#okay you got me technically its more than one layer but the point of the practice was the character and not the bg so it doesnt count
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GIRLFAIL WIZARD!!!!!!! An experimental one layer painting of the weird lady that's been infecting my brain lately
#adventure time#betty grof#magic betty#golbetty#fionna and cake#fanart#experimental#okay you got me technically its more than one layer but the point of the practice was the character and not the bg so it doesnt count#need more people to acknowledge betty for the weird freak thing she is and i mean this SO affectionately#shes so cool#my art
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That'd be helpful, I wanna draw fanart
after many grueling hours they are finally done! ofc their outfits change but these ones give a good idea of how they dress. some design notes and inspiration underneath. im gonna redo their bio sheets at some point soon too so look out for that
in order of the height chart:
dumois: i wanted to make her look kind of like a little kids nursery and also incorporate her astrology interest into her design more so i gave her more charms in her hair and a cute quilt-inspired victorian nightgown. oughh shes so cute i love her sm <3 i think her colors turned out a lot more comprehensive compared to her old design where i threw a bunch of different purples at the wall and they kind of looked bad. now shes so prettyyy and i think the naptime sleepy cowsheepgirl aesthetic has definitely been captured
zubi: their fashion is usually the hardest for me to conceptualize because its like a weird mix of beachy clothes and emo rave... i think this outfit turned out good though, and i really like that the pops of coral/salmon evoke the beach while the dark fishnets evoke deeper dark water. i also almost gave them longer ponytails (think like miku has) bc i thought it would look pretty in water but i decided not to bc everyone else besides gaglug has long hair and i think the weird hair they have now has a good unique silhouette. i also turned their fins the other way so that they would actually be helpful in water
paezel: hes finally buff!!!! the crowd goes wiiiiiiild. he also has his pact tattoo on his arm (its supposed to look like a plant bc thats maeves thing) i feel like the tail kind of went from bovine to almost dragonlike but i actually really like that. i dress him like in the second spongebob movie when theyre in the apocalypse and i love it. not much else to say but i think he definitely looks a lot better
aureus: ok so her design turned out so elaborate that i had to go back and redo the designs i did before hers (dumois, lumiloriol + zubi) so that they wouldnt look lame asf which overally definitely helped their concepts. aureus is supposed to be way more over the top than everyone else but still i mean i cant let the others be flops. shes soooo pretty though i used a reference for her rococo style and it definitely helped a lot. my princess my darling i love youuu
lumiloriol: i usually try to keep their clothes kind of simplistic to highlight their own natural beauty, but i did give them the scarf kind of thing and the train for some layers. for lumiloriol i usually take a lot of inspiration from gothic art especially john martins paradise lost art (because of course) and i definitely feel like i was able to incorporate it. i also think they look super androgynous which i loveee bc angels usually are... they really do look like a fallen angel even if they technically are a step removed
concupiscence: connie i luv uuuuuuuu <3 concupiscence has gone through a lot of different inspirations over the years but ive settled into a britney spears/paris hilton smashup for him and so i based his outfit on various outfits both wore in the early 2000s. shes also got the striped tongue now which i decided to give her a while back bc i think its a fun addition to her design, reminds you that shes a creature. my girly <33333
gaglug: yeah um i got rid of four of its arms... they were making the design wayyy too busy and hard to draw. now it has funny little weird grubby arm thingies though so its okay its still buggy. umm not too much to say here since it doesnt wear clothes but i do love its bug hooves so much :)
anyways i love you my silly 400 year old 20 year olds
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Well, went to see avatar 2 yesterday. Had a lot of thoughts on it, that I have almost certainly forgotten.
To sum up, if you liked the first one you'll like the second. It unfortunately and unsurprisingly has similar weakpoints/critiscisms to the first, but, I think plotwise its stronger than the first (which isn't hard to do lol) but simultaneously has bigger weak points (at least 2 aspects that... contribute nothing)
Full spoilers obviously, but uh. Theres not really any huge revelations here. Its the first one again with more layers and also less on account of parts already being done.
The good:
The creatures obviously. Not asss strong as the first but well water-based life has a lot more restrictions tbh. Theres a reason a lot of unrelated fish look the same. The setting felt less alien and I'll be real Subnautica has already, excuse the pun, blown the standard for ocean spec bio out of the water, and wellll look, if its true they made these films ages ago but couldnt release them, thats a shame, it would have felt more innovative in a pre-subnautica world.
The Na'vi felt a lot more fleshed out in this one, a good sense there's a lot more to them than. Uncomfortable Space Native American Metaphor. However a bad point ahead completely dries up a ton of, and a ton of future, development to them as Not Just Space Native American Metaphors. Siiiiigh.
I liked that we got to see, well, more Na'vi who werent avatars! People critiscise their designs for being too human but the sequel makes it WAY more clear that the avatars are essentially *half human* and that the actual Na'vi are considerably more alien looking. This take annoys me so much I am a Na'vi Design Defender this is my Hill to Die On except the feet. God i hate their people feet. And that they dont have the neck holeess whhhyyy???
Stronger plot! Yes it's essentially the same film again in terms of Moral or whatever but its less of a straight course. The beginning was very strong, though I honestly felt it was contrived the reason they leave at all. I think staying in the forest and developing it more would be a better idea plot and setting-wise but its fiiiine. Its been ages maybe moving on was a good choice long term.
The sorta side plots of the kids, the outcast whale, they were good! I liked them! It added a bit more than just Same Movie Again but Water.
The bad:
Its still Avatar. It still has, a lot of questionable choices. Why does the water chief guy have a cape made seemingly of feathers. Have you seen a single feathered animal in avatar. Why not. Dried fish fins. Sea plant fabric. Something that isnt Feathers. You and I know why its feathers. And its a shame. Same as the first movie, it burns inside me there probably were innovative original ideas that got scrapped in favor of making the Na'vi read as. Well. Space Native Americans and now Space.... Maori? Like, the tattoos. :///// C'mooon its a cool idea in concept (whale tattoos. Amazing.) but youre just... taking that.. its just. Siiiigh. I really do hope its true this is actually like, technically a ten year old movie. It doesnt of course *excuse* all that but if you had decades to make another and you didnt listen to a major critiscism of the first that is easily fixable? Unexcusable.
And uh hey why does Jake have dreads. Maybe I didnt notice this in the first in which, okay, that's established if still a Wierd Choice, but uhh. I dont remember any of the navi having dreads, or curls or whatever at all... Their hair is kept around their neural link whip thing... Why'd they. Do that. The new water people had some curls which was cool, I shouldve paid attention to notice if they still had the neural hair braid. Cuz i really hope they just have a tentacle sticking out of their head when the hair isn't there that'd be cool. But yeahh ummm. Giving the White Guy dreads. I'm more of a benefit-of-the-doubt giver you can maybe tell but uhhhhh. I can't really think of a plausible reason for that choice that makes it not look. Bad.
Oh I forgot, the bad point I mentioned. The film translates Na'vi.
*sssssssiiigggghhhh*
Whyyyyyyyyyyy
You made a whole languaaaageee
Theres so much culture you could have addeeeeeddd via the languaaaageee
There is the sea sign language which I hope was a conlang at least. But uugggghhh.
It's just crushing. The whole reason I make conlangs, this movie. And well it's not gonna happen anymore.
:[
Some of the plot points are useless. Why does the human kid exist. I thought he'd be a cool way to take the plot but uhhhh they do nothing with him! His only contribution was funny backtalk (which the other kids did better) and saving the Colonel. Which. Whhhyyy.
And the dreads again. Why? The colonel's a pasty white guy. Its already wierd for him to have a kid that wasnt mentioned or foreshadowed at all but. Huh???????? What. Why.
Speaking of, I really liked the Colonel as a villain in the first movie for his over the top villainy and generally likeable hateableness. I'd be fine with him being a returning villain... but hes just not as interesting and hes just. Boring this time. And well he's not dead so he's coming back again. Okay. I'd have preferred the exploitative whale hunter guys to have been the main villain here. They weren't developed much at all. Did they even get names???
In general the villains motivations were wierd. He just wants to kill Jake. What happened to unobtainium. The whale guys want the whales eternal life juice, cool. That goes nowhere really in favour of Kill Jake. Why aren't they colonising the forest now they know he's gone. I still don't see how him leaving was a good idea.
Conclusion:
In general I work on a basis of liking things as I know they Could Have Been rather than What They Are. Avatar is one of the best things ever from that point of view and I will defend that point of view, because I like being contrarian and well I want. More things like it to succeed.
But it's not that in reality. It's flawed, but in a way that is fundamentally... fixable. It's not like where I don't like something because at its core it cannot Get Better. But the Avatar in my head's real good.
Again, if the rest of it's creative production went how the music supposedly did... we were robbed.
Here's to a bunch more maybe? Hopefully of continuous improvements but uhh it's Avatar. I would be happy with more of the same which is prolly what its gonna be so yay for me and my low standards?
#avatar#avatar spoilers#i guess#i prolly have more thoughts but i forget#also unironically made me laugh sometimes. thats always good#i dont think the first one got more than a chuckle out of me so thats#something i guess
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Okay, so I have a funny story about my process of making this comic…
First off: I only draw new pictures for the final panels of Polarnoids, because I realized long ago that redrawing the same basic pictures for the fairly formulaic set-up panels was BORING.
Anyway, this comic is no different. The thing is, though, that I initially drew the Bat Girl standing right-side-up. Then, I realized it would be cool if she was upside down, so I rotated my (digital) pencils so they were upside down. I then drew all the stalactites and stuff.
Once the pencils were done, I proceeded to ink on the same layer, realize my mistake, undo all the inking, and ink on a separate layer. I got everything all done, then, and was very happy with it last night as I set it up to release this morning.
Jump to today, and I'm awake and going about my morning stuff. In the middle of doing my Nintendo Switch martial arts workout thing, I realized, "Oh, crap! I think the Bat Girl's ponytail is still reacting to right-side-up gravity!"
You see, her ponytail should be hanging "above" her head, to indicate gravity, but it isn't, because I am human and make mistakes. While I could technically fix it (since it's digital), there are so many different layers of things I did to get the look that I have here that it's just more trouble than it's worth.
Worry not, though! I have a BFA, so I am knowledgeable of the Art of the Spin (i.e., giving a creative/artistic reason for a mistake). In this case, what we don't initially consider is that this is an homage to Batgirl, the superhero from DC Comics. The Barbara Gordon version of Batgirl (who is one of my favorite superheroes) was initially co-introduced in the comics and on the 1960s Adam West TV show—known for its campy effects. Thus, the Bat Girl that I drew also has elements of that. In this case, it's that the "photo" that I drew is actually of a Bat Girl standing right-side-up, but the "camera" was turned upside-down. This makes it look like she's hanging upside-down from a cave ceiling, but gravity betrays her reality.
All of this is to say that I realized an issue with a detail of this comic—which many people probably wouldn't notice without it being pointed out. Rather than fixing it or hoping it goes unnoticed, however, I'm coping by just making up an explanation that is sufficiently plausible, so that this doesn't drive me batty for days and weeks to come. (Pun intended.)
Art is a process, and even though I drew this correctly in a different comic series I do, I make mistakes. Everybody makes mistakes. But, I had fun making this comic, like I do almost all or my comics, and that's enough for me ^_^
Polarnoids #227
I feel like PENGUIN could have other reasons for not liking bat-folks…
By Brian T. Sullivan | November 10, 2024
#artists on tumblr#polarnoids comic#polarnoids#libby sk8er girl#batgirl#bat girl#behind the scenes#art mistakes#my art mistakes#my art#art process#my comics
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@wolfstarmicrofic July, Day Four: slippy
Yes, more firefighters. I warned you, lol. Gets a little NSFW towards the bottom.
The heat is oppressive, a smothering weight that cloys and resists the wind's attempt at moving it. Remus wipes sweat from his brow with a grimace and casts a pleading look their Captain's way. "Captain, are you su-" Remus stops himself and changes course. "Do people actually pay for this?"
Captain Shacklebolt laughs, a deep booming thing, and jerks his head in the direction of the growing queue of cars littering the block. Moments before, it was a ghost town. What changed? "Eyes front, probie," the Captain insists. Remus doesn't like being called that, mostly because he's not. Technically. Well, he is a probie here at this station, but that's only because he moved and is new to the department. Back home in Arizona, he had two years of experience under his belt. Still. No one argues with the Captain, so Remus looks and the... motivation for all of the cars becomes readily apparent as Sirius and Lieutenant Potter come rounding the corner, bare to their waists, each holding a sign: 'Firefighter Car Wash: Donations only' and 'Put Suntan Lotion/Sunscreen on a Firefighter: $5'
Remus looks back at their Captain, his brows raised. "This-"
"Every year, Lupin. Like clockwork. Rake in a ton of cash for the Widows fund and Burn Camps. Haven't had a tough year since Black and Potter came onboard."
Remus, looking back at the two men now running up the sidewalk to direct traffic to the empty car lot, can see why. Potter is a bronzed, sculpted statue of a man whom Remus had never had the pleasure of seeing shirtless before and fuck, Lt. Evans has it good but, then, so does he. Because next to him, Sirius is effortless beauty, muscular and pale as the sun is bright, his long hair tied up off his neck. Remus has seen him very shirtless before, but it hasn't lost its charm.
"Yeah," Lt. Evans laughs, coming up to bump Remus with her hip. She barely comes up to his bicep, but she's a sturdy one. "He's hot. C'mon, Lupin, time to get wet." She winks, laughs again, and jogs backwards towards the first car.
Washing cars with firehouses is actually a lot easier than Remus anticipated. He used to spend an hour or more getting his dad's truck nice and clean, but with four of them to a car, they're making short work of an ever-growing line.
Well, mostly four of them. Sirius and Lt. Potter keep getting pulled away (as do the Prewetts from B shift) to submit to the $5 application offer, not that it seems like it's much of a trial.
"Take it off," he hears Sirius murmur low and against his shoulder. Remus shivers despite the heat and tries to bat him away. "You're soaked. Just take it off. You're gorgeous. Let them see."
Remus scowls and makes a grab for Sirius, but his wrist, coated in god-knows-how-many layers of sunscreen, slides right out of his hold. "You're a slippy bastard," Remus grumbles.
"You could be, too. You've got to give James and me a break. We're like 80% oil by this point. It's not safe! You wouldn't want us to slip and fall, would you? All the firefighters in town are busy with a silly car wash!" Sirius casts his silver eyes up at him with a pitiful little wobble of his lower lip and Remus's resolve crumbles.
"Don't harass the probie!" Lt. Evans scolds, swatting Sirius with a towel. "Lupin, you don't have to take off your shirt if you don't want to. It's not a requirement."
Remus sees Sirius roll his eyes behind her back and smothers his smile. "Nah, it's okay. It's soaked through anyway." He strips the dark blue cotton off in a fluid motion, to the approving honks and whoops and held-out five dollar bills of cars further down the line, and Remus blushes. When he was younger, he had quite the time getting strong enough to pass his training, but once he started packing the muscle on, his body seemed to get with the program.
"Holy-!" Lt. Potter gasps, looking Remus up and down. He looks at Sirius, mouths something that looks suspiciously like 'well done' and beams at Remus. "Ahem. Right. Red Mazda four down would like to oil you up, Lupin. Atta boy!" he calls while Remus dutifully trails off.
