear his heart in his sleeve when it comes to the few people he truly holds dear and considers special to him, so that can be used against him if he’s not careful enough.

—— Likes / Scents! ♡

FOOD  :    He isn’t really picky with food since he grew up in absolute poverty and sometimes went for days without a single bite of food or eating stale (sometimes even moldy) food so like… he’s cool with pretty much anything nowadays. He’s also an adventurous man, so he’s always open to trying new and even “exotic” stuff. Other than that, pastries are one of his top fave things ever (creamy ones mainly but not exclusively).

DRINK  :   Tea −citrusy/fresh types mainly like lemongrass, same with berry teas−. He doesn’t mind sweeter teas but, since he usually has them with the pastries, he prefers something more “sour” to balance things out. He also likes coffee, liking it strong, kind of sweet, and hot (just how he likes his men lol). As for alcoholic drinks, he’s all for beer and gin. He also enjoys some of the sweeter ‘posh’ wines Jonathan normally has at his home.

PIZZA TOPPING  :  As far as I know, pizza toppings weren’t as creative and “crazy” in the 19th century as they have been over the last few decades, so he’s only used to more ‘traditional’ stuff like variants of Pizza Margherita, for example. However, in the time travel verses/modern!AUs he will definitely try all kinds of pizza toppings (yes, this includes pineapple pizza as well as entirely sweet pizza toppings and so on) and actually likes some of them.

COLOUR  :    Purple (shades like those of his waistcoats i.e.), pink, greeeeeeenvert, black.

MUSIC GENRE  :    More than a genre itself, he enjoys and appreciates music that can make him feel something. Toss some pub songs there for obvious reasons lol.

BOOK GENRE  :     General fiction mostly. He also enjoys reading some romance novels every now and then whenever he gets the chance to get his hands on a gay romance one, either featuring two males or two females (he doesn’t find the appeal in “traditional” ones for a variety of reasons).

MOVIE GENRE  :    Non-applicable in the main verse. Time travel verses −if he even gets the chance to watch a movie− and even in a modern!AU, his go to genres would probs be similar to his book genres, lol, just add some comedy there but like, not the ‘cheapest’ and cringey kind of comedy.

SEASON  :     Autumn and Winter (harsh winters are a pain in the ass in Ogre Street, but he can handle them fairly well overall)

CURSE WORD :   Fuck / Shit / Bloody and variants of it (like Bloody Hell) / Arsehole / Wanker / Damnit / Bollocks, Ballocks and all of it’s variants / Bastard / Motherfucker / Zounderkite (victorian for “idiot” but with even harsher and ruder connotations than just using “idiot” lol) / Beardsplitter (one of the victorian words for “penis” xd). There are plenty, plenty, more but those are the ones I can think of rn. He comes from the darkest pits of the slums after all, so yeah... Lots of cussing can be expected.

SCENT ( S )  :    Sweet and masculine musky scent, mainly, with an occasional subtle note of gunpowder and/or tobacco depending on whatever tf he’s been doing. Maybe a vague note of blood if he just got out of a fight. Some vague vanilla too but that one only around the time when he lands a temporary job in a bakery in London.

—— Fun Facts! ♡

BOTTOM OR TOP  :   Top leaning verse. He only bottoms occasionally for serious/long term boyfriends that he genuinely trusts, partly due to how being a bottom was (wrongly) perceived as being submissive by most people, and how dangerous being seen as such can be in a place like Ogre Street if the word gets out (not to mention that there’s been people there who have given him shit just for being gay), and partly because he also prefers to top and likes it better, lol.

SINGS IN THE SHOWER  :   Yeah. He started doing it as a child as a way to keep his mind distracted from how cold as fuck the water he’d wash himself with was (he usually bathed in rivers or washed himself with buckets of water some maid forgot outside of a household and that he managed to steal). He’s become a lot more used to cold baths over the years so a distraction is not necessary anymore, however, he still sings or hums sometimes whenever he has a song stuck in his head or if he’s particularly happy about something (this continues later on in life as well,even after cold baths are no longer part of his life, so it’s a habit that he never actually leaves).

LIKES PUNS  :    He loves them! Lame ones, good ones, cheesy ones, silly ones, witty ones, dirty/vulgar ones, etc. Heck, even dad jokes can be found in his repertoire! Chances are that, if you come to him with a pun or joke, he will give you one or two (maybe even more) in return.

------------------------------

Tagged by: @le-princesse-chevalier​​ (( thank you so much for the tag!!! ♡♡ ))

Tagging: @historias-multorum @jojoingjoseph @gazelessmenagerie @usfv @featherchan @kindersturm @iiguess @storiedocs @quirofiliac @rotrioted @breatheflcra @emcraldsxchcrrics @arrhythmiiia @mechahero @voltagecrow @promiseled @joesrparchive (tagged your main but the tag applies to any and all of your muses that you might want to fill this for >:D) @rzrbite​ @mistymiddiana (if you’re up for it) & also tagging anyone and everyone who wants to give this a shot! Just take it and say i tagged you~ Multis and peeps with 2+ muses, feel free to do this for as many of your muses as you wish!

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter One

Life has been running a mile a minute and I feel like it’s been a century since I’ve contributed to ~Outlander fandom/fic discourse~. So! To get back into the swing of things, I’m going to re-post an old AU of mine: Our Story (shout out to @gotham-ruaidh​ for giving me the courage).

I’ve chosen this one because A) I’m proud of it; it’s the only multi-chapter fic I’ve ever finished, but also B) it’s basically a timeline of my first year in NYC, which will (maybe?) make for some interesting commentary. I’ll post a chapter every other day and include my self-indulgent author notes at the bottom (songs, anecdotes, whatever dumb shit I come up with).

Yes, you can read the entire fic on Ao3 . . . but what’s the fun in that? ;)

Chapter 1

[December 24th, 1989]

It is the beginning of their story, the first time Jamie sees her. The dividing line between 'what was' and 'what would be.' The setting is a Christmas party: an Edinburgh flat, roaring on the cusp of a new decade. Champagne bubbles float in flutes and greetings. 

The players are just two university students, dancing across a stage of shaggy green carpet. Garlands of tinsel trip their feet.

And the opening scene? Well. It goes something like this:

She is wearing a holiday sweater, a confection of silver bells and sequined penguins. It is the hard-won earnings of an hour’s wade through mothballs, she says, of a knee-deep dive in a charity shop bargain bin. All of this she relays to Jamie with a smirk, a precocious, all-knowing smile that he will come to know so well.

The lights dim, and her eyes flicker. Lit coals in the flat’s half-dark. She smells of fresh rain, of flowers just beginning to open, and the scent forms a sweet, perceptible weight in the air. It settles on him, around him, when she leans forward, straining to hear his stuttered—

“Hello,” Jamie says, or tries to. He forgets his vowels and it comes as, “Hlllll?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

Claire starts when his hand takes hers, crunches it firmly inside his palm. For Claire, this moment will never lose its clarity, and in the years that follow she will argue that this is where their story begins: nestled in the slight curl of Jamie’s lips; his voice, as smooth as the whisky he offers to pour her; another ugly sweater, this one boasting a lager-stained Santa and a hem of unraveling wool. The red string hangs there for her to tug and close the gulf between them, and she does. Twenty one (him) and twenty two (her) years of strangerhood reduced to nothing—and then, so suddenly, transformed into knowing.

They make small talk in the corner, mentioning the weather (“seasonably cold”) and her biology exam (“after break”). Eventually Claire asks, “Do you know anyone here?”, and bracketed inside this question is her secret hope that he does not. She wants to believe that Jamie is on her side, that it is only the two of them (it has only ever been the two of them) against the world. She is so used to feeling alone in crowds—but here! Oh, but here in the rainbow glow of tree lights, she feels a part of Something. She holds onto it, wishing her hand was as big as his so that his curling lips and his whisky voice would never seep through her fingers.

“Dinna ken anyone,” Jamie confirms, “though I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”

He inclines his head towards the mass of bodies, all gyrating in a singular, chaotic wave. Music plays in the background, oppressive and electronic, as a third year belts Bowie between tokes. Jamie lets it fade away, forgets it all—the noise, how to blink, how to breathe. Forgets everything except her.

Claire wrinkles her nose.

“The problem with these people is that they think they’re interesting.” She is yelling into his ear but even so, it seems strangely intimate. Every word exchanged is a secret between them, one they tuck inside their pockets, will place under their pillows when they lay their heads to sleep. “But they aren’t. Not even remotely!”

“Weel, fortunately you’ve met me now.”

“Mmm. But are you truly interesting or only remotely?”

“That’s for you to decide, lass. You being the expert on such things.”

Claire grins at the floor. “You haven’t even told me your name, y’know.”

“James Fraser,” he says, all too quickly, and he’s unreasonably embarrassed. James, he thinks. How many ‘James’ were in this very room, wearing equally hideous and soiled sweaters? How many ‘James’ had she met in Scotland? Would she even remember him, one of 337 (to be precise), after this night? (She would, of course. During her biology exam, she will think of James Fraser and leave fifteen questions blank. She will get a C—a grade as average as his name.)

