#you ever see something so Accurate it makes you log in?

[gurugirl]

Just For Tonight | Ch. 3

This is the last part of this mini series! We might have some more coming for you - stay tuned!

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Is it true what they say? Does distance really make the heart grow fonder? Y/n isn't so sure so she tries to move on. But Harry has other plans.

A/N: In this chapter I mention a particular ex (without naming her) as part of the plot. This does not mean I feel one way or another about her, nor do I think this is an accurate representation of how she's acted after their split. This was requested for the story. This is a work of fiction.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, mentions of an ex, angst

Word Count: 11.8k

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

It had been difficult for Y/n to stop thinking about Harry. They connected so well and she loved the way he was with her and how he carried himself. Loved the way they could talk about nothing and have it feel like the most interesting thing.

They had a few calls after he left LA for his tour. But that quickly became hard to navigate with the different time zones. He said he liked her and wanted to see her again. And she was sure that when he said that he meant it. The distance won, however.

But with his absence, with him being in another country on tour, and hundreds of people begging for a chance of what she got lucky enough to experience, she figured that what she’d gotten was probably all she’d ever get.

And that was okay. It wasn��t what she wanted. She wanted more of him. Would have loved to have seen him but she knew he was too famous and too amazing to settle for someone like her. She knew better than to ever get her hopes up. He’d done nothing wrong.

Instagram showed pictures of him with his friends and a mystery woman. A woman who was with him at one of his concerts. And then another one. Photos of them walking along the streets together. A fuzzy snap of them at a small café huddled closely. That was also okay. There had been no promises or commitments made.

Y/n hated to do it, hated to open up Instagram but her curiosity about Harry and if he’d been spotted by fans was eating at her. A DuexMoi post with a screenshot from his recent long-term ex’s Instagram account had her feeling nauseated. It was a subtle thing. Nothing specific but everyone picked up on the meaning. The text was a quote from a book she’d been reading over a picture of a close-up of her wearing a cross necklace.

The comments on what it meant were all over the place. And Y/n knew better than to read into anything too deeply or to fixate on something like this. Harry had brought up his ex once when their conversation was relevant to it. Said that she continued reaching out to him and that even when it was clear they were over the woman still called him and sent him messages on the regular.

And as much as she knew that it was probably nothing she couldn’t shake the way it felt to think of Harry and his ex getting back together somehow. She didn’t know anything about what he was doing at that moment because their calls had all but stopped by then. But the post from his ex was a signal. Did it mean anything? Maybe. But maybe it only meant something to his ex. Perhaps Harry hadn’t even seen it.

However, the comments on the post suggested they were talking again and reports of them trying to “work it out” were numerous.

And with that idea, she decided to log back into her stupid dating app. Try and get over the pop star once and for all. Move on if she could.

She’d had one good date from the app ages ago. The rest of the men who contacted her were absolute wastes but perhaps she’d find someone once again who she could tolerate for longer than a chat session. She’d give it a shot.

.           .           .

“But you did take her call?” Jeff spoke over the phone as Harry walked back to the hotel after a training session with Brad.

“Well, yeah. We have history. I didn’t want to be rude. Haven’t talked to her in a while. Thought maybe it could be important.”

“And was it?” Jeff sounded exasperated.

“No. She just said she missed me. Wants to see me when I get back to the States.”

Harry knew when he saw the incoming call from his ex that he probably shouldn’t pick up. But that was the thing about him. He was a people pleaser. He didn’t like when anyone was upset with him and he liked being on everyone’s good side. Even if it meant answering a call he didn’t want to take.

And part of him missed her. Missed what they had at the very beginning but he’d truly moved on. Especially with the idea that he’d be getting back to LA soon and seeing Y/n again. He hoped he hadn’t ruined it with her. It was hard to keep in contact with her. Too many missed calls and back-and-forth voicemails. Even the texts with Y/n had dwindled slowly. He understood that the distance was hard to overcome but that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to hopefully seeing her again.

He knew if he had the chance to see her again and she still wanted to give it a shot with him he wouldn’t be letting go next time. He’d make it official. He’d want to really do it right with her. And he’d have a little time off from the tour to dote on her and give her lots of attention. Maybe even convince her that she should just travel with him wherever he went off to. Convince her that she should be his and that he would do everything he could to make her happy like she deserved.

He hoped it wasn’t too late.

And now with the new Instagram post from his ex the gossip had begun. Full articles written about how he and his ex were getting back together again, how it was true love, and a bunch of other nonsense that her story caused. And Jeff was pissed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t have taken her call. That’s sending her mixed signals and now with that godforsaken post she put up you’re already getting hate messages about taking her back. Calling you complicit. It’s a nightmare.”

Sometimes Harry really hated being famous. He didn’t even have to do much to get scrutiny. Sometimes one small little blunder, like answering a call could set off a chain of events that led him to where he was now, getting his ear chewed off by Jeff and having his fans upset with him.

But his main concern was if Y/n had seen it or not. He wondered what she thought about it. If she cared. He wondered how she was. If she’d seen anyone while he was gone. He missed her.

.           .           .

The job at The Dulcería had turned out to be one of the best things ever, income-wise anyway. She was exhausted and had little free time but she was pulling in pretty healthy tips and when it came time to pay her rent she had plenty left over to pay on time and stick the rest in savings.

Vyra steered clear for the most part but she did hover a bit any time Y/n had a table with a high roller or celebrity. Which, Y/n came to learn that not all celebrities tipped like Harry Styles. In fact, some tipped worse than normies to her shock.

One particularly demanding uber-famous model with her model friends was nice at first. Needed things brought out in a certain order, the wine had to be perfectly chilled or she wouldn’t drink from her glass, and then there was the lighting issue. She and her friends were snapping photos of themselves “eating” and the lights weren’t right.

Their table was full of The Dulcería’s most exclusive and expensive desserts (which the restaurant was famous for) and yet only a few bites were taken after uploading all their photos to Instagram. It was a shame that all of it had to be tossed when their table was cleared. It felt like it should be illegal. Belgian fine chocolate ganache, freshly made lemon curd, berries from the local market selected that very morning, handpicked herbs, candied pistachios, and fresh lavender cream. All that waste for nothing.

The tip that was left after that three-hour debacle was less than 5% of the bill. She assumed the woman who supposedly had many millions of dollars to her name would have given a better tip on a nearly $3,000 tab. Just imagine watching a rich woman clad in designer carrying a purse most people had to get on a waitlist for leaving a $145 tip on a $3,000 tab.

Still, even then, she was bringing in good tips and couldn’t complain often.

Her feet hurt and she smelled like the restaurant through and through at the end of her shifts. If she could have just collapsed into her bed and gone to sleep she would have. But the thought of not showering off first made her skin crawl. She needed the scent of food and spilled wine scrubbed from her pores.

And like she did nearly every night before falling asleep, she checked social media and then checked her dating app to see if there were any hits. Any worthy of a response from her.

One evening she did hear from a man who seemed intriguing. He appeared to be normal and handsome. So she sent him a response and opened up the chat option if he wanted to pursue something.

And the following day at the office she and Jimmy had chatted intermittently. She felt that sweet little familiar bubble of excitement in her tummy when her phone gave her a notification that he’d messaged her.

They made plans to meet up in person on a Wednesday after work at a bar near to her house.

It had been almost two months since she’d seen Harry. He did message her a few weeks prior but there was no call and when she responded he didn’t respond back. She figured it was time to look for something a little more serious. She knew better than to assume she and Harry were endgame. No matter how good the sex and connection were.

She stopped stalking Instagram and googling to find out where he was in the world. It was better for her own mental health to try and move on from him. He had been a fun fling. A great guy. Maybe one of the best “hookups” she’d ever had. Not maybe. He definitely was. He had been kind and thoughtful and fun. And he was great in bed.

But it was time to put that behind her now. A date with a nice, normal guy was in order. She just hoped she could erase the way Harry made her feel and that she wouldn’t compare every guy she tried dating to the pop star.

Jimmy was attractive in person to her delight. He worked downtown not far from where she did and they talked about mundane things like their commute (anyone living in or around LA will understand this is a hot topic), the buildings they worked in, and their jobs. When Y/n revealed she worked as a waitress on the side Jimmy seemed impressed by her even more.

After a few glasses of wine and for Jimmy, beer, they decided to part ways. It had been a good first meetup. Y/n was feeling buzzy and excited. Hopeful.

The chats with Jimmy continued but moved from the app to texts. They had plans to meet up again Monday evening.

Her weekend shift at The Dulcería was like any other. Tips were good. Some of the patrons were just so-so. Vyra was annoying but gave her space. But she was exhausted. She only worked an extra 18 hours a week as a waitress but after a few months, it began to wear on her.

So when Monday came around and she walked to the same bar to meet up with Jimmy she didn’t expect that the text she’d be getting wouldn’t be from her date.

Just as she was pushing through the doors to the bar she looked at her notification screen and nearly dropped her phone.

It was Harry.

She paused by the door for a moment, contemplating whether or not to read the text to see what he wanted or to wait until after her date. She decided on the latter out of respect for Jimmy.

The problem was, though, that Y/n couldn’t get it out of her mind what it was that Harry had texted her. It had been long enough that she figured he’d completely moved on. And was it fair of him to reach out again after all that time?

So, instead of feeling flattered, she started to feel the tiny crawling of annoyance and frustration dragging up her spine.

“I’d like to see you again soon. Maybe we can get dinner next time. Take a walk afterward along the boardwalk or something?” Jimmy said as he hugged Y/n goodbye before they went their separate ways.

“That sounds great. I’m free Sunday night if you want to do it then. Kind of hard most Fridays and Saturdays,” she shrugged as she felt Jimmy squeeze her hand.

“Sunday night sounds perfect. Can I pick you up?”

.           .           .

Hey, how are you? Miss you.

She read the text over and over again. That was all it said but why? Why send it? It wasn’t as if he couldn’t be allowed to text her. He had her number. They’d slept together a couple of times and had gotten to know one another beyond just surfacey stuff. But still.

Instead of texting him back, she decided to leave him on read. She needed time to figure out how to respond. What to say, or if she should say anything. Maybe she should just leave it so he got the hint about what was going on. That she didn’t want to open up that chapter again and get herself hurt. Because she would get her heart broken by Harry if she let herself get lost in it.

And it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong at all. It was clear that what had happened between them had just been casual. Good, fun sex. So responding to him wouldn’t have been weird but there was a part of her that felt like maybe he’d dug his way into her heart a little more than she was ready to admit. If she was taking his innocent text so seriously and pondering it so deeply, perhaps there was more to it. Which meant she needed to let it go for her own good.

So she did leave him on read. But more for her sake than his she figured.

.           .           .

Harry couldn’t understand why she hadn’t responded. He could see that she’d read the text. But why not respond? He wondered if this meant she’d moved on. Maybe she’d seen that post from his ex and figured he was on his way to getting back with her somehow amidst all the rumors.

He was aware of how things were between himself and Y/n. He’d given in and fucked his own rule to not sleep with someone who was supposed to be a one-time thing more than once. To go back for more. But when he saw her that night at the restaurant he felt like somehow it was fate. Not like a deep sort of forever kind of fate, but more like a this is okay to indulge in more than once kind of fate. He usually didn’t like doing that but with Y/n it felt different. And she was hot. And funny. And the way she handled him in bed had definitely left a mark on him. She wasn’t just a fan or a casual sex partner. She wasn’t just some girl.

So that’s why he texted her. He was coming back to LA in a couple of weeks. Figured they could see one another again and have some fun. But maybe that was the problem. She was more than just fun for a night. He liked her a lot. And perhaps she was feeling something similar and needed to put that distance there so she didn’t get hurt. Harry could understand that.

While he was away he had one of his good friends along with him. He liked to have someone he trusted, which was rare in his world. He had a hard time trusting most people. She was easygoing and didn’t want anything from him sexually so she was a perfect confidant and companion to have traveling with him. It was nice to have friends like her. Something that didn’t need to be anything but friendly. Someone that he could joke around with and not worry much about being on his best behavior with.

She even gave him great advice about Y/n and then his ex after the disaster of her Instagram post. He knew he’d been snapped with her as he was out and about. On walks, in restaurants, in group settings. There were of course the usual rumors that they were dating but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He imagined that Y/n had seen the photos of him walking with the girl next to him. Plus the post from his ex wasn’t helping matters. Maybe it had all been too much for Y/n? Or maybe he was overthinking it all. He wasn’t quite ready to give up but he’d let her be until he returned.

.           .           .

Jimmy took Y/n to a cute little Mexican spot Sunday night and they ordered margaritas and Baja tacos with guacamole and cactus salad.

And Jimmy looked extra attractive that evening. She hadn’t noticed before then that his forearms were so thick. He had a sweater on that he’d pushed up to his elbows baring his arms. A bit of scruff on his face. And he smelled nice.

She felt like maybe they’d had enough dates and had gotten to know one another well enough that going back to his place might be fun. She wouldn’t mind a fun romp in the sack with him.

So when they walked back to Jimmy’s car she decided to go out on a limb, “Would you… what do you think about maybe going back to your place together? Or mine? I was thinking we could kind of relax and continue our conversation a bit?”

Jimmy opened the passenger door for her to let her into his car, “Oh. Yeah! Absolutely. Whichever place is better for you. It’s up to you. Mine or yours.”

And because Y/n wanted to do more than just “continue their conversation” she figured his place was best since Brad was probably home. The last time she had a man in her bed was Harry and Brad hinted at having heard them the next day. Not something she wanted to repeat nor subject poor Brad to again.

Jimmy lived in a one-bedroom apartment. He had no roommates which was ideal.

“So, I just want to tell you that right now I’m not looking for a serious relationship. I still have my profile up and kind of chatting with another girl but it hasn’t gone anywhere. I think once we get to know one another a little more maybe we can talk about being exclusive. Does that sound okay?”

She appreciated Jimmy’s honesty. And she was glad that he told her before they’d gotten any further. Because they were both sitting on his couch and making out heavily. In fact, her hand was already slowly making its way up his thigh when he stopped her to come clean.

She paused and thought for a moment. Was that okay? She began to nod and turned her gaze back to her date, “Thank you for telling me. And yeah… I think I can agree to that. Let’s just keep being honest with one another like this and I think it’ll be really good,” she leaned in when Jimmy grinned at her answer and she climbed over his lap, not ready to stop the direction they were already headed.

And just as she’d intended when she left the restaurant with Jimmy they had sex after clearing the air about their status.

It was good. She liked having sex. She didn’t do it a lot. Maybe she’d have one or two a year at most. Hopefully, Jimmy would be someone she could keep around. She hated dating and finding someone she could trust.

Jimmy didn’t get her off, though. He tried. He ate her out, which she was already very pleased with. Not all men would go down on a woman without having to be prompted. Jimmy was eager.

But when that didn’t get her off she told him to get a condom so they could have sex.

Again, he was eager. Quite good really. But as was typical for having sex with anyone for the first time, she didn’t come. She was nice and wet and super turned on but it just didn’t happen.

She didn’t mind much. He did hit some really good spots that made her moan and got her close a few times. He tried rubbing her clit to get her off before he could come but it didn’t do it for her. She guided his fingers over her the way she liked but he needed time to figure out her body a little. Nothing wrong with that at all.

And he knew she didn’t come. He was disappointed in himself when he pumped into his condom and groaned in his orgasm. He apologized profusely and tried to eat her out again but she was tired. They’d been going at it for a while because his goal was to make her come.

“It’s okay. Really. Jimmy, you’re so good. It’s always like this the first time for me. I had so much fun with you.” She cupped his jaw.

While what she was saying was mostly true, she couldn’t stop imagining how Harry had gotten her off his first time. And the second time and the following morning before he left. She tried to swallow down those thoughts and not let that interrupt her moment with Jimmy but she couldn’t help it. Harry’s moves were just better and his dirty talk and his body. And his cock. And him.