Even after a long, hot shower (and a longer, hotter make-out session in said shower), he and Sirius both still smell like coconut, but it's not the worst thing. He's learned a lot about Sirius today, like that his hair gets adorably curly when exposed to humidity for a long period of time, and that he gets a little possessive after an afternoon of watching other people put their hands all over Remus's upper body.
Presently, Sirius has Remus's arms pinned by the wrists above his head as he straddles him, licking and nipping his way down his chest in excruciating slowness. Remus is worried he might actually burst. Sirius has been at this for half an hour at least, intent on covering every inch of him, muttering things like 'stupid fundraiser' as he goes.
"Y-you, fuck, careful...!" Remus groans with Sirius sits down on his hips. They're both in loose sweatpants, and Remus's briefs are in Sirius's washing machine, so there's not much to hide his very obvious reaction to Sirius's ministrations.
"What if I don't want to be careful?" Sirius asks, nipping his earlobe. They haven't actually had sex yet. They've been dating (as much as two very busy firefighters can) for a couple of weeks, but the time hasn't seemed right. Hasn't seemed special enough. And Remus has never cared about timing before. God knows he's had plenty of flings and failed relationships, but with Sirius...he wants it to matter. He wants to fall for him first, not his phenomenal body.
"Then I'm going to come in your spare sweatpants," Remus warns bluntly. "But as I was saying- oh, fuck you, that feels good," he moans when Sirius rolls his hips down. "Fuck, Sirius. You didn't get like this when they were touching Potter!"
Sirius snorts. "I'm not fucking James."
"You're not fucking me, either," Remus blurts before he can stop himself.
Sirius pulls back and regards him, pink-cheeked and beautiful. "I want to. You know I want to," he whispers. "Do you not want to?"
Remus wraps his arms around Sirius's waist and drags him down to lie on top of him. "No, I do. I really, really do. I just...I really like you, Sirius. I don't want to fuck this up."
"You think sleeping together will fuck it up?"
Remus sighs and shuts his eyes tight as he holds Sirius tighter. He's a heavy weight atop him but it feels good. Grounding. "It has before. Pretty much every time. People I like don't tend to stick around." He doesn't know what's wrong with him. But he's never been the one to break up with someone. It's always been him, staring at his phone or, once, an email, wondering where things went south. He's not hideous. He doesn't have many vices. Nothing illegal, anyway. Nothing abusive. He knows he's hard to get close to, between his own hang-ups and his work schedule, but surely someone would have stuck around longer than a few months.
"I'm not going anywhere, Remus. If that's the thing holding you back, that you're worried I'm a one-and-done type of guy...don't. If there's more, if there's something I can do to prove that I really like you, too, just let me know and I'll respect that, but if it's just that you think I'm only here because you're fucking hot, you're absolutely wrong." A hard edge has crept into Sirius's voice, and his fingers dig into Remus's shoulders where he's holding on. "I'm here because you're kind, and funny, and really gentle. Watching you with those school tours and those kids is like magic. I mean, you're also really fucking hot, but that's just a bonus."
Emotion wells up in Remus's chest and he lets out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry."
Sirius pulls up and kisses him sweetly. "Don't be. We've all got our shit. And dating is hard in our job. But it's been pretty fun lately, don't you think?"
Remus nods, bolstered by the kiss. "Really fun. I'll try not to overthink this. It's just sex, but sex with you feels like it'll mean something. And not just because you're like a fucking supermodel," Remus adds quickly, because he can feel a cocky comment just waiting in the wings for the appropriate time.
Sirius wriggles out of his hold and sits on top of Remus again, his knees on either side of his hips. "It'll mean something because you mean something. If it happens, it happens," he says simply. A predatory look comes over his face, and Remus can feel himself stiffen in the borrowed sweatpants. "Right now, though, I think I'm still taking inventory. So. If you would be so kind," he says with a little twirl of his fingers at Remus's hands.
Remus rolls his eyes good-naturedly and, because he can and because he's got a bit of the devil in him, too, he thrusts upwards, jostling Sirius and sending a beautiful flush to his cheeks.
"Oh, you're in for it," Sirius warns, lurching forward to pin Remus's wrists above his head again.
"Bring it," Remus baits just as Sirius delves his tongue into his mouth, taking the fight out of him even as his blood reignites.
#wolfstar#remus lupin#sirius black#my fics#firefighter au#wolfstarmicrofic#microfic#i was told micro means between 50 and 50k#slippy
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Weddings and Warpaint: Part 2
A/N: Wow!! I have been over whelmed by the amount of the support I have received from you guys! I thought I was the only one who shipped these two so its good to know I'm not the only one out there haha! Sorry this chapter is a little later than I planned. I had some other fics to finish and I've been swamped at work for the past few weeks but I got it done eventually! No idea when another chapter will be! I've got a couple of ideas but I'm just taking this a chapter at a time really! If you want to talk to me more about Raquel x Orion (dubbed Rockion by @lattelola) or about this fic then please do not hesitate to ask! Xxxxxxxx
Ao3
The reception quickly got under way after the ceremony.
As soon as the happy couple had cut the cake, the pair headed straight for the dance floor, with most of the guests hot on their heels.
Finally done with her bridesmaid duties, Raquel scanned the party in search of her boys. Orion was easy to spot, his colossal height and broad shoulders making him stand out even amongst a sea of superheroes. Once she'd spotted Orion, it was easy to find Amistad standing beside him. Unsurprisingly, they stood away from the commotion of the dance floor, near the buffet table that people were currently too busy dancing to pay much attention to.
She saw Amistad tap Orion’s hand before pointing to the cut pieces of cake. Orion handed her son a slice, helping himself to one as well.
Raquel couldn't help but smile as her son eagerly explained to a God the best way to eat a cake.
As Raquel made her way over to the buffet, she realized that the cake was made up of two layers, vanilla and chocolate. Raquel wouldn't have been surprised if her friends had made the choice deliberately out of consideration for her son, but even if they hadn't, she was grateful non the less.
"I see you boys decided to help yourselves to desert before dinner then." She teased.
Amistad nodded in total agreement whilst Orion had the decency to look away in confused embarrassment.
Raquel let out a laugh, stroking hand across her son’s hat.
“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.” She said, picking up a piece. She could barely hold back a moan as she took a bite. The dough was so light it practically melted in her mouth. Megan’s banking skills had really improved since they first met. Once she had finished, she noticed that Orion must've gotten over his embarrassment as he was looking at her again. She also noticed that his plate was still as full as she had last seen it.
“You okay big guy? Do you not like our mortal deserts?” She said, pointing at his plate.
Orion glanced back down at the plate in his hands as though surprised it was still there.
"No, I do enjoy the taste. I like the simple flavours and light texture.” He assured her, taking a bite out of the vanilla layer to prove his point, following it up with a bite from the chocolate.
"Do you guys have cake on New Genesis?" Raquel asked.
"No but I prefer it to the food we have on New Genesis. As technically New God's do not need material sustenance to survive, food is only usually served at special events. Whilst my family and friends enjoy these dishes, I find the indulgent flavors and textures displeasing."
“Well if you ask Megan I’m sure she’ll be happy to give you the recipe to introduce to your friends back home.”
“Thank you. I believe I will do so.”
When Orion put his late back on to the table, Raquel assumed that he was doing so until because he’d finished. Until he started to march of in the direction of Megan.
“Wait! Not yet!” Raquel told him, grabbing hold of his bicep to pull him back. “ You can ask her once the reception’s over. They’ll be having their first dance in a minute.”
“First dance?” Orion asked, coming to a sudden halt that probably had little to do with Raquel’s attempts to tug a three-hundred pound God back in his place.
“Yeah.” Raquel explained, catching her breath. “ It’s an Earth tradition. The newly wed’s first dance as a married couple.”
“What is it for?”
“Well it’s not like a legally binding thing. Not like the vows or anything. It’s just nice you know. To have that moment, swaying to your favorite song when despite being surrounded by all your loved one, it's as though the two of you are alone.” Despite herself, a soft smile appeared on her face.
"You speak from personal experience?" There was something off about Orion’s usually monotone that Raquel could not place.
"Once upon a time. With Amistad's father. But we've been separated or a while now." It was still strange to think that it had only been five years ago since her own first dance. It felt like a lifetime ago.
"Why?" Orion asked, confused. Raquel wasn't sure if it was over divorce in general or why someone would split up with her.
It was far from the first time she had been asked that question and usually it was accompanied by a disapproving frown or even anger that she would dare to let herself be happy as though that was somehow worse than forcing her child to grow up in an environment were the two main adults in his life were in a constantly miserable, loveless marriage. But as she was coming to discover with Orion, when he asked questions that normally pissed her off, it was done out of genuine curiosity and confusion, without the obvious malice she had gotten so used to from her fellow humans.
"The usual.” Raquel shrugged. “We were young and stupod and thought we knew what we wanted out of life but quickly realised that we actually had no idea who we were. Noble's a great guy and an even greater father but, we just weren't the ones for each other. Do your people not get separated?"
Orion thought for a moment, collecting his words.
"It has happened, yes, but I believe it is much rarer than on your planet. As New God's we are immortal, so whoever we marry, we will be with that person forever.I have known some courtship that have lasted for thousands of years before they promise that commitment."
“Woah!” Raqual gasped. And people told her dating for three years before getting engaged was too long! "That wedding night must be a real celebration."
"So I've heard." Orion said, the tiniest trace of a smirk in his voice.
"I'm guessing you ain't ever tied the knot then?" Raquel asked, not sure where her own sudden need to know came from.
"No. In all my years of existence I have never found someone to marry."
Before Raquel could ask a why of her own, a voice came over the speakers announcing that it was time for the first dance.
Raquel looked in the direction of the dance just in time to see Megan and Conner float into the air. The crowd erupted in cheers of celebration.
Raquel immediately looked back at Amistad who had pulled the edges of his hat over his ears.
Raquel held out her hand for him to take, before guiding Amistad away from the noise. She headed for the secluded shadow of the tree’s, that were still near enough to see what was happening, but far enough to dampen the noise. In her haste to get Amistad away, Raquel had nearly forgotten about Orion, until his shadow appeared next to her’s, his massive size, helping to block some of the noise. She flashed him a grateful smile before turning her attention back to Amistad. His palm had started to feel sweaty against her own. She gently cupped his face against her, feeling that it too was warm.
She forced a smile, trying to hide her worry from her son.
"Baby, are you sure you want to keep wearing your hat? I know it's your favourite but it might make you overheat which could make you feel sick."
Ever since she had returned from New Genesis, she had been attending classes on how best to approach raising children with autism. And one key piece of advice had been that explaining the reasonings behind something as opposed to just telling him, would help her son understand her perspective more so that in turn she could better understand his.
Sge could tell that Amistad was torn between understanding why it could make him sick but not wanting to take of his favourite hat. It hurt her knowing she was making him choose.
"Perhaps you would prefer to wear my helmet instead?" Orion offered.Raquel was surprised. Infused with New Gos designs, she had assumed that his helmet had more cultural value to him than the masks other heroes typically wore. Unsure if her assumptions were correct, she still greatly appreciated his offer. And with Amistad’s noise canncellig headphones back in the house, she didn’t have many other options.
"Won't it be too heavy for him?" Raquel asked.
Orion shook his head.
"No, it won’t change in size but the density of the metal should adapt to the wearer."
He removed the headwear, revealing the amber cooured hair that no human could have naturally.
Shaking herself out of a slight daze, Raqul turned back to Amistad.
“Would you like to wear Mr Orion’s helmet instead?”
“But what about Wooley?” Amistad asked.
“I will wear him.” Orion stated.
Raquel tried to tell him that he didn’t have to, but Amitad had already nodded, taking off his hat and handing it out to the God.
They swapped. Amistad wasted no time putting the large helmet that looked adorable on his small head whereas Orion’s head was too big for the small hat, instead wearing it more likely a barret.
Raquel wasn't sure who was the more ridiculous sight.
Amistad happily tapped her hand.
"Mummy! I can still hear you. But I can't the noisy party." He said. “That’s great Baby!” Raquel smiled, enjoying the sight of her sons as he tested out which sounds he could and could not hear.
After a while she glanced back at Orion who was still struggling to decipher how to fit the hat on his large head. .
"Here, like this." Raquel said, taking pity on him. She reached up, standing on her tiptoes to tug the edges of the hat down till it reached his ears.
That was when she made the mistake of looking down. In this position, she was almost eye level with Orion. This close, she noticed that those eyes weren't pure red like she had once thought, but burnt in shades of violet and Amber. It was like gazing into the light of a star.
Out of nowhere, a fast moving object hit the side of Orion’s head.
Startled, Raquel stepped back. She saw that fiery rage flash inside Orion’s eyes and he snarled to face to perceived enemy. But in the next second it was gone. With one hand he gripped the hat where the object had hit whilst the other reached into his pocket where Raquel knew motherbox would be waiting.
Trusting Orion had himself under control, Raquel searched the floor to see what had hit him in the first place.
She found a circular piece of elasticated silk with heart shaped lace decorating the sides. It was Megan’s garter!
"Sorry!” Conner shouted from across the garden. “I was aiming for Kaldur!" He pointed at a blushing Auqalad amidst the amused crowds.
"I'm sure it was just the wind. These light things can fly far in Earth’s air you know!” Megan said in a voice that was far too sweet.Raquel didn't need to be a mind reader to know that the wind might have been helped by a certain someone with telekinetic abilities.
Raquel was thankful that attention returned to the happy couple and that nobody seemed to have noticed orion’s reaction.
She turned her own attention back to Orion who appeared to be in control again.
“What was that?” He asked with only the slightest hint of a growl.
“Oh it was nothing!” Raquel breezed, not sure how Orion would take that particular Earth tradition. “How are you feeling?”
"I am fine now.” Orion replied. “I understand why Amistad wears this helmet. It is protective and comforting."
"Good, cus It suits you." Raquel teased, humoured by his honesty.
Before Orion could respond, Amistad jumped up, tapping her hand.
“Mummy! It’s dancing song!” he cried and sure enough the macarena was blasting out of the dance floor speakers.
Amistad wasn't one for dancing, but he did enjoy songs with instructions, humming along as he followed the moves to the music. He tapped her hand again until Raquel laughed, joining in to a much bemused Orion.
"Come on!” Raquel said, pulling Orion in line beside them “I'll introduce you to another Earth marriage tradition."
"What?"
"Making a fool out of yourself at the reception!"
The three of them danced for the rest of the party, following the moves long after the song was over, unaware of the pictures Megan had taken that wouldn’t be shared until a different wedding many years later.
#rockion#Young Justice#raquel ervin#orion#dc#yj#raquel x orion#rocket#rocket x orion#amistad ervin#amistad#noble#m'gann m'orzz#megan morse#miss martian#conner kent#kon el#superboy#kaldur#kaldur'ahm#aqualad#aquaman#wyynde#supermartian
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"The Librarians and the Dark Secret" notes, pt 1:
Long notes. Mainly because there are Evil Catholics here and unrelated moral ambiguity. I got ranty. Anyway, real-time journey below:
Oh, weird symbol-covered parchment inside an organ. This feels kinda Fringe/Alias-y.
Noooooooooo, not Evil Catholic Religious. PLease. Librarians. I am tired.
JOHN NOBLE JOHN NOBLE JOHN NOBLE
^^ as you can see, I went through an emotional journey in the first minute and twenty seconds of this episode. But A) Fringe vibes redoubled, and B) I will put up with a LOT for John Noble. even if I still expect to be gritting my teeth through Evil Priests content.