“But you can call me Jamie,” he adds over the roar.

“I’m Claire Beauchamp. Just plain Claire Beauchamp!”

And Jamie laughs—a beautiful laugh, the best laugh, a laugh Claire will spend the rest of her life wanting to hear (she will have to work harder on certain days).

“If I call ye anything, it’ll be ‘Sassenach’. Whereabouts in England are ye from?”

And Claire smiles—a beautiful smile, the best smile, a smile Jamie will spend the rest of his life trying to earn (finding success and failure in turns).

“Oxford by birth,” Claire says. “But from nowhere, really.”

She pauses, hearing the third-year shout, “Bowie, man! Greatest artist of all time!” and swears the kid is wrong. It’s God who was the greatest artist, and this six-foot deity with his lager-stained knit was his chef d’ouevre.

“Do you want to make this night interesting, Jamie?”

“Remotely interesting?”

“More than remotely.”

“That depends. What d’ye have in mind?”

Claire reaches for his hand, and he gives it to her. Jamie squeezes; she squeezes back. She leads him through the throng. He follows, licking his lips and at her heels.

(Who knew it could ever be this easy? Falling in love.)

Note: I started this fic with a variation of the last line (“Who knew how easy it was to fall in love?”) and worked my way backwards. I only had a vague idea of what I wanted to write: a cross between Lauren Groff’s Fates and Furies, David Nicholls’ One Day, and the movie Blue Jay. Ah, ambition! I ultimately veered away from the last one, but leaned very heavily on Fates and Furies (more on that later) and stuck to One Day’s idea of tracking a relationship over the course of multiple decades. I thought I could do this in a couple of chapters, but after I wrote this opener—in the middle of the night; anxious as fuck because I was a one week away from moving to New York (also more on that later)—I chucked my original five-chapter outline. Still had no idea where I was going with it though.

In retrospect, I like this chapter as a whole, although I realize Jamie/Claire sound like pretentious snobs (the result of my Fates and Furies obsession!) and wish I carried the red string image throughout the rest of the story.

[yunhos-treasure]

𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐲 ☆ﾐ 𝐣𝐰𝐲

༄𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Wooyoung is so excited to have a day off with his friends and fellow ATEEZ groupmates and does his best to cook something yummy for a Sunday picnic, and everything is so perfect and tasty that it is to die for!

 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: slice of life, fluff and a little surprise at the end.

 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1,9k

 [𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔]: so... there's something like a plot twist, hehe ٩ (ᐛ) و I'm sorry I can't put it on the tags

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if I made some mistakes, I'm still learning.

༺❀༻

For Wooyoung today is definitely a wonderful and beautifully sunny day, perfect to have the best picnic of his life. Anyone who looked at the young man would instantly know that he was more than ecstatic with the big and genuine smile spread across his pretty face.

It was eight in the morning and the black-haired boy was in the kitchen listening to music with his headphones while he happily cooked for himself and his friends.

The sun was streaming in through the window and the rays of it made the young man's dark hair appear to have reddish tones giving it an ethereal touch.

Everyone in the apartment were asleep, and all that could be heard was the sound of cabinet doors and countertop drawers opening along with the the soft humming to the rhythm of the music coming from the kitchen.

Wooyoung made sandwiches, prepared orange juice and lemonade in cute glass bottles, and also made cupcakes with strawberries and kiwis with cream for dessert, as well as put fruits cut into animal shapes in small tuppers.

As he thought about what might be missing for the picnic, he realized that he didn't know where the baskets and blankets were even though Seonghwa had packed the baskets yesterday and told him at least three times where he had kept them, but Wooyoung was too busy playing with San that all he did was say “Yes, yes, I know! You don't have to say it so many times, I'm not going to forget it.”, without really listening to what the older man had said.

And there he was, trying to remember what the blonde told him without succeeding so he started looking all over the place.

“Basket, basket.... Where are you, basket?” He called out as if the basket was a puppy that could run to him.

After several unsuccessful attempts, he thought about talking to Seonghwa but the fear that Hongjoong would scold him for being so careless made him retract and decided to go back to looking in the first places where he had looked at the beginning: because for some unknown reason things are always in the first place they seemed not to be.

And he was right. With a victorious smile he took the baskets and ran to put them on the table to start packing the food and drinks, then grabbed eight glasses and put them away along with a couple of pastel napkins.

With excitement he went to his room to change his clothes and take the opportunity to wake up San and Jongho, who seemed reluctant to get up, mainly San who hugged his Shiber plushie tighter. The raven-haired boy smirked and uncovered him, then grabbed the other boy by the ankles to drag him off the bed, but the latter grabbed onto the bed as hard as he could while he screamed in a high-pitched voice.

“Let me and my son Shiber sleep in peace!”

But Wooyoung didn't care and while he laughed in an outrageously way he kept pulling him. Jongho, who shared a room with those two got up disheveled and in a bad mood. All the noise made it impossible for him to stay more time in that room and before leaving he let out a groan of annoyance as he went to the bathroom.

“Why do I feel like I'm the oldest in this place?”  

Due to the noise, the others began to wake up, but not before cursing Wooyoung and San mentally, like every day.

Little by little the place began to fill with the noise of the voices of the other boys, and the doors of their rooms opening and closing.

San struggled to get up, grabbed a pillow and started hitting Wooyoung on the head while the shorter one laughed like a maniac, his laughter was contagious and the pink haired boy started laughing too.

Hongjoong walked into the room with his face half pale and his hands slightly shaking, he looked at the two boys and told them to hurry up and go to the living room.

San and Wooyoung looked at each other with concern before getting done, and heading to the room where the others were already, waiting for Jongho to come out of the bathroom so they could enter and wash.

In the living room Hongjoong and Seonghwa were talking in whispers in the corner, their expressions looked worried while Mingi and Yunho commented on what they would do at night when they returned home and Yeosang looked at them with an empty expression, it was Sunday and definitely too early in the morning to join an actual conversation, though it's not like he's very talkative after all.

Jongho came out of the bathroom and went to look for something in the living room, where he accidentally overheard a bit of the conversation of the older boys in the group.

“[...] and that's why I'm telling you not to worry, Hongjoong. Today will be a great day, it is impossible for a bad dream to come true and there is no point in staying locked up at home. So coming with us to a picnic will not kill you.” half consoled and half joked the older.

The leader just nodded and agreed, laughing a little and realizing that in reality the situation was absurd, dreams are only dreams and nothing else, no matter how real they may seem.

He just needs to go out and clear himself up a bit and it would be much better if it's with the people he cares the most, so he's more than determined to go out thanks to Seonghwa's persuasion.

The youngest continued on his way to his room to change his clothes without giving much thought.

The other boys ran to the bathroom, and then to their rooms to put on clothes suitable for the day.  When everyone was ready, San asked Hongjoong what was wrong with him because he was still worried because the older one had looked very strange today when he went to talk to them, and he only answered that he had slept very little and had a nightmare, and that he only needed a little air and he would feel better already, which calmed everyone present who had also noticed Hongjoong's state but hadn't said anything before.

───── ❀ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀ ─────

The trip was full of laughter, music and talk, it really was a very beautiful day and it was getting better and better, all the unnecessary worries of the morning and days gone by were left behind, without leaving room for anxiety or stress. This break was exactly what they needed and they knew it.

The weather was sunny but it wasn't hot at all, everyone were wearing light clothes without being so summery because every so often a small cold wind ran that gave you chills, and with the warmth of the sun's rays they were the perfect contrast wich feels like a good sensation against the skin.

They arrived at the planned place and got out of the van, while they stretched they observed the beauty of Mother Nature that surrounded them and the peace that only she can transmit.

It looked like a scene out of a Studio Ghibli movie with soft colored flowers, the trees gave beautiful shadows perfect to sit under them and the wind swayed the grasses from time to time but without being annoying. There was also a small stream with transparent cold water and you could heard the sound of the water running and hitting the stones at the same time that you could also hear the songs of birds, cicadas and some frogs. It was fresh and peaceful.

Wooyoung threw himself on the grass and started rolling followed by a very excited Yunho, Mingi, and San. Seonghwa and Yeosang were looking at them with expressions of 'I'm judging you intensely', but they secretly wished to do the same.

Jongho and Hongjoong looked for the baskets and blankets and then began to set up the picnic and take photos as if they were in an impromptu photoshoot to save memories and upload a couple to Twitter for their beloved Atinys, to which the other boys also joined and took photos with them. Some turned out fine and others... well, some were blurry or someone would always appear in the back with a derp expression causing the photos to be ruined, but it was funny so no one complained and they just continued to enjoy each other's company.

“We should have more days like this.” Mingi said with a huge and sweet smile as he collected flowers and put them in his hair to take pictures. Everyone agreed with what the tall boy had said and Yunho imitated his friend by putting flowers in his hair as well and they both challenged the other to a duel over who would get the most likes on his posts.

“Guys ... I spent a lot of time preparing the food, why don't we start eating at once?”