She closed her eyes to squeeze out that image from her mind. There was nothing wrong with Jimmy’s body or his dick. He was fine. She was sure that after some work he’d be getting her off soon enough. They’d eventually get very comfortable with one another and sex would be better and she’d orgasm easier.

Really at the end of the day she wanted to feel close with someone. And she got exactly that with Jimmy. He pulled her into his chest and they fell asleep in his bed. She might have not gotten her orgasm but she got the connection and closeness she’d been craving and missing.

.           .           .

The following week they skipped going out for a date altogether and Jimmy cooked for her at his place. He was a pretty romantic person. A genuinely nice guy. Handsome, funny, smart. But their second time having sex was not different from the first. Y/n was sure she’d come and had gotten close a few times but it still just didn’t happen.

And for the first time in her life ever, she faked it. She felt she had to. The poor guy was suffering. He was hammering into her and grunting and shaking, continually pulling out before he could release. For nearly half an hour that was the scene.

He tried holding her legs to the side and thrusting into her as he hovered over her but she needed something more, she was sure. Her own fingers at her clit and his cock slipping in and out just didn’t do the job. So she got on all fours and Jimmy’s bed creaked and bounced and it felt really good. Just not good enough.

Finally, when she rode him she felt that yummy gooey thing she always got just before coming but the moment she began to quiver and just before she could come Jimmy’s words halted any further gooeyness, “Finally, fuck!”

That had done it. She wasn’t going to come. He didn’t mean it to be rude, she was sure. Jimmy was the sweetest guy, truly. But that little bit was all she needed and her orgasm was ruined. So when she felt him throbbing in his condom she moaned and clenched and did all the stupid acting a porn star would to fake her orgasm.

For him to say finally in response to thinking she was coming. Really? That had irked her. She wished he hadn’t said that.

But it didn’t deter her. She really did like the guy. And surely the third time would be the charm. Except it wasn’t. The following morning he ate her out and then they had sex and he got off while she faked it again. She had to get going anyway because it was Monday morning and she had to be at the office.

It felt good to be dating someone. Even if it was casual. Jimmy had mentioned he hadn’t seen anyone else, but she didn’t miss it when he said “yet”. And part of her preferred it casual with Jimmy. Liked that her options were still open for the time being. But it did feel good to be in a relationship of sorts. Felt nice to know that someone liked her enough to keep texting her and seeing her and wanted to sleep with her. It felt grownup. That’s what she wanted. Connection. Relationship. And that’s what Jimmy gave her. In due time they would be more sexually compatible. She was sure.

On Friday night at the restaurant, she was given a couple of large groups. They were relatively nice. Perfectly well-behaved groups. Jimmy had been texting her all night. He was hoping to see her and have her stay over until the following morning before she had to be at work.

She hadn’t decided if she would or not. She sort of wanted to sleep her morning away before needing to be on her feet all night again. And she figured she could use her dildo and make herself come because she was sure Jimmy couldn’t. She knew that he wanted to have sex with her and at that point it just sounded exhausting. Now every time they got together the night ended with sex and a failed orgasm on her part. She didn’t know if something was wrong with her or if maybe she wasn’t as compatible with Jimmy as she thought. But she knew one thing. He wasn’t getting her off like she needed. And her feelings about that were giving her pause. She wondered if she was just settling for casual dates with Jimmy. Wondering if Harry had ruined her for anyone else.

So when she was suddenly interrupted coming out of the kitchen to check on one of her tables she jumped at his voice. It had been unexpected.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” She looked around and the bustling restaurant and then back up at the handsome man. Her body tingled at his presence and she got that lightheaded excitedness that she felt every time she saw him. And she realized that that was something she never experienced with Jimmy.

“I just wanted to say hi. You hadn’t texted me back the last time I reached out and I’m here for dinner right now and saw you walking back and forth. Just wanted to see how you are.”

She didn’t realize Harry had been there. Usually, the servers would mention any time anyone famous came in.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m well. Just… gosh I’ve been really busy. How have you been? I didn’t know you were back.” She decided not to address the fact that she hadn’t responded to his text nearly a month ago.

“I’m great. Been back in LA for almost a week. Missed you.”

Missed you. Yeah, she missed him too if she were honest. But she’d been pushing it all down. Covering up her feelings with Jimmy.

“That’s… I uh… missed you too.” She didn’t know what else to say. Out loud anyway. Internally she was telling him all about how the guy she’d been dating was super sweet but terrible in bed. Well, not terrible. But not Harry. And he didn’t make her feel all floaty and full of syrup and butterflies and anticipation the way Harry did. How she was having trouble connecting with Jimmy the way she could with Harry. God, how she’d love to have another round with him again. Feel that yummy stretch he gave her, that sharp deep poke, listen to his deep voice in her ear as he coaxed her through an orgasm that had her shaking and slobbering into the sheets.

“Yeah? Maybe I can see you after? I’ll stick around til you get off.”

Her mind was playing tricks on her. Til you get off. Yeah, she knew that would happen if she allowed him to stick around. She’d get off all right. He’d see to it. She should say no. Should tell him she’s seeing someone. It’s not serious but she shouldn’t do that to Jimmy. But then again…

“Okay. Yeah. I’d like that. Should be done here in an hour and a half. Is that okay?”

“F’course. I’ll be here.”

She felt immediate guilt. Jimmy didn’t deserve to be put on the back burner. He was too sweet. And there was nothing wrong with him. Sex wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t bad and eventually, she’d get used to him and she’d orgasm with him. Surely. Right? But the biggest thing that nagged at her was the way she felt around Harry. Just having him standing before her and speaking to her had her feeling things she realized she never felt with Jimmy. Maybe Jimmy wasn’t a good match for her.

And she and Jimmy weren’t exclusive. That had been made clear at the beginning. Jimmy did say that he wasn’t ready to be serious with anyone and that he wanted to get to know her for a while before any commitments were made. So it wasn’t like she was actually doing anything wrong. And it wasn’t as if Harry was asking her to have sex with him. Not by any means. Perhaps it was just to chat. To just catch up.

.           .           .

It was most definitely not just to chat. But of course, she knew that. Harry had her in his bed nearly the minute they walked into his huge mansion. It was the first time she’d been to his place and she barely had a moment to look around before he was dragging her to his master suite. They’d made out the entire way from the restaurant to his place in the back of the car. She couldn’t help it. It was like magic between them. Like fate. Like they were meant to be. She felt powerless to it.

“God I missed you,” he whispered into her neck as he gripped the back of her head, “Have never kissed anyone with softer lips.”

She was wet nearly instantly. Jimmy had to work hard to get her in the state she was with Harry after only five minutes of a hot, backseat makeout session.

In his room, she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She needed to see him. Needed to dig her nails into his thick, masculine thighs. She panted as she leaned in and pressed her lips over his tiger tattoo and ran her hands upward to cup his bulge.

Harry watched her from her position on her knees before him and finally felt like he was home. There was something about this girl that he couldn’t shake. He had missed her. And the whole reason he had gone to The Dulcería that night was to see her.

So he was surprised when she so easily said yes to seeing him after work. Surprised when she flirted with him and responded to his touch with touches of her own. Surprised when she kissed him in the back seat of the cab and now more than anything, was pleased by the direction the night was going.

He decided before he even saw her that night that he wanted to make her his. Wanted it to be official. He could see himself getting serious with her. Saw himself bringing her with him everywhere. Falling in love. The whole nine.

Her lips sucked and pulled at his cock and it was better than he remembered. There was certainly nothing like the real thing when it came to getting head and Harry had been doing a lot of imagining over the months. He’d missed her warmth and her eyes. Her wet lips slipping over his shaft.

She coughed and gurgled around him as she sat back for a breath and stroked him in her hand. He brushed his fingers along her temple to move her hair from her face and she was already looking up at him. Her top had been unbuttoned and he had a view of her big tits held in by her bra and her soft eyes looking up at him with his cock in her hand.

“Fuck, angel. Missed you so much.”

She smiled and leaned in with her pink tongue sticking out before licking over his balls, gently kissing and sucking at the skin. He moaned as she moved upward over his shaft and to his crown before popping him back into her mouth.

Another good gag had Harry pulling her up, “Darling, take your clothes off,” he said through soft breaths as he pulled his shirt off and kicked his pants down the rest of the way off his legs.

She removed her work outfit and could smell the restaurant on herself, “I should like, shower or something. I smell like kitchen and food…”

Harry dragged her into his arms and stepped her back toward the bed, “Just like you are. I need you now.” He spoke against her lips.

She was pushed into his bed, her naked body under his with his soft mouth drinking her in. His lips moved from her jaw to her neck and suckled at her tits for a while before he got down to business slurping away at her cunt.

Yes. Okay. That was good. Harry was good. And she knew it wasn’t just because he was so skilled. No. She realized that it was because of the way she felt for Harry. Her heart thundered in her chest wildly as she yanked his hair and ground her pussy into his face. Harry sucked and kissed and fingered wetly as he moaned into flesh. It was everything. Harry was everything.

When she splashed a bit on his face from her orgasm Harry sat back with a laugh as he massaged the inside of her thighs. She forced herself to open her eyes to look at him. He was breathing heavily, his chest flushed pink, his cock thickened and erect. Ready to be pressed right into her sloppy pussy.

He had a hand at his base as he smoothed his weepy tip through her hot and sticky crease. He small whine fell from his lips before he got up to grab a condom. He would have loved to have just fucked her raw but they’d need to talk about all that first. And they’d barely done any talking that evening.

She pushed herself up to her elbows to watch Harry as he stood next to the bed and looked down at his girthy cock, sliding the condom over himself. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her again. At long last.

His strong body was insane. She’d never get over it. Wanted to drag her tongue over every inch and drink up his sweat and taste the salt in her mouth. God, he made her insatiable.

Harry kneed up to her on the bed, his heavy condom-covered dick swaying until he pulled her toward him and planted his lips onto hers. Soft and sensuous. The way he kissed her was enough to call it all off Jimmy. It had her head spinning and her tummy doing somersaults. Never something Jimmy had accomplished in their couple of months of dating.

He was breathing hard as he backed from the kiss and looked over her bare body, “I needed this so bad. God… You have no idea how much I missed you, Y/n.”

She really didn’t know. Because she imagined he was getting plenty of ass while he’d been away.  

Harry laid her down on the bed, her back flat on the mattress as he leaned over her frame and attached his lips to her breasts one at a time. She could feel his cock dragging over her as he moved from one nipple to the other.

He felt her buck upward under him and he smiled as he popped off her nipple and looked down at her, “Need something, angel?”

She nodded with a grin, “Your cock. Please.”

Harry groaned and thumbed over moistened nipples before grasping his shaft with one hand and planting his palm down onto the mattress to hold himself up over her.

“Yeah? Please? You missed me, angel?”

“Oh my god…” she moaned as she felt his tip press against her entrance, “Yes. Oh my god, I missed you.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches so he could watch as he entered her. It was his favorite view. The way she spread open, the tight little snap of him entering her clenching muscle, how nicely she took all of him. He pushed in and pulled back, wetting himself as he inched in further and further. She was sopping and had coated his condom in her drippy juices. He moaned as he dipped in deeper and watched her mouth drop open in relief at the feel of him stuffing her pussy.

When he’d gotten in balls deep he sighed, “Oh fuck, angel. I’m gonna treat you so good.” And he didn’t just mean while he was fucking her. He meant it in every way one could. He was going to treat her exactly as she deserved.

 When he began to thrust in and out with long and languid strokes, the poke into her belly was toe-curling. She’d missed the way his cock felt and missed him. Missed him more than anything.

The patting of their skin slapping together wetly sounded as good as it felt. Harry moaned and Y/n gasped. He was deep. It was as if he’d somehow grown in size since he’d been away but she was sure it was just because Harry was Harry. She liked his dick but she just really liked him.

Harry had a nice grip on her thighs to keep them spread so he could have an unobstructed image of what he was doing to her, “God your little hole is just taking me, baby…” he groaned.

She peered up at him, his abs and his thighs flexing as he worked himself into her steadily. Every time he plunged in he nudged himself into her with a quick buck at the end to push himself as far in as he could get, causing her to jolt upward and whimper at the ache.

“Your cock… oh god Harry…” she didn’t know what she was trying to say. Except maybe just that she was really enjoying him. A compliment to how good he felt. How good he was.

Harry rhythmically rocked into her and released one of her thighs to use his thumb on her clit. He softly smoothed his pad over her sticky and aroused nub and she gasped. Harry grinned at her as she reached down to feel the mess they were making, her fingers slipping next to his and then lower, to feel where his cock was sliding in and out, spreading her pussy apart, the wet hair at his base, his balls as they nudged into her when he buried himself in.

“My cock? Yeah? That feel good inside you?”

“Yes, fuck… your gonna make me come so hard,” she moaned her words as she kept her fingers held against the spot where he was pushing into her, slick and creamy.

“Feel that? Feel how wet you get for me? How hard you make me?” He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingers glided along his balls and he stilled his hips, grinding himself into her. She was forced to move her fingers back up to her clit as Harry grasped her hips and pulled her over him so she could feel just how deep he was.

“God I wish I could fuck you without a condom. Come inside of your sweet cunt and fill you up like you deserve.”

She moaned at his words and the way he was buried inside of her guts. Her eyes fluttered closed as she continued to finger over her clit. That sounded exactly like what she wanted too. Wanted to feel him pouring into her and then watch it leak out slowly as he stuffed it back in with his tip.

“Oh my god, Harry. That sounds good…” She looked down at where his pelvis was pasted to hers as he circled his hips into her.

“Yeah? Gonna make you mine, baby and then I’m gonna fuck you raw and come inside of you over and over again. You want that?”

Nodding her head, she had a pained, fucked-out expression on her face, “Yess…” she panted.

Harry leaned over her body, not able to resist kissing her any longer. He needed his mouth on hers immediately.

The quick change of position had Y/n gasping as Harry shifted over her and pressed his lips to hers. The smooth strokes of his cock started up again as he planted his mouth over hers and licked against her tongue.

Intimate. That’s what it was. Harry was intimate but it felt especially real. Especially meaningful. She tried not to think about how soft and loving he was being with her because it felt so much like what someone would do if he was in love.

But then suddenly he took her hand and wound his fingers into hers, pressing their joined hands into the bed next to the pillow her head was on, as he continued thrusting and kissing. That gesture totally tipped her mind into that place she didn’t want to go. That place that told her he was just as into her as she was into him. That he wanted her and only her.

She bent her knees and planted her feet flat, lifting her hips upward each time he pushed in. It was wet and hot between them. Harry’s body over hers was solid and strong as he fucked into her with everything he had. She felt it too. Felt him put his whole body into each thrust.

Their hands stayed wound together tightly as Harry licked into her mouth. They parted only for gasps of air and to let out whimpers and moans.

“Please, Y/n…” Harry whispers against her lips before opening his mouth over hers and smoothing them together, closing his mouth around her tongue and then pressing his tongue passed her lips. She wanted to ask him why he said please but her brain was scrambled and focused on the way their bodies moved together. How good he felt. How good she felt.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. She was certain Harry could hear it too. His pelvis stayed pressed into her clit and each time he stuffed himself into the hilt he undulated his hips as she tilted her own pelvis into him.

“Oh fuck!” She cried when Harry hit something inside of her that made her body tingle. She’d felt nothing like it before but she was sure it wasn’t just something physical he was nudging into. It was something emotional. She was doomed to his charm. Doomed to fall for him whether she wanted to or not. But how could she not?

Harry pushed himself up, his hands still wrapped around hers, “Okay, angel?” His soft, beautiful eyes would haunt her. Dark lashes and a dark limbal ring that lined his already perfect shade of green…

“It just… it feels so good, Harry. You’re making me feel so good,” she panted her words.

Harry dragged his gaze from her eyes down to her tits, “Want you to ride me, okay? Want to see how you fuck yourself on me.”