Torn on whether or not I hope he has a son with whom he has a complicated and deeply flawed relationship. On the one hand, his character is (at least pretending to be) clergy, but on the other... what is a John Noble character who isn't a messed-up dad?
Anyway. Moving on.
Okay, I knew it was a wedding fakeout (If you want to blindside fans with a wedding, you blindside them with the CRUX of the matter, not with a lot of wedding-looking prep that everyone onscreen's being a little vague about). But I didn't call that it was a rehearsal for the not-technically-a-wedding. I respect that added layer of fakeout.
(and the additional chances it brings for the Important Ceremony to be thwarted for an episode or a season, if plot demands.)
Side note, though: Jenkins, I appreciate you're the only one taking the Important Magical Ceremony seriously, but I don't think you really need a full dress rehearsal with all the decorations if the principals don't even have their lines down yet.
Park ranger: *swears at a group of men who are very clearly in cassocks, only to get embarrassed when they turn around*
...Really? The clerical collar is more of a signal to you than the full-length black cassocks??
NICOLE!!!
Y'know, I was going with the headcanon that something happened to Nicole during the Time-Machine-Stealing Ninja Caper, and she got stuck permanently in the past (or possibly future). But I was picturing a... less angsty version of that.
Making Nicole evil makes me UPSET. >:( I'm not saying she's the most stable personality, but she went through a lot for the Cause of Good in her movie! She didn't crack then!!
Why WAS Jenkins the one to hunt her down and lock her up? Was he just in a more active phase a hundred years ago?
...For that matter, what does this imply about what they already knew of the future during the first movie? If the Library locked her up before they recruited her... that gets twisty.
Ezekiel's right, actually, I think we should all be a little more disturbed by the fact that they've had A PERSON LOCKED UP IN THE SECRET BASEMENT ALL THIS TIME. (Also, feels like consistent characterization with his "bodysnatching is indefensible" stance.)
I mean, what do you do with an immortal out for your blood? Tricky. But still.
Also, "What else is the Library not telling us?" is actually a really fair question, because we know Library secrets are on a very strict need-to-know basis where its Librarians are concerned (since they're kinda the foot-soldiers)... and we also know that our little team is Running The Place now, through no act of their own. With Judson and Charlene gone they should be unpacking a lot of secrets. What if something happened to Jenkins?? They'd be lost without a map!
Listen. There are a lot of points on Nicole's side right now. Prophecy or not.
Soooo... the priests are a heretic sect, but they're secret heretics hidden within the Church, but they have special iconography that they wear regularly to identify their heretical cult? Sure, Jan.
A know-nothing religious sect formed in the 18th century has no reason to stay hidden inside the Church. Do you know how popular making your own religion was then?? People didn't stay in the Church if they didn't want to!
Oh, here's another gem: their symbol is a callback to the flames that destroyed the Library of Alexandria—which, why would they care about that symbol of learning specifically unless they're actually anti-magic-Library. Annnnnd they want to... "return the world to the Dark Ages."
*deep, tired breath*
Jenkins, you were AROUND for the ""Dark Ages,"" don't you DARE spout that Enlightenment propaganda.
And AGAIN. Why would a reactionary anti-Enlightenment "Christian" cult that wanted to go back to the Middle Ages (entirely reasonable reaction to living through the Enlightenment, btw! I'd be on board with that part!) care about the destruction of the Library of Alexandria one way or the other.
Also, btw, some of us who dislike the so-called Enlightenment wouldn't call ourselves "Shadows," we just happen to think "Enlightenment" is a stupid, egoistic misnomer for a period that significantly dimmed the light of truth in the world.
"Tell me, do you date all of your Guardians, or just the blonde ones?" Nicole, dear, I am attached to you, but you are the one who dated both your Librarians—and in much quicker succession. Glass houses, here.
Ohhh, Flynn. Buddy. This is yet another thing he's been living with, huh.
"Mnemonic device an immortal made for themselves" is possibly the BEST explanation for a cryptic treasure map/clue. I like to see it.
Anyway. I'm halfway through the episode and I need to get up in five hours. It is, in the words of the meme, TIME TO STOP.
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What are friends for?
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Request: Hi! I loved little lamb, you're such an amazing writer!!! Can I request a piece where reader and Billy are friends and for her birthday she asks him to fulfill a smutty fantasy and he's all too happy to comply. Bonus points if reader calls Billy Lieutenant and it involves his combat gear. Love, love, love your blog <3 <3 <3
A/N: Thank you, dear friend 🥰😘
You guys are letting me live my best hoe life and I love you for it 😂
The High Priestess of the Cult of Russo blesses you all 🖤😈😘
Warnings: cursing, a whole load of smut lmaoooo
(Under 18s avert your eyes and scroll on by)
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“C’mon, Y/N. I keep askin’ you and you won’t gimme a goddamn answer. I need to know what you want,” Billy huffed from next to you. The pair of you were in a booth at the bar, your friends having all left around 10 minutes ago. You’d opted to stay since you hadn’t finished your very large glass of wine and Billy stayed to keep you company. He’d walk you home, he always did.
You pursed your lips in thought before you scrunched your face up, looking at him as he gave you an exasperated look. You were sitting sideways on the bench seat with him, heels kicked off under the table with your legs draped sideways over his legs. It was pretty much par for the course with you two.
“I don’t know. I think I’m just getting to that age where I don't care about my birthday,” you snorted, taking a slurp from your wine. You had a little under half of it left now and you were pretty tipsy. Billy groaned and rolled his eyes at your answer and you gave him a sheepish smile before looking away. Your birthday was coming up in a few days and he’d been asking you for weeks what you wanted but you didn't really want anything. Nothing material anyway.
There was one thing that kept coming to mind yet you found yourself way too embarrassed to ask him. You took another generous glug of your wine as you thought about it, cheeks flushing slightly.
“What is it?” Billy asked knowingly. Your eyes snapped to his then as he raised a brow.
“What's what?” You asked innocently. He grinned, looking amused as he snatched your glass and took a pull from it.
“You just thoughta somethin’, so spit it out. You know I’d get you anythin’ you want,” he said softly, a fond smile on his face. You chuckled to yourself, eyes darting around the bar for a moment as you nibbled your lower lip. If you were completely sober you’d never tell him, but you weren't sober.
“It’s not necessarily something you’d get me… more something you’d… do,” you murmured, lips tugging up in a wry smirk as you glanced at him. He tilted his head, dark eyes assessing you for a moment.
“Alright, I’m curious,” he drawled with a small smile.
You licked your lower lip, shifting in your seat a little and resting your elbow along the back of the bench seat, bringing you slightly closer to him.
“Okay so… you can totally say no, but you asked so I’m just gonna come out with it. You're not allowed to be weirded out or hold it against me,” you said, levelling him with a firm look. Both his brows raised at that, an apprehensive look on his face.
“Spit it out, Y/N,” he murmured with narrowed eyes. You blew out a long breath, taking the glass back from his hand and slurping some of it.
“My sex life’s been pretty… boring lately. It's always so vanilla, you know? I have this fantasy and honestly, I think you'd be perfect to fulfill it,” you said, looking him right in the eye thanks to the booze running through your veins. You watched as his brows almost flew off his head for a moment, mouth slightly agape as your words hit him. But then he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat a little as he tilted his head. His almost black eyes were pinning you in place and you idly wondered through the layers of alcohol in your brain if you'd just ruined your friendship.
It wasn’t like you thought he wasn't attracted to you, you knew he was. You’d met years ago through Curtis and you quickly became part of their friend group. For the first month after meeting Billy, he’d tried to get in your pants every time you saw him and you’d turned him down. You were flattered, he was hands down the most attractive man you'd ever seen. But Curt had warned you of his reputation and you preferred to have one night stands with people you didn't know. It was less awkward that way. It was after that first month when things changed with you and Billy though. The pair of you were supposed to meet Frank and Karen at the bar but they hadn't turned up. You later learned they'd been so wrapped up in each other they'd forgotten the plans. But it ended up being just you and Billy. You'd bonded over tequila and tragic backstories and since then, you'd been super close friends.
“What exactly is this fantasy of yours?” He asked. You didn't miss how his voice sounded deeper and it sent a shiver right through you. It wasn't an outright no, so you took that as a win at least.
“I mean… I don’t have specifics really. I have some ideas and stuff, things I’d like to try. And I don't feel comfortable doing it with some random guy, but I trust you so…” you trailed off, swishing the last bit of your red wine around in the glass. When you looked back up at him, his eyes were a little softer, a small smile playing on his lips. He leaned his arm on the bench, his hand by your hair as he toyed with it. It was something he did often and you always enjoyed it.
“Tell me what you got in mind,” he murmured as you leaned into his touch.
“Do you still have any combat gear?” You asked, biting your lip as you looked up at him. He looked mildly shocked for less than a second before a sly grin worked its way onto his face.
“Yeah… yeah I do,” he replied with a smirk.
“I have a thing for a guy in uniform, I mean who wouldn't? And I happen to know you look pretty good in it since I've seen the pictures,” you shrugged, sipping your wine. He seemed like he lit up at your praise and you almost laughed, it was kind of cute.
“What else? You want me to play dress-up, but what else you wanna try?” He asked softly. It was a valid question, clearly if you didn't trust some random guy to do what you wanted it was more than just putting on military gear.
You looked away for a moment but he tugged your hair, making you look back at him with a mild squint as he grinned at you, his brows raised expectantly.
“I’ve never tried anything… exciting. It's depressing, Billy! Its always boring old vanilla sex. I want to be dominated, I wanna be restrained, I wanna try things, you know? I wanna be choked, spanked, all of the good stuff,” you whined, letting it all out. He blinked at you for a long moment and he didn't speak, his face unreadable. You started to wonder if you’d broken him before he rolled his shoulder and a dark smirk graced his face. It made your lower belly clench. You'd never seen that look on his face before, but fuck if you didn't like it.
“Done,” he said simply, the slightly terrifying yet arousing smirk still on his lips. His eyes were alight with something you couldn't place as you looked at him skeptically.
“Really? Just like that?” You asked with a snort. You had no plans on telling him but you always thought if you did he’d say no or never speak to you again for even asking.
“Just like that,” he shrugged easily. With that, he switched topics to something else entirely and before long he’d walked you home after you finished your wine. Neither of you mentioned it again and you wondered if he would before your birthday happened or if he was bluffing and didn't want to outright say it to your face that he didn't want to fuck you.
Days went by pretty quickly and now it was the night before your birthday. Well, it was almost midnight so technically it was almost your birthday. You were sitting on the sofa in an oversized tee and your panties, watching reruns of The Walking Dead. The next day, your actual birthday, you’d be going to Karen and Franks for a little birthday get together with your friends. You yawned into your hand when suddenly your front door knocked firmly. You sat up straighter, now wide awake as you looked at it warily. You weren't expecting company at this time. You checked your phone to see it was dead on midnight before you got up and padded over to the door. When you looked through the peephole, no one was there. You took a step back feeling wary when the door knocked again, more impatient this time. With a deep breath you opened it but nothing could have prepared you for what was on the other side.
Billy was standing there decked out in his combat gear, the same kind you’d seen in the pictures of him and Frank overseas. It fit his frame perfectly and your eyes swept from his head to his feet before back up again, unable to help yourself. When they landed back on his face, he raised a brow, a smirk on his lips. In all honesty, you’d forgotten about it. He hadn't mentioned it once since it happened and acted like you’d never asked such a thing of him and it had completely slipped your mind. But now your body was thrumming with excited and nervous energy and you found your voice rendered useless.
“Gonna let me in?” He asked teasingly. You nodded, quickly stepping out of his way and shutting the door behind him. It was then you noticed a black duffel thrown over his shoulder. Before you had a chance to ask about it, he spoke up.
“Sit down,” he commanded. His tone of voice felt like someone zapped you with an electric current.
“Yes, sir,” you replied instantly, not even meaning to do it. But the way his eyes flared at your words told you he very much enjoyed it.
You moved to sit at the dining table, hands shaking slightly from the anticipation of whatever was to come. The Billy currently in your apartment wasn't the one you were used to. He dumped the bag heavily on the table with a thud and your eyes were drawn to it before you looked back at him. He was standing tall beside the table, looking down at you, his hands clasped behind his back as his eyes regarded you in a way that made you squirm.
“Here's how this is gonna go. Safeword is tequila. You don't like somethin’, speak up. It's all about you, you don't gotta just roll with somethin’ ‘cause you think it's what I want. You have the power to stop it, but while I’m here, I’m in charge. I tell you to do somethin’, you do it or there'll be consequences. We clear?” He asked roughly. There was no smirk on his face now, it was serious as his dark eyes bore into you and you swallowed thickly.
It wasn't lost on you the safeword he’d picked and you felt slightly reassured that while he was clearly asserting his dominance over you right now, he was also letting you know that ultimately, you were the one with the power to call it off.
“Crystal, sir,” you replied, a wry smirk tugging at your lips. He didn't smirk or grin like you expected but you noticed his nostrils flare slightly and his shoulder roll. He unzipped the bag harshly then and inclined his head to it. You stood up to get a better view of what was inside.
Your breathing hitched a little as you rifled through the contents of what he’d gotten you. Even when you'd asked him for this you hadn't expected him to put so much effort into it. In a weird way, it was quite touching.
“Anythin’ you wanna try, get it out and put it on the table,” he instructed. You picked out a silk blindfold, a pair of handcuffs and a paddle. You pushed some of the other things aside in the bag and saw a large black knife at the bottom. Your breathing hitched a little as you took it out, turning it in your hand as your mind ran away with itself. You glanced curiously to Billy then and his cool facade broke when a dirty smirk painted his lips, his eyes dancing with mischief and amusement. He raised one brow, almost in a challenging manner, goading you to see if you'd take the bait. You held eye contact with him as you set the knife on the table and he bit down on his lower lip as his eyes darkened.
You turned back to the things you'd gotten out then. You didn't want to overwhelm yourself and you really wanted to try these out. Suddenly Billy was pressed right up against you from behind and you felt like you couldn't breathe. He’d always smelt good but right now it seemed to be intoxicating and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
“What’re your thoughts on temperature play?” He purred down your ear, making you shiver. Your brain felt hazy with him being so close.
“I uh… I’d like to try it,” you mumbled, feeling like you were drunk or high or some shit. He growled and you felt him tense up behind you, but then his large hand was gripping your jaw and roughly turning it to the side to look at him leaning over your shoulder. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that shouldn’t have you so aroused but it did.
“Wanna try that again?” He asked in a low voice. You swallowed thickly, taking a shaky breath.
“I’d like to try, sir,” you replied softly, wondering if that was what he was after. He smirked almost smugly then, slightly mocking as his hand eased up but didn't let go. He leaned in closer and you felt your head spin.
“Good girl,” he praised. You were pretty sure your panties were soaked at this point and you almost purred at his praise. His chuckle made you think he was quite aware of how much you liked it. For a moment, he leaned even closer and you were pretty sure he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to. But then he moved away, a devilish smirk on his lips as he raised his brows at you. He was toying with you. The very visible bulge in his pants let you know this wasn't something he was doing because he felt like he had to since you’d asked. He was very much enjoying this.
“Bedroom, now. Get undressed,” He commanded firmly as he handed you the pile of items you picked.