An annoyed Wooyoung said while taking a sandwich and starting to eat, his friends laughed and ate with him. All the food tasted very good and they all thanked the boy for putting so much effort into this day and taking care of them.

“Why don't we toast Wooyoung's delicious food and our friendship?” San suggested, breadcrumbs on his cheeks that made him look adorable.

Yeosang took the glasses that were still stored in the basket, served them all lemonade and orange juice, and smiled as he said playfully.

“Everyone, consider this an act of charity on my behalf”

The other members started saying things to him and he just laughed as he raised his glass and toasted the others.

No one noticed how Wooyoung did not even take a sip of the juice and simply put it on the blanket on the ground, while looking at the sky, it was very clear and beautiful, everything was so calm and the wind began to sway the leaves of the tree over his head causing the sun to hit his face, when he looked down at the ground his friends looked strange.

The black-haired man looked at them more closely and their pupils were excessively dilated. Hongjoong was choking and struggling for air while a worried Seonghwa tried to help him but felt nauseous and with drowsy legs he tried to run to vomit, Jongho was confused and his brain couldn't process anything that was happening around him, Yunho had a hand pressed on his heart which was beating very fast while Mingi was lying on the ground motionless, not even breathing and San was trying to wake up Mingi with a dry mouth and a really bad bellyache.

Yeosang looked at Wooyoung, who was perfectly fine, as he tried to speak.

“Woo.... Wo.... Young... What... did you do to us?”

But he never got an answer before his joints completely stop working and he drops with a dry sound just like his other friends.

The black-haired boy took a cupcake and calmly ate it, ignoring the seven lifeless bodies of his friends because for Wooyoung today is definitely a wonderful and beautifully sunny day, perfect to have the best picnic of his life. Anyone who looked at the young man would instantly know that he was more than ecstatic with the big and genuine smile spread across his pretty face.

[stylesnews]

If your quarantine has been anything like mine, Harry Styles content has been the only thing getting you through. At the beginning of the national lockdown, he created a line of shirts and donated the proceeds to coronavirus charities. And last month, he showed solidarity with the Black Lives Matter protests by marching in L.A. and posting about the cause on Instagram. Even more recently, he recorded a sleep story for the Calm app because his fans had been begging for one for so long. Basically, he's been doing what he can during this crazy time, and it's a delight to see.

But back on May 18 (approximately two centuries ago ago), when the sexy and fruit-filled “Watermelon Sugar” music video dropped, Twitter rightfully lost its collective mind. Watching the video was an ~experience~, and it made me wonder what it was like being in it. You know, feeding Harry watermelon, running in the ocean with him, and cracking jokes as the sun set. The video dropped during a time when people were supposed to be avoiding any personal contact. Watching Harry and all the other people in the video rolling around with each other felt almost voyeuristic, and it made me miss living in a time even just a few months ago when touching other people wasn't so scary.

I hadn't stopped thinking about the video in the weeks since, so I decided to do some digging. For your reading pleasure, I talked to five models about the juicy (heh, get it?) details of being in the video.

Most of us scroll through the ’gram to see pics of Harry, but these ladies’ feeds landed them the gig. After putting out a call, the casting director scouted every model on Insta, sending them DMs if they thought they’d be a good fit. Many of them didn't even know the shoot was with Harry at first, only finding out it was him the literal night beforehand.

"I was immediately down to do it when I found out was him," model Elizabeth Tyson says.

Unlike us normal people, these girls balance their day jobs with, you know, spending time with Harry Styles. “I actually didn't even ask my boss if I was going to get [the day] off [for the shoot],” laughs model Mercy Odima, who is also a nanny. “I just replied, and I was like, ‘Yeah. I will be there.’”

That was back in January, and the girls had to keep their mouths shut for literal months until the video premiered on May 18. Can you imagine not being able to tell a single soul about the way Harry suggestively eats a watermelon slice?

By the end of the day, after countless shots where models were not-so-subtly licking watermelon slices and shoving their face (and Harry's) with the very-dense fruit, these ladies could 100 percent live without the watermelon sugar high. “We were like, ‘I can never eat a watermelon ever again!’—we were all sticky, it was dripping,” says Elizabeth. “They must have gone through a hundred watermelons for that shoot.”

And not all of it was so sweet: “I said something like, ‘Did you know that watermelon is actually kind of bad for you if you eat a lot of it? It’s bad for your digestive system,’” Maris says she told Harry. “He was like, ‘Oh, really? I’ve never heard that before.’”

Looking sexy while you feel like Bloat City is a challenge, to be sure. “The last part was us running up and down the beach at sunset,” Maris says. “I had just eaten probably a whole watermelon at that point. I was just praying it didn't come across—I just felt so uncomfortable.”

If it looks like the video is just a massive group hang with friends rolling around on the sand and making orgasmic faces into the camera, that’s because it basically was. “Everything was genuine,” Ephrata says. “They weren't like ‘now laugh’ or ‘now go crazy.' A lot of our scenes are actually us talking.”

Other scenes, though, had more direction. “There was a moment where the directors were like, ‘Okay, we want it to be kind of like an LSD trip,’” Maris laughs. We'll let you try to figure out which scene that is, because, TBH, it could have been any of them.

Overall, all the models agreed it was an incredibly chill experience. “It was probably one of the most natural shoots I've ever been on,” model Aalany McMahan says.

As if there weren’t enough about Harry Styles to fawn over, he also has top-notch nail polish game, as many people know. He ended up matching with one of the models on the set and it became an inside joke.

“Me and him literally had the same polish on,” Ephrata remembers. “We started laughing, and he was like, ‘I think yours is more like a coral.’” Before long, it became an on-set debate: “Everybody was trying to decide what color our nails were,” she laughs.

ICYMI, Harry was recently knighted a “consent king” for asking before he touched Ephrata’s hair. “[The directors] were like ‘You can play with her hair!’ And then he was like, ‘Wait wait wait, are you even cool with that? Is that okay? Are you comfortable with that?’” she remembers.

It meant a lot to her that he took that second to check in (and she later asked him if it was okay to kiss him on the cheek). “That was a moment on set where I was taken aback for just a second, and was like, ‘Wow, he really cares if I’m comfortable. He cares if the other models are comfortable,’” she says.

It goes without saying that a Harry Styles music video is guaranteed to be flirty. I mean, this shoot required the models to lay all over Harry, rest their heads on his shoulders, sexily feed him, etc. Those vibes didn’t stop when the cameras did.

During breaks in shooting, Harry—ever the gentleman—asked the group of models where they were all from. Maris said Wisconsin, which piqued Harry’s attention. “He goes, in his very British accent, ‘Oh, you’re from Wisconsin? Are you a Packers fan?’” she laughs. “I was like, ‘Yes, duh, I’m a Packers fan!’”

Later, as the sun went down on the Malibu beach, Maris tried (unsuccessfully) to hide how cold she was in her bikini. It was January, remember? “In between takes, he kept asking me if I was okay, cause I was shivering,” she reveals. “He was making jokes, like, ‘Oh, you're from Wisconsin, you should be able to deal with this!”

But even for a music video for a song is probably definitely about oral sex, it only went so far as flirting. “There was a group of us who were trying to get him to go out to dinner, but he had plans with someone else,” Maris says. Have fun spiraling while trying to figure out who that someone might be!

Considering his entire brand is "treat people with kindness," it's no surprise Harry was nice on set. That energy started right at the beginning of the shoot. “He was nice enough to come and say 'hi' to us even before we started shooting,” Ephrata recalls. “He came and shook everybody's hand and gave us hugs and was like, ‘Hi, I'm Harry,’ and I was like, ‘Yeah, I know.’”

Throughout the shoot, Elizabeth says he would have conversations, ask questions, and joke around with the models. “Most people, when they hit cut, they just sit there quietly, they don’t interact with you, but he definitely did,” she says. “He’s so laid back. He’s so funny, sweet—he has a personality.”

Many of the models expressed that it was this experience that made them full-fledged stans: “After working with him, I was definitely a bigger fan,” Ephtata says. Welcome to the club, ladies!

[secondhandnewsradio]

SHN INTERVIEW: Julianna Joy

by Claire Silverman

Julianna Joy is an 18-year-old singer/songwriter from the Chicago area determined to redefine pop music. Julianna has been quietly building a passionate fan base following the release of her debut EP, “Cherries,” an 80s-inspired journey of color and emotion fully representing Julianna’s synesthesia in red, purple, and hot pink.

CS: Hi Julianna! Thanks for joining me to chat a bit about your music. I love playing your songs on SHN shows. You have a really wonderful bright sound.

JJ: Thank you!!

CS: You have a new song coming out on December 18th, “Seventeen” What can you tell me about this new song?

JJ: Seventeen is a song I wrote when I was 16. I wrote it at my job over the summer before my junior year of high school about an unrequited love I was fighting for. Very melodramatic.

CS: Your recent single “Orange” is a collaboration with ARIZA, how did this collab come about?