Nodding her head Harry slid himself out with a soft hiss as he grasped his cock and watched the tiniest bit of liquid gush from her pussy. She’d only gotten wetter as he fucked her.

Harry took her hand and brought it to his lips, “What are you doing to me, Y/n?”

She sat up as they kept their eyes locked and Harry grasped the back of her neck and kissed her again. They sat in the middle of his massive bed, both on their knees, naked and kissing urgently until Harry sat back and pulled Y/n with him, dragging her body over his, never letting their lips part.

She straddled his lap as he grasped her hips and pressed her wet cunt to his impossibly hard erection. When he’d finally laid his back into the mattress she placed her palms over his pecs and felt his hands at her ass, guiding her up so she could put him back in as quickly as possible.

Letting her fingertips travel over his chest, feeling the hair on her palm, the sturdy muscle under his soft skin, she scraped lightly and leaned down to lick his nipple. She smiled when he moaned and as badly as she wanted to have his cock back inside of her she needed to show her affection to his gorgeous body. At least a little.

Moving her lips to his other side she licked over his pebbled nippled and looked up at his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth was dropped open. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as she nipped with her teeth gently.

Harry groaned and opened his eyes, lifting his head to watch her work over him with her teeth and her tongue, “Fuck, baby.”

Y/n grinned and lifted her mouth from his skin, “Harry, your body is fucking incredible. I could lick and kiss it all day long.”

With her eyes on his she leaned down and stuck out her pink tongue to drag up from the underside of his peck up to his other nipple. She pulled it into her mouth and scraped her teeth over it before kissing it. She dotted warm pecks upward to his clavicle and licked as she went.

Harry’s whimpers grew desperate as he watched her lick and kiss his skin. But he needed to have her on him. His cock was aching and with the sweet and adoring attention she was giving him with her tongue and her lips he was going mad.

Harry grasped her hips and the pathetic whine that fell from his throat had her peeking up at him again, “Please, angel. I need you to fuck me.”

And well, that was all it took. He had said please after all. She lined up herself over his tip and began to sink over him, her pelvis tilted into him, “Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you now. God I need you too…” they moaned loudly as she slid over him until her pussy lips were kissing the very base of his cock.

She kept her hands pressed to his chest as she gently rocked herself over him. Harry moved her up and down slowly, keeping his hands on her bottom, and watched her pretty face contort at the feel of him splitting her pussy apart on his big cock.

“God you’re already creaming all over baby. So fucking wet I can hear it.” Harry spoke through gritted teeth. He loved the way she looked on top, her tits gently jiggling at each roll of her hips, her wet mouth dropped open, her eyes fluttering open and closed in ecstasy.

“You make me so wet, Harry. No one gets me wet like you. I need you…” she groaned as she bucked her hips down over him.

“Yeah? Need me, baby? I can tell…” he gasped when she clenched over him, “Can tell by the way you’re fucking yourself on me. Gonna get yourself off on my cock, angel?”

Y/n keened when Harry lifted his hips up the tiniest bit, forcing his cock deeper yet. A delicious sting.

“Harry… fuck!”

Harry breathed in a shaky breath and pulled at her elbow to bring her body down toward his. He wanted more contact. Wanted her closer. Wanted to kiss her as they both released together because he could tell she was nearly there.

The moment her lips were pressed to his he bent his knees slightly and tilted his pelvis upward so he could thrust into her as she fucked herself down onto him. Wet squelches and soft gasps surrounded them as they kept their bodies connected, on edge, trembling.

One of Harry’s hands smoothed down to her bottom while he took his other to bring her fingers into his. He wanted it sensual, erotic, soft, lusty. There was something about fucking Y/n and having his lips on hers and her hand in his that was making his heart swell with affection. He’d never have enough of her.

She shivered over him and he knew it wasn’t because she was cold. There was no way her body was cold with the way they had been going at it. No. He knew her shiver was because she felt it. Felt what he was. Knew this was it for them.

Her breasts were smushed into Harry’s chest and her thighs were squeezing around him as she continued pushing herself down over him. Her small hand in his with her fingers threaded between his was warm.

“Shit… you coming baby?” Harry felt her limbs tense and the tight muscle at her entrance grip around his cock in pulses.

“Fuck… yess! Fuck!” She couldn’t stop her orgasm from finding its way to the surface. She hadn’t expected it to burst out of her so quickly but having her hand surrounded by his while his cock was buried inside of her was not a casual sex move and that notion alone had her spinning out of control.

He was holding her hand and kissing the edge of her mouth through it all and now that she was coming around him, he squeezed her hand tighter and whispered to her through her orgasm, “There you go, angel. Made for me, aren’t you? My good girl…” she writhed and whimpered in her climax and he could tell it felt good. Could tell she was getting what she deserved.

Harry let her spasm around him for a moment longer until he couldn’t hold on for another second. He lifted his hips and gasped as he spurt into his condom. Gushes of hot come filling the rubber tip as he throbbed inside of her.

She felt his prick pump against her slick walls as he came. His breath was caught in his throat as he released into his condom. The grasp he had on her hand was locked down hard. She would have complained that it hurt but the last thing she wanted to do was have him release her in any way. She always wanted this with him. The closeness, the intimacy. The insane connection they had.

When Harry finally filled his lungs with air and his face relaxed her felt her slumped into his chest. He loosened his grip on her hand but didn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go. Never.

She’d passed out. Simply exhausted after Harry had handled her body like he owned it. Exhausted after giving every inch of his body her attention and love because damn did he deserve it. He was breathtaking. The man deserved to be worshipped. He was stunning and the way he gave himself to her was mind-blowing.

.           .           .

Blinking her eyes open the morning light was barely peeking through the window. It must have been super early. He was still asleep next to her. Hair a mess, cheeks smushed, small breaths puffed out from his mouth (he slept with his mouth opened she learned after the few times they’d slept together).

She was feeling something deeper for Harry than she wanted. The guilt about ignoring Jimmy and going home with another man was eating at her. Jimmy didn’t deserve that. He was a nice guy. A normal guy. But Harry was different. And it wasn’t just because he was hot and famous. It was because they understood one another in a way that she didn’t know if she’d ever get to with Jimmy. And that didn’t feel great.

Especially because Harry was… well he was Harry Styles. Falling for him would be dangerous and she’d have her heart broken. She could fall for him too. Another round of sex like they’d had the night before and it would be over for her. She’d tip over the edge of no return and need him in a way he’d never need her. She might just have to settle for Jimmy in that case. Perhaps that would really be as good as it could get for her.

Slowly slipping out of his bed she went to the bathroom with her phone.

She powered it back on and cringed when she had a couple of missed notifications from Jimmy. Not only had she kind of betrayed his trust and slept with someone else after he asked her to come over, but she wasn’t totally honest with Harry either. Hadn’t told him about the guy she’d been dating. A guy she was working on getting to know and could see herself dating long-term. Well, she could have seen Jimmy as someone long-term had it not been for Harry being so goddamn perfect.

Could she see herself with Harry long-term? She could actually but the reality was he probably didn’t see her in the same way. She chalked up his words and the intimacy with him just being a very sensual and sexual and vulnerable man. He was probably that way with everyone he slept with. She didn’t want to assume it was because he liked her just as much as she liked him.

Splashing her face with water she sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew what she needed to do. To protect herself. To make things right.

She needed to go home and tell Jimmy everything. And then she needed to decide if she could see herself being exclusive with Jimmy or not. Could she settle? She’d let Harry get under her skin. She didn’t know how he’d done it so fast but maybe it was just his natural charm. Whatever it was, she knew Harry would be okay. Knew it was unlikely that he felt anything close to how she was feeling.

Her Uber driver arrived faster than she thought. She rushed out of Harry’s bedroom, down the stairs, and out the door, before she even had time to write a little note. She fully intended on doing that but it was too late. It was time to put it all behind her. Maybe this was going to get Harry out of her system once and for all.

But she could be dumb at times.

.           .           .          

Instead of coming clean to Jimmy right away, she broke down the moment she got into her bedroom. She regretted everything. The way she handled Jimmy. The way she gave in to Harry. The way she left Harry without saying goodbye.

What was she thinking? She was too young to be going through a midlife crisis but she was at an age where she needed to grow up and start making big girl decisions. Settle down with a good man. Jimmy was surely that man. A normal guy. Someone in her league. But maybe she so easily gave in to Harry because Jimmy still had his dating profile active and that stayed with her in the back of her mind. Their casual dating relationship meant they were allowed to see who they wanted.

But Harry was… There was something there. Something else that she didn’t have with Jimmy. That she wasn’t sure she’d ever have. But that was why she needed to cut it out with the famous man. He was famous. He was exceptional in so many ways and there was simply no way he’d feel for her what she felt for him. He was too good to be true.

The messages from both men continued through the day. She shut her phone off when she got to work. She just couldn't face it. Couldn’t deal with it. Tomorrow. She’d figure it out tomorrow. Explain everything to Jimmy and to Harry. Harry would be okay. She knew he would be. He’d probably felt relief that she didn’t stay in fact. Made it easier for him so he didn’t have to break it to her that that should be their last time together. Though, she hadn’t read any of the messages he sent (she simply couldn’t bring herself to) she was sure he would be the easy one to deal with. Jimmy, though… She hoped he’d forgive her. But she knew she needed to call it off with Jimmy as well. Nice enough, a great guy for just about anyone. But maybe not for her. Especially not when she couldn’t stop comparing him to Harry. So she’d made up her mind. She’d call Jimmy the following day and sort things out with him. Tell him they had a good run and then that would be that.

But sometimes things in life don’t always go as one imagines. Do they?

With her phone shut off, she had missed the calls and the subsequent texts from both men. She had not realized that they’d both texted her that they were going to be waiting for her at her house when she got home because they needed to talk. She had not imagined pulling up to her little rented bungalow to see three men standing in her front yard.

There was Brad, mediating the whole scene, standing between the two men she’d been ignoring for the entirety of the day.

Then there was Jimmy with a red face and posture that told her he was feeling quite insecure about something. Of which she was sure she had a good idea.

And there was Harry. Pacing. With his hands in his hair and his mouth moving as he said something that had him excited.

The three men suddenly stopped as she pulled in front of the house. All three sets of eyes on her. She had been avoiding simply responding to them. Assuming she’d have time to get her thoughts together. But now she had no choice. She was being forced to confront them.

Harry began to walk toward her car first. But then Jimmy followed too. Both men spoke to one another animatedly as she opened the door.

“Nahh… back off man,” Harry spoke to Jimmy but kept his eyes toward Y/n.

“No. I’m not going to back off…” Jimmy quickened his pace when he noticed she’d gotten out of her car.

“Y/n…” Brad spoke over the two bickering adults, “You probably have some explaining to do to these two. Do you mind taking over here?”

“I… yeah. Of course. I’m so sorry, Brad.” She looked between the three men as Brad waved and walked back into the house.

Jimmy’s face was bright red, “Y/n, tell him we’ve been dating. He seems to think you are his girlfriend.”

Looking at Harry she opened her mouth to respond but stopped at the insinuation that Harry implied she was his girlfriend.

Girlfriend?

Stepping into her yard Harry stood in front of her and then Jimmy next to him both men looking at her in question.

“Uh… I’m… I don’t know what to say. I’ve been dating Jimmy,” she gestured at the man and looked at Harry, “but we’re not exclusive, and then… Well, I saw Harry last night,” she stuttered her words. Her heart was pounding. She was not looking like a good person in this situation. But it was too late now.

“I don’t care that you were dating someone. What happened between us last night… that meant something to you. Didn’t it?” Harry spoke as he gently brushed his fingers against hers, a little spark of life, a signal that he was there and she was safe with him.

She was a bit stunned by all this. Hadn’t expected Harry to say that. Hadn’t expected to see both men in her yard, apparently arguing over her.

“But we’ve been dating for almost 2 months. I think she and I have something special. And I know we haven’t specifically said we were exclusive but–“

“Well, I’ve known her for nearly… what 5, 6 months now?” Harry looked at her as he spoke.

Y/n stood still looking from Harry to Jimmy who continued, “So what is it? Are you with me or are you with him? I didn’t know you were dating someone else.” He was flustered. In comparison to Harry, he was not calm nor gentle.

“I… I’m sorry,” She shook her head and felt her face grow hot and her head dizzy. She was embarrassed.

There wasn’t anything else to say. Except that she was sorry. She really had liked Jimmy. But with the way she folded so fast with Harry, she knew she didn’t like Jimmy as much as she assumed. Because all Harry had to do was say a few nice things to her to get her back to his place and in his bed. She was a weak bitch. What could she say except sorry?

“Look. I’m sorry. Both of you. I have some explaining to do and I was going to… but why are you both here?”

“I came here to talk about this morning with you, Y/n. You left without goodbye and didn’t respond to my texts,” Harry spoke first.

“And you didn’t text me back last night when I thought we were making plans. I was worried about you.”

Blinking her eyes she realized without a doubt, that she was the heavy here. The rotten one. This was all her fuckup. Both men came to find her because she’d blown them both off. Ran away from her problems.

But she fully intended on being truthful. She just needed a minute.

“Fuck.” She cursed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was going to talk to you both. I just… I don’t know. I felt bad that I flaked out on you, Jimmy. I was never going to meet up with you last night after work and I should have told you that off the bat. And I was going to tell you but then I saw Harry and… I just felt guilty so I figured I’d apologize later.”

“That’s… kind of fucked up, Y/n,” Jimmy said as he put his hands on his hips.  

She nodded and looked at him. He was upset, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“And so you didn’t want to come see me last night because of him?” He gestured toward the man standing to his left.

Shaking her head she looked from Jimmy to Harry, “No. Before I even realized Harry was at the restaurant for dinner I planned on just going back home after my shift. I just never got around to telling you that. I didn’t want to see you last night.”

“But you went back to Harry’s house?” Jimmy asked.

She sighed, nodding, “Yes. I didn’t plan on it. It just happened.”

The silence was all-consuming. Y/n didn’t want to look at Jimmy’s disappointed face any longer so she glanced at Harry whose energy was opposite of Jimmy's. He was all soft eyes with a gentle expression. Comforting. She smiled at him. He felt safe.

“Okay. Fair enough,” Jimmy spoke suddenly, “So that’s it? Should I expect to hear from you again or…” he shrugged and looked at her hoping to hear something that gave him anything to hang on to.

Should he expect to hear from her? She liked him. She really did. But she could see it now that she didn’t like him enough. Even if perhaps she and Harry didn’t wind up together, the way she fell into Harry’s bed so easily and the way she lit up at Harry’s smile in that moment. The way he made her feel… it was over with Jimmy. She’d never feel that way with him.

“I think that’s it. Yeah. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m not sure what I was thinking but… I think this has run its course. I’m sorry,” she shook her head at the whole situation. She felt awful. Jimmy had been nothing but kind. But she just wasn’t feeling it she guessed. Not when she was feeling so much more with Harry.

She watched Jimmy walk away to his car and felt Harry’s hands pull at hers, “It meant something. Didn’t it?”

Looking up at the tall man in confusion she responded, “What?”

“Last night. I know you left without saying anything but now I get it. You were feeling guilty about that bloke. Right?”

Swallowing thickly she nodded, “Yeah… I just… I don’t know why I went back with you but it felt natural and this morning I was overwhelmed with guilt and didn’t really know what you wanted. You know?” She raised her brows and continued, “You’re… you. You’re Harry Styles. I’m just… me. Felt like I was playing some silly game with myself that was just gonna get me hurt.”

Harry’s hands cupped her face softly, “No games. I like you a lot. Couldn’t stay away from you. Last night felt like the beginning of something really special and I hoped you felt it too.”