“Yes, sir,” you squeaked, excitement gripping you so tight you could barely breathe as you scurried off to your bedroom. You blew out a large breath when you got in there, trying to stop your head from spinning. This new version of Billy was something else entirely and way more than what you thought it would be. You set the items on the nightstand, the knife lingering in your hand for a long moment. Knife play was one of the more dangerous kinks you'd been fascinated by but there was no way you'd trust anyone else with it. You turned the knife in your hand a little, admiring it.
“Thought I told you to do somethin’,” his growl from behind you startled you and the knife clattered to the nightstand. You whipped around to face him with wide eyes. He looked angry, but you knew better. Something was dancing behind his eyes that told you he very much enjoyed the fact he had a reason to assert his dominance over you. It shouldn't have thrilled you as much as it did.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you murmured softly, watching him as he stalked over to you. His hand darted out, gripping your jaw and making you look up at his dark eyes. You felt breathless.
“What did I say would happen if you didn’t do as you were told?” He asked roughly. You swallowed thickly, body running with a fine tremor.
“There would be consequences, sir,” you replied in a breathy voice. You noticed the way his eyes darkened a little and he stared at you for a long moment before letting go of your face.
“Hands and knees on the bed,” he ordered, his face like thunder as if waiting to see if you’d say no. You didn’t though. This was so far from vanilla and better than what you’d ever imagined. There was no way you were stopping this. You also wouldn't lie, seeing this version of Billy was intriguing and hormone inducing.
Your heart was hammering as you went over to the bed and got on your hands and knees. You felt slightly embarrassed presenting yourself to Billy of all people like this but you heard a soft groan when you arched your ass in the air and you bit your lip with a smile. Your oversized sleep shirt had ridden up a little and your small lace panties were now on display.
You glared at your sheets as you braced yourself for whatever might be coming your way. But then a sharp stinging erupted from your right ass cheek and you let out a mix between a surprised yelp and a moan. It hurt yet it felt good and you were confused but wildly turned on. It had felt cold and hard and you knew it wasn't his hand. It was the paddle.
But then his large warm hand smoothed over the stinging skin, soothing the burning there and you arched back at his hand unable to help yourself.
"You're gonna learn to be a good girl for me," you heard his rough voice from behind you.
"Yes, sir," you murmured instantly, like you were starting to be conditioned in your responses. He hummed, palming your ass for a moment, giving you ample time to say the safeword yet you didn't. You felt the second sting harder on your already sore flesh and you bit your lip with a moan. You lowered your top half, forehead pressing into the sheets as your thighs shook a little from how turned on you were. His hand once again soothed the skin afterwards and you pushed back at him.
The third smack was the harshest and you whimpered, fists bunching in the sheets as you felt the pain and pleasure shoot right through you. You hummed when his hand softly caressed the skin you knew would be red and then you felt him place a kiss to it and you smiled through your delirium. You felt the bed shift behind you and then his hand smoothed up your back over your shirt. You closed your eyes and relished in the feeling but then suddenly he had a fistful of your hair and he gave it a tug, making you moan. He was leaning over your body, looming over you as he leaned in near your ear.
"On your back, Y/N," his tone was commanding and low but he gave your neck a cheeky nip that was in contrast to the harsh grip on your hair. Your head was spinning. He let go and you wasted no time in rolling onto your back. You hissed a little at how sore your ass cheek was and you heard him chuckle darkly. Your eyes moved to him then and you saw the way his eyes dragged across your body as you lay there. You felt your cheeks heat up, basking in the way he seemed to drink you in. His eyes connected to yours then and he flashed you a slightly terrifying smirk. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he kicked off his boots and then pulled off his shirt. He kept on his camo pants as he moved to the nightstand.
You weren't sure what he'd grabbed but then he was straddling you and caging you in with his long legs either side of you. He dangled the blindfold in front of you and your breathing picked up in excitement. When your eyes met his again, you could see he was giving you another chance to back out. You didn't though. You closed your eyes for him and he carefully placed the blindfold on, tying it gently.
It was a strange sensation not being able to see. You felt vulnerable but you also knew you were safe with Billy. You had to rely on your other senses to figure out what was going on. He grabbed your wrists and put them above your head. You felt his thumbs softly swipe over them before you felt the cold metal of the handcuffs clip around one wrist. He tugged it closer to the headboard and you heard a noise before he pulled your other arm up and clipped the handcuffs around it. You tugged a little and realised he threaded them through the headboard, you weren't getting out of this anytime soon. You didn't want to.
You felt him move away from you and you felt the loss instantly. You listened to his quiet footfalls as he moved off the bed and you found yourself laying there in anticipation. The bed dipped again but then your legs were bent at the knee, legs parted and he settled between them.
"Stay still," he warned. You were unsure why until you felt cold metal dragging along your thigh. A soft moan left your lips and you concentrated on keeping your body completely still despite the desperate need to move.
The blade trailed up your body and under your shirt. You felt it gently glide up your stomach and up your sternum. Then his other hand pulled the shirt taut and you heard the material rip as he cut in right down the middle. The air felt cold as the shirt pooled at your sides, exposing your breasts. You heard a growl rumble from him and your chest was heaving. You felt him lean right over your body, his breath hitting your ear and making you squirm.
"So goddamn beautiful," he purred, making you whine a little.
"Sir… please, I wanna see," you pleaded softly, tugging at the handcuffs a little. You really wanted to see the knife. Wanted to watch him with it. You felt him lean up once more so you continued.
"Please, Lieutenant. Let me see," you begged desperately, not a care for how needy and wanton you sounded.
The blindfold was yanked up roughly and your eyes struggled to adjust for a second. You were startled when he gripped your jaw in his knife free hand and leaned right into your face.
"Say that again," he demanded, eyes wild and dark as he stared you down.
"Lieutenant please, I wanna see the knife," you murmured breathlessly. He groaned, closing the distance as he captured your mouth in a dirty kiss. The first kiss he'd given you all night. You moaned and melted into it, willingly letting him dominate your mouth with his tongue.
When he pulled away he was looking at you like it was the first time he was actually seeing you and all you could do was blink up at him dumbly for a moment. Then he was kneeling back up between your legs. Your eyes went to the knife as he twirled it in his hand. You bit your lip, eyes glued to it and he moved it back to your shirt. He sliced through the short sleeves so he could pull off the offending material and toss it across the room. His dark eyes were staring at where the knife was touching your skin, his lips parted a little. You took in the sight of him this turned on and felt something stir inside of you knowing it was you that was doing that to him.
Your eyes went back to the knife as you felt it gently trace down between the valley of your breasts and to your stomach. You couldn't look away as the blade slipped under one side of your panties, slicing through the lace with ease. He moved to the other side then and repeated the same motion. His free hand grabbed the ruined panties and tugged them away and you felt your cheeks heat up at how his dark eyes devoured the sight of you wet and spread wide for him. When his eyes connected with yours once more, they were intense and you almost forgot to breathe.
Then he was leaning over and tugging the blindfold back down and you whined softly at the loss of sight again. You heard him chuckle and then what sounded like the knife clattering on the nightstand again. Then he was up and off the bed and you were sure he'd left the room. You felt a sudden surge of panic despite knowing he just wouldn't leave you there like this. But you tugged on the handcuffs roughly as you wriggled around on the bed. The second you heard him come back into the room, you stilled completely.
Your breathing was erratic, excited and anxious as you bit your lip and waited to see what would happen. You were sure he was being this quiet on purpose. Billy loved to talk yet he was being pretty quiet as he went about doing whatever he was doing. You were sure it was to keep you on edge and it was working.
You felt him kneel back between your legs and you sucked in a breath of anticipation. You suddenly felt something hot drip onto your chest and you hissed a little, back arching at the sensation as it cooled. Hot wax, you mused. Nothing happened for a long moment but you didn't utter the safeword and eventually you felt it happen again. You moaned softly as you writhed, feeling it drip onto your breasts and stomach. You felt his large hand smooth up your stomach slowly and you arched up at his touch like you were needy for it. You wished you could see his face right now, see what he looked like as he did this to you.
He grabbed your right breast firmly and then you felt the hot wax drip onto it and on your nipple and you let out a louder moan as your back arched. The whole thing was so sensual and you'd never experienced anything like it. He hadn't even really touched you yet, not where you were aching at least.
You felt him shifting but he didn't move completely from between your legs. Your brain felt hazy from your arousal as you lay there helplessly and waited for whatever he had planned for you next. You gasped, body tense as you felt an ice cold sensation on your stomach. You mused he'd got some ice cubes from your freezer or something as you felt him slide it up your skin. You squirmed under the cold, squirming more as it trailed to your breast. He chuckled at how much you were moving and cursing under your breath when he circled your nipple with it.
The cold was removed then and the trail of water the ice cube left behind left a chill on your skin. It was nothing compared to the sensation of a freezing cold mouth suddenly sucking on your left breast though. His tongue was icy as he lapped at it and suckled on it greedily as your back bowed a little as needy moans left your lips. He moved away and you let out a whine, almost pouting and making him chuckle darkly at your needy reaction. But then he was placing ice cold open mouthed kisses on your lower belly and spreading your thighs wide open with his hands.
You had no words for the noise you made when he gave you a teasing lick from your entrance to your clit with his cold tongue. You arched up at him and gasped as he started sucking on your clit greedily with a moan. You tugged at the handcuffs, a strong urge to pull at his hair nagging at you. He had you gasping and your thighs shaking in no time but before you got right to the edge, he moved away.
"Whyyy?" You whined pitifully. A sudden but not too hard smack hit you right between your thighs and your exposed clit and you moaned in shock. You hadn't really expected being spanked there to turn you on, yet it really fucking did.
"Behave yourself, sweetheart," his tone was warning and rough and it only served to send another flood of arousal through you.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," you murmured quietly, chest heaving as your body felt like a string pulled taut.
"Good girl," he purred, his fingers dragging through your soaked folds and lazily circling your clit. You arched at his hand, needing more but not getting it.
"So wet for me, Y/N. Bet you're needy for my cock in you, aren't you?" You could hear his smirk and you knew it would be the menacing one from earlier.
"Yes, sir. Please," you begged, unashamed as you squirmed against his teasing fingers. He hummed as he slipped two inside of you and you gasped, mouth falling open.
He was still teasing, fucking you at painfully slow pace with them as you moaned and pushed back onto them more, making him groan.
"Beg for it, sweetheart. Tell me how much you want this tight pussy to take my cock," he demanded roughly.
"Billy, please. I don't want it, I need it. Please fuck me, just fucking destroy me," you pleaded wantonly. You figured your desperation was enough for him because he didn't punish you for using his name. In fact, he moaned at your words and his fingers suddenly left you. You felt him moving around, heard him unzipping his pants and practically rip them off rapidly.
Then you were gloriously full with a large and thick cock in one swift movement and you let out a keening moan that blended with his deep groan. His large hands gripped hold of your hips roughly as he started railing into you like his life depended on it. You'd never been fucked quite like this before and your whole body was jostling from the force of it. You were moaning like a bitch, the noises tumbling from your lips without consent but you didn't care. His own pleased noises only heightened your pleasure and your back arched as you met each thrust.
A dirty moan left his mouth and you felt him lean over you, felt the bed dip on your left side and then felt him lift your right leg and hitch it over his hip, spreading you even further. It seemed to make him go in deeper and you tugged at the handcuffs as you felt the need to find purchase on something as he fucked you at a savage pace. His moans were right in your ear now and you squirmed on his cock, making him growl and pick up his pace.
You were already teased beyond comprehension and your moans got higher and higher the closer you got. You felt like you were dangling on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the moment you went careening off the edge. Another hard and deep thrust later and you were free falling. Your moans seemed to bounce off the walls as your back arched so much you'd probably look possessed. The hand on your thigh moved to your throat then, slender fingers applying some pressure as he fucked you. A second orgasm snuck up on you out of nowhere with that and you cried out as you writhed on his cock. His fingers tightened around your throat a little as he rut into you harder, sinful moans turning into feral growls as his thrusts got more erratic
You were floating on cloud nine when he let out a deep groan, hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside of you. His body sagged, leaning on you a little as he rested his head on your shoulder. You'd never felt this thoroughly fucked before and you were sure your brain had melted. You whined softly when he pulled out of you and you felt him move around. You felt the pressure on your wrists release and then the handcuffs being removed. He kissed the skin there softly and you smiled sleepily to yourself. Then the blindfold was gently being pulled away from your face.
You hummed softly, forcing your eyes to open when you felt him lay down next to you. You squinted them as you blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the light once more. You rolled into your side to face him and you were sure you were glowing. He was already looking at you and he gave you a dopey grin, making you snort softly.
"Enjoy yourself?" He asked wryly. He had a slightly smug tone to his voice and you were sure it was because he knew damn well you did.
"That was… the best birthday gift ever. You're uh… really good at the whole… sex thing," you murmured with a stupid smile, brain still not quite working. Something flashed behind his eyes at your praise and his smirk widened.
"The sex thing, huh?" He asked, amused.
"Shut up, you fucked the brain out of me," you protested with a whine. He laughed, shaking his head as he moved to lay on his back.
You watched him, fully expecting him to get up and leave now he'd fulfilled what he came for. Instead, he shot you a smile as he pat his chest, raising a brow at you. You wriggled over to him before laying your head on his chest, curling around him. His arms came around you then making you feel safe and you smiled to yourself. He stroked your hair softly as your eyes fluttered closed.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he murmured sleepily. You hummed in response, already on the cusp of sleep after what he'd done to you. You had no idea if he'd be there in the morning and you'd worry about getting clean then too. Right now your body needed rest. You drifted to sleep feeling exhausted and like you were floating on a cloud.
Taglist:
(If you asked to be added but aren't here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people for some reason)
@sam-hollandsgirl
@xceafh
@ssll2200
@traditional-morrigan13
@juniebugg
@xonickibaby
@lillianastras
@aleksanderwh0r3
@i-g-n-o-r-e--m-e
@itsallaboutkey
@papiazullll8
@not-too-tall-for-trick
@dontjinx-it
@kaleidoscopegirl
@voyevoda-thejoy
@s-corpionem
@blanchedelioncourt
@elleatrixlestrange
@strawb3rrydr3ss
@odetostep
@crowssixof
@katedrexel
@primadonnasdream
@fortheloveofallthatsholy
@supernaturalcat7
@honeyshores
@tanyaherondale
@acourtofsnakes
@weallhaveadestiny
@tomhollandisabae
@carnationworld
@nemesis729
@advictedtohim
@lady4punk
@thesandbeneathmytoes
@kassandra-of-troy
@blackbirddaredevil23
@nebulastarr
@ilkaeliseb
@runawayolives
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Day 30: Dukexiety
Day 30 - When you look in the mirror, you can’t see your own reflection, just your soulmate. (Never heard of this prompt before, so I guessed)
Content warnings: maybe some anxiety? Just some wholesome for ya.
Word count: 1.5k
This ficlet is dedicated to @marshymoop.
Virgil was told he had brown hair; the color of a walnut. Sometimes if he grew it out long enough, he could just catch a glimpse of the color when it fell into his eyes. Apparently those were brown too.
A friend of his mom’s was an artist and had drawn him when he’d turned thirteen, but it hadn’t looked right. The face staring back at him from the canvas didn’t feel like his at all. He didn’t recognize the curve to the nose or the bags under the eyes; it just looked like a stranger. The more he looked, the more uneasy he felt, and he’d tucked it into the back corner of his closet, never to look at it again.