JJ: It came about in like March of this year. Daniela Mendez from Big Deal set me up with a session with Juan Ariza because she thought we would work really well together. She was 100% correct because we wrote Orange the first time we ever met each other. Ariza is the coolest dude on the planet, hands down.

CS: What was the writing/production process like in the times of COVID?

JJ: We actually wrote Orange the week before Los Angeles shut down! So it wasn’t distanced or worrisome at all. We had finished like 90% of the production by the time we finished that day. When we went to finish it, we just hopped onto a zoom call and an audio movers link and finished the song in like an hour. COVID has made things hard of course, but not impossible!!

CS: I want to talk about your first EP, Cherries. I absolutely love it. You have this wonderful balance of sweetness and teenage angst.

JJ: Thank you!

CS: What was it like writing, recording and releasing the EP?

JJ: Cherries was the first ever project I had done with a real professional established musician!

CS: How did the EP all come together?

JJ: I met with the VP of Big Deal Music (now Hipgnosis Song Group), Jamie Cerreta, and he mentioned that he would love to set up sessions for me. A couple of emails and direct messages later, I was in Dylan Gardner’s studio on my 17th birthday recording Nevermind! It was the first song we started. Jamie loved the song and asked for a whole EP, and so I lived in LA over the summer in 2019 and recorded the full EP in a week!!

CS: That's quite a 17th birthday!

JJ: It was the craziest birthday ever! This project has brought so much into my life, and Dylan is one of the best musicians I know.

CS: Do you have a favorite song on the EP?

JJ: Right now it’s probably Carbon Copies!!

CS: I'm actually listening to Carbon Copies right now! My favorite is probably “Cherry Bomb,” I’m absolutely obsessed with it. What inspired that song?

JJ: The inspiration for Cherry Bomb is kinda funny. I had a crush on my best friend in high school and she had a girlfriend who was in college, so I basically had to bottle all these emotions because I didn't want to ruin their relationship. I put all of that energy into Cherry Bomb, which just explains what I thought would happen if she and I did anything together!

CS: I also want to ask you about your song “Poseidon.” It's a bit different from the other songs on the EP. What prompted you to write that song?

JJ: Poseidon was the first song I wrote for the EP! That song was written around the same time as Seventeen actually. I wrote it because I was in love with someone from another state who wasn’t willing to try to figure things out. It's one of the saddest songs I’ve ever written.

CS: What first got you interested in music?

JJ: Taylor Swift! I wanted to be just like her when I was little. I asked for guitars and wrote all of my songs just like hers when I was just starting out.

CS: Who are your musical inspirations?

JJ: I love Lorde, Queen, The Japanese House, The 1975, Charli XCX, and so many more. My main inspiration lately has been Pink Floyd and Declan Mckenna!

CS: Has your relationship with music evolved as you’ve started putting out your own music?

JJ: Yes! I honestly stopped being super snobby with my music taste. I know that sounds funny but I realized the best kind of music is the music that makes you feel anything at all. It doesn’t matter how complex it is, and stuff like that has made it feel more alive to me. I stopped caring about it and now I listen to bubblegum pop and EDM and all the genres some people hate.

CS: What are your plans for the future?

JJ: I want to release more music, go on tours, work with charities and foundations, and hopefully become an established musician. That’s the dream!

CS: Other than “Seventeen” do you have any new projects or songs we can look forward to in the new year?

JJ: You can bet on it!!!

CS: What have been your favorite songs to listen to recently?

JJ: I'm honestly listening to the Victorious soundtrack a lot. I really really love “Freak The Freak Out.”

CS: Thanks for taking the time for this interview! I;m looking forward to listening to Seventeen on December 18th!

JJ: I’m so excited for you to hear it!!

You can listen to “Seventeen” by Julianna Joy, out on all music platforms on December 18th.

Follow Julianna:

Instagram @juliannajoy69

Twitter @juliannajoy69

Tumblr @juliannajoy69

Tik Tok @juliannajoy69

Spotify: Julianna Joy

Originally published on Instagram @shnradio on December 15, 2020

[equalseleventhirds]

if you want to talk about hades town you can do so on this because i am very much interested in your thoughts about it!

fdsfjdskfds oh anon i am at Work and when i get out of work i will be Homework but......... listen. listen.

(ok a lot of this i’ve already rambled abt in my hadestown tag but. BUT). i got into hadestown pre-broadway, which means i listened to the original cast recording from 2017 a BUNCH. and while i adore both version, there were... changes. which i feel did orpheus a disservice, and the overarching plot a disservice, but in some ways treated eurydice better by filling her out more and making her more of a revolutionary. 

anyway, i defos don’t have time for a full song-by-song comparison, and also some of the songs available for the broadway version never made it onto the release of the 2017 version, not bcos they weren’t in the show, just bcos.... idk they weren’t released? weren’t recorded? i do not pretend to know the inner workings of the music industry.

BUT of note: the major changes to epic ii. in the original, orpheus was mocking of hades (’king of a kingdom of dirt’ yo), while in the broadway version, orpheus is just singing abt hades and persephone’s history. epic iii also removes that like, ‘a king who loves everythign like a hammer loves the nail’ and ‘he comes down heavy and hard on us’, so it’s MUCH less about the workers’ resentment of hades and just. about hades and persephone.

btw fuckin miss me with that narrative abt orpheus solving global warming by reminding the ruling class that they’re in love with each other? like, i’m sure that’s more appealing to ur standard can-afford-broadway audience, and as a LOVE story it’s cool, but. just not a good lesson actually. 

also ‘living it up on top’ completely cuts out his ‘why would a man of his own free will go to work all day in the mine and the mill’ which is, y’know, callous when considering the people (like, later, eurydice) driven to work for hades, but is TARGETED at hades, who for real does not NEED to work the way he does. miss that....

we also, throughout the broadway version, get a LOT of hermes speaking for orpheus. in the original, ‘come home with me’ is orpheus convincing eurydice, while the broadway version has hermes telling her that orpheus will make her feel alive. ‘living it up on top’ also changes from persephone speaking directly to orpheus and letting him take up the ‘bless this round’ bit, to having hermes volunteer him. blah blah ‘under my wing’ blah, but having a god (again, member of the ruling class, even if this one’s helpful) speak for him? when we have a version where he speaks for himself? come ON. i am not a fan of orpheus being made helpless! let him make his decisions! let his voice be one of persuasion even BEFORE he goes to the underworld!

(this also ties into my personal take that as a demigod, the son of a muse--and you know how those muses are--orpheus’ carelessness is what originally loses him eurydice. he does not care about eating through the winter, he’s never had to worry about that bcos hermes looks after him, while eurydice has had a harsh life and knows they DO need to worry. art is all well and good, but it is also important to care for the people in your life. it’s later, when orpheus loses eurydice and must venture into the harshness of the underworld, meets the workers/the wall and has to find SOLIDARITY with them in order to stand up to hades, that he finally recognizes the value of working with others to create a better life for all. in this essay i)

i also rly miss the original ‘promises’ bcos like, while orpheus & eurydice as always-in-love is sweet, i really enjoyed the fighty version where they are both resentful & angry abt broken promises, and both acknowledge that what they originally claimed to want from the other & give to one another was both unrealistic and not what they actually wanted, eventually coming to a conclusion that was more based on reality. like. communication resulting in a healthier relationship after dealing with unrealistic expectations.... we stan.

now that i’ve gone over how i think the original was better, i did still LIKE the broadway version, and there were some improvements! most notable, eurydice’s stronger role as like, an active revolutionary (or attempted one, anyway) rather than a more passive rescue.

i genuinely adored the change of ‘anyway the wind blows’ from an intro song by the fates to eurydice singing (with the fates backing her up/singing in her ear), bcos it sets up eurydice as an average sufferer of the world the gods made, and lets us hear it in her voice, her experience, and her opinions. she is the one to say weather ain’t the way it was before--and when we later get persephone telling us ‘some might say the weather ain’t the way it used to be’, she’s dismissing eurydice’s suffering (and the suffering of all humans), bcos she’s more concerned with her own issues with hades than with how she’s impacted the world.