She stayed silent as she looked into his eyes. His warm hands on her skin felt soft and tender. His thumbs grazed her cheekbones and she felt it. She did. She knew exactly what he meant. To hear him say it, though…

“I need to know what that means for you. Because, yeah. I felt it. I just don’t want to get hurt, Harry. You’re gonna go back on tour and you’ll see your ex and some other woman and I’m gonna get left behind again–“

“My ex? I didn’t see my ex. Nor do I have plans for that,” he laughed softly as he spoke.

“Well, I mean… I did see her post about crossing paths with someone and that cross necklace,” she shook her head and felt silly for even bringing it up as she looked at the expression on Harry’s face.

“She called me and I answered. She thought that meant something but really it was just me being nice. I don’t miss her at all. Have no intention of seeing her again on any level.”

She nodded at his words, “And the pretty woman that was with you on tour. Lots of rumors there too. Which is fine! You’re totally allowed to see other–“

Harry pulled her in close, stopping her mid-sentence, “She’s a friend. Someone I trust who I can vent to and confide in. She gave me lots of advice about you, angel. Told me to go after you. Told me she hadn’t seen me so excited about anyone ever before. I couldn’t stop talking about you.”

“So, you never slept with her?”

Harry shook his head and fit his fingers between hers, blinking softly, “Never. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Now she felt really bad. He’d been missing her and thinking of her all the while she was off with Jimmy trying to erase Harry from her mind, “I had no idea. I’m sorry that I didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I admit, I didn’t try hard enough to stay in touch. That’s on me. But I don’t want that to ever happen again.”

“But now you must really think I’m trash. After all that?”

Harry shook his head, squeezing her hand, “Not at all, angel. I want to be with you. Don’t want you with anyone else, though,” he laughed, “And I’m not gonna think about whatever you had going on with that guy because you were just trying to get to know someone else. You thought it was over with us. But I don’t want it to be over. I want it to be me and you.”

She stood stunned. She just hadn’t expected any of this but it was more than she could have hoped for. She genuinely thought she’d misread all the signs. Yes, last night it felt like intimacy and deep connection but figured that was all coming from her end. She had tricked herself into believing he didn’t feel the same.

“Well? What do you think? Would you want to be my girlfriend? Make it official?”

She swallowed the grit down her throat and blinked her eyes at Harry. It all felt like a dream. Surely it was a dream.

“I do want that. So much, but…” she shook her head just as Harry grinned wide.

“So you’re my girlfriend now?”

Y/n puffed out a laugh and nodded, “I guess so. Yeah.” She couldn’t tamper her smile.

Harry released one of her hands and gently held the back of her neck as he leaned down to kiss her. And just like every other time her lips connected with his, she felt flushed and buzzy. Her skin prickled with excitement. Her sinuses burned as she held back stupid tears.

But she needed to say something else. And if this fiasco had taught her anything it was that she needed to be better at communicating.

Parting from the kiss, Harry kept her in his arms as she tilted her head to look up at him, “But what happens when you leave again, Harry? To another city? Another country? What does that mean for us?”

He brought his lips to her forehead before looking down at her again, his crystalline green eyes taking her in. He inhaled a deep breath, a serious expression on his face suddenly that had Y/n worried about the next words he was going to speak, “Come with me.”

He squeezed her closer if that were possible and she opened and closed her mouth a few times, shocked at his words and at what was happening. It was crazy, wasn’t it? To just leave everything behind and travel with Harry wherever he went? Surely this was just a beautiful dream she’d be waking from at any minute.

Harry shook his head and the edge of his pink lips quirked up on one side, “I won’t take no for an answer.”

A/N: This is the last part of this series! What did you guys think? Would you like to see some more of these two? Thank you so much for reading!

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[themareverine]

Closer to Hell | shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: He may be five inches closer to hell than she is, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch. 

warnings: flirtation, short king!Logan (don't come for me), ogling, eye candy, absolutely nothing else but filthy thoughts, maybe some eye fucking.

a/n: it's my 100 celebration fic, yay me! i recently rolled over to 110 i think during the holiday, and i wanted to do something super fun for my 100 celly. i decided to play with comics-accurate, short king Logan, because i feel like we really don't appreciate him all that much. a small part of my brain hasn't stopped thinking about him. thanks to all my followers, you guys make me possible on this website, and without your interaction and all your fun stuff, life really would be so much more boring.

“Monkey Shoulder, neat—if you got it.” 

Fingers pause, hovered over a tablet that looks as if it’s been to hell and back, only to survive the purgatory that is staring into the bartender’s face. Maybe forties, gray has overtaken the once-striking ruddiness of his beard, crows feet all but eating the templepieces of too-thick glasses perched on the end of his nose. 

Once gawking at her has clocked enough time, he bats aside the tablet, the screen swiveling away, maybe in relief. 

Curious if he’ll actually serve the scotch—it’s about the fourth bottle from the left of the very back row of liquors lined against the mirrored wall, not a cheap bottle by any means. Hardly top-shelf, either. An unusual request, sure, but, she’s always made a habit of trying out the screwy names when she’s traveling—and in this dress, in this bar, well. Exceptions certainly can’t be made. Cool vinyl of the barstool’s plush nips at the back of her legs as she plunks down, docking her heels on the bottom rung of the stool. 

“Whatever you say, swee’heart,” gaps in his teeth make pronunciation difficult, but he nods at her respectfully. Lithe, practiced grace turns him aboutface on his heel, short fingers plucking the bottle from that very back shelf. Mirrored reflection reveals a popped brow of we’ll see how this goes. Giving the bottle a little swirl, the copper liquid spins a tornado, wild and dangerous in its glass prison. Unstops the bottle with a jerk of his wrist, the little pop tipping up the corner of her lips. 

Seconds, maybe, and the short glass plunks down in front of her, untouched scotch all but begging to be acknowledged. Her finger lazily traces the rim, even from here she can taste the bark of the liquor, how it hums. Warm and biting, her chest flutters with anticipation—of all the drinks she’s sampled over the years, scotch is a favorite. Next to whiskey, but, whiskey she’s had plenty of the last few days. Scotch will be a nice tamer, something to shake up the night—shake up the thoughts burrowing trenches through the arteries and cavities in her chest. 

Sliding him her credit card, it’s plastic bites against the bartop. Watching him log the number, he hands it back. She buries it against the band of her bra, against her sternum. Eyes rolling, the bartender trudges away as if he’s witnessed some great atrocity, down the other end of the bar—takes an order with hushed whispers, leaving her to eyeball her scotch in solidarity. Silence. 

Friday and however much this dress would all but stand up and demand attention, she’s alone. But that’s no great sorrow—to be alone and actually let it eat away at the marrow in her bones would mean it is unwelcome, unfamiliar. Solo is all too familiar, rent free on her person–the devil and angel parked on either shoulder, guiding her through moments. It’s been this way her entire life, sparkling personality and sunshine attitude aside. Loudest wallflower to ever exist, perfectly forgettable—she’s great company when she’s seen, otherwise all too invisible. It’s learned behavior, expected of society’s less fortunate. 

A quick flick of her foot has the barstool swiveling, her elbow parked on the bar behind her. Eyeballing the room quickly reveals that, wallflower that she is—she’s an overdressed one, at that. And she could, probably, forgive herself. Hadn’t exactly expected Mulligan’s to be an axe-throwing venue, complete with Toby Keith on repeat and flannel-clad lumberjack wannabees and their buckle bunnies—axe bunnies? 

A sip of the scotch has her nose scrunching a little, the splash in the back of her throat almost hot,  even at room temp. Two lines to her right, a cute blonde does one hell of a job playing dumb as her date comes up behind her, helping her take stance. All but popping her ass back into his pelvis, there is not a stitch of air between them that could be breathed—he’s a little unbalanced. Probably that last Coors, she’s giggly and her face is red as a beet. Probably one too many Mich Ultra’s. Together they crack up into laughter, before she actually makes an attempt to throw an axe, dressed in cutoffs and a flannel shirt a size too large, knotted off at the midriff. 

Maybe should’ve Googled that one pre-game, but, as her grandmother had always chided, Better to be overdressed than under, baby. Besides, a little black sundress was acceptable just about anywhere—the heels could be overdoing it, though. Down goes another bite of scotch, and she’s perfectly content to watch blondie and her backwards-ballcap date tiptoe around the goings-on of pre-sex, until movement to her left catches her attention. 

Pool tables racked with activity, there couldn’t be one more girlie in tight jeans or shorts leaning over green felt if the men had decided to make room. Each man at the table sports arm candy, some even two, full peacock with open chests and lifted chins. Stetsons, ballcaps, even a few beanies make a fine cocktail of male specimens, all bullshitting around ripped up pool tables and scuffed wooden floors. Beer bottles, pint glasses, liquor mottles here and there, hanging out on tables and pool table edges like trophies. Evidence of presence, of time spent. Side-eying the exchange of money isn’t difficult—they make a show of it, as if this is theatre. Shifts on her barstool as their jibes and shoulder-claps get a little more elevated, a little more colorful. 

Too absorbed in watching the flock of men around the pool table, she misses the slight creak of a barstool accepting weight to her right. Jumps a little when the air bristles beside her, signaling a new body—someone else at the bar, too close for comfort. Too close to be ignorant. Especially when there’s nobody at the bar, taking up air. Just her and her simple Monkey Shoulder, just her and the defeat that sinks her shoulders a little as realization hits. 

She doesn’t have to check if it’s a man—his presence is overwhelming, almost dizzying. Masculine and purposeful, but not in a way that sends shivers down her spine. A quiet kind of energy, like the air before a storm. Unmoving but oh so deliberate, ripe with power. As if any moment something may collapse in on itself, rip open the air—but chooses, instead, to prowl. Like a tower, overlooking, but not imposing. Temperature, too, has spiked—whoever has just parked beside her ripples with heat like an inferno, it’s nearly tangible against her skin. Thick cologne swirls, a delicious idea beneath her nose that smells like musk, pine. Sweat and smoke–exhaust. Bike, maybe. 

Unsure whether the flush lifting from her breastbone to her cheeks is the scotch or the newcomer, she uses her foot to swivel back around, leaning forward to rest her arms over the bar. Thin glass between her fingers rings a little as her nail tick, tick, ticks against it, and staring into the coppery swirl of booze allows her a little bit of a casual side-eye to the man who has parked himself at her now eleven o’clock. 

Hair the color of midnight is full and thick, almost tinges a bit of sapphire under the fluorescents that dare to flicker a little above them. Even beneath full mutton chops, she can see the sharp line of a jaw—strong nose, purposeful brow. A striking profile, as he stares at his hands—thick hands, strong. Massive, more paw than actual hands, if she were poetic about it. Calloused, even from here. A troop of ebony hair forests his arms, thick and wiry—does little to hide the absolutely godlike muscle that all but stands up and demands recognition.

Arms no less than small trees, her eyes zero in on his veins, veins that may as well have their own ZIP—if careful, she could watch his blood actually current. Count the flutter of his pulse—intrusive thoughts win. She would give limb, soul to just hook up him to an IV and drink of whatever raw sexuality God had poured into his form.  

It’s easy to take in the rest of him—thick chest, well muscled would be an insulting adjective. She wouldn’t believe, for a moment, there was a percentage of fat on his person, not the way his jeans clung to his thighs. Unaware they made belts so small for adults, she’d never seen a narrower waistline. And abdominals—God Himself had only crafted those, broke the mold. Even from beneath whatever sad excuse of a threadbare black v-neck he’d thrown on this morning, they were washboard. She’d bet her life. 

Oh my god, of all the men— 

And just as quickly as she’d ventured off into whatever pornography such a man conjures up into brainspace, he shifts a little. Situates himself on his barstool—sits back, hand on his thigh, other draped along the bar easily in that only-a-guy way. And her gut all but plummets into hell between her feet—the floor could be stained with her own blood and she wouldn’t have flinched. What’s-his-name commands every molecule between them, could split atoms with his raw sexuality, probably. Every movement is like living color, and she swears to God she can feel her ovaries kicking into overdrive. 

Eyes snapping back to her own feet, she rocks her heels back on the barstool’s rung, bottom lip rolling inward to consider just how flushed she felt. Heart hammering the marrow in her bones, she can all but taste the sweat that’s racing down the river of spine, dampening the delicate lace of her panties. Blinking, she manages a steady breath between her lips, trying not to think about the bite of scotch lingering on her breath. Aware that her hands are shaking, she knocks back the rest of the scotch. Cracks the glass back to the bar’s wood all too aggressively. 

Somehow the bartender materializes in front of her, like Houdini. Or maybe Satan—she hasn’t decided. 

“What’re you having again?” 

If it's even possible to forget, she isn't sure, but her eyes connect with his. Thankful for the distraction. Movement to her eleven o’clock signal fires in her brain—her partner at the bar has, without saying anything, entered this conversation. Or, at the very least, made himself aware. 

“Monkey Shoulder,” she brushes some curl behind her ear, “neat. Double it, please.” 

It’s too fast, too nervous to be genuine. But it is, and of its own volition, her spine straightens a little. As if such a thing is a sin—shoulders fall back, her gaze drops to her hands. Bartender all but plucking the glass from between her hands, he travels back down the bar—retrieves the bottle, which he has somehow managed to forget. She watches him go like a desperate child, all too aware that the man beside her’s eyes have raked down her form, considering. Up and down—her heart flies, almost out of her chest. 

A barstool creaks, and it isn’t hers. Oh god.  

There’s always that little something that strikes the air—he’s going to say something. Her eyes flutter closed, imaging his lips parting and closing off syllables and consonants, forming words. It’s a delicious little thought that quickly ventures into ratings not suitable for children, and she has to bite the inside pocket of her cheek to anchor her back into the reality of the bar—because she’s, very suddenly, not here. Not as present and accounted for as an unescorted woman drinking should be, God help her. 

Scotch appears before her almost fantastically. Reaching for it, the glass suddenly is heavier than the earth between her fingers as she knocks it back, entirely. In one sharp, flaming go. It spins her senses in a tilt, and the world all but flips—managing the glass back to the wood somehow, she anchors herself. Two hands on the edge of the bar, white knuckling for purchase. Eyes pinched so tight she can feel her mascara brushing against the sensitive skin beneath her eyes, she releases a low growl that’s more of a moan than anything. 

“Now there’s someth’n you don’t see everyday,” a dark, wolfish chuckle. “Don’t think I’ve seen a lady down two scotch’s back to back without breathin’ before.” 

Mother of God, it’s low. And dangerous. She wouldn’t have heard a nuclear explosion if it had detonated directly to her left, the immaculate conception had only ever been so beautiful. And if he’s tagged anything on to his statement she’s missed it, blood galloping through her ears at such a rate it should alert the Kentucky Derby to put her at the starting gate. 

A steel beam would’ve been preferable to the heat dropping into her spinal column, his chuckle rattling low in a way that, obviously, is deliberate. And she’s more bolt upright than she has ever recalled in her lifetime, soldiers would patent whatever form this was for their ranks—he shifts on his barstool to face her, and she’s suddenly Icy Hot all over. Simultaneously hot and cold, shivering and flaming—Antarctic air and Vesuvius smoke. Words lap her brain like a pace car, but none form in the back of her Sahara-cracked throat. 

Blanking, first she stares at the empty glass between her fingers. Then to the stranger, who’s arm rests along the bar like it was designed for him. Spider to the fly, the little smirk tugging up the corner of his lips gets lost in the dark hairs of his beard and chops, the swirl of shadow that chases light in his eyes like nightmares. All kinds of predator, she doesn’t miss his eyes flicking over her—it’s quick, practiced. You’d miss it if one wasn't looking, but nothing about this man could be ignored. He demanded to be seen, though she suspected by the cool smile and the dark clothes, he would’ve preferred to be anything but noticed. But such beauty demanded attention, otherwise heaven lied. 

Realizing the conversation is open, he’s waiting, she tracks his words. Again.

And again, and again. 

Swallowing the slight shake to her confidence, her eyes track back to the glass. Hone in on tracing her finger along the rim. And she ignores the souring, burning liquor in the chasm of her gut where the scotch has hit nothing but open air, maybe stones in the base of her that maybe only God could see. 