His reflection, where he’d seen the face of his soulmate since he was a baby, was far more familiar to him.
Black hair streaked with white.
Sharp green eyes.
A smattering of freckles over olive skin.
Sometimes it was odd, smearing makeup under eyes that weren’t technically his, and trying to fix hair that was shorter than what showed in the reflection, but it was a problem everyone had until they met their soulmate. He just hoped that the dark clothes looked as good on the real him as it did on his reflection.
---
Virgil was struggling to focus on the textbook paragraph in front of him when his phone chimed. It was a welcome distraction from the existential quandaries that came with Philosophy 103. Just a quick break, he promised.
Remus: heyyyyyyy
Aaaand there was that plan out the window. He couldn’t care less though, studying be damned, because now his heart was pounding and a nearly painful smile was stretching his cheeks. It had been a week since Remus had messaged him, and the pent up joy was all coming out at once.
You’re back! He replied amidst flapping hands. How was camping? His fingers hesitated over the keyboard.
I missed your messages. I missed you. I was lonely.
He said nothing.
Remus: i caught a squirrel. i couldn’t keep it though
Virgil: Did you name it at least?
That’s adorable. You’re adorable and a goof and amazing.
Remus: Yep. Squirrely Temple
A picture message showed up moments later, showing a surprisingly relaxed squirrel sitting in a styrofoam cup, a single peanut clasped in it’s little hands. The taker of the photo wasn’t visible, though that was to be expected.
The next one featured what Virgil assumed was the same squirrel, this time wearing a crudely constructed paper top hat. It held another peanut, and once again seemed shockingly unconcerned.
The photo was quickly replaced with a call screen and Virgil accepted it eagerly, still laughing.
“Did you see the squirrel?” Remus asked excitedly, to which Virgil could only laugh harder.
“Why is it in a hat?” He wheezed.
“I made it out of sap and a brochure I found. I think Squirrely Temple looked rather dapper.” The grin was evident in Remus’ voice.
“And you didn’t keep it?” Virgil inelegantly kicked his schoolwork off the bed to lay across it, grabbing his fidget cube from the side table.
“Nah, something about preserving wildlife and not having enough room at home,” he yawned, “Me an’ Roman gave him plenty of peanuts before we left though. A whole pile on a wood stump.”
“You sound tired,” Virgil teased. There was a small twinge in his chest at the idea of Remus going to bed already. He’d been off the grid for a week. Virgil was loath to admit, but he’d missed his friend more than expected.
“I think my body just sees an actual bed and the ‘tired’ protocol is,” Another yawn, “activated.”
Virgil yawned in tandem. “You should probably sleep, then.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice.
“Take your own advice, and I’ll consider. When’s the last time you got six hours of sleep?”
“Consecutively?”
Remus snorted. There was a whoosh of air as he dropped onto his bed, and a brief lull in the conversation before he spoke up. “I think I’d rather talk to you than sleep, actually.”
Damn, how was he supposed to respond to that? He pressed a cool hand to his reddening cheeks, glad the other couldn’t see him. “Wow, is that genuine emotion coming from Remus?” Virgil retorted instead. We can talk for hours if you want. I missed talking to you.
“My bad, I think I still have some fresh air in my system.”
God, he’d missed him. A single week had felt like a whole year without their constant interaction and updates throughout their days. They’d only known each other for months (had it only been months?) but in that time, talking to each other had become so ingrained in their lives, it seemed wrong to not wake up with his phone blown up from messages. It was so effortless, wasting hours away but feeling like no time had passed at all. It meant the world to Virgil.
And despite their jokes and snarky conversations, he had a feeling it meant a lot to Remus too.
It was as if he blinked, and the sun had set in the sky. The room had gradually turned dark as ink but Virgil couldn’t be bothered to flip on the lights, not when he was so captivated by Remus’ voice as he recounted his family camping trip. He didn’t notice nor care; this was more important.
Only when Remus’ yawns grew closer and closer together did it occur to him that the other was several hours ahead, blasted timezones. It would be early morning there.
“I think you should try to sleep,” Virgil grinned as Remus tried and failed to keep talking through another yawn.
“Maybe,” He sighed.
“Talk tomorrow?” For the first night in a bit, Virgil felt that same, familiar warm bubble in his chest.
“I actually had a question for you, first.”
Pop.
Remus sounded uncharacteristically nervous, putting Virgil on edge instantly. Everything he’d ever done wrong flooded through his mind. Oh god, how did he find out about the third grade Christmas concert?
“Do you want to vid chat?” He blurted.
Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.
“Like, tomorrow. Or not. It’s okay if not.”
Remus never stuttered. Something about it was unbelievably adorable.
“Just for fun, because we haven’t before, but if you don’t want to there’s no pressure-”
“Yes.”
All blubbering screeched to a halt on the other end, and Virgil couldn’t decide if his predominant emotion was anxiety or excitement. Besottedness, maybe? Either way, it made his face heat up to the tips of his ears and his feet wiggle.
“Yes?”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
“Okay!” Remus let out a relieved laugh that bordered on a giggle, “When?”
“I end classes at one tomorrow.”
The man murmured his way through timezone math for a moment. “Yeah! Yeah, okay! I can do that! Yes!”
Virgil bit his lip, but a laugh made its way through anyways. “I can’t wait.”
-----------
Whatever confidence Virgil had developed the day before, it had completely evaporated by the next morning. His mind wandered during classes, too busy coming up with worst case scenarios. What if the connection sucked? What if they spoke over each other and it was awkward? What if they had nothing to talk about and it got awkward? What if they weren’t compatible face to face? It added a whole new layer to their relationship they hadn’t explored before.
What if they weren’t friends by the end of it?
He was equal parts relieved and petrified when his final class ended and there was nothing between him and the call. The whole walk back to his dorm was spent watching the numbers on the clock tick by, each minute sending a rush of adrenaline through him until he was sure he’d collapse from nerves right there on the path way.
A text from Remus came through three minutes before their agreed time.
Remus: Ready?
NO, he wanted to scream. There were too many variables, they were leaving the comfort zone and that’s where Virgil thrived!
Virgil: 5 mins
He set up his computer and paced around his room for the remainder of his time. His eyes caught a blur of motion in the mirror and he turned to his reflection, his flapping hands slowing as he studied the face before him as he’d done hundreds of times before. Not his face, but the only one he knew as his.
A part of him was suddenly weighed by guilt as he looked into those bright eyes, because the guiltier part of him knew what he had was a crush. A helpless one, at that. And a hopeless one. What was the point pining after someone when the universe had already handpicked someone else for him?
Stupid universe and it’s stupid soulmates.
The chime of an incoming call startled him out of his reverie and he swore under his breath. He tried to soothe down his hair, rub the stress from his eyes, but it was hopeless when he couldn’t see if it actually looked okay.
He sat in his desk chair and took a few measured breaths before clicking accept. The video stuttered and glitched before it finally settled, and Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.
Black hair streaked with white.
Sharp green eyes.
A smattering of freckles over olive skin.
The silence stretched between them for achingly long before Remus beamed into the camera, and it was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen.
“Well, hello there, soulmate.”
Taglist:
@max-is-tired
@joylessnightsky
@marshymoop
#lywrites#tsshipmonth2020#virgil sanders#remus sanders#dukexiety#sanders sides soulmate au#soulmate september#ts soulmate au#sanderssides#sanderssidesfanfiction
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Circle of Love - Sobbe
30th July 2021
“Robin, look!”
“No, there’s no way..”
“Please...pretty please.”
Robbe let out a deep sigh and eyed his boyfriend’s large green eyes and adorable pouty lips, he couldn’t say no when Sander looked at him like that - it was near impossible.
The couple had decided to spend their Friday afternoon at a Funfair that was set up in their local park, to celebrate their 20 month anniversary which was technically yesterday, but they were both too busy to really celebrate. Walking around each attraction their hands clasped tight, they laughed in sync, bodies buzzing with alcohol in their veins.
Striped red and yellow tents were dotted around the park, each one containing a different amusement, the park was filled to the brim with friends and family, the sun shone bright and it really was the perfect day.
Sander had fed Robbe pink clouds of candy floss and with each bite he’d watch his lover lick the sugary confection from the sides of his mouth, missing a crystal or two.
Later on, Robbe had spent more money than he’d like to admit on ‘Hook a Duck’ but eventually won a plush shark toy which he gifted to his Bowie-loving boyfriend, earning him a sweet kiss to his cheek. Robbe watched lovingly as Sander immediately took the toy, hugging it close to his chest.
But now, as Robbe looked up at the Ferris Wheel that Sander so eagerly pointed out, it’s circumference alone sent shivers down his spine. It had bright neon lights that glowed at the entrance and the seats looked way too unstable to sit on. Nevertheless, one look at Sander’s pleading eyes and he was a goner.
“Okay, let’s go then.” Robbe gives in, trying to hide his nerves with a dimpled smile.
Sander let out a high-pitched squeal and dragged the smaller boy to the queue, he babbled on and on about how he’d love sitting right at the top watching the rest of the world below and how he loved how the air’s density decreased the higher the ride took him and how he felt ‘on top of the world.’ Robbe loved listening to Sander, he would often rewatch the lockdown walk videos he had sent him when they were unable to see each other, getting lost in his deep voice; it was like a lullaby.
Finally they paid for their tickets and stepped onto the metal platform and made their way to their seats, Robbe’s nerves increasing as the seat rocked slightly, he reached out and gripped Sander’s light denim jacket, fingers curling into the material like a lifeline.
Sander, who had stepped on with ease, chuckles and helps Robbe to his seat, a steady arm wrapped around his waist.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re fine Robbe.” Sander reassures, his warm breath hitting the side of Robbe’s face and travelling down the length of his neck.
“Dank je” Robbe whispers, as they sit side by side in their cosy carriage. Robbe’s eyes wandered along the ride, ensuring each screw was tight and the bar to hold them in went all the way down and locked into place.
On the other hand, Sander was bouncing with excitement as a worker came and checked they were buckled in securely, wishing the conductor would pull the lever and start the ride.
As if his mind had been read, the carriage swings back squeaking, evoking an endearing yelp from Robbe who has somehow gotten closer to Sander in their tiny seating area.
“Sander, oh my god, oh my god, we’re moving!” Robbe shrieks.
“I know! Isn’t this sick?” Sander places his large hand on Robbe’s thigh, squeezing from sheer joy, his toothy grin could be seen from miles away.
Slowly they drift through the air, catching sight of their friends below who waved and cheered in excitement. Robbe looks up at Sander, analysing his facial expressions, the way his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, the mole on the side of his face which Robbe would always kiss twice because ‘it’s extra special’ a thin layer of sweat shone from the tops of his cheeks, glowing like embers of gold; truly magnificent.
He loves him. He loves him wholeheartedly. Robbe would gladly step onto a million ferris wheels if it meant seeing Sander like this, so carefree, so joyous, so alive.
Sander turns to face Robbe, catching his stare, a radiant smile makes its way to his face, brighter than the stars. They had glided higher, still not at the highest point, but significantly higher, butterflies erupting in their bellies and Robbe had to stop himself from looking down.
“Baby, look out there, you can see the mural.” Sander points with his arm, his voice getting caught in his throat, emotion getting the better of him.
“I still can’t believe you did that.” Robbe says in awe, squinting a bit, seeing himself across the park on a big wall in intense colours. Sander’s declaration of love really was for all to see.
“Why? You’re so beautiful, everyone had to know.”
Robbe moves his eyes away from the mural to look at Sander, his chest filled with warmth, he reaches down and takes Sander's hand on his lap, slotting his fingers between the gaps - a perfect fit.
Their eyes don’t leave one another’s, green melting into brown, brown melting into green. It’s as if the rest of the world went on mute, and it’s just them two alone, on a ferris wheel, sharing the same love.
They don’t need words to communicate, they have longing looks, and the softest of touch; their souls are so intertwined, it would be paradoxical to try and tell them apart.
In the midst of their love-struck haze, their carriage had reached the very top of the wheel, halting to a stop, lightly swinging back and forth, the sudden momentum breaking their adoration.
“Happy 20 Month Anniversary, My Love.” Sander says, voice like melted honey, words ooze out of his mouth effortlessly, drawing Robbe in completely.
Robbe fixes his eyes on Sander’s mouth, the sides curling up into a grin, pearly teeth just peeking through. “Happy 20 Month Anniversary, My King.”
Sander uses his free hand to cup behind Robbe’s neck, fingers tangling in his auburn curls, bringing his love in for a heated kiss, head tilting, breathing out through his nose. Robbe kisses back with just as much passion, wrapping his lone arm round to hold onto Sander’s shoulder.
He's starting to understand why Sander loves being so high up, the atmosphere up here instantly eliminates the noise around them. A dingy carriage, on a rusty ferris wheel, at a funfair in the late afternoon. A haven for two.
**************************************************************************************************
This is dedicated to my favourite person @debussyatmidnight
Millie, my light, my love, where would I be without you? I love you so much and wish you the happiest birthday...<3
I know this is nowhere as good as the gifset you made me, but i promise, as soon as i learn how to create gifs - i’ll make you as many as you want xxx
love, aamana
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Idk about you but that trope where a giant gets angry and accidentally scares a tiny and feels bad abt it afterwards makes me go absolutely feral,,
So, originally, I was planning for this scene to be in a future chapter of This Is Nothing Like The Disney Star Wars Trilogy, but I could never really think of a full story arc around it, even though I still really really really love this idea. In any case, if I happen to brainstorm a better plot and find a way to squeeze this in I might edit it into the main story, otherwise enjoy some classic Giant Catboi and Twink Solider fearplay >:3c
--
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!?”
As expected, the little one did not respond to his rhetorical question, though his tone certainly helped snap it out of its previous stupor as it released its death grip on his shirt in favor of squirming as soon as the bedroom door slid shut behind him. His aggravation at the situation was clear as day even without the usual language and cultural barrier that impeded any sort of deeper relationship Edix tried to form with the human. Red ears were still folded back against his curls and his shoulders tense, the stiff posture traveling down to his hands were they gripped the earthling to his chest perhaps just a touch more tightly than usual, not that it prevented it from trying to push and wriggle itself out of his overprotective hold.
Fuck no, he wasn’t ready to let it go yet, not when flecks of blood were still smeared against his knuckles as a result of an impromptu rescue mission. The satisfying snap of cartilage under his fist after one good sucker punch to Talan’s smug face still echoed in his mind, blood gushing from the surely broken nose while the biologist stumbled backwards into the shelves. Edix wondered if he would be reprimanded for that by the directors later, or if Talan would be too proud to report the ass kicking, maybe even taking the lesson to heart to not fuck with his things in the future. And yes, that included trying to vivisect his sweet little pet.
How was I supposed to know the stray belonged to you? He had asked with sarcastic innocence, as if the human in question hadn’t been seen with Edix a thousand times before, and wasn’t drenched in his scent, and didn’t have his ID code printed on the back of its little suit, Maybe if you weren’t such a wuss and actually put it on a shorter leash-
Asshole. He was lucky Edix’s only goal at the moment was to get the little one off the table and back to the appropriate sector rather than rip Talan to shreds with his own tools. A taste of his own medicine, perhaps. Still, he admittedly did have a point about the human, what with how much it would run off and get lost and damn near killed. He simply couldn’t figure out what was so terrible about staying in his company that the little one would risk injury and mutilation in a foreign environment as opposed to the safety and comfort he so desperately tried to provide for it. They might have had a bit of a rocky start, sure, but stars above that was far in the past now. There’s nothing either of them can do to change the facts so why not accept things as they are and make some type of effort to be happy in this new life? By all accounts, Edix was a great owner!