(also the changes made had some Interesting Implications abt persephone’s complicity in that whole ‘keep your head low’ thing, that i think is p cool, actually? like afaik the 2017 version didn’t have ‘no spring/no fall’ going on, so the fact that the broadway one DOES and yet keeps her having spring flowers & autumn leaves only to the ppl in the underworld when she arrives.... inch resting. something something the ruling class provides ‘charity’ of resources people should already have as a reward for ‘good behavior’ something.)

eurydice at the beginning is isolated. she falls in love with orpheus and decides to stay with him, but even them being together does not mean he understands her, or values the same things she does. this is evident in both versions, but in the broadway version, when eurydice goes to the underworld, she does something interesting; she tries to introduce herself to the other workers. now, i never saw the 2017 version in full, only heard the album, but in the album she signs the papers and is rejoicing that she’s ‘free’ and has to be told that she isn’t. she doesn’t really speak to the other workers, beyond this exchange about ‘freedom’. in the broadway version, she’s dejected--she did what she had to do. she knows that’s what the other workers did. and she goes to talk to them about it, bcos in spite of where they are, she wants to create a connection with her fellow workers (building solidarity! my girl!!) (also interesting: at the start of the show. she’s alone. she’s always been alone. she sings about how people always turn on you and she’s better off alone before she meets orpheus, but even after she has to leave him, she tries to make a connection with other people. oh...... character development, we love it.) she doesn’t SUCCEED, but she TRIES. which may be important in why they choose to follow HER later.

now we come to chant (reprise), wait for me (reprise), and doubt comes in, the BEST revolutionary eurydice songs in the ENTIRE show. in the 2017 version these were mostly orpheus-focused (and altho i miss the ‘he said he’s shelter us/he said he’d harbor me’ parallels from the 2017 version of chant ii, the company singing with eurydice & orpheus about ‘if i raise my voice, if i raise my head’ fucks SO HARD). eurydice sings with the workers as they’re revolting, and when they walk out of hadestown, the workers follow her. (they don’t follow orpheus, even tho that’s who eurydice is following; ‘if she can do it so can we’. she’s one of them. she’s the one they’re following. can you BELIEVE). eurydice also gets to echo (louder, stronger, and using our instead of my) orpheus’s fantastic fucking ‘i hear the walls repeating the falling of my feet and it sounds like drumming’ bit, with the workers giving her backup. god. so fucking good.

and then, again, i never saw the 2017 version, but ‘doubt comes in’ in that one is still melancholy even on eurydice’s parts; she’s hopeful, but she’s alone, entirely relying on orpheus to lead her. i did get to see the broadway version (and bro.... the production value on that.... the LIGHTS first of all, the LIGHTING, and this song in particular? all dark when orpheus sings so you can’t see eurydice, and then cut to eurydice in lights with the workers following? MY DUDE.) and eurydice’s bits in this song are triumphant. she is sure they will get out, she is dancing and turning back to the workers as she sings she is right behind him (they sing back: we are right behind you). she is following him and sure of him, and she is with the workers and they are with her.

which is part of why ‘sing it again’ does so little for me, actually? like, orpheus had his chance, and he fucked it up, and yes it’s a beautiful story and we want to think he’d do it right, but this is nothing like the end, and singing it again leaves no way to move forward. eurydice led the workers! she gave them her name, she made them care, she was their beacon of hope and what they could become (compare to their previous beacon of hope, persephone, who shows up once a year and sells them remnants of their former lives and does not try to lead them out bcos she’s too caught up in her own anger). eurydice did not make it out with orpheus, but i HAVE to imagine that she and the workers got that taste of freedom, that taste of memory, that taste of solidarity, and would not just forget it again. it becomes more than a love story, it becomes about eurydice’s position of solidarity with the other mortals (something orpheus almost gets, but fails due to insecurity and inexperience and being the outside-savior rather than one of them). and obvs that doesn’t work with the original orpheus and eurydice myth, but listen...... let them bother hades after the end. let them fucking unionize. pls it would be so GOOD i am just! i am just!!

[consentaclecthulhuwrites]

Free Bird, Chapter 6

The next time Revali saw her was at the informal ordination of Link as her sworn protector and chosen knight. The ceremony had supposedly been crafted to be uplifting, and a symbolic beginning for the dangerous journey upon which they were all about to embark. However, if this ritual was meant to set the tone for the entire mission, Revali could only dread the outcome of the plan.

The commentary while Zelda stood above her chosen knight suggested Revali was not the only one with this sense of foreboding.

“Gee, this is uplifting.” Daruk sounded disarmingly sarcastic. “She’s making it sound like we already lost.”

Revali piped up, “Wasn’t this your idea? You’re the one who wanted to designate the appointed knight with all the ceremonial pomp, grandeur, and nonsense we could muster. And if you ask me, the whole thing does seem to be overkill. I think I’m on the same page as the princess regarding… this boy.”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Urbosa sighed. “That boy is a living reminder of her own failures. Well, at least that’s how the princess sees him.”

Her own failures? Revali didn’t understand what Urbosa could have meant. From what he knew of her, Zelda was an accomplished scholar and the pride of the Hyrule legacy. She had modesty, charity, and chastity. She was elegant, well-spoken, truly kind, and carried the weight of royalty like it were gossamer. There was something weighing her down to be sure, but Revali couldn’t imagine it had anything to do with her royal lineage.

Especially around the boy, she seemed more distraught than ever. What was it about this chap that got so under her skin? All the boy had was a stupid destiny. Unlike some people, the champions actually had to work for their skill, for their place in this league of future legends. It was apparent that Zelda had more than earned her reputation as one of the foremost scientific minds Hyrule castle had to offer, as well as a devoted acolyte. Sure, the murmurings made her sound more fanatical and eccentric than anything, but Revali chalked that up to shallow minds with shallow thoughts. It was the squabble of the little people, and what did they know or matter? It was their ignorant hides that needed saving.

After the ceremony had concluded, the champions were allowed time to explore the grounds of the castle. Link had gone to the stables with Mipha, Daruk was off near the armory, Urbosa was in the dining hall carousing with some of the younger soldiers, and Zelda had supposedly returned to her quarters. Revali observed that the princess had slipped out of sight rather swiftly, and none seemed eager to attend her despite what was clearly a downtrodden appearance.

He wondered...

Zelda hunched over the desk in her lab, scowling down at her journal. Why did she ever listen to Daruk? He was such a blockhead sometimes. She appreciated his sentiment; for a man of stone, he certainly had a warm heart, but the ceremony had been an absolute disaster. All the muttering amongst the champions while she spoke the ceremonial script… She caught bits here and there.

“Already lost…”

“Overkill…”

“Failure…”

Her face burned with shame. She wanted the ceremony to be meaningful, positive, and give hope to everyone. She should have known that endeavor would fail. Zelda had no hope herself. Since childhood, the inkling of the goddesses, the innate sense of their presence, just did not exist for her. Her prayers were answered with silence. Her fasts were met with ravenous spiritual hunger. She even offered up plants as sacrifices, then cried with guilt for wastefully plucking them without result. For whatever reason, the goddesses found her… unworthy.

She scribbled hastily, trying to put down the words as fast as they entered her brain. On the verge of tears, she noted, “It is as if there is a great chasm between the goddesses and I. I shout and shout for them to hear me, but only my voice bounces back from that deep, unending void.”

She heard a noise and snapped her journal shut. Someone was clearing their throat. She whipped back to the doorway, but no one was there upon opening the door, nor waiting at the end of the bridge that led from her scientific tower to her bedchamber.

She began checking the windows and at last, she saw a fierce green eye surrounded by blue feathers floating within the frame of one of the slit-sized windows.

“Champion Revali, I believe it was you who reiterated that it was rude to eavesdrop when we first met.”

He hoisted himself up to where he was fully visible in the window frame, flapped his wings, and gave a bow. “My sincerest apologies.”

“Also, do you not think it inappropriate to come see a member of the royal family in their private chambers?”

“But I’m not in them, now am I?”

Zelda laughed. “Are you in need of something, master Revali?”

He offered a gallant smile. “Perhaps your majesty would care to join me for a walk on the grounds. I can see everything up here, but I’ll admit… Hylian structures are baffling to me. I wondered if perhaps you would be willing to educate me.”

The warmth of the smile that grew on her face told Revali he had succeeded in breaking her out of whatever dismal reverie she’d been in when he peered in at her, scowling at her journal.

Zelda met Revali at the base of the stairs. They began to explore the walkways leading down the primary battlement of the castle with a leisurely gait.

“Here we have the entrance to our library.”

“Library?”

Zelda blinked in surprise, then ushered Revali inside.

“What in Hyrule…” His eyes widened as he glanced around the massive room filled wall-to-wall with books.

“Surely you know what a library is, Revali.” Zelda giggled.

Revali rolled his eyes and ruffled his feathers, then said, “Of course I know what a library is… I’ve just never seen one this massive. There is no actual library in the Rito village.”

The princess’s head cocked to the side. “Why not?”

The Rito raised his wing up to the princess’ field of vision and wiggled the most controllable, dexterous portions of his wing, which still looked wildly unwieldy.

“Oh… penmanship and flipping pages must be difficult!”

“Only disciplined Rito, dedicated to the art, actively pursue reading and writing beyond a primary education. We are creatures of oral tradition and have little use for books, though some of the oldest legends are inscribed on tablets of stone.”

“Is it mostly birdsong?”

“Yes. Why would we speak about the legends of the Rito when we could sing the ballads of heroes, the laments of our tribe, the lullabies our fathers learned from their fathers?”

Zelda pondered this for a moment. Then asked: “Do you sing, Master Revali?”

“I can, but I generally do not.”

Zelda had led Revali up a cascading set of stairs and was clearly determined to show him a specific volume. She was scowling and tracing her fingers along titles as she walked along the upper level of the library.

“I could have sworn it was in this section… Found it!” She pulled out a broad but thin volume, clearly weighted, almost square enough to be used as a breastplate for armor fitted to the girl. A harp was crested into the volume’s cover, gilt in gold.