“Oh.” Oh? OH? Coma patients showed more promising signs of life. “Guess you’ve seen it all?”

Oh my god, ohmygod, OHMYGODDD—

She couldn’t have been any more pathetic if she’d melted into the floor at his feet. Channeling the tremble of thinking into her hands, she nudges the glass away. Pulls it back. Plays with it like an amused cat with a toy, trying to decide if it’s friend or foe—if it's worth the distraction. A flick of her eyes back to the stranger and she suddenly realizes this glass is the only tether she has to the present world beyond this conversation—her only confidence. The only thing giving her an edge. 

And should it be ripped from her, she’d be nothing but a fish out of water—a fat trout gasping for air. 

“Not quite,” whatever he’s drinking, he tosses it back without hesitation. Line of his jaw twitches as the liquor registers, but not in an unwelcome way. “Haven’t seen you before.” Vanishing down the long line of his throat without so much of a flinch, he savors it—his tongue chases whatever lingers in his facial hair. The sight of his tongue, flat and wide, sends her gut twisting into thick knots she can’t even fully describe—his hand moves to smooth over his mouth, as if he’s combing his goatee back into place. 

Without thinking, “Well, here I am,” slips past her lips, matching her arms that open at either of her sides, as if putting herself on display. It’s bolder and far more brash than she could ever credit herself with—Monkey Shoulder. It's booze.

He chuckles, pleasantly she thinks. “Here you are—lucky sonuva bitch, aren’ I?” 

And without warning, he gets up. 

Uncertain what surprises her first, she blinks at him a few times, fluttery lashes drinking in his presence on two feet—he’s short. Like, short short. Not-your-typical-guy-levels of short. Built like a god, maybe closer to a brick house, but he’s at least five inches closer to hell than she is—and she’s five foot eight. Makes up for it in presence, though—if he’d been any taller, people would jump under tables.

Alarmed by the sheer weight of him taking up space, the corner of her mouth lifts a little in a smile. If it’s a confidence killer she wouldn't know, he shifts his shoulders like any man does. Chin leveled with the floor, his eyes catch with the same fierce confidence of any man she’s ever witnessed. Unable to tear her eyes away, the muscle in his forearms twitch alive as he smoothly goes for his jacket, drapes it over an arm. 

Christ alive, he is—wow. 

God’s perfect design, she thinks—he knuckles his glass a little closer. Glass rakes across the bar in a little song, he swings a thick leg over the barstool directly next to hers. Nothing but air between them, now, he sinks low, and she enjoys watching him do so—how his jeans pull just so along thick thighs. How how chest flexes as he angles to drape his jacket along the bar, how thick fingers card through hair she could covet the rest of her living daylights. Closer, she can feel his heat, his masculinity ebbing like an alive river, trailblazing new paths. Looking for her, reading the moment. 

More like a predator than she realized first blush. Biting the corner of her lip, his gaze flicks over her a third time. She matches his effort. Much goes unsaid for a lot of moments, until he introduces himself—Logan. No other name would suit such a man, she thinks—within heartbeats her own name slips between them, between the lines of his popped brow and the question he asks next. 

“You drinkin’ alone, darlin’?” 

Nudging her empty away, Logan offers her a quicksilver look, hooded eyes and a cocked back expression that’s easy, collective. Nonplussed, like this is easy—like it isn’t rattling every bone in her body, taking inventory of every organ and cell raging like wildfire in her veins. Expectation brims, and she lifts a flirtatious shoulder, looking from his hand that lingers on the bar back to his eyes—and they are dark eyes, eyes that belong to only one kind of man. The type of man her daddy had warned her about, that daddy’s all over God’s creation sat up with shotguns over. 

Lovely, focused eyes. Logan knew exactly what he was doing. Few others were such masters. 

“Should I be?” 

Wrinkles that form along his eyes when he smiles are criminal. They belong, she thinks—he wouldn’t be right without them. “Would be worried if you were,” flashing two fingers at the bartender, his eyes move back to her, taking in the full scope of her features, “‘n my experience, pretty girls need someone t’stave off the wolves.” Chin lifted in the direction of the pool table trips her gaze to follow. 

He thinks I’m pretty—and that’s newsworthy, stop the presses. 

Nodding slowly, she fights back a smile. “Ah. I see,” angling to tuck a foot behind the other, her elbow props on the bar, chin in the heel of her palm, “and who’s to say you aren’t a wolf, Logan?”

A tease, of course, but the way his gaze snaps back to her so quickly, one would’ve assumed she’d reached out and slapped him. Darkness through his eyes briefly rustles alarm down her spine, and her hand gently moves to retrace the rim of a refreshed glass as silence crescendos between them. Her anchor, again. A tether to reality, to anywhere beyond the depth of the window's to his soul.  

Knocking back another sharp drink, he rolls a shoulder. “Not really a wolf,” his nose wrinkles a little as he shakes off the idea, eyes moving back to hold hers, “pack animals. Too much competition,” shrugging a shoulder, he chuckles, “besides—too short t’be a wolf, too close to hell. More like a—well, more like’a wolverine, I s’pose.” 

And that makes her giggle, like a child.

“Wait—a wolverine? Aren’t they weasels?” Her head cocks to the side, genuine curiosity wrinkling her nose—he smiles, quicksilver that’s cool, cuts down to parts of her she wouldn’t share elsewhere. Heat rises to her cheeks, deepening the makeup she’d been so deliberate to place earlier in the evening. “How is that better?”

Dissolving into giggles isn’t her style, not usually—but it’s too comedic a mental image to set aside. 

“Brought out that smile, didn’t it?”

Oh. 

She hums, nodding. Tries to hide the fluster of color sneaking up her breastbone to her cheeks. Fails.

“Charming, aren’t you?”

“It’s the scotch.” 

She laughs again, shaking her head. Turns back to the bar, too flushed and girlish to take him seriously—or the weight of his eyes. They bore into her side profile like drills, lapping up the heat on her face. Any second now he’ll come to his senses, she thinks. Conversation would fall flat, too embarrassed to speak and too innocent to flirt—he’d tire of the doe eyes.

They always did. 

Thunk thunk thunking axes hit home on targets far behind them, almost a world away.

She tracks, too sharply, like a desperate animal Logan getting up from his barstool—here it comes. Fishes his wallet from his back pocket. Withdraws more than enough money, actually more money than would be necessary for the entire night. Tosses it on the bar like it’s easy, like it means nothing.

Watching him, chin still in hand, he works into his jacket like guys always manage—in a sexier way than necessary. Pops the collar. He may be five inches closer to hell, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch. 

Tossing back the rest of her scotch, she inhales a deep breath through her nose. Enough to swell her chest, pull her guts in tighter than she thought possible. Disappointment bleeds like a gunshot wound into her chest, mingling with her ribs, and she wills up cold courage. Hands on the bar spin her around on the barstool, lips parted for goodbyes—-

—only to be met with his hand, extended to her. 

“Wanna get outta here?” 

His brow lifts, investigative. Hers are nearly in her hairline, surprise shellshocked her face like broken plaster. Blinking at his hand, her stomach all but explodes when his finger crooks for her to come, to follow.

It’s a wanton gesture, the way his brow bobs teasingly. Corner of his mouth lifting in a way that’s devilish, almost sinful. Asking where to go is hardly necessary—she’d probably follow him into hell, if so persuaded.

Asks anyway. 

“Not sure yet, pretty—but, tell me. How d’ya feel about ridin' double?”

[notsogoodphotographer]

Hi i want to talk about my all time favorite camera 📸

pls ignore all my grammar mistakes, i’m not professional reviewer 😂 i just wanna talk about this camera.

This is the Sony RX1Rii, this is the third and “most recent” version of this camera. i put “most recent” in quotes because this camera is almost 10 years old. don’t like the old age fool you because this camera can keep up with the newest cameras in its niche.

This little point and shoot sports a 42mp full frame sensor. YES, F U L L F R A M E!! This tiny camera is actually smaller than all the x100 series (minus the lens on it). The camera has an incredibly sharp Zeiss Sonnar 35mm f2 glued to. This camera has 399 af points, with eye AF. The camera is incredibly fast and accurate!! the camera is pretty much a tiny packaged Sony A7Rii!

One of my favorite features of this camera is the pop-up EVF! This is a feature that was added to only this version of the camera and it’s a feature that i wish sony continued to incorporate into some of their other smaller cameras like the A7c or a6k series!

The camera does shoot video up to 1080 120fps, but does not have picture profiles such has S-log or HLG. This was a camera made strictly for photos, which is probably for the best because the battery life on this camera is terrible, any kind of prolong video shooting would absolutely burn through these batteries in minutes.

That brings me to my next point, my cons. There’s not many but i figured i’d point them out anyways for those who are interested in this camera. these aren’t make it or break it cons, these are just issues that hinder it from being the greatest camera ever released (IMO)

1) battery life, i believe it’s rated for like 220 shots. Ive definitely gotten it to last twice than that. That tiny body processing all that data on some of the tiniest batteries makes sense why it’s so bad. Luckily batteries are cheap and like i said they’re tiny, so they’re pretty easy to carry around!

2) no picture profiles in video. i know i touched on it briefly up above and this camera is mainly a photo camera AAAAAND hybrid cameras were just beginning to grow in popularity around the time this camera came out but it would’ve been amazing to have s-log in this camera for little snippets here and there. i know at the time IG and other photo sharing apps were mainly photo sharing apps, and a camera that was built strictly for photo has no business having usable picture profiles in video.

3) no crop mode in RAW. this one is weird to me because i know the A7Rii has an APS-C mode where you can shoot RAW photos with an inbody crop and there’s times that i’d love to shoot something at 50mm (35mm + sony’s 1.5x aps-c crop). there is a digital zoom option but that’s for jpg only.

4) PRICE!!!! why the fuck is this camera still being sold for $3200??!! this is a 10 year old camera with outdated tech. i bought mine used for $1900 (which is about the price of the fuji x100V at the time of purchase) and i still think that’s a little too much.

that’s really about it aside from minor complaints of not having tele/ wide converters. i’m also sure all of those cons stem from the small battery. I’d love to see all of these corrected in a Mk3 one day, but as of a couple weeks ago sony just discontinued the Rx1rii’s production. I’m being a little hopeful but maybe that means we’re getting a successor, i doubt it but a boy can dream.

I don’t really do reviews or anything but this camera has had my heart for the past 9 months so i had to show it off/ talk about it. this to me in the perfect everyday camera. it never leaves my side and comes with me to any and every trip! Im always blown away by the photos i create with this little camera and i know whenever a mk3 comes out im going to hop on the chance to buy on immediately!

[blueesnow]

Kotobuki Reiji's Birthday (Year 1) Voicelines Translation.

-You can look at it again on the Event Log, Mini-Event section (for the other boys messages to him) and Talk section (for a one-on-one conversation with you and him) in Idol Page.

-Also the translations might not be fully accurate since I'm not that fluent on jp/en, so if i ever made a mistake do correct me🙏

<You (Player)> Reiji: Thank you for the celebration~! I held a party today, so make sure you come okay Kouhai-chan☆ Reiji: And of course there'll be an afterparty later~☆ The participant will be just you and me. …Will you tell me you're happy about it?

<Otoya> Otoya: Rei-chan, Happy Birthday! As a Senpai-Kouhai duo with a great chemistry, let's continue to have lots of fun together from now on! Reiji: Aww~! You said the cutest thing ever! Onii-san shall do his best to keep up so that he won't lose to Otoyan's growth okay☆

<Masato> Masato: You never forgets to pay attention to your surroundings. Seeing you like that made me want to learn more from Kotobuki-senpai's example. Happy Birthday. Reiji: Hearing that from Hijirin made me so happy~! I should do my best as well to continue being a role model☆

<Natsuki> Natsuki: Happy Birthday! It's always fun being together with Rei-chan-senpai. I think you have an amazing power! Reiji: Thank you—! Nattsun is always happy go lucky so it's worthwhile talking to you☆

<Tokiya> Tokiya: Happy Birthday. Even though it's a joyous occasion, please be careful as to not get carried away, okay? Reiji: Tokki is as strict as usual! But I already knew that's also your way of being kind♪

<Ren> Ren: Happy Birthday, Bukki! Let's go for a drive together again somewhere and refresh ourselves. Reiji: Thank you Ren-Ren☆ I'll go pick out some good places later okay~♪

<Syo> Syo: Reiji-senpai, Happy Birthday! I found a good hat shop, so let's go shopping there together! Reiji: Eh~! If it’s a shop recommended by Syo-tan, then I have high expectations of it☆ Thanks, I'm looking forward to it!

<Cecil> Cecil: Happy Birthday! You've always been so kind to me, so today I will return the favor! Reiji: Cesshi! I'm so happy to hear that I almost burst into tears! To think that's how you thought of me already made my day☆

<Ranmaru> Ranmaru: It's your birthday? Well, Happy Birthday. I have nothing more to say at this point. Whether it's about music or other works, let's put all that we've had into it. Reiji: Why of course! Let's always do our best with our full power☆ I'll accept your celebration wish to me♪

<Ai> Ai: Since it's your birthday, why don't you show a bit of your maturity? Anyway, Happy Birthday Reiji. Reiji: Ai-Ai, thank you~! Don't get burned while looking at the grown-up Rei-chan, okay☆ Ah, don't ignore me!

<Camus> Camus: Since we're in the same group, let's at least celebrate your birthday. So, I assume there'll be a cake later, right? Reiji: Wait a minute~! Geez, Myu-chan you're so dishonest. But thanks for the birthday wish♪

<Eiichi> Eiichi: Looks like it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday. Since we're both the one who's responsible in keeping the group together, I'd like to talk about it sometime with you. Reiji: Thank you~☆ Although I'm not actually the leader, I'm interested in that topic. Do tell me more♪

<Kira> Kira: Happy…Birthday. The ability to create a cheerful atmosphere…and bring people together. It's a charm that I don't have. I'd like to learn it from you. Reiji: The fact that you praised me so seriously made this Onii-san so happy…! Let's learn a lot from each other's good points okay☆

<Nagi> Nagi: Happy birthday☆ I heard you knew a lot of retro words. If you knew something cute, do tell me~♪ Reiji: Ugh, is this what you call a generation gap… You're already cute enough as it is, I don't think you need that~☆

<Eiji> Eiji: Happy Birthday. I think it's so amazing that you've always made the atmosphere on set so relaxing. Reiji: Oh no~ I'm a little embarrassed to be told that by a guy from the different agency☆ It's perfectly OK for you to always imitate me♪

<Van> Van: I heard it's your birthday today, Happy Birthday! In exchange for celebration I have a suggestion, can you put a pizza on the Kotobuki Lunchbox? Reiji: Pizza~!? But, it might be quite a good surprise. I'll go and talk to them about it later☆ Thanks for the advice!

<Yamato> Yamato: Birthday, huh. I'm happy for you. I've always been indebted by this karaage from your place. Let me also express my thanks to you. Reiji: Don't tell me you're actually a big fan of our store!? That's great~♪ Also thanks for the birthday wish too☆

<Shion> Shion: I can feel such a warm vibes from your machocho word. I wish you a happy and prosperous day. Reiji: Don't tell me I'm being praised!? At times like this thank you very very machocho☆ Make sure to use it with HE★VENS too okay♪

[spiderlandry]

honest — lo'ak sully

Description: Lo'ak has been preparing a courting gift for you, but you find out before he can even practice what he'll say. So why have you kept quiet about it?