And yet, the little one still fought him every step of the way. Even now, having just saved it from a fate of having its tiny organs sliced while it was wide awake, it made it known it did not want to be near him anymore. It might have been clinging to him the entire walk back to the bedroom, but it must have remembered it was supposed to be oblivious to the notion of genuine love and safety because now it started to stutter out little squeaks on top of struggling. Normally, Edix adored any and all of the sounds it made, especially when it was directly trying to talk to him which only served to give him the mental image of a pup mindlessly babbling before they managed their first few words. This time, however, it only worsened his irritation.
“Stop.” He ordered, which the human somewhat complied with, though it probably had more to do with his harsher tone and the fact that he was already lowering his hand towards the bed to set it down. As soon as it was free of his hold, it scrambled back, looking at him with those wide brown eyes that were full of so much fear it made him sick. Why did it have to be so afraid of him? What could he have possibly done that even now, almost a cycle later, it was still overtly wary of his intentions. All he ever did was care for it. Feed it, pet it, cuddle it, protect it, and still nothing was good enough!
With a tired sigh, he rubbed his hand down his face and resisted the urge to tug at his hair. “I just don’t understand,” he pleaded, begging some cosmic being out there to suddenly grant the little one the power to understand what he was saying, “what can I possibly do to prove to you that I’m not going to hurt you? I’m trying to keep you alive and it’s like...I don’t know, you resent me for that or something!”
The sweet thing looked more confused at his words than anything, but he could tell his body language and voice were making it uneasy. The human was used to soft words and purrs and slow movements, rarely any agitation in his being. After a beat of silence marked by an intense stare down, Edix gave up on hoping the earthling would miraculously explain itself and open up to sharing its thoughts on the matter. He reached for it and it instinctively back up, flinching when a growl rumbled in his throat in response.
“Stop running,” it was a fruitless endeavor, but like hell if he wouldn’t stop trying. That was how new pups learned how to understand a language anyways, wasn’t it? To repeat certain words over and over until they got the idea? Maybe that’s all he needed to do here, maybe by now it already knew the Venandi words for no, stop, be good, and so on. He reached for it again and it did the same thing as last time, always sure to stay just out of the most convenient reach. Not that it mattered how much it inched away seeing how it was trapped on the bed with Edix directly in front of it, but it was the principal of the matter.
And it was then that something inside him snapped. Something primal as a result of dealing with an unruly pup far too long for his nerves to handle at this moment. He wasn’t even aware of his actions, belatedly realizing how he pounced on the bed in a flash, the human scrambling to get away but only having enough time to turn around before being roughly pinned on its stomach against the mattress. His teeth were bared and pressed tightly against its back, fangs scraping against the layers of its clothes to no doubt bruise the tender flesh underneath, though thankfully they didn’t break the skin. A loud growl reverberated though its entire body, shaking it to its core.
“Enough.” He hissed against its back, keeping his teeth pressed into its skinny frame for a moment longer before pulling away. The second he did, his glare softened, all the anger he felt gone in an instant as soon as he saw the sight underneath him.
The poor thing was absolutely petrified.
It was probably the worst it’s ever been scared, arguably. Not even the first time they met, when it had so gracefully tumbled down that hill and landed face first in front of him, compared to the level of fear that radiated off it. A split-second thought had Edix wondering if he had legitimately scared it to death. Soon enough, though, he was able to pick up the minute tremors that shook through it, almost like an aftershock of the warning that it felt more than heard. It was pale, baby face devoid of color not unlike that time before when it had been sick with fever. But its eyes...those sweet little doe eyes he loved so much were wide and wet with a sheen of tears that refused to fall, locked in a blank stare straight ahead towards the wall and refusing to look at him.
A small, choked hiccup made its body twitch every couple of breaths, but it refused to open its mouth to allow any of these sniffles to turn into cries. Shit, it refused to move at all, too terrified of Edix’s threat display that if it did anything he didn’t like there would be dire consequences to pay. He supposed it worked exactly as intended, in that case. It was still, it was quiet, it was technically obeying him after he just forced it to behave via alternative punishment. That didn’t change the fact that he felt absolutely, terribly, extremely awful about what he just did.
It was just a pup, as he always said, regardless of what Ylva would tell him about human adolescence and such. It didn’t know any better, it had never been raised in these situations before and needed much longer than a measly cycle to unlearn all of its prey behaviors it needed to survive on its home planet. Besides, it wasn’t that it didn’t fully know that it was perfectly safe with Edix, it was smart enough to know he was at the very least the safest option when presented with any other Venandi. Edix had been upset, and it knew he was upset, so of course it would want to avoid a potentially hostile predator before-
--before it snatched the little one in its teeth.
Fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. Maybe he wasn’t as cut out for this as he thought, not like Ylva who was the very essence of motherhood. No. Now wasn’t the time for self doubts and pity, not when the human was in such a state. Slowly, hands cupped around its shaking form, mindful to make sure his fingers were in its view so it wouldn’t be any more startled when he lifted it up, not that he was completely sure it was actually seeing anything in front of it. The little one hardly reacted to the movement, laying limp when he pressed it against his chest and moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed in a similar fashion to what he had done the first night the poor thing was on the ship.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” he whispered to it, rubbing his thumb along the curve of its back just how it liked whenever it dozed, “you’re okay, we’re fine, it’s okay to cry. I’m sorry I scared you, I’m so sorry.”
Normally in these types of instances, he’d be purring and shushing the little sweetheart until he was able to get it down for a nap, but he had little confidence that any other types of chest vibrations would have its usual effect of making the human drowsy currently. When it finally started blinking again, the tears that had welled up ran freely down its cheeks, quickly biting down on its wobbling lip to prevent any sobs from escaping and get it in trouble for misbehaving. He softly clicked his tongue at it and cooed, anything to put it at ease with a softer demeanor. “I know, honey, I know. I won’t ever do that again, I promise."
Well, if nothing else, at least the little one’s apprehension of him wasn’t unfounded anymore, much to his dismay.
#g/t#fearplay#g/t writing#g/t fearplay#giant/tiny#macro/micro#my writing#ask#anon#g/t ocs#all i can say is :3c#also i didnt skip math class i skipped english class instead hsjfhdfjhfjjsf
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You Know Who I am
Tony Stark X Reader
Word Count: 2,741
Summary: Y/N a stripper who has a day job at Stark Industries and her boss pays her a pretty generous visit
Author's Note: Even though this is my first fanfic it will have 4 parts, hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Part 2 is on it's way soon.
I look up at myself in the mirror, eyes heavy from the weight of my lashes, dark, smokey.. yet sensual. Lips plump and red, a deep red nothing too bright.
I take a moment to glance at the room around me, girls in and out the velvet curtain, changing clothes, spraying perfume and adding last-minute glitter. I look at my phone to check the time 12:46am.
“Hot date tonight?” I hear from my left, I don’t need to turn to see who it is, most of the girls here don’t talk to me, except for Siren. Not her real name of course, but I guess when you have a real-life outside of this you don’t want anyone to know it. I don’t blame her.
I set my phone down and look at her with a gentle smile and turn to the bag I keep under my station between rounds, pulling out my book to read. I can feel Siren’s breathe over my shoulder. “Just some light reading?” She asks.
I laugh lightly “The lightest I’ve read in a while actually.” I smile to myself as I run my fingers over the title on the cover of Quantum Physics and Theories of the Mind.
“Don’t want to spoil it for you” she said scooting back a bit with her hands up feigning surrender.
I smile again, I forgot I actually like her sense of humor “It’s okay,” I look up from the cover, “I already know the ending.”
Before any more words can be exchanged, I hear my stage name being called by the house mom. “Bambi, you’re up sweets!”
“Thank you, Cassandra!” I place my book back in its place and grab my money bag turning to Siren one last time, “Why don’t we ever hang out, outside of here?”
“Because you’re too busy being a smart ass in the real world,” Siren says with a smile.
I wink at her before walking through the velvet curtains where it is almost pitch black, except for the neon lights circulating the room and spotlights on the main stage. I scan the crowd as I listen to my heels click on my way up to the DJ booth. A number of regulars and just as many new faces but the back of one man’s head stood out. I couldn’t quite place it at the quick glance that I got, but he was sitting front and center so it wouldn’t be long before I figured it out.
A dancer by the name of Scarlett was finishing up and I gave the DJ my song. He looked and me and shook his head laughing “You never fail to surprise me” I smile and look back at the stage to see Scarlett doing her best and receiving money from plenty of customers, but she was focused on one, and he looked like he couldn’t care less. Front and center with a profile that could kill, elbow on the arm of his seat with his head in his hand and his sunglasses pointlessly resting on the bridge of his nose. And then it hit me, not only was he like the richest man alive; he was also, indirectly speaking, my boss. Tony Stark.
I had only briefly met him once after my orientation at Stark Industries, so I wasn’t worried about being recognized. It was the fact that he was the man I wanted to wake up to every morning to study his brilliant brain. Now that, that did the trick. I felt heat spread through my body starting at my core and working its way to my neck. I rubbed the back of my neck as I shook off the nerves. I got this, just another customer, just one with a lot more money than most.
As the music faded from Scarlett’s song, I watched her pick up her money and try and shove it in her bag. The DJ started talking to the crowd and hyping up Scarlett as she walked around collecting some final tips. She got on her knees in front of Mr. Stark and leaned in real close. Without a single change in his demeanor, he pulled a single bill from the inside of his suit jacket and handed it to her between his middle and index finger, as if he was trying to shoo her away. But even I could see it was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. She looked at the bill offended and snatched it from his fingers before finishing her way around the stage. Once she was done, she passed me with a huff, practically cussing the billionaire out as she exited the stage to the back with her bag overflowing with money from the other customers. Something about being a ‘cheap micropenis douche who wouldn’t be able to appreciate a good dance if it hit him in the face. I shook my head pushing the waves of my hair over my shoulder as the DJ started to introduce me.
“If you thought Scarlett was good let the bar know and you might be able to get a private dance before she leaves tonight. But you might not want to leave just yet because next, we have our very best. A woman who can turn any type of music into your new favorite song. Here to prove it once again, the seductress herself, Bambi!”
I laugh to myself at the length of his introduction, but it’s true I like a challenge and today I picked a song that I normally wouldn’t have. “Back in Black” by AC/DC started playing and I couldn’t help but notice a certain man in the front’s ears begin to perk up at the first couple of notes. Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me but I swear I even saw him sit up a little straighter.
I took confident, sexy strides towards the front of the stage and swayed my hips in a circle once I got in front of the pole. I held it as I circled it scanning the crowd. I dropped my hips and rose sensual making my ass bounce to the beat before turning my back to the pole and rolling my hips. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Stark lean forward in his chair hands clasped, elbows on his knees. He was invested and I wanted to give him a show.
I started to climb the pole and as I did, he slid his sunglasses off his face, looking directly into my eyes, staring deep into my soul with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. But I knew tonight I wouldn’t get to see the pain or trauma he’s overcome through his eyes because tonight, they were filled with lust.
Lust, passion..Possession.
As I slid down the pole his eyes never left my body. I gracefully landed on the floor and crawled to the edge of the stage. I turned to lay on my back letting the waves of my hair cascade off the edge, I arched my back looking straight at him. In a swift motion, almost a blur, my view was clouded by the storm of papers falling from the sky. Now standing directly over me with his hands firmly pressed against the stage on either side of my face. As lay there on my back I realized what just happened. I just made a billionaire rain hundreds upon my body and his face hovering over mine, was him making his claim on me for the night.
I sensually brought myself back to my knees slightly rolling in the thick layer of money that covered the stage. I twirled my ass in a way I know would make anyone weak and I didn’t have to look back to know he was all in. Crawling my way back to the pole using it to stabilize myself as I try to stand, simultaneously trying not to trip on the stage that I couldn’t see anymore. Now this wasn’t my first time getting rained on at the club, however when I looked down, the most notable difference between now and any other time it’s happened was that it was normally a slew of ones, maybe some fives, occasionally a couple stray twenties. But this... was all hundreds. Strictly Benjamin’s scattered across the whole stage to the point you couldn’t see anyone else’s money that was thrown during my set. I’m definitely going to need a bigger money bag.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
Three trash bags, four security guards and five songs later, I just about collected all the money Mr. Stark threw for me. Now usually, we don’t get help picking up our money, unless it’s a VIP room shared by three or more dancers. However, because of the sheer amount of money and the fact that I was the club’s best dancer, they played favorites tonight. Not to mention girls from the back started to pick up bills that had overflowed from the stage onto the floor. Even some of the customers started pocketing some of the cash and honestly, could you blame them?
I immediately gave the bags of money to our house mom so she could cash me out for the night, but as I handed her my bags she told me I had a VIP room and she would put the bags in her safe until I was done. My heart sped up a bit as I hoped it was the very generous billionaire, but what are the odds that he would get a VIP room with me right after throwing a million dollars at me, literally. Technically I could’ve turned it down, I mean I definitely made more than enough money tonight, but part of me wanted to see who it was.
I touched up my makeup, ran a brush through my hair and freshened up a bit before changing my heels to a more comfortable black pair. As I walked through the curtains to the main floor, I could see Siren on stage dancing to “Body Party” by Ciara. I took note that the front row seat was occupied by another man. My heartbeat quickened as I turned towards the VIP rooms down the hall.
The closer I got I could hear the voice I dreamed of waking up next to. I took a deep breath primped my hair and opened the door to the room. His back was turned to me as he talked into his phone. He seemed unamused and inconvenienced. I took the moment to admire his figure as he hung up, not noticing my presence yet. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair, oh how I’d love to lace my fingers through those tresses, before throwing his phone at the coach.
“I heard you were looking for a private dance,” I say as I entering the room further making my presence known.
Unfazed by this discovery, he turned around with that signature smirk. All doubt and suspicions placed aside I was standing in front of the Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist himself, Tony Stark.
“And I heard you were the best,” taking a step closer to me.
“Depends on who you ask,” mimicking his actions.
“I trust my sources,” he said looking me up and down “, they’ve never failed me before.”
“Once or twice is not never,” I scoffed remembering the time my team had to cover a minuscule mistake in one of the details for a new clean air prototype we were working on that could have cost the company millions because one of his “sources” said it looked good enough.
“What are you-” I cut him off, closing the distance between us and reach for his tie to play with between my fingers. The way the fabric felt between my fingers let me know it was no clip-on, job interview tie. It was probably custom-made and imported from France or something ridiculous like that.
“So are we going stand here and banter or did you want that dance. Or was that an excuse to get me alone?”
“You better watch yourself, princess”
“Oh,” I tilted my head to the side challenging his very existence “, or what?”
“You know who I am.”
“Hmm, so maybe I do, but we have rules here,” I push him back on the couch “, Sir.” I smirk before climbing on him and straddling his lap placing my hands on his chest on either side of his arc reactor. I feel him tense slightly as I touched his chest, maybe an insecurity. I scanned his eyes, easily reading everything that fed into my suspicions. He looked as if I would turn and run in fear that he was some sort of monster, at any second just because it was there. I bring one of my hands to his cheek and stroked it in reassurance, silently letting him know I wasn’t going anywhere and not just because he was paying me to be here. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and regained his cockiness. All traces of the vulnerable moment we shared gone as I slid my hand down his neck to rest on his shoulder.