“This is a musical volume of songs from Hyrule’s history. Do the Rito use notations like this?”

She showed him a page with a simple melody. The notations were similar but…

“We use lines like this but typically our musical staves are much larger…” He squinted at the page and then pulled back. “Our notes are not all round. We use shapes and lines to indicate different note lengths…”

“Fascinating! Could you read a melody like this?”

“I am not well-versed in musical notation. We received basic training in childhood, but after those initial years, my studies were dedicated elsewhere. However, this melody is similar to one we learned as nestlings. The Ballad of the Goddess, I believe?”

Zelda laughed with excitement. Revali could not help but notice her laugh was high and sweet, almost birdlike with a chirpy nature.

“Would you sing it for me, Revali?”

“I would rather not.”

The disappointment that fell across her face was immeasurable. It nearly ruined Revali’s day to see her so put out; he felt he had to explain, even if the reason was made up on the spot.

“I do not like the way I sound when I sing from prescribed notes; the planned nature feels stifling. I would rather you not insist.”

“Oh. I would never dream to impose upon you. I’m sorry!”

Revali turned very stern, and gazed at her directly. “Do not apologize. It is not for someone of your position.”

Zelda was a bit taken aback by this admonishment. Most did not speak to her in this blunt fashion. No one but her father had spoken in unfiltered directives. She understood the Rito were a singularly bold people; perhaps tact was not really part of their vocabulary. Her facial expression betrayed her utter bafflement. She nodded sharply.

“You’re right, Revali.”

At that moment, a member of the royal guard emerged at the top of the stairs and was clearly headed in their direction. Revali moved from the princess’ side just as the guard focused his attention on her and said, “Your presence is requested by his majesty King Rhoam.”

Zelda turned to speak with Revali, but he was already taking a bow.

“Till we meet again, your highness.”

The guard extended his arm, and Zelda passed him by, where he took up her rear as he escorted her from the library, following her quite closely.

Revali watched as she disappeared down the staircase, the royal guard following behind her. Why send a guard? Why did he follow her with so little space between them? What an incredible sign of disrespect. It’s as if they expected her to give chase if they even dared to blink. He hoped nothing was amiss. But he couldn’t help to wonder, yet again…

~*~*~*~*~

Link to Chapter 5 HERE

Link to Chapter 4, Part 2 HERE

Link to Chapter 4, Part 1 HERE

Link to Chapter 3 HERE

Link to Chapter 2 HERE

Link to Chapter 1 HERE

[pepperf]

mint tea, horchata, and toddy <3

mint tea what’s your comfort movie/tv show?

Leverage, for sure. I do find other things comforting in places, but usually I also have other feelings, depending on the ep. I think Leverage is the only one that is pure comfort. And also sometimes I think I watch all the juice out of something? Like, I don't really rewatch Community, or Stargate, although they would've been my go-to shows for a long time. I think Leverage is the only one that I am not strongly fannish about in that way, but will happily rewatch at any point.

My comfort movie is The Slipper And The Rose, which is a retelling of Cinderella that speeds quickly through the original story and on into how the king and his chancellor are like, okay, if the prince marries one of our own people and rejects all these other eligible royal maidens from our neighbouring kingdoms we are going to be invaded AGAIN these two idiots are very sweet and in love but we are all going to DIE. It was made in the 70s, and stars Gemma Craven and Richard Chamberlain, it's about 2 1/2 hrs long, the costumes are gorgeous, the songs are dramatic and romantic and funny, and at times bitingly sarcastic, there's a fairy godmother who bitches about the workload and is clearly on the brink of setting up some kind of fairy godmother union, and my favourite song is an ear wormer all about the protocols of seating at the ball.

horchata first band/artist/song that got you into your favorite music genre?

Oh god I'm bi I don't make me try to name a favourite anything…! Okay, a genre I love is alt-country, and the first time I remember being aware of it was from this collection called Americana 2004. I still have some of the songs, I don't know what happened to the rest, but they are Another Morning by American Music Club, A Song For You by Whiskeytown, Free Until They Cut Me Down by Iron & Wine, The Dreaming Dead by Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter, and Wings by Josh Ritter.

The last one really, really got me into Josh Ritter, it's amazing and spooky, which is only a fraction of the things he covers, and I've been to see him three times live now, most recently with my dear friend Rosie, at the end of 2019. He's so good live, he's one of the few people whose live albums are sometimes better than the studio ones. He did a series of live concerts from his living room during the worst of the pandemic, sometimes just to raise people's spirits, sometimes to raise money for charities. I got him to dedicate a song to Rosie, and hearing him say my name live was one of the highlights of a very shitty year.

toddy have you done any sports or been in any clubs? which ones?

Not really. I've done running, briefly, but beyond a couple of 5k and 10k races (which I was running to complete, not to outdo anyone), I've not done it as a sport. I don't enjoy team sports, either to participate in or to watch (apparently England something something football something yesterday). I thought once that maybe it was just my terrible school experience combined with the whole 'reading OR sports and never the twain will meet' thing that existed back then, but I have come to understand that I like exercise in general - I love walking, I would love running if it didn't fuck up my ankles, I love yoga, I enjoy being at the gym, I tried krav maga and was like 'hitting things YES'. But I hate competition, I hate always being last/least ept/the loser, I have no ability nor inclination to learn any kind of rules or physical routine, every atom of my soul rebels at having to drag myself to any kind of regular scheduled practice, and I don't want to be part of a team/club…*shudder* so. Hard pass.

(Apparently I still feel strongly about it!)

[beca-mitchell]

fool’s gold (1/1)

Summary: Beca finds herself in Colorado bidding on a date with one Chloe Beale. Accidentally, of course. Besides, it’s for charity. Set after PP3.

Word count: 4,216

Rating: T

Read below or on AO3.

Beca finds out about it accidentally. A total accident wherein she did not intend to find out this information. She had been perusing the Bellas groupchat, a chat which she had been slightly too busy to participate in recently, when something caught her eye.

Chloe’s name plus the word “date”. It had taken a few tries and a few shaky swipes of her finger before she figures out that Chloe is participating in some charity event.

Beca hesitates at first, about to type out a message to Chloe right in the groupchat, but she quickly switches over to her private conversation with Chloe and winces when she realizes that her and Chloe haven’t really kept up an ongoing text conversation (and hardly any phone calls) over the past few months.

Beca sighs, flipping back to the groupchat and hoping against hope that somebody else—probably Aubrey or Flo—will ask Chloe about it.

Flo F. What kind of charity is it?

Chloe Every year, the senior vet students run some kind of fundraiser. This year it's for research. In the past, this auction thing has been a huge hit!!

Fat Amy So you’re selling your body? Nothing wrong with that of course.

Chloe No, I’m just…auctioning off a date.

Beca puts her phone down slowly.

Had three and a half years really flown by that quickly? Chloe was almost done with veterinary school and Beca felt like she was still struggling to stay afloat herself.

Well, that was a little untrue. Six Billboard Top 100 hits, a Grammy nomination, a North American tour with an international tour on its way, her first album had gone platinum with the second hot on its heels—

It’s just that Chloe Beale had always seemed so wholly unattainable even with everything that had transpired between them. And Beca wasn’t completely stupid, she knew some of this was her own fault, but life just came at her too fucking fast.

(This being the whole ‘we definitely have feelings for each other but we are also definitely not doing anything about it because one of us is in Colorado and the other is in California sometimes but not always’ thing. God, that always knocked the wind out of Beca. In any case, it had been one weekend of Chloe visiting Los Angeles and a drunken kiss that led to a little more, but nothing really, then an unspoken decision to never speak about it again.

Yeah. This.)

— — — — — 

It takes Beca another two hours to finally message Chloe and she almost has a heart attack when she pulls up their conversation.

Chloe’s last sweet dreams! xo stares back at her accusingly. 

Beca So, a date huh?

She groans. 

Yes, obviously a date. Aubrey already asked for more details an hour ago and the groupchat had long moved on.

Chloe’s reply is nearly instantaneous.

Chloe ?? 

Beca The whole auction thing you know for charity 

Chloe oh haha, yeah. It’ll be nothing. Just some rich student with too much to spend. I don’t have my hopes up or anything.

 But if Chloe could have her hopes for somebody in particular…Beca’s fingers tap anxiously on the edge of her table as she stares back at Chloe’s innocent-enough message.

  Beca oh, well fingers crossed lol

Chloe yeah.

 Beca winces at the one-word response, telling herself not to read too much into it—it doesn’t mean anything, they’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine—

  Chloe I miss you

She sighs in relief.

Beca miss you too chlo

— — — — —

“You didn’t ask her out yet?” is Theo’s confused inquiry. “Wait, you weren’t dating already?”

“Just—just look up flights to Colorado.”

“I’m not your assistant, just in case you forgot.”

“I know, but Jeff’s on the fritz today and I don’t need another snide remark from him.”

“Snide remark? About what?”

“…about Chloe.”

“Ah.”