Pairing: Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x GN!Reader (Na'vi)

Warnings/tags: mostly fluff, jumps around between POVs, courting practices/traditions that i'm not sure is accurate, takes place in the future, au where the events of atwow never happened, small death mention? not edited or proofread sorry

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's note: first time writing for avatar, my obsession has been rekindled since i rewatched both movies so it's going to be everyone's problem. this has been in the drafts for a while and i wanted to edit it but i don't think i ever will

Jake Sully had realized early into his training with Neytiri that a prominent trait of the Na’vi is that they don’t lie. He chalked up her bluntness as a dislike for sky people, and though it was true to some extent, it was also because the concept of lying was almost foreign. Not in their nature. There are no reasons to lie in their books.

Until, of course, time passed.

A new generation emerged that learned to lie a human way. It likely began shortly after the arrival of the Sky People, the destruction of their home along with it. He couldn’t blame them.

Now, as the people have reclaimed the forest, Jake couldn’t help but notice that his children were liars. It started with his oldest lying to get out of training, and it trickled down slowly until he finally realized that Tuk began to feign sickness so she can be pampered.

It’s mostly harmless. Amusing, almost.

But not when it interferes with training, no. Because time and time again he has told his youngest son that it will cost him people’s lives. And just when he thinks Lo’ak is honing his focus, something pulls him away. A cocky attitude, a good idea horribly executed, anything of the sort.

But this time? The Olo’eyktan can’t figure it out.

This is the third time Lo’ak has gone off and ditched training an hour early. Neteyam always covers.

The next day, Jake approaches Lo’ak after dinnertime, before everyone has gone to sleep. The son sits on a log and the father takes the place beside him.

“You’re off your game.” Jake isn’t accusatory, not mad, but he states it as a fact.

Lo’ak can’t look into his father’s eyes. “Sorry, sir.”

The man sighs, breaking down the barrier he had built between him and his own. “Don’t call me sir when we’re not on the field.”

Lo’ak is quiet.

“Why are you off your game?”

“I’ll work on it.”

“Did I ask what you were gonna do about it?”

“You asked why.”

“And?”

Jake doesn’t expect it. Not so bluntly, at least. “I’m preparing a courting gift.”

A smile makes its way onto his face. “Is it for Y/N?”

The boy’s head snaps up at him, “No way,” he shakes his head. “Did Neteyam tell you? When I get my hands on—“

This pulls a laugh out of Jake. “Nobody had to tell me. Hell, your mother probably knew before me.”

“I just want to make sure it’s perfect, okay?”

-

Neytiri watches you interact with her children from afar—the way you let Tuk pull on your tail, how Kiri and Spider smile from atop a branch, Neteyam even going along with the game you invented. Lo’ak sits on the sidelines and watches with an adoration in his eyes she’d never seen until you were introduced to the Sully kids long ago.

It’s almost time for your training. But she lets you hold that time a bit more when she sees how closely you watch for her youngest son even when he sits this one out.

It’s not long until you’re pulled away by Mo’at to practice healing. You spend time with the other healers, shadowing them and watching them work.

Neytiri is showing you a more efficient way to mix paste when she remembers a conversation she had, days ago, with her Jake.

“Lo’ak is preparing to court Y/N.”

From the affections that have seemingly grown between you and her youngest son, she deduced a simple, irrefutable fact: Lo’ak has begun the process of courting you. That would also explain his comings and goings at odd times of day.

“You must be very happy, Y/N.” She cleans up the table, while she watches you recall the motions she performed earlier with the paste.

You hum in agreement.

“Are you excited?”

This doesn’t even remotely catch you off guard, too focused on the task. So you mutter, “for what?”

“That Lo’ak has decided to court you. You seem happy with him.”

You falter—this moment is not lost on Neytiri.

But she’s relieved when you say, almost breathless, “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

-

Neteyam is the witness to a trainweck about to happen.

Something has definitely shifted. Not just the past few days, but ever since Lo’ak first told him about the gifts he has prepared for you.

Weeks ago.

The first few days of comings and goings, Neteyam excused him. But it has been weeks since he’s finished his gifts, and the only thing holding Lo’ak back is himself. Neteyam has been hyping up his brother to give them to you, even making sure that you would get some time alone together despite how busy it is for hunting season, but Lo’ak never takes the plunge.

You and Neteyam are close, no one can deny that. He’s felt a sense of duty to protect you ever since you became part of the family, and more so now that you might actually be officially a Sully once you and Lo’ak become real. He’d be lying if he said he’s not excited at the thought of you being able to hang around and attend family gatherings without feeling like you’re intruding, something you opened up to him about.

Obviously, he knows about your affections for his brother. But it seems you are clueless to Lo’ak’s subtle advances, and he is sick of him moping around because of it.

At night, when the family is cleaning up after eating, they are all chatting around the fire and Neteyam calmly observes the scene, eating yovo fruit.

But their mother says something that puts this entire situation into a crescendo.

“They are quite smitten with you.” She says it as an offhanded comment, and his brother doesn’t respond at first, too focused on tidying up.

But Lo’ak hums. “Who?“

She almost laughs. Neteyam’s eyes widen as it dawns on him that something is about go go very, very wrong.

“Y/N, of course. Who else?”

Lo’ak’s head snaps up in surprise. “Really?” His tail swishes around, unable to contain his excitement.

Okay, maybe it won’t be so bad, Neteyam thinks.

“They are certainly happy that you’ve decided to court them.”

Oh.

Oh no.

Before Neteyam can stop this (and deep down, he knows it’s too late), Lo’ak’s eyes narrow, tail dropping to the ground with a thump, ears dropping.

“I haven’t even told them yet.”

At this, the entire family falls quiet. Spider and Kiri have stopped talking (even if only in hushed whispers), Neteyam stops chewing, hell—Tuk has stopped talking to their father, who is the last to notice the quiet.

Jake observes the situation.

“Dad,” Lo’ak catches his attention. “Did you tell them about the gift? Is it because I’m skipping on training? ‘Cause—“

“Woah, hey,” Jake holds his hand up to stop him. Neteyam can read his brother unraveling, his tail between his legs and ears flicking in panic. “Slow down.”

Lo’ak breathes.

“I didn’t tell anybody, okay?”

That’s when he turns around, facing Neteyam.

“Was it you? Did you say something?” Though Lo'ak is cautious to make accusations, the older brother can tell it’s at the tip of his tongue.

But their mother interrupts, thankfully.

“Lo’ak,” she says gently. “I did not realize they didn’t know. It’s my mistake.”

The youngest son slowly faces her. “What—what did they say?”

“That they are happy.“

“Nothing else?”

She shakes her head.

-

Lo’ak has been enamoured by your presence since he was little.

He remembers vividly how you showed up at his family’s tent with an offering of fruits you gathered yourself, as a thank you to the Olo’eyktan for saving your father from a brush with death during hunting. You were both just nine then, wide-eyed and less weathered by the world and its tragic circumstances.

And for years, he grew closer to you, though keeping a distance because that’s what he needed to accept any capacity you’ll grant, even if it was just close friendship.

But as the years passed, the both of you maturing alongside each other, attending the most important rites of passage and ceremonies (he can still hear how loud you cheered once he tamed his ikran), he has found himself almost unable to hold back how he feels. He realized that he didn’t have much time left to court you when all of a sudden you had different people—some of his friends, too—in the clan asking to court you after you’d completed Uniltaron.

He got to work immediately, skipping out on training and having his brother cover for him when he didn’t show to join the hunting party even when Jake insisted. He made himself unavailable just to dedicate his time into impressing you. He learned under one of the most skilled jewelry-makers in the clan to ensure it met the standards for a proper courting gift—he needed you to know he cared.

But as he stumbles out of his family’s kelku, eyes immediately scanning for yours, he thinks he must have fucked up somehow. You found out about his courting gift before he could even say a word to you about it. And you haven’t said anything to him since then, that means you don’t return his feelings…right?

If he were in your situation and found out you were preparing to court him, he would have ran to you right away, saying yes to your proposal. You’ve been quiet. Maybe you’re deciding how to turn him down gently. Eywa, must this really happen?

When you’re nowhere to find in your family’s kelku, your sister mentions that you haven’t been home since eclipse.

He finds you exactly where he expects you to be, just like every time you have needed space. You’re alone up on a branch, secluded by trees in the outskirts, but he can see your shadow just enough against the indigo sky.

He climbs.

As he reaches the thick branch, you’re already looking at him with a slight upturn of your lips.

A smile is good, right? At least you don’t hate him. You would have pushed him off by now if you did.

He perches himself close to the trunk, a few inches from you.

“Where have you been?” He asks when you don’t say anything upon his arrival.

You turn to him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Fair,” He hauls himself up to sit next to you, returning the smile. “Are you going to answer, though?”

“No.”

No? No?!

Lo’ak’s smug demeanor falters, ears flat against his skull, and you could probably tell judging by the way you hold back a snicker.

“Is it…” He struggles to find the words when you’re looking at him like that. “Is it true that my mother told you?”

“Told me what?”

He fights the urge to make a remark, because he can tell you’re playing with him. You clearly know what he’s alluding to, yet you refuse.

“You know what.” He adds flatly.

“I do not.”

Eywa.

He chose you, after all. He needs to own it. Regardless of how you’ll turn him down.

“That I plan to court you. If—if you allow me to.”

He is certain his heart stops beating when you take his hand, smoothing your palm over his before clasping them together. The warmth travels throughout his body.

“On one condition.”

“Anything, I’ll do anything—” He doesn’t even care if it makes him sound desperate. “I will.”

“You should not care if your courting gifts are perfect,” You mutter, losing a little bit of confidence and Lo’ak realizes your eyes have a sheen to them. “I think you are already perfect. I see you, Lo’ak.”

This is the moment he realizes that, as much as you’ve held his heart in your hands, he has held yours.

“I see you, yawne.”

[raythekiller]

um this is my first time requesting but 👉👈 could you do a fluff scenario with toby and his s/o who likes to draw and he happens to see a page of their sketchbook filled with doodles of him? tysm and i hope you have a nice day!

🗒 ❛ Artschool Wannabe ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Ticci Toby

#Notes: FINALLY something for my fellow artsy bitches

pronouns used: none, gn! reader

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

TOBY was sitting by the campfire, the darkness of the night completely surrounding the two of you, the trees so tall and grouped together barely any moonlight managed to make its way to the ground where you were sitting. The only sounds that could be heard were the every so often owl hooting, the fire crackling and your pen scratching against the paper of your sketchbook.

Toby, who was gathering some more kindling and throwing it in the fire below him, was blissfully unaware of how handsome he looked in this lighting. You, however, couldn't help but feel captivated by him, stealing glances every so often and trying to copy it on the paper accurately as to capture the moment.

"W-what are you-" He tics, letting out a whistle and jerking his neck to the side before continuing the sentence "What are you drawing t-there?". You look up at the boy now standing in front of you with a slightly startled gaze in your eyes, hugging the sketchbook against your chest out of embarrassement. "Oh! Uh... Nothing much." You reply in a low, slightly charged-as-guilty voice. "Can I- can I see it?" He asks enthusiastically, sitting beside you on the log. You know he loves your work, so saying 'no' to him is basically out of the question. You hand him the sketchbook, conflicted between averting your gaze out of awkwardness at being caught in the act or staring to capture his reaction, eventually settling on the latter.

If he wasn't wearing his mouth guard, you'd be able to see his mouth hanging slightly open in amazement, taking in every detail of the few different sketches you made of him throughout the day. His stomach fills with butterflies as he shifts his gaze towards you and you swear his eyes are practically shining with the happiness that has taken a hold of him at that moment.

"Y/N, I... These look a-amazing, th-" Another neck jerk, "Thank you so much, I don't even know w-what to say...". You can't help but giggle at his awe-filled expression. His reaction is as if you have just given him the best gift he's ever received in his life. In a way, that's not too far from the truth - you are the best thing that's ever happened to him, after all. He couldn't ask for anything else.

[doctor-starline]

FILE: SNC-ATM-DSP

Starline sat at his desk once more, head in his hands as the audio played through, when he first introduced the fox back to his brother.

“That conversation was so… fake. It wasn’t even long, but something is suspicious about how those two practically swapped speaking mannerisms. There was no doubt something was going on. Something most likely similar to their other conversation, later on…”

He switched it to the video of the two back in Tails’ room.

“Of course, unfortunately, a camera in the room would have had the opposite effect, weakening the security. Nobody ever thinks about it, but there's a gap behind most cameras. Wireless cameras just don’t deliver a good feed, so wired cameras are more common. The gap for the wires creates a weak point in the structure, not to mention that for both types of cameras, they can be broken off and used as a weapon.”

He looked like he was boring himself with his own monologue, or maybe his exhaustion was just that prevalent. It didn’t matter to the platypus. What mattered was finishing this log so he could go deal with Sonic. After that, back to Tails- after that, he’s got to check on the kiddos before they get suspicious that he’s been busy for so long. Not that Nine would. He’s got his own projects, but you really never know with Chaos Sonic. Perhaps that was why chaos was his title.

“Tails is currently going over the files I have on when I did this procedure on the ricky, and the assumptions I have for the changes in the process from that little guy to him. What he doesn’t know is I’m still deciding if I want to add a certain vulnerability while I’m working on that… not that he of all mobians needs it, he’s so confused, so broken right now that my hypnosis is already highly effective on him.”

He sighed, watching the two chat, clearly having already watched the tape once before.

“It’s unfortunate, really. I was going to let those two stay together longer. But Sonic just has to worm his way into his little brother’s mind with such a dark perception of me. I must admit it’s accurate, but I was doing so well with the little fox.”

He zoomed in on the hedgehog just laying there before passing out.

“Sonic. What to do with you. The whole goal was just to get you out of the way, to have you run off, and never look back. But this opportunity you presented me? I can't iterate it enough- I can’t just let it go, no, no, no. Now, what to do with you? The opportunities are endless. Save you until I’m back in robotnik’s good graces and present you like a present? Completely reconfigure your structure until you’re no longer recognizable? Or Eggman’s favorite plan, use you as nothing more than a battery.”

He broke into a smirk as he thought it over.

“No. It’s got to be something more my style. There’s flaws in plans like those, doing something just to use up a resource, you have no idea what to do with, it lacks enthusiasm, and lacking enthusiasm lacks care, lacks precaution. I must pay attention to every detail, stress on every miniscule step. No mistakes can be made, not anymore. Now, something more like me would be messing with his mind.”

He pulled his glove a little tighter, making sure it was secure.

“But to use my hypnotism? That isn’t an option, not right now. He’s got a strong willpower, that hedgehog. It wouldn’t be very effective. I need to pick his brain apart. See exactly what makes that little blueberry tick. It’s why most -including myself- get into psychology after all, until they realize that most methods of doing so are unorthodox. That won’t be an issue for me.”

“Maybe I’ll let him choose what he wants to do. Watch his friends and family die? Showcase to the “world” how he’s a failure in every aspect? Ring him through all of his worst fears? Take away what really makes him special? Or maybe just let him sit in a small room and think. All alone. I sould like a broken record but- No matter what we do, all I need is to grind his willpower to a paste, to drag him through the mud until his spirit…”

Starline gave a strange look to a monitor on the side, twisting up the volume a smidge. Orbot was quietly watching Robotnik from a corner as the doctor repaired Metal Sonic.

“Anyway… By bringing down Sonic’s willpower, he’ll be much more susceptible to any form of manipulation. That’s the important part. For now, my goal is still only to keep him out of the way, but if things progress well, I can entirely rewrite who he thinks he is. I could use him as a means to an end. A powerhouse who always gets the job done. An asset, yes. But he must be under control.”

Starline went to straighten his glasses but froze at what he heard on the monitor.

“What the-”

[I tried to tell him where he was, but they didn’t believe me.]

He cranked the volume to max at this point, eyes wide with fear.

“Bloody hell…”

What was he supposed to do?

“Metal… told them… and now he’s telling him- nononono-”

It took him a full moment of panic to remember he can control Orbot, setting up the small bot’s next message.

“Come on, Robotnik. You know I died- everyone did. Don’t listen to him… God damn it, how am I going to deal with Surge and Kitsunami- How long ago was this even???”