“So, it looks like I’m getting my dance after all,” he said running his hands up my thighs and resting them on my hips.
I started to roll my hips in circles, biting my lip so I wouldn’t enjoy the touch of his hands on my bare skin too much, “It would appear so.”
“What does a girl like you know about AC/DC?”
“I’m offended Mr. Stark, a girl like me?” I grabbed the hair at the base of his neck pulling lightly, tilting his head back. He groaned as I rolled my hips harder for emphasis.
“That’s not what I—fuck.”
I smiled as he squeezed his eyes shut, admiring the twisted expression his face held. I took the hand that was resting on his chest up his neck to his face running my fingers over his lips, they parted instinctively, before cupping his cheek and leaning in close to his ear whispering, “Mr. Stark I’m afraid you know nothing about me and the type of girl I am.”
His hands slid further up my waist gripping me tightly. At least I’d have a couple bruises to remember him by. He opened his eyes and for the split second I saw them, they were pitch black. He growled slightly pulling me into the most animalistic, passionate kiss I have ever shared with anyone. Quick to reciprocate, I wrapped both my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers in his hair, desperately trying to grasp on to any bit of sanity I had left. He bit my lip asking me for the permission that I granted him oh so quickly and without hesitation. He moved swiftly and his presence was so strong I was intoxicated by his scent, he was everywhere and nowhere at once, flooding my senses with everything that was him. I pulled away reluctantly needing to catch my breath. It came out in gasps, but he didn’t miss a beat sliding down to my neck feverishly, desperate to have my flesh between his lips.
“Mr. Stark,” I moaned.
“Call me Tony,” he said.
“I-I can’t,” I gasped, fighting another moan.
“Why not, princess?” barely letting his lips leave my neck even for a second, not seeming fazed by my answer. I could feel the smile on his lips, I couldn’t give in.
“I just, I can’t tell you.” Whatever spell he had me under was about to have me sleep with my boss without him even knowing he was my boss. Not that it wouldn’t be consensual but I still wouldn’t want to raise any problems at work.
He hummed against my neck and licked from the base of my throat to my ear then peppered kisses back to my lips before saying, “You’re trying to hide something from me, but I’ll figure it out.” He started to stand and I slid off of his lap still in his tight embrace. He leaned down kissing the corner of my mouth and whispered in my ear, “You know who I am,” and with that, he straightened his jacket grabbed his phone and left the room.
There I stood lipstick smudged, high off the intoxicating drug that was Anthony Edward Stark.
#tony stark#iron man#tony stark has a heart#robert downey jr#rdj#rdj x reader#tony stark x you#tony stark x reader#fanfic#mcu#you know who i am
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Okay, two questions for you today. Both about Rockstar!
1. The other day you said that you were glad you didn’t read Daisy Jones and The Six before writing When Stars Ignite. How do you think the story would’ve changed if you had?
2. Please, can you have a quick ramble about the Icarus series?
The shared brain cell is strong and I love it 💛
The other day you said that you were glad you didn’t read Daisy Jones and The Six before writing When Stars Ignite. How do you think the story would’ve changed if you had?
So, the thing with me and reading good books is that it nourishes my impostor syndrome (we all have it, right?), and not only a bit, but to the point that it takes away my ability to express myself.
If you remember, I had the most trouble writing WSI when I binged the Saga on the side and completely lost grip of my own style because I wanted to write like you do so badly. That's also the reason why I either write OR read like a maniac and nothing in between.
Now, Daisy Jones & The Six hits obv in exactly the same vein as WSI did. I didn't know the book at the time, but you did, so you know what I mean. And I think had I read the book during that time/before it, I would have felt so disheartened and so pressured to deliver something just as good, that I would have tried too hard to make WSI into Daisy Jones and Lizzie and Orion into Daisy and Billy. I couldn't have written a story existing in the same genre but in its own right. I would have lost its voice and its integrity, and that really would have made me sad beyond words.
Please, can you have a quick ramble about the Icarus series?
You just always know what I want to talk about SO badly.
Icarus has been on my mind from the moment we knew where WSI would take Jason Everett and how he would be written from the story. I was aware that everyone would hate him, but maybe I underestimated the amount of just how much.
If I have one toxic trait, it's sympathising with the characters everyone hates despite knowing better, so the idea of giving Ev something of its own became more prominent in my head.
Icarus is just that, a story trying to tell things from Ev's POV. I wouldn't say it's a redemption arc because what he did was shit, hands down, but I do hope that it serves as an explanation of how he got to rock bottom and what happened with him after. I want people to understand that Jason Everett wasn't always a drug-addicted piece of shit, for lack of a better word, and even at his lowest point, there were reasons and layers to him that we just didn't get to see in WSI because it wasn't his story.
I want to give him his story. I hope that when people read it, they will maybe not forgive him or feel sorry for him, but see that the world is never black and white and that even Ev isn't 100% rotten to the core.
Also, on a more technical side, since the book Daisy Jones & The Six gave me the final push to finalise the concept and map it out, I want to give that credit and have been toying (more than toying) with the idea of breaking up my usual 3rd person-writing style and try for 1st person. Someone whose judgment I value above anyone else's told me it may very well be a good idea 💛
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KanSang Week Day 07 Victory
Pairing: Kan Jian/Liu Sang (future), Pangzi/Piaopiao (background/established)
Genre: fluff, school festival (canon ish universe) Tropes: getting together, (background?) found family, school festivals, Liu Chang and Waer Liu Sang and Kan Jian: Babysitters extraordinaire Special spotlight thief Guest Star: Xiao Mei Word Count: 1,400 ish
-
Kan Jian and Liu Sang looked at the mountain of clay before them. Clay was no stranger to either of them, over many years and various dig sites, they'd both become familiar with clay. Digging it, crawling through it, clambering over it.
But this... this was not their expertise.
“It's okay if you aren't any good at making pots,” Xiao Mei said, but even Kan Jian could hear the sadness in her voice.
Three tables over, halfway across the room, another girl looked over at them, a smirk on her face.
“Oh, A-Mei, haven't you started yet?” The tone was saccharine and mocking. “My parents and I are making great progress, you don't want to fall behind and not make the judging.”
Kan Jian leaned down, turning a little to hide his mouth and whispered, “I can totally wreck their pots if you need me to, no one will be able to prove it.”
Xiao Mei shook her head, fists clenching.
“Even if we lose to her, we'll do it fair and square.”
Liu Sang scoffed quietly, “I'm pretty sure that damn Fa- uh, that your dad would be with Kan Jian on this one.” Xiao Mei looked up at him in consideration, but nodded in agreement.
“Mum wouldn't, not over a school festival,” she said at last, “we'll just have to try our best.”
“Right,” Kan Jian agreed readily, but like Xiao Mei, he didn't move to start shaping the clay.
“You know, when Pangzi asked us to go with you today, he only did it because we were the ones available,” Liu Sang said while he rolled up his sleeves and began getting ready to deal with the clay. “But you actually got a bit lucky, I use listening urns in my work, and my teacher actually taught me the art of making them. Allegedly to better appreciate them as well as to know how to find good quality ones... or replace them if I was clumsy enough to break one.”
Xiao Mei looked at Liu Sang with new hope.
“Let me show you what to do?” Liu Sang asked the pair.
-
Xiao Mei hadn't been sure about her dad's friends, she'd been hoping her mum and dad (her awesome new one, not her mean old one) would be able to come with her to the school festival, so they could take part in the family competitions together, but so far her new big brothers were really cool.
They hadn't really come first at anything yet, and she could tell it was annoying Sang-ge, but they were placing second and third in most of the events, so technically they were 'overall' winning.
Xiao Mei wasn't really looking for first place, any placement was fine... as long as it was better than Feifei's. Feifei was the worst, she'd teased Xiao Mei about not having a 'normal family unit' since, well, for as long as they'd known one another.
So beating Feifei wasn't just a personal mission, it was justice, for all non-nuclear families out there.
Also it would be so satisfying.
-
“- which is how you figure out the best angle for the balloons on the fly,” Kan Jian finished, looking away from the special slingshots they were to use as water balloon launchers, to make sure Xiao Mei and Liu Sang understood.
It was the last event of the day, the water balloon fight. Each family unit was to be hidden in an identical cardboard base with a supply of water balloons. The goal was to wreck someone else's base before theirs was destroyed.
It was also their last chance for an Event based First Place.
Xiao Mei looked determined, a fire in her eyes. Liu Sang was watching Kan Jian with approval in his eyes.
“We have ten minutes left to decorate our bases,” Xiao Mei reminded her big brothers, “and to reinforce the cardboard if we want. Should we get started?”
“How are they reinforcing the cardboard?” Kan Jian asked, looking around at the other nearby families.
“By gluing on additional cardboard layers,” Liu Sang told him, a smirk growing on his face, “with wet glue.”
Kan Jian grinned back, “we have wax crayons to colour don't we?” He looked at Xiao Mei, “orders laoban?”
Xiao Mei looked back and forth between the two men, confused at first, then she joined their smiling as she realised what their words meant.
“Colour everything, start with the weakest points, no glue allowed.”
-
Two minutes to go, Liu Sang leaned in close to Xiao Mei.
“Young girl with the blue hair ties,” he murmured, “doesn't like that girl you want to crush, what do you think about an alliance?”
Xiao Mei nodded, “I'll be back in a minute.”
-
The battlefield was a circle of cardboard bases, and theirs was the most colourful one on the field. That was fine, because theirs was also the driest. The wet glue hadn't dried as quickly as people thought it would.
More importantly, Feifei was directly across the circle from Xiao Mei and her brothers. Feifei would be the first to fall.
The starting whistle blew and the air filled with flying waterballoons.
Three flew from their base across the way to Feifei's. Xiao Mei's first shot fell short of the target, dashing across the concrete. She didn't miss her second.
-
Receiving the first place ribbons for the Water balloon fight and the Overall scores, was actually the second best feeling of the day for Xiao Mei. The best was hearing her dad's loud applauding and cheers along side her mum's slightly quieter cheering as Xiao Mei closed her hands around the ribbons.
She waited long enough to be polite before leaving the award area and flinging herself at her dad for a hug. Her mother was still sore from her accident and recover, even after two months.
“We won,” she told her parents, aware they'd seen the award ceremony.
“Good job,” her mum told her, pressing a kiss to Xiao Mei's hair.
“Glad those two didn't hold you back,” her dad said cheekily.
Liu Sang scoffed from nearby and proceeded to ignore Pangzi.
Xiao Mei started telling her parents all about the day, several sentences in she paused and turned to call her brothers over to help, but stopped at the sight of them.
They both looked nervous and on edge. Xiao Mei and her parents, when they noticed what had caught her attention, shamelessly eavesdropped.
“-and I was just wondering if you wanted to get ice cream with me, later,” Liu Sang asked, his hands worrying the hem of his shirt.
Kan Jian looked devastated, a slow dawning of grief emerging across his face.
Liu Sang didn't move much, but somehow he looked like a turtle retreating into its shell, “it's fine if you don't want t-”
“I'm lactose intolerant,” Kan Jian cut Liu Sang off.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Liu Sang's brows scrunched, “they have dairy free at the place I wanted to go, if that...” Liu Sang looked tentative, too scared to be hopeful, but Kan Jian smiled and nodded.
“Awesome, I'd be happy to go with you, I just have to be careful cause not all the ice cream places do dairy free.”
Liu Sang steeled himself.
“Just to be clear, I'm asking you out on a date. With me.”
Kan Jian laughed and reached out to take Liu Sang's hand, “oh good, I was hoping that was what was going on here.”
Quietly Pangzi cheered and told his girlfriend and daughter, “just won a bet with Xiazi, he reckoned it would take them another few months to work it all out... just lost a bet with Xiao Bai, I thought it would be Kan Jian to make the first move.”
“You bet on us?!”
“Don't use your hearing to eavesdrop on good and decent people!”
“Eh? Who's decent? Not you!”
Kan Jian used Liu Sang's distraction to thread his and Liu Sang's fingers together.
“My boyfriend,” Kan Jian said, barely audible, just to test it out. Liu Sang heard it of course and flushed bright red.
Piaopiao laughed, leaning against Pangzi, “alright, how about you boys come with us for a victory dinner? To celebrate your win, and as thanks for being here on our behalf.”
Xiao Mei and Kan Jian cheered, Liu Sang... continued to blush.
#dmbj#lost tomb reboot#tltr#reunion: the sound of the providence#kan jian#liu sang#xiao mei#kansang#kansang week#I didn't think we I was going to do one today#but somehow here we are#yay? i completed the week?#shipweeks are hard#my last attempt at one was in 2011
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KW 2021: Role Swap
Day 4 for Kataang Week 2021 hosted by @kataang-week with the prompt Role Swap!
This is taken more in a figurative sense- rather than Katara being the Avatar and Aang her teacher, I wanted to shift their relationship dynamics and just add some pregnancy fluff of course, so enjoy!
Links: FF.net | AO3
Summary: Another year, another summer, another week of prompts celebrating our favorite couple. Kataang Week 2021 Day 4: Role Swap. Expansion upon the Yin/Yang oneshot from KVB 2021. During Katara’s first pregnancy, an interesting change in dynamics occurs.
Word Count: 2.6K
Aang let out a groan as a beam of sunlight shone through the glass window directly onto his face, promptly waking the airbender up. He rubbed his groggy eyes, yawning as his senses awakened, and rolled over onto his side, arms expecting to find his wife’s form peacefully resting next to him.
“That’s weird,” he frowned. Aang patted the empty space again, reaching farther across the bed this time. Nothing.
Aang was naturally quite an early riser, far more so than Katara, and it had become routine for them to cuddle for an hour or two in the mornings before properly getting ready for the day. So where was she?
With a short blast of air from his hands, Aang propelled himself upright so that he was standing on the hard, cold, stone floor of the Air Temple. He closed his eyes in concentration, blocking out all other sounds and sights to focus on the vibrations under his feet.
Aang muttered to himself, eyebrows knitted, “She’s not on this floor… not in the temple at all actually, so where- the spring? What’s she doing there so early?”
Wanting to know what his dear wife was up to, the airbender quickly grabbed some blankets from the cupboard (early mornings on the island tended to be quite chilly) as well as some moon peaches from the kitchen and made his way through the temple corridors until he was standing outside, his natural element instantly surrounding him with a refreshing cool breeze.
“Ah,” Aang sighed, taking a deep breath. He basked in the sun’s rays for a few moments, eyes closed as the sounds of birds chirping and the distant crashing of waves onto the shore filled his ears and relaxed his senses.
Then, remembering why he came out in the first place, the airbender began trekking uphill to the west side of the island, resuming his search for Katara.
In their early days of exploring, the waterbender had discovered a secluded stream hidden in the forest that cascaded into the sea if you followed it far enough. It also had a few natural hot springs along it, and it had quickly become one of Katara’s favorite spots not only to bend and spar, but to also just unwind and relax.
“Kataraaaaa,” Aang called out, pushing away the vines that covered the entrance to her little nook. “Where’d you go, sweetie?” He could hear the burbling of the water as it flowed over the rocks under its surface as well as the soft croaks of the frogs who called it home. He had to be getting close.
“Over here, Aang!”
The airbender’s head perked up in the direction of her voice and he grinned widely when he saw her, pleasantly surprised.