 — — — — — 

 Beca isn’t sure how she ends up here, but she ends up doing some casual research about this supposed senior tradition at CSU’s veterinary college and it ends up being more of a thing than Beca originally expects. Like a super serious thing where people buy tickets to attend. 

All proceeds go to the National Animal Disease Center and the Animal Welfare Institute. Tickets at the door will be $55.

Beca stares at the long list of details and scrolls for an embarrassing amount of time until she finds a list of “Auction Participants”. She exhales noisily through her nose when she finds Chloe’s name, surprised to see separate profiles attached to all the students participating.

Chloe Beale, Rising 4th Year Veterinary Student, DVM Candidate

Chloe enjoys singing and morning runs. She will probably fight you over whether the CSU Rams could hold up against the Barden University Knights. In her spare time, she enjoys volunteering at Larimer Humane Society as well as the CSU Zoo. You might have seen her running a few weekend educational programs for children 10 and under.

PS. She’s single!

Beca isn’t sure what grates on her more, the fact that the description doesn’t say anything about how Chloe hums her favorite songs when she gets nervous, or how Chloe’s hair grows at least a shade and a half lighter during the summer, or—or how Chloe can talk at length about nearly anything if she thinks it’s something that another person will find interesting. She is selfless and beautiful inside and out. 

And that last line. Beca’s fist clenches. She isn’t sure why it annoys her so much, but she hates the idea of this auction gimmick even if she knows instinctively that it is all in good fun and Chloe genuinely wouldn’t have consented to it if she didn’t believe in it or trust everybody who would be participating. Still, maybe Beca doesn’t want Chloe to…be single.

Her brow furrows at that last tapered-off thought.

To distract herself, she taps Theo’s number into her phone and waits with bated breath.

“Hello?”

“Did you book the ticket yet?” she asks in lieu of greeting.

She’ll let his amused chuckle slide this once.

 — — — — — 

 So maybe it isn’t really an accident.

She’s in Fort Collins, Colorado, on a beautiful but pretty damn chilly campus. Beca pulls her windbreaker tighter around herself and tugs her scarf up over her mouth and nose. She hasn’t been recognized yet, but she has a suspicion that there have been two young ladies following her, but she can’t be certain.

Though her fame is manageable, it still flares up unexpectedly and at inopportune times.

Like the last time she had visited Chloe on campus and they had spent the weekend eating at Chloe’s favorite spots and drinking cheap wine until they were laughing and leaning heavily against each other. Beca had loved the scent of Chloe’s shampoo as it wafted up from where Chloe had her head pressed against Beca’s shoulder and neck, her giggles tapering off into nothing. Back then, they hadn’t kissed yet—Beca was still recovering from the sting of seeing Chloe kiss Chicago even though it had happened months prior, but nothing had ever transpired.

And for a moment, when Chloe lifted her head off Beca’s shoulder, Beca had thought Chloe was going to kiss her. And she wouldn’t have minded, not at all. It had been something she had been thinking about for so long that Beca’s heart began to pound in anticipation. Then Chloe’s roommate had let herself into the apartment despite Chloe’s insistence they were going to be alone and she had recognized Beca surprisingly quick considering Beca had only one or two viral music videos released at the time. Beca hadn’t been sure, but Chloe had looked supremely disappointed.

Focusing back on the present, Beca gazes at the familiar, yet unfamiliar campus. She had made sure earlier that there hadn’t been a completely strict dress code for the event and opts for a loose wool sweater and nice jeans (a memory of Chloe’s fleeting “those jeans make your ass look good” passes through her mind, but she pays it no mind). She buys a lanyard with the CSU name and mascot emblazoned on it. Just to add to the look.

She finds the student center soon enough. Happy to be out of the chill for a moment, Beca pulls her scarf down but leaves her toque on, keeping it tight over her eyebrows.

“Hey,” a voice calls instantly and Beca jumps because for a moment, it sounds like Chloe. But that would be impossible, she’s barely been there five seconds— “I know you, you’re Chloe’s friend, right?”

Beca turns to see young man, around her age, smiling in a completely nonthreatening manner. She vaguely recognizes him from some of Chloe’s social media posts, but she can’t quite place his name. “Hi,” she says instead.

“Did Chloe invite you to this?” he asks, sounding entirely too amused for Beca’s liking.

“Uh…” Beca isn’t sure what the better answer would be—yes, Chloe invited poor hapless Beca Mitchell to watch her get auctioned off and alternatively the implication that Chloe would need some pull from somebody like Beca which is dumb because despite the crappy dating profile on the website, Chloe needs no help at all; or no, Beca invited herself because she’s there on a mission. “Hm,” she says evasively instead. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Benjamin, but you can call me—”

Beca smiles. “Ben,” she finishes. It’s cute how much he reminds her of Benji. “Chloe posts about you a lot.”

“Yeah, we kind of…” he laughs, pushing up his glasses. “Bonded, I guess. She’s been a good friend. Helped set me up with my boyfriend.” He nods his head towards the door. “Want to come sit with us? We’re mainly here for the show and the food. Do you have your ticket?”

Beca blushes but tamps it down as best as she can. “Uh no, I was gonna buy at the door.”

He grins again, but says nothing about that. “Okay, we’ll see you inside. We’re kind of near the back. Turn left when you get in.”

 — — — — — 

 The emcee is fairly decent and Beca cracks a laugh at a few jokes. She has a pretty good view of the stage and she feels comfortable enough sitting near Chloe’s friends. They seem to take a shine to her and teasingly press an auction paddle into her hands.

“For an emergency,” Ben says, mirth in his eyes. And something akin to knowing, as if he knows something Beca doesn’t. She tries to scowl at him, but she misses that opportunity because Chloe is being walked on stage looking like—

“Oh,” Beca murmurs, blushing when she can feel eyes on her. There is no way Chloe can see her in the crowd because she’s sure the spotlight is bright enough based on Chloe’s squint and embarrassed smile. But otherwise, Chloe looks stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress and white doctor’s coat. Beca blinks back the unexpected surge of emotion—not quite tears, but her eyes do sting a little—that she gets upon seeing Chloe in person for the first time in at least a year.

God, she had gone a whole year without seeing Chloe’s face—without having Chloe’s hands to hold and Chloe’s arms around her.

She never wants to do that again. She never wants to be apart from Chloe for that long, too afraid of her own feelings to push for something she knows Chloe wants as well. She had seen it in Chloe’s eyes over the past decade and more of knowing her. Chloe, her best friend and confidante—the person who most got on her nerves but also knew how to put her back together in more ways than one—

“We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars! Ten-dollar interval minimum, please and thank you.”

There’s some cheering and laughter in the crowd from a group near the front. Chloe blushes again under the spotlight, but she flips off the group whom Beca assumes consists of people Chloe knows well enough.

“That’s kind of low,” Beca comments.

“You should bid,” Vlad, Ben’s boyfriend, suggests.

“No, I’m just here for support,” Beca replies distractedly as another person bids up to $100. Beca’s fingers tighten momentarily around the paddle before she relaxes and wills herself to scan the crowd as nonchalantly as possible. But before she can really settle down—

“Two hundred!”

It’s arguably the biggest jump Beca has heard over the last few auctions and the murmur that rushes through the crowd indicates that they think it’s something worthwhile as well.

Beca tries not to think about how she made two-hundred dollars in the first minute—probably less—of releasing her second single on Spotify.

“Two-fifty,” a female voice calls out, distinctly confident and self-assured. Beca notes that the blush on Chloe’s face is a little different now, this time a little shy and demure like she knows that person and is touched by the gesture.

“Who is that?” Beca asks quickly.

“Oh, I think that was Amelia,” Vlad says when he notices that his boyfriend is not responding. “She’s in Chloe’s cohort.”

But who is she, Beca wants to demand further.

“Two-seventy,” the same male voice from earlier counters, though with a tinge of hesitation.

“Three hundred,” ‘Amelia’ counters.

A pause. “Three-twenty.”

“Four-fifty.” Without hesitation. An excited murmur ripples through the crowd. Chloe’s hands are now covering her face, but Beca sees that she’s smiling ever so slightly.

“She likes her,” Ben says simply.

“Who likes who.” Beca considers this a very important distinction.

“Amelia likes Chloe.”

“And does Chloe like Amelia?”

“They’re friends.” He stares at Beca pointedly. “Like you guys are friends, right? So what’s a little competition.”

“But Chloe and I are—we’re—”

Beca finds she has no real justification, no real insight to offer because she and Chloe have been teetering on that edge of almost for so long that she has forgotten what it meant when competition came along.

Until Chicago.

And before that, for Chloe, Jesse, but Beca had been nearly completely blind to it.

And now this.

Beca’s hand is rising before she can stop herself. Her brain seems to shut down completely—the rational part at least—as her heart grabs the reins. It’s stupid, it’s archaic, but this is for Chloe (almost literally, but Beca will never succumb to the belief that this is any valid way to date somebody). “Seven hundred,” she calls out. Her eyes widen when heads swivel to her and she quickly ducks, pulling her scarf back up to her nose and mouth. She waves her paddle above her head, too embarrassed to see whether Chloe’s eyes are scanning the crowd for her.