He ran his fingers through his hair as he wanted for the doctor’s response, hating how the doctor immediately pointed out something was wrong with Orbot, but Starline didn’t have the time nor the patience to deal with proper mannerisms than simply try and dissuade Eggman from believing the bot.

With each response, the platypus got more and more stressed, fingers impatient tapping against the desk while he was waiting to type his next response for Orbot to vocalize. Fist slamming against the desk as Metal continuously argued his case.

“I’m not a bloody duck…”

Starline mumbled to himself as he forced himself to type out the phrase, attempting to actually look at mannerisms and phrasing that he wouldn’t use. What he wasn’t expecting was for that to work. Eggman immediately believed him (and to his own appeasement, recognizing that he was a platypus rather than a duck). What left him uneasy was the fact that the robot was immediately powered off afterward.

“Ok. So Robotnik doesn’t believe I'm alive. That’s good. Or maybe he's lying. But I don’t have time to worry about that, because I have to worry if Surge or Kitsunami do actually believe him and are coming after me- sure I have my hypnotic glove, that works well, but it won’t do much if they catch me by surprise-”

He forced himself up, and started to pace, his muttering becoming nearly incoherent. Everything he’s been working on could be gone in an instant.

“I need to move… …the kiddos becoming suspicious… …Nine and Chaos…. …No they’d learn…”

The platypus wiped the saliva from his beak every few sentences, getting even more agitated each time he had to.

There was no clear solution, no clear way to fix this. He just had to hope and pray that all the cards fell into place. He had to rely on people reacting like he assumed they would, but they never did that. They never responded how he thought they would, and that was his downfall.

The platypus didn’t even notice that he was getting lightheaded until it was too late.

He leaned back against the wall, heavily breathing.

One hand gripped a counter nearby tightly, the other hand on his head.

What the hell was he going to do.

That was all he could worry about.

Everything would fall apart in front of his eyes, wouldn’t it?

Again.

Just like last time.

He kept saying he needed to be more careful.

One reckless decision months ago.

That’s what would end it all.

The platypus collapsed to the floor, a thud emanating from the room.

[micheya]

Tighnari x reader | Are you kidding me?

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A/n: I highly underestimated how long it would take for things in life to get the heck out of the way, in order for me to write. I'm sorry for the (very) late post. (edit: this was meant for a fluffvember...alas)

Abrupt ending, otherwise I'd never post this and originally written with platonic intentions in mind

warnings: might be out of place paragraphs somewhere, if not then epic 👍

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Tighnari log | How he cares for you

Tighnari loves to spend time with you passively or actively. The presence of you in the same vicinity as him while he goes through his studies is enough to keep the mean in him down when stressed.

Somehow Tighnari sometimes gets all the sassier while simultaneously making a quick switch to a soft smile clearly indicating favour for you.

You'll trip and stumble and he'll almost always have something to say, ranging from "Be careful", "Ok, you lummox?", to "How you've made it this far without dying a good three times beforehand, is beyond me."

With comments like these, there's always an underlying tint to his tone of voice, one that very clearly distinguishes malicious intent to one of teasing and playful banter.

Such a voice when insulting you could never really be an insult, and it could never truly be completely disguised as one when he'd give himself away sometimes with that knowing yet prideful smile. He's got you with no refute again, and even with a response prepared, your declarations and sound effects of 'offence' are enough to keep him entertained and well rejuvenated for the next few hours of patrol and documentation (though he does love his job)

___

Tighnari doesn't necessarily dote on you more than the others, neither does he nag any less or more when annoyed to his lover. He just naturally treats you in accordance to how he feels, says what he thinks should be said and does what he thinks is suitable within a situation.

Like there's no way he's going to leave you without a word if you'd decided to haphazardly jump on an activated mushroom pad and smack your head against a tree.

Neither will he let you hear the end of it if you sprain, or heavens forbid break something on the way down because of gravity.

"For goodness' sake, what on earth is wrong with you?" He'd start, or more accurately continue from whatever thoughts he had when he sees you well enough to receive a scolding, "What in Teyvat possessed you to do something so callous, huh?" with a gauze on your forehead and a bandage currently being wrapped around your leg by him, you were forced to listen to his entourage of piercing comments.

He'd stand up with a huff to get an ice pack, momentarily quiet before he'd crop up with a "And another thing!" before forcefully placing the ice pack on whichever wound had swelled up first.

"ah, ah, ah, cold!" you hissed out.

"Good."

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, wincing more at his tone than anything else at this point. From what you could see in your peripheral vision - from glancing at the floor to avoid eye-contact - his gaze was focused on your ankle now, carrying a sort of solemn expression (his ears only ever so slightly tilting down a few degrees lower - but you chalked it up to gravity playing it's part).

"You need to be more careful."

"I didn't mean to cause a hassle."

The both of you spoke simultaneously before Tighnari took it upon himself to speak first, "You're an adventurer at heart, I get it. And in this job anyway, you're bound to swing on some vines, find a rishboland tiger that looks particularly docile-"

"Test out some mushrooms you have no clue as to what the side effects are?"

"Yes," he rolls his eyes, "'and test out some mushrooms you have no clue as to what the side effects are.' Really, you somehow still have it in you to try and sass me?"

you guffaw a single breathless 'ha!'. Wasn't this the same man you would sometimes find unconscious on his lonesome in the middle of nowhere with dangers lurking all around, purely because he'd sometimes find it to be a hassle to go back to Ghandarva ville to have someone supervise him? In your mind you may be exaggerating the dangers a bit - he knew to be aware of his surroundings - but he was just as bad! (Actually hardly as bad, but you could be dramatic).

"You expect me to follow you around and not pick up some of your attitude?"

"Well in my defence, you're the one who stuck to me like a Kalpalata Lotus to a cliff side"

"You're! the one who said that I should follow you around as to not bother the other forest rangers."

"That's because you wouldn't sit still when you were still a patient here."

"Well in my defence" he rolled his eyes in the reuse of the phrase, "I was feeling much better. Like right now." before you could even press your hands onto the mattress to stand yourself up, "Oi! oi, oi, oi! hey, hey, stop!" your eyebrows shifted in horror.

"You're feeling much better...huh." he didn't even spare you a glance, getting up to put the icepack away.

"I get it geez." How could he push against your ankle like that? He could be so cruel.

"All I'm saying is think before you leap - which in this case applies quite literally." From the desk across the room, he turned with a hand on his hip to look at you, "There are many things within the forest that appear enticing even to me and they all carry their own set of risks. It's your job, my job, our job as forest rangers to assess and stop that risk from turning into an actual hazard. Ok?"

"Ok."

Making his way to a cupboard he picks out a crutch before waltzing back to you, "Jump on as many mushrooms as you want, as long as you're careful." with an emphasis on careful he paused, sitting beside you.

"I hope this time around you actually use the crutch instead of hopping around thinking it's faster."

[queenofthearchipelago]

The First Day of Doomsday

I'm holding my copy of How to Train Your Dragon, the book that started it all. So many wonderful moments, from Hiccup and Fishlegs opening their baskets and finding the most extraordinarily small dragon whom they would come to love as Toothless. To Hiccup, such a small boy, only 10 at this point, I believe, and standing against a dragon the size of a mountain.

I must admit, I do believe this is the book I remember the least about. It really is just about training your dragon, or more accurately, begging your dragon to please do as you asked.

But even after all these years, I remember so vividly the scene where Hiccup and Old Winkley have a conversation sitting on a log together. Old Winkley is smoking and grandfather and grandson look out over the village and at the waters towards the horizon.

Even rereading it, it's exactly as I remember it.

What stood out to me in this scene was that Hiccup is complaining about all that makes him different, and, in his eyes, makes him less than his peers and everyone else in the tribe. His dragon is the smallest, he's the smallest. He doesn't have Snotlout's strong personality. And I was expecting Old Wrinkly, simply because of his age, to tell Hiccup something along the lines of "You'll grow into it."

But no, that's not what he said. He tells his grandson that these differences, where they aren't useful, are inconsequential, and where they are useful, are hugely vital to not only his survival but also the entire tribe's. Hiccup's imagination, how clever he is, how willing he is to try new things. This is what Hiccup needs to rely on and also what the tribe has been desperately needing for years, though they do not know it.

Cressida once said in an interview that Hiccup would be quite a good leader if only everyone else would let him be one. And that begins in this scene right here, because he's exactly what they need.

And to a younger version of me, a teenager who also felt she had her own things that put her at a disadvantage, what a thing it was to be able to think that hey, maybe my differences, where they aren't useful, are inconsequential. And maybe, where they are useful, are vital. Something to lean on, something to cling to, something to value.

I feel the first movie also does a fantastic job of relaying this message. That the focus shouldn't be on changing your differences so you fit in, it should be on making them work. And if you don't fit in even after doing your best at that, maybe the problem isn't you. It's the tribe.

"The point is, I just don't see how I am ever going to become a Hero," said Hiccup gloomily. "I am the least Heroic boy in the whole Hooligan Tribe." "Oh, pshaw, this ridiculous Tribe," fumed Old Wrinkley. "Okay, so you are not what we call a born Hero. You're not big and tough and charismatic like Snotlout. But you're just going to have to work at it. You're going to have to learn how to be a Hero the Hard Way."

And the implication that the Hard Way is worth it. It's worth going through the trouble of finding your place in this world and figuring out what it is that you offer.

That's what I remember best on this first day of Doomsday.

[r0s3s26]

Hello I’d like to request it for Haikyuu pls. <3 You name/nickname for request or blurb

safsaf

<3 Your pronouns

She/her

<3 A romantic or platonic match up

Romantic please <3

<3 Any gender preference

Male

<3 Your ideal first date/hangout

Stay with me: going to a mariage counselor and pretending to be married to see if we have good chemistry and see how good they are at coming up with a lie. That or clay sculpting.

<3 5+ bullet points or sentences talking about your personality (positive and negative)

I’m an extrovert but my social battery runs out quick, I looove things that make my life easier (air fryer), I wear my heart on my sleeve so I’m a lover girl, I’m terrible at dealing with my emotions but great at reading other people’s, I adore my friends(a lil more than my family).

<3 Likes

the smell of old books, daydreaming, psycho analyzing people, the horoscope although I don’t believe it

<3 Dislikes

Not speaking up on social injustices, rude to restaurants workers, someone who’s not confident and keeps on deminishing themselves as a way of manipulating me much more

<3 The traits you look for in a partner or friend

Emotionally intelligent but still funny. Laid back cause I’m not and someone who can listen to me YAP

<3 Your hobbies and interests(sports, clubs, etc)

Interest in anything related to humanities. Cooking. Content making.

thank u so so much.

Your Matchup is…Sugawara Koushi!!

<3 Everyone forgets that Suga is a menace

<3 Like on the same level as Noya and Tanaka but more secretive and or chill about it

<3 So he would absolutely to the marriage counselor thing and be so into it

<3 But he is also a very chill person so if you want to chill activities he can do that

<3 Just very much a go with the the flow kinda guy

<3 Lover boy right here

<3 The team would be sick of how lovey dovey you both are *que Daichi and Asahi gagging noises*

<3 Because Suga is a setter, his entire job is to read other people and how they will react to certain plays. So he definitely uses that with you when dealing with you emotions and working through them with you

<3 Because you are also good at reading emotions I think you both would psychoanalyze people just for the fun of it

<3 Because you care so much about your friends, and the team becomes your friends, you also become the team mom (i’m putting you also as a 3rd year)

<3 Longest yap sessions ever

<3 You would look through your call log and see one that was 7 hours long just cause you both couldn’t get off the phone

<3 Please make him food, if you do he will be yours for life

Drabble:

You and Suga are sitting in your kitchen with a bunch of clay around you, wondering how you got into this mess, but that's a story for another day. But you are here now and you said you were gonna do it. “Hey honey, do you even know how to make clay sculptures?” Suga said in a tone that was mixed with nervousness and amusement “Of course I don’t, but we will learn today!” you replied excitedly. Now you are sitting across from each other sculpting the other's face, well attempting to. When you are both done with said sculptures you both turn them around and show them to each other, and it went a little something like this; “Ok 3, 2, 1” you both said as you flipped your busts. You both immediately start laughing y’alls asses off at the way the sculptures look “Suga that is not what I look like” you say with a laugh “My nose does NOT look like that”, “Um I would like to call it artistic liberty my sweets” he says very matter a-factly “And I don’t look like that ether my eyes are not that big” “Erm you literally have baby doll eyes, no not even, puppy eyes, so this is actually super accurate mister” you say in a fake nerd voice. You both stare at each other and laugh again at each other's interesting interpretations of the other, not thinking about the worries or cares of the outside world, only thinking of you both and the moments that you two share.

[biolizardboils]

Hey again.

I was saving this for when I'd wrapped some other stuff up, but it's taking too long. I'm just gonna say it while the words are fresh in my head.

The two-month break I've been on? I think I'm gonna stay on it. As in, stay logged off except on special occasions.

There's still things I want to finish here. I will answer what's left at @ask-the-all-consuming-void and bring it to a proper ending; The Secret Thing it was gonna segue into will go up, even if only as sketches and drafts; And there's another project I'm still helping with behind the scenes. But aside from those… I want to maintain my internet presence a lot less.

I've learned a lot about myself since I left: most importantly the hyper-empathy, compassion fatigue thing, and that being terminally online probably does more harm than help. There's trying to be a good, vigilant person, and then there's overwhelming oneself about things they can't control, with info that isn't always accurate. I've been doing the latter in different ways for years; late April/early May was a big wake-up call. Lesson learned: I've got to find balance, and I won't find it here.

The second-most important thing I learned is that… the reason I "joined" the internet in the first place? It's pretty much been fulfilled. Has been for a few years now, actually.

I made this tumblr in 2015, but I got my real start on deviantART and WordPress in 2011. Don't expect links; what people post in their preteens can stay between them and God lol. But I'll tell you what got me to make accounts: my confusion as a new Sonic fan. The way people talked about them, the way they talked to each other… it hurt to see.

I got it in my preteen head to set a better example. To not let my love for something become disdain for others of its kind. To explain instead of assume. And to assure anyone who'd listen that it's not shameful to like Sonic, that those who do deserve better, and that they could still have it better someday.

And now, 13 years later… we do. The hurtful stuff I saw back then is nearly gone now. When it does pop up, it's easier to counteract than ever. People realize how silly and petty and wrong it was, and can call it out accordingly. People can live a little truer to themselves, now that that shit isn't everywhere anymore.

I think that, specifically, is all I really wanted. Everything else—the reinvigoration of the characters and their world, the downpour in avenues once closed off by "cringe" and "not enough interest"—have been wonderful byproducts. I've been gassing up Sonic Movie 3 as the final step, but it's really more of a victory lap.

After realizing that, I just… don't feel the need to post so much here anymore. My self-worth and sense of morality shouldn't rely on what I do or don't type. I don't need to document every thought or choice I make and why.

The cause I've performed for since middle school no longer needs my time and energy, if it ever even did. I can just enjoy things in relative silence, and spend myself in other ways. Ways I've taken too long to get around.

Sonic Unleashed is what set me down this path. I watched it go from rejected at launch, to just divisive, to respected and beloved. I still wonder if, had it gotten a fairer chance, the current Sonic renaissance could've happened sooner.

But dwelling on that won't change anything. I'd rather dwell on how, this year, I got to scream Endless Possibility with hundreds of other people, loudly and proudly. No fear of who's watching, no need to self-sabotage. It meant the world to me.

There was a con in my area on June 23rd. I wasn't planning on doing anything that day until I heard about it. There was someone in attendance who helped me put a symbolic bow on this part of my life.

I think he did a wonderful job :)

I have one last thing to say before I go. That'll be its own post, so I can put it in the public Sonic tags.

Again, the stuff I've left hanging here will get finished eventually. But for now, this is goodbye.