Katara’s eyes were still closed, her features serene from her seat on top of a round, flat boulder overlooking a wider part of the stream. She had obviously been meditating, but that wasn’t quite what shocked Aang the most.
Instead of her traditional fur-lined Water Tribe garb, she was wearing Air Nomad robes in warmer shades of yellow, orange, and dark red like the fall leaves. Her swollen belly poked out from under the loose layers of fabric, and she had never looked so beautiful to Aang (except maybe on their wedding day).
“Hey, Tara,” the airbender murmured, walking up to her. He gave her a hug from behind and pressed a kiss to her temple, one of his hands interlocking with hers around the middle of her stomach while the other rested on top of her bump.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Quite early to be all the way out here, no?”
Katara slowly fluttered her eyelids open, the corners of her mouth turning up as she leaned back against him. “Well, your child wouldn’t stop kicking me and woke me up, so I figured we’d try and relax for some time.”
Aang pouted. “Why is she always my child when she’s bothering her amazing and beautiful mom?”
“Because he gets it from his dad,” she deadpanned in response.
“Meanie.” Aang gave her a look and stuck his tongue out at her, causing them both to dissolve into laughter.
“Meditating isn’t usually your thing, nor are those,” he pointed out as he gestured to her clothing, an eyebrow quirked. “What brought this on?”
Katara blushed, looking away with a shy smile. “Well, I thought I’d take a page out of your book. Meditating always works for you, so I just figured why not try it? And these I’ve actually been sewing together for the last week or so. I found a pattern in one of the crates we brought over from the Southern Air Temple, and they’re a lot looser and comfier than my normal clothes. I, um, I hope that’s okay?”
“More than okay. The fact that you even cared enough to use the pattern, not to mention how you took my breath away- it’s concerning as an airbender, you know,” Aang grinned as Katara giggled at the last bit.
Suddenly, a frigid gust swept by them, cooling the already chilly morning air and causing the waterbender to shiver as she scooted closer to Aang, seeking his natural body heat.
“Spirits, it’s cold,” she muttered, rubbing her hands up and down the sides of her torso. “I’ve been out of the South Pole too long.”
Aang quickly trotted over to the entrance of the little den where he had set down the blankets and fruits he brought. “I have just the thing.”
He quickly grabbed two of them, one made of polar leopard skins from the Southern Water Tribe and another he had managed to sew using Appa’s shedded fur last spring, and snugly wrapped them around Katara, handing her a moon peach as well as her body warmed back up.
“You really didn’t have to, Aang,” she mumbled, biting into her moon peach and humming contentedly when she tasted its sweetness.
Fruit still in hand, she gave him a slightly awkward side embrace, enveloping him in the blankets with her while he returned the hug and kissed the top of her head, as well as her growing belly.
“Of course I did,” he said looking down at her. “You always work yourself to the bone doing stuff for everyone else, Katara. It’s high time you let someone do the same for you. Especially when you’re carrying such precious cargo.”
Katara rolled her eyes, the pink tint in her cheeks and upturned corners of her mouth giving her true thoughts away.
“Quite the role swap today, eh?” she teased. “Me in airbender robes and meditating while you start to mother everyone?”
“Not everyone,” Aang chuckled. “Just you. You take care of our baby, so I take care of you. Simple as that.”
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Katara sighed. “Can we stay here for a bit?” she asked, leaning into the airbender a little more. “This is nice.”
“It would be my pleasure,” the airbender responded.
The couple did, in fact, end up spending the entire morning at the secluded creek simply relaxing, meditating, and enjoying each other’s company. It wasn’t until Katara’s stomach growled that Aang insisted they head back (“You’re eating for two now, sweetie, c’mon- I’ll even make you some mini fruit pies.”) and have a proper breakfast.
Time quickly flew, and the sun made its way across the cloud-streaked sky as the minutes turned to hours and the afternoon was spent taking a stroll across the island grounds. The training arena and meditation pavilion had been coming along quite nicely, and soon some Acolytes would be able to move in from the other temples, Aang remarked at some point.
Alas, eventually duties called, and by dinner time, the airbender was holed up in his office, back hunched over a stack of documents illuminated by a small candle on his desk.
Though he certainly didn't regret the day's adventures, they had put him back significantly. The council had been assigning more paperwork lately with even tighter deadlines in preparation for the unveiling of new city infrastructure, like the ferry to the island, and it was driving Aang crazy. He barely got any time away from his Avatar duties as it was, and this just added to the pressure.
Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring!
Aang snapped out of his thoughts, startled by the chimes of the bell tower on the mainland and quickly counted how many he heard.
“12?! ” he thought to himself. “ How is it already midnight? I’m barely halfway through! ”
The airbender groaned, dropping his head onto the desk with a loud thump. All he wanted was to be next to his wife in their bed right now, and he couldn't even have that!
As if telepathically summoned by that last thought, Aang suddenly felt her soft hands on his shoulders, massaging them as they both sighed softly.
"You need a break," she whispered as she alleviated some of the stress held in his back. "You're so tense."
"Believe me, I know," the airbender muttered. "I wish I could just leave this all and take a break from work already."
"Well, why don't you?"
Aang turned his head to look at her as if she had just grown a third arm. "I'm the Avatar. I can't. This needs to be done."
She rolled her eyes, gaze still focused on kneading the knots in his shoulder blades. "Please, the world managed to go an entire century without the Avatar. I'm sure the council members can stand to wait a day without some lousy paperwork."
"But-"
"No buts," Katara harrumphed. "You're the Avatar! You're the one fighting for workers to have shorter work weeks and less hours so that they can be home with their families! Why not apply the same to yourself?"
Aang frowned. She did have a point. Technically speaking, he could easily skive off the paperwork and the council wouldn't be able to do anything. After all, he was the Avatar. Avatar Kuruk certainly had no problem with it (though that was a frequent point of contention between him and the other Avatars).
"People are relying on me to get this done, Tara. I can't disappoint them."
Abruptly stopping her movements on his back, Katara grabbed the documents and held them out of reach of the airbender.
"I'm going to tell you exactly what's going to happen now,” she huffed. “You are going to forget about these documents tonight. Tomorrow, if and when the council asks, you are going to tell them that everyone is taking the next week off because of how overworked they are. But for right now, you are coming with me for some nice, relaxing midnight waterbending. No sparring, just an orb of water back and forth.”
Aang opened his mouth to argue but faltered, seeing the determined look on Katara’s face. Instead, he just shook his head and chuckled.
“My wife, the epitome of responsibility and good work ethic, is not only encouraging, but actively telling me to blow off work and waterbend with her? Who are you and what have you done with Katara?”
The waterbender blushed, but the fire in her eyes did not die down one bit. “Maybe it’s this baby, maybe it’s the full moon, but you were the one who showed me how to have fun when I needed it, Aang. Now it’s my turn to return the favor.”
Aang sighed and set down his pen as he stood up.
“Lead the way.”
Katara eagerly took his outstretched arm and pulled him in the direction of the cove. On the southern tip of the island, surrounded by rocky cliffs on either side, there was a small lagoon, heated by the same source as that of the hot springs along the stream they had visited earlier. As a result, the water was comfortably warm all year round, and was incredibly effective for relaxing the mind, body, and soul.
The two arrived in mere minutes and the heat immediately had its desired effect. Tension evaporated away like water on hot coals as the two entered the steam and began to strip into their waterbending clothes, Katara in her bindings, slightly modified to accommodate her growing bump, and Aang in his undergarments.
The full moon reflected brightly off the surface of the water, creating an almost halo-like effect around the two benders as they entered the shallow end and began passing around a ball of water.
They easily settled into a consistent rhythm, moving back and forth in time with the ocean tide pushing and pulling around their feet. It was almost hypnotic in a way, and the monotonous motion calmed Aang’s erratic thoughts.
His head now far clearer, the airbender flicked his wrist, splashing a bit of water in Katara’s face.
“Did you just-” she asked in shock
He gave her a cheesy grin. “Maybe.”
“Oh, it is on.”
Instead of passing the ball of water back to Aang, Katara held it over his head, smiling devilishly.
“You wouldn’t,” Aang gasped.
“Wouldn’t I?” she smirked.
Without another word, Katara released her hold, and the sphere splashed down onto Aang, leaving the airbender soaked and spluttering.
“Two can play at that game.”
Aang swept his hands from side to side in a large motion that caused the water around Katara to rise higher and higher, soaking her from the hips down.
The waterbender began to form her counter to it, a large wave building behind Aang out of his line of sight, without realizing that the water around her had suddenly receded as he had the same idea.
The two simultaneously released their grips, and their waves swept over both of them, submerging them for all of a few seconds before the water settled and they came up for air. They were left sitting on their butts, completely soaked with their knees and torso mostly submerged, and burst into laughter.
“So much for some peaceful waterbending,” Katara chuckled.
“It may not have been peaceful, but it was exactly what I needed,” the airbender smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”
“Of course,” she yawned, making Aang yawn as well.
“Looks like it’s time for bed,” he murmured, eyes bleary.
“It’s a warm night,” Katara said as she stood up. “Maybe we could sleep out here?”
Aang quickly strode through the water onto shore, Katara right behind him, and turned towards her, kissing her forehead.
“Cuddling and sleeping under the stars with my beautiful wife? Sounds absolutely perfect. Let me just get some pillows from the temple.”
“Oh, no, Aang, you’re already tired and worked so much today, you don’t have to do that-”
“Ah,” he interrupted. “My job to take care of you. Besides, the jog will help me sleep faster,” he winked, running off towards the spire.
Within a few minutes, he had gone and returned, pillows and blankets in tow, and the two quickly set up a little sleeping area on the beach so that they could finally settle down for the night.
“Ah,” Aang sighed as the two lay down on their sides and began to close their eyes. “The council might be mad, but you know what? Screw it, I’d take waterbending with you over boring paperwork any day."
“Well, I should hope so. I’d like to think I’m more exciting than paperwork,” she smiled, giving him a soft nudge. “You know, it’s not every day we get a whole day like this and it means a lot. You mean a lot. I love you, Aang. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” he smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to her stomach. “I love you too, Katara. You and our precious baby. Sweet dreams, love.”
“Sweet dreams.”
#kataang week#kataang week 2021#kataangtag#kataang#aang x katara#midnight waterbending#aang#katara#pregnancy fluff#bc yes#4 am ramblings#wrote this way later than i should've#atla fanfiction
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You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)
a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3
Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)
Warnings: swearing, angst
Word Count: 6.7k
catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten
January, 2018
A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way.
I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl.
“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway.
“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”
“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”
Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”
“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”
“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”
“Ta-ta.”
Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby.
Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens. Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail.
“Where are you going?”
Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name.
“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.”
She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns.
The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message.
Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?
Harry: See you there.
********
“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”
Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits.
“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”
“When are you going, again?”
“Next month,”
Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”
“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”
“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”
“Literally everyone.”
“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”
The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her.
“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take.
Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door.
********
“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee.
“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”
Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”
“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”
“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”
“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”
Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”
“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests.
“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”
“Some food for thought.”
The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out.
********
“Where’s Alani?”
“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.”
Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”
And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden.
********
Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected, and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry.
“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden.
“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning.
Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”
Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”
“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”
But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag.
********
“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue.
Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set.
“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.
Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song.
“Alright, then it’s—”
“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”
“Run ‘Meet Me’?”
“Yeah,”
Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.
“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”
Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords.
Meet me in the hallway
“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”
Meet me in the hallway
“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”
I just left your bedroom
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
Give me some morphine
“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”
Is there any more to do?
“Please don’t go.”
Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door
Hoping you'll come around
Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor
Maybe we’ll work it out
********
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”
Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”
Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”
“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”
“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”
The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt?
The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction.
Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly.
“Hello?”
“Darling, hello! Where are you?”
“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”
“Is everything okay?”
Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”
“Christ, from where?”
“Bisous,”
Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”
“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”
“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”
The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already? She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way.
********
“10 minutes!”
Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in.
“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”
“We did it?”
“You did it,”
So why does it still hurt?
“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”
Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.
It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different.
The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written.
“I should go back,”
“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”
“I have to go back.”
And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets.
The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said.
I walked the streets all day
Running with the thieves
‘Cause you left me in the hallway
Just take my pain away
Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door
Hoping you'll come around
Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor
Maybe we’ll work it out
********
“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”
Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”
“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”
“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”
More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on.
********
This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing?
“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”
The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face.
“Nice try,”
“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”
“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”
Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”
As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow.
“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”
“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”
Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”
The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”
“Follow me, please,”
Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.
“Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”
Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain.
“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”
“Thief,”
“I meant to return it.”
Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile.
“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”
A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart.
“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”
“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly.
Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”
Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return.
“You did, this is a hologram projection,”
Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him.
“Did you enjoy—”
“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping.
“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”
Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”
Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb.
“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie.
“What?”
“Have dinner with me?”
Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”
“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her.
She nods and he takes a step back.
“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases.
He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”
Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway.
When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits.
“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside.
“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.
********
“We’re not eating here?”
A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning.
“No,” he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”
“Oh,”
It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed.
“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten.
“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”
Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”
“Please?”
He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees.
“What’s it called?” she questions.
“It’s just my name,”
“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”
“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”
Alani hums. “Prince,”
“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”
“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?
“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues.
Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”
“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”
He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go.
“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”
Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”
She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her.
“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space.
If you’re gonna let me down
Let me down gently don’t pretend
That you don’t want me
Our love ain’t water under the bridge
********
Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors.
“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”
Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”
“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors.
“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”
“I pulled some strings,”
She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues.
“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”
Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”
“Jim?”
“The director.”
“Of course.”
Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside.
“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them.
Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.
“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”
“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”
“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”
“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”
And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up.
“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long.
Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”
“Where at?”
“Rolling Stone,”
“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”
“Thank you,” she replies graciously.
Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”
“Yeah, in the Village,”
“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”
A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”
“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”
“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.
“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,”
“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,”
“I was,”
“I didn’t watch it, sorry,”
Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”
“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words.
Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.”
Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home.
They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh.
“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically.
“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,”
“I think she would’ve found it flattering,”
“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,”
Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,”
“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying.
“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,”
Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts.
“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?”
The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did.
“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears.
“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back.
Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat.
“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”
“I have to go—”
“Just stop for a minute, please,”
Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers.
“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”
Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.
“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”
“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”
“Alani—”
“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”
“Stop apologizing—”
“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”
Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over.
“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”
Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond.
“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”
He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”
They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw.
“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”
Alani blinks. “You did?”
“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”
“Harry—”
“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”
He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”
Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound.
“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”
Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch.
“Can I show you something?”
You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”
He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it.
“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”
An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces.
“Where did you say the original was?”
“New York Botanical Garden,”
“M’gonna take you one day,”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring.
“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks.
Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue.
“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”
Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak.
“Do you know what that feeling is called?”
“No,”
“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”
His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.
“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”
“What did you wish for?” Harry searches.
Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”
His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”
Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go.
********
February 14, 2018
“Comment est le temps?”
Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”
He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her.
“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,”
“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”
“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”
Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow.
“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”
“Oui,”
“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”
Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”
“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”
He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”
“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”
“Sure does, sweets.”
Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back.
“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes.
She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”
Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris.
We don’t know where we’re going
But we know where we belong
And oh we started
Two hearts in one home
It’s hard when we argue
We’re both stubborn
I know, but oh
Sweet creature, sweet creature
Wherever I go, you bring me home
Sweet creature, sweet creature
When I run out of road
You bring me home
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#ybmh#so!!!! that's all folks <3
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