“Holy shit,” Ben mutters.

“Eight hundred,” Amelia counters somewhere in the distance, but suddenly Beca’s ears are roaring with the oddest sound—like a chorus of fucking angels or something.

“Oh my God, the animals are lucky today,” somebody mutters somewhere to Beca’s left.

“A thousand,” Beca counters.

“Um—” Ben seems to think better of it and clamps his mouth shut, though he looks like he might laugh, or worse, smile at Beca. God.

“A thousa—”

Beca’s had it. “Two thousand!”

The shocked silence that follows is enough to tell Beca that she’s completely lost it.

(But she lost it long ago—somewhere between agreeing to join an all-female acapella group when she was eighteen because of that girl with blue eyes and a killer voice and that chaotic year that followed, somehow ending with her kissing the wrong person at the end of it all. No more of that.)

“Um,” the auctioneer has apparently lost all capabilities of auctioneering. “I…guess…? Sold to—” He peers over the crowd. “You?” he asks again, still unsure. “For two thousand dollars.”

Beca quickly presses the paddle into Ben’s hands and sinks lower in her seat, distinctly avoiding all eye contact. Those closest to her finally seem to catch on and she catches the faintest hint of whispers.

“Is that…?”

“No fucking way.”

“God, I knew Beale was lying when she said they weren’t hooking up.”

Beca tries not to think about any of that, suddenly very interested in the patterns on the carpeted floor.

 — — — — — 

  Beca i did something really stupid

Aubrey Yes, the auction was livestreamed. Chloe sent me a link.

Beca holy fuck could you see me???

Aubrey No, but thank you for confirming. Two thousand dollars, Beca Mitchell.

Beca is about to type something incredibly cheesy in response to the mild snark in Aubrey’s text, but she is distracted by Ben’s shadow appearing over her.

“Hey, so uh, you have to actually meet Chloe backstage. To set up the details and stuff. And they’re going to need a check or some other form of payment? For that two thousand dollars you just dropped?”

“Do they accept Amex,” Beca deadpans.

“Yes, I believe so. So now that that’s covered, shall we?” He holds out an arm for Beca.

Beca sighs and clicks off her phone, decidedly ignoring the very long paragraph of text Aubrey just sent to her (she caught words like “my best friend” and “hurt her” and “bear trap” so she figures that’s something she can laugh or cry over when she is inevitably sent back on a plane to Los Angeles).

“Does she know it’s me?” Beca finally asks.

“I honestly don’t know. You’re kind of short and I don’t think she could actually see you.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Beca says, feeling lightheaded.

“It’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t it be? We’re friends. We’ve done stupid shit before. She stayed back three years to just be part of an acapella group.” And to be with you, an annoying voice sounds in her head.

Oh, that was actually Ben. Who sounded eerily like Aubrey in that moment. Beca steps away from him.

He stares at her pointedly, pointing at the door.

Fuck, Beca thinks.

It is a simple study room and when Beca opens it, she isn’t expecting the space to be so small and so brightly lit. She winces immediately and nearly steps back out, but Chloe’s gasp is enough to keep her rooted to the spot.

“Beca,” Chloe squeaks. “What the fu—what are you doing here?”

“Hi,” Beca says, waving. Chloe continues to gape at her. “Hi?” Beca tries again.

Before she realizes what’s happening, Chloe is flying towards her and wrapping her arms so tightly around Beca that all the air rushes out of her in one fell swoop. She has enough sense to grip tightly at the back of Chloe’s coat, her fingers scrabbling on the thick, coarse fabric until they settle easily into each other like no time had passed before.

Beca sighs—literally sighs—like a disgusting teenager in love and she kind of thinks Chloe does the same before Chloe is pulling back and punching her in the arm oncee she’s at arm’s length.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“You seriously paid two thousand dollars?”

Oh right, that happened and was still happening.

“It was an accident,” Beca says instinctively and defensively.

“You raised the price by a thousand dollars accidentally,” Chloe clarifies.

“Don’t—don’t call it a price, like you’re…” Beca gestures uncomfortably. “Like you’re on sale or something. And I totally believe it’s your right to do what you want with your body and stuff because you should be allowed to have all that agency and—”

“Wow, Beca slow down.” Chloe grins affectionately. “Nobody’s doing anything with my body, not without my permission anyway. These things usually just end in a quick dinner or like. Laser tag or something. It’s never that serious.”

“I knew that,” Beca says quickly, trying to ignore her own blush at Chloe’s choice of words. “I just…I wanted to be…I wanted to,” she takes a steadying breath, “go on a date with you. And be your girlfriend. And do couple-y things. Because we’d be dating…as girlfriends.”

“You did?” Chloe asks quietly and so delicately that Beca’s breath catches. She tries to maintain eye contact as best as she can.

The air around them feels so heavy. “So much.”

“So you…” Chloe’s brow furrows. “Came to Colorado and paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me? And I’m assuming you flew…so even more than two thousand dollars.”

“I…it sounds weird. I know. I’m weird. I just—” Beca heaves a breath. “I panicked, okay? I had this crazy vision of you ending up with somebody…with somebody else. That wasn’t me. And that sounds crazy jealous and crazy possessive and I have no right, but I’ve been thinking about you so much and I don’t know that I’ve ever really stopped thinking about you since that first day at the activities fair that entire fucking lifetime ago.” Beca feels winded suddenly and quickly looks up at Chloe with desperation. “I should have just…” she trails off, unsure.

She should have never let Chloe slip away the first time. Then the second time when she had the chance. When Chloe met her in the middle so many times before.

“Beca,” Chloe whispers, pulling her out of her swirling thoughts. “It’s…” She struggles to think of a word for a moment. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, I promise. It’s just…a lot.”

“I’m just so sorry because it seems like I’m always like…just one step off from you. And I just want to be on the same page. I want to be what you deserve.”

“Me too,” Chloe replies, reaching forward to take Beca’s hand. She doesn’t hold Beca’s hand however, opting instead to gently grip her wrist, her thumb beginning to trace soothing circles along her wristbone. “I want to be what you deserve too.”

Beca swallows the immediate protest. She lets it die in her throat because she knows Chloe is right—that they have so much to work on. But they can do it together.

“Things have been weird between us, haven’t they?” Beca asks quietly. She fixes her gaze on the “Since you came to visit me. And we…” she swallows. “We kissed.”

“We did,” Chloe murmurs.

“And have things been weird?” Beca presses.

“A little,” Chloe admits after a pause. “But things have always been a little weird between us.” A small smile slips across her lips as she uses her free hand to tilt Beca’s chin up so their gazes meet once more. “But I’ve liked that.”

“You have?”

Chloe shrugs. “Kind of.”

“We…we don’t have to go on this date, you know?” Beca clarifies, eyes flicking between Chloe’s eyes and her lips frantically. Chloe draws closer. “We…” Beca’s voice cracks. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Chloe asks, her finger still tracing the underside of Beca’s jaw and the side of her neck.

Beca’s eyes flutter shut. “I want to kiss you again. If that’s okay.”

“Do you…” Chloe’s breath is warm against Beca’s mouth as she moves closer still. “Do you…have another thousand dollars?”

Beca’s eyes would fly open if she weren’t completely lost in the sensation of both of Chloe’s hands coming up to tangle into her hair. She moans at the sensation before she can help herself and immediately closes the distance between them, their lips bumping uncomfortably for a second before they settle into a somewhat familiar rhythm. Just like that, with a hint of banter and the way their touches soothe each other, they settle back into familiarity—back into what made them work all those years ago.

Instantly, Chloe’s body seems to press into hers with ease. Chloe’s head tilts and her mouth parts and Beca just about loses her mind. She reaches up to grab Chloe’s shoulders with difficulty before she moves her hands down to hold Chloe’s waist while subtly tugging her closer. Chloe sighs a little into the kiss before she pulls back with Beca’s lower lip trapped between her teeth for a brief moment.

Beca shudders. “Unfair,” she murmurs, momentarily forgetting her own name. Chloe’s name. Amelia. Ben.

There is nothing but this moment, with Beca’s heart threatening to burst from nerves and excitement and passion and sheer joy at the feeling of having the woman she loves in her arms once more.

“Never wait that long to ask me out again,” Chloe teases, pressing her forehead against Beca’s. “This was like…weirdly romantic, but I don’t need you to drop two thousand dollars. No matter how rich you are, miss Grammy nominee.”

Beca tilts her head to steal another kiss. “Again? As in we’re going to have multiple dates.”

“If you play your cards right.” Chloe’s nose brushes against Beca’s lightly. “Not your fancy credit card though.”

“Oh,” Beca says because Chloe’s hands are tugging through her hair again and somehow her toque is on the floor and they’re kissing again.

She could get used to this.

But of course:

“Wait ‘til I tell the girls you paid two thousand dollars to go on a date with me.” She doesn't need to sound so smug, but Beca would be remiss if she didn't acknowledge how hot Chloe sounds saying that.

It isn’t an accident that Beca shuts her up with a kiss.

fin.