Moots, followers: thank you so much. I will quite literally remember you all in therapy.

--BiolizardBoils

[thegeminisage]

as someone who wasn't around in 2014....can you tell me what it was like? (stucky) can you give me a taste of the gardens of babylon etc

what was it like...this is such a fun question i want you to know i gave serious thought to my answer and also discussed it at length with my 2014 friend last night and i know already it's gonna be so long. sorry that i answered your ask at fuck o clock in the morning i am scheduling it to go up later and also at the time you sent the ask in to make sure you see it

ok so like. i mean, you're on the fandom website, right, so i assume youve been in fandoms. idk if youve ever been in a really, REALLY big fandom, at the same time that said fandom was also producing content (even if the source material was not). think d*stiel post nov 5, or undert*le circa late 2015/early 2016, or z*lda after totk came out, or h*rry p*tter as the seventh book was being released. (i'm censoring to avoid a false positive of anybody's blacklist except in the case of the last one, which i am censoring out of <3 disrespect.) like there's something REALLY luxurious about being in ANY large and active fandom and it's mostly the power of crowdsourcing. st*r tr*k 2009's tarsus iv headcanons. the storm trooper lore re: the f*rce awakens before the second two movies came out. everyone just kind of agreeing that dean w*nchester was a teenage hooker. you know?

like, that's "just fanon," sure, but part of the beauty of it is that no one person makes up fanon, we all gather in the biggest writing group in the world and collectively go insane and bat ideas back and forth. there are a hundred THOUSAND fics about bucky barnes on ao3 and that's just the people who were writing, not even counting artists and gifmakers and meta-writers and people who just reblog stuff. i can't possibly begin to put an accurate number to how many people are in any given fandom at any given time, but imagine (on the low end, i'm sure) there are THOUSANDS, perhaps tens of thousands, of people going nuts about stevebucky at all times. tens of THOUSANDS people doing "yes and" with each other on the internet 24 hours a day seven days a week. it's just like being in any fandom, you log on to your dash and see what the mewchies posted while you were gone, but in a fandom so huge and so active you were getting bombarded with idea after idea after idea every single second, so if you don't like one you're spoiled for choice in what you engage with next. it didn't even matter that cap3 was two years away or that it sucked when it finally got here because we collectively wrote cap3 a million times over. like, genuinely, it was a mass creative exercise. it's the biggest writing group in the world. for better or worse, we were shaping our own version of that universe, without any input from or regard to the people who actually created the characters and movie, in a way that compelled most strongly to our own tastes and demographic.

what made this particular movie/fandom special though was a few things. firstly i still genuinely believe it was ahead of its time...marvel shit pre disney was allowed to be political in ways it is ABSOLUTELY not now. like, cap2 could say "the government is secretly full of nazis and they all need to burn" in 2014 two years before the 2016 election and 7 years before jan 6. like you just couldn't say that now. "war bad" is an oldie but goodie, but "our entire government is corrupt and needs to be torn into flaming pieces and cast into the potomac" is um. pretty radical. so is, by the way, "men as victims" and "men having emotions" etcetc. like, not in fandom, fandom all but invented that shit, but as far as dumb superhero movies go. i can't tell you the number of metas i read AND WROTE discussing steve rogers and masculinity and how all that was portrayed, intentionally or not, in that fucking film. i had entire separate universes built up in my head for steve who was born a cis girl and steve who decided later in life that "nonbinary" or "trans woman" was a better fit and then steve who was born as a cis boy and remained a man his whole life but felt weird and different ways about being queer which clashed with the weird and different ways BARNES felt about being queer. i'm not saying the film (or the fandom! good lord) was perfect, it was a product of its time, but it was also WAY ahead of its time too. it was weird to expect the next film to come out and actually, like, be good. it wasnt, but we fully believed it would be and that wasn't delusional behavior because the last one had been. i would never have that kind of faith in a marvel project now because they've been bought by disney.

oh yeah and that's the other thing too like. speaking of queer people. gay marriage wasn't legal in the US on a federal level until 2015, and you couldn't just flip on your TV and see them whenever you wanted. ten years doesn't seem like that long ago in the grand scheme of things but like, we lived on glee and cw/mtv queerbait (disclaimer that i personally only participated in cw queerbait) and that was it. we had crumbs. and like when people write gay characters theyre Just Gay, but if you decide to be crazy stupid in a slash fandom you can decide these layered characters are gay and that's even better rep than um whatever was going on in other pieces of media. these guys are both so lonely and out of step with time and lack other people with "shared life experiences" (girl what the hell was that) and their connection w each other keeps them afloat in a world that doesn't want them so like of COURSE it seems like it's supposed to be romantic. and like, i could and did make myself and my tumblr buds crrrazy (and got made crazy by them) thinking about:

how steve's size when small and again when big interacted w his gender identity and his sexuality and how that sexuality manifested. barnes's identity As A Man hinging on his ability to go to war for his country bc Thats What Men Did but now he's no longer fit because theres worms in his brain. loss of bodily autonomy which usually happens to women and natasha being later in that journey than steve and bucky are and so close to being at peace with it but not there yet. stigmatization of seeking treatment for mental health issues lessened by the presence of sam who could have been a Macho Tough Guy but actually gives off strong Talk About Our Feelings And Be Soft vibes. don't even get me started on the relationship (predatory) between steve and rumlow and how it parallels the one between barnes and pierce (and if any of you motherfuckers BREATHE a word of that h*dra tr*sh p*rty shit in my direction i will END you) and the stigma that comes from being preyed on when vulnerable As Men. steve's depression and ptsd and him getting triggered by, yes, the fucking ALS ice bucket challenge. the collective belief that he was conscious when he was frozen even though nobody said that so that he and barnes could have that in common too. the headcanon about barnes having roma heritage - shoutout to not easily conquered my beloved, and the 14k smut coda i wrote for it✌ speaking of smut, i would be remiss also not to mention there was a STRONG element of collective lust involved. i'm immune to 99% of it bc im ace but the winter soldier was uh. VERY graceful. you know? i didn't write 14k of porn because i was uncompelled. we were on one. we went fucking crazy. fandom in general but especially big fandoms have a kind of nonstop endless well of creative energy born from obsession that is the absolute envy of people like my mortal enemy grrm. we NEVER quit.

also, HISTORY (and other vaguely educational subjects). we were all so desperate to know how steve and bucky would have lived in the years we couldn't see them it sparked a sitewide interest in 1940s american history. there was a thing about bananas tasting different now because of a plague. m&ms being invented as wartime candy. stuff about how shoebox apartments looked and how rations worked. 1940s recipes and radio shows. the 1940s queer movement and how it interacted with ballroom dancing and private drag get-togethers. how amputations work and how prosthetic limbs work in real life so we could extrapolate it to fantasy. how to hand-draw that fucking arm in photoshop. why soldiers are trained to say their serial numbers when captured. what ww2 was like. what dog tags are for. what did they get in the ration packs. what brand of cigarettes did they smoke. what brand (and i am being so serious, i STILL own a tube) of LIPSTICK did peggy carter use. caloric intake of someone with a 4x speed metabolism and how much famine peanut butter he'd need to eat daily to keep from starving to death. oppression of irish immigrants and their children/grandchildren back in the 1940s. the difference between conservatives and fascists, back when there was a difference. what activities generally took place on these mysterious but ever-present new york city docks. just exactly HOW many terrible movies and tv shows has sebastian stan been in ranked by his resemblance to james buchanan barnes in each one. (i personally went through his entire imdb list at the time and then made a venn diagram.) electroswing! teachers and professors would have killed for their classes to have the kind of enthusiasm a bunch of mentally ill teenagers and 20-somethings on tunglr dot edu were showing about this one very specific set of subjects. this film also sparked my love of fight scenes. if you've read this fic or this fic and liked the Big Fight Scenes in them, you can thank cap2 for leading me down that path.

and then yes there was also discourse. my personal most hated thing was the above mentioned h*dra tr*sh p*rty (DO NOT GOOGLE THAT, i will just tell you it's nazi rape porn🤢 and i hope everyone involved is having a bad day today) and also the fact that SOME FUCKING PEOPLE can't understand "don't be shitheads about a fanfic where the author can see you doing it." but then ofc people were also sexist about nat and racist about sam and minimalizing those guys (and every other character besides tony really but sometimes him too) for the two white male leads was a whole thing. and on the funnier side of things you had (justifiably, i suppose) bitter st*ny fans who HATED what those two got in avengers and got real mad when stucky started outpacing them on ao3. and people complaining about the characters being too uwu soft. and then other people arguing whether or not barnes counted as disabled when he was missing a Whole arm. and THEN discourse about was it ethical to remove the arm and build him a new one ESPECIALLY without his consent (if people don't know they're being ableist in their fanfics hypothetically is it still ok to kill them with hammers?) and why was tony doing it if that guy killed his parents and is it ok that we keep making tony not that mad about his dead parents is it not enough that barnes stole his limelight as the guy who gets shipped with steve but what if all three of them fucked but can you really fuck the guy who offed your folks but ACTUALLY isn't it cringe to like tony anyway since RDJ and gwenyth paltrow are bad people and who says chris evans are sebastian stan are such good people etcetcetc. and let us not even get started on the plausibility of the avengers tower fanon after age of ultron came out and it turns out nobody became friends and they all still hated and mistrusted each other. and whether or not the avengers could be considered found family if the other characters were constantly getting shafted into being barnes's little support animals. and then ofc every once in awhile one of the actors of people involved creatively would say something ranging from mildly controversial to absolutely horrible on the internet and we'd all fight about THAT for awhile like a dog with a bone. i mean. typical infighting of any fandom tbh.

but i was very happy. it was all the most enormous thought experiment and creative endeavor (and semi-educational adventure??) that we all participated in daily for like two-ish years without stopping ever. i loved doing it. AND, when you click with a piece of media like that, you also click with other people who clicked with that same piece of media, so in addition to the sheer level of dopamine going into my brain at all times i also formed decade-long friendships that will certainly last the entirety of my lifetime, and when we're in our 90s in nursing homes i will be able to say, "we are friends because i wrote 14k of smut for your fanfic" or "we are friends because i couldn't get enough of your gifsets" or whatever because you know, we quite literally went to stucky together.

[incandescentflower]

cherry magic th prompt:

15 soothing kisses

10 hiding their face in the other's neck

14 putting an arm around the other's waist

14 grabbing hand to show them something

thanks for the prompts, zee! these are all such good ones! and when I see soothing, I can't help but want to write Achi taking care of Karan.

this went a little long so I could fit all these lovely prompts in. :)

I hope you like it!

This is part of a Cherry Magic Thailand fic ask game I'm playing while the show airs. Send me a prompt from one of the lists and I'll write you a ficlet! Details are in this post.

I have a few more prompts I'm still working on. Thank you to everyone who sent some along!

This is also on AO3 here. The other prompt ficlets in this series are here. (yes, I named the series "with you, everything is magic" just like new's song. yes, this is definitely a sign of my current mental state)

a special something

Karan knew so much about Achi. He seemed to log every detail Achi ever intentionally or accidentally shared about himself and he used them to constantly show how much he thought and cared about Achi. He was still a little dumbfounded that Karan knew him so well and still wanted to be close to him, but Achi had even gotten used to the little ways Karan took care of him.

In the beginning, Achi didn’t know Karan to the same extent. If someone had made Achi answer quickly what Karan liked - the most accurate thing Achi could answer was, well, him. And now, he could not simply just listen to Karan’s thoughts to learn more about him. He had to make the effort.

So he had made it his assignment to spend more time learning about Karan in the same ways as he had Achi. It wasn't too difficult, but it did require not letting Karan distract Achi with the attention he gave him. Once he put his mind to it, he discovered a few things he hadn't noticed before. For example, Karan enjoyed a warm cup of tea after every staff meeting no matter the season. Achi found out that the tie Karan had let him wear was one of his lucky ties that he would wear whenever he had a big client presentation. For example, Karan enjoyed a warm cup of tea after every staff meeting no matter the season. He found out that the tie he had let Achi wear was one of his lucky ties that he would wear whenever he had a big client presentation.

Achi had already known that Karan liked vanilla, in all ways. In the flavor, in the smell. Vanilla cakes, vanilla frosting. Achi kind of loved it because for someone so interesting, Karan loved something most people would see as ordinary. But when asking more about it, Achi discovered that Karan's appreciation for vanilla wasn’t ordinary. Karan seemed to know everything anyone could know about vanilla and could tell you all about how unique the variations in flavor could be if you paid attention.

Achi felt satisfied not only learning these things about Karan, but also by the fact that each thing he discovered felt right. He would think that's so Karan, because Achi had started to really know him too.

Not everything he discovered about Karan was a fun little fact. Sometimes it was something Achi never knew that was really important. He was surprised to discover the most stressful day of the week for Karan was usually Thursday because twice a month on that day he had a call with their most demanding customer. No matter how calm Karan looked on the outside, if it didn't go well, he would spend the last hour of that day writing plans for the next meeting in his notebook.

So on a Thursday when Achi knew it was a call day with that client, he took Karan out for a meal. Karan didn’t seem particularly stressed at first, but Achi had learned to look for the signs. Karan was a little quieter, a little more lost in his own head. His jaw looked tense and he clenched his hand into a fist, until he noticed and forced himself to relax momentarily, until it happened again.

It confirmed for Achi this was the day to put his plan into action. He suggested they go relax at Karan's condo after dinner. Karan looked tired, but he agreed easily. When they entered Karan’s apartment, he immediately went into host mode, asking Achi if he wanted a drink. Achi had been there countless times before so it was silly that Karan still treated him like a guest.

Instead of allowing him to wait on Achi, he held his hand out to Karan and said, “I’ve got something to show you.”

Karan seemed confused, but he took Achi’s hand and followed him over to the couch. 

“I know you had your tough client call today so I made you something for days like this," he said as they both sat down.

“How did you know I had a tough client today?” Karan asked.

“Because I pay attention to you,” Achi said and grabbed Karan’s hand. He took Karan's palm and spread it out, relaxing it. “And you had this fist clenched all dinner.”

“Oh,” he said, relaxing his hand. “I’m fine, really.” He gave Achi a half smile. 

Achi narrowed his eyes at Karan. He was so impossible sometimes. “Well, that’s too bad because what I have here is for someone who maybe isn't actually fine.”

“What? What is it?” Karan asked, perking up. 

Achi had his hand in his backpack, as if he was going to pull something out. He made a show of thinking really hard about it. “I don’t know. Is there someone here who could use a pick-me-up?”

“Okay, yes, fine, Achi. I would like a pick-me-up, very much so.”

“Was that so hard?” he asked.

“Incredibly,” Karan said, but he sounded very fond.

Achi pulled a small rectangular basket out of his bag and put it on the table. He tilted his head toward it, an invitation for Karan to take a look. Karan beamed and reached for it. Achi couldn’t help but feel so very pleased with his reaction. 

Karan dug into the basket, picking up each item and looking it over carefully. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“You do this kind of thing for me all the time.”

“You really didn’t have to do this, Achi.” 

“Yes, I did, Karan. I can take care of you, too.”

He grasped Achi’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”

“But that’s not everything,” Achi said.

“Oh?”

“Each item comes with a special something. Which do you want first?”

Karan tilted his head. “Can I know what they are?”

Achi shook his head. “Nope, they’re surprises. Pick one tonight. Then you can save the others for later.”

“Okay,” he said, “but you know I’m greedy.”

“Just pick.”

Karan investigated the items again and finally picked out a small bottle of essential oil. He made a thoughtful face as if he might return it, but then held it out to Achi. “This one.”

Achi took the bottle. “This is a good one,” he said. “Very good choice.”

“Thank you,” Karan said, looking pleased.

“Come here,” Achi directed, beckoning him forward. 

Karan scooted himself closer. Achi opened the bottle and dabbed a little on each of his thumbs and pressed them to Karan’s temple. He massaged each side of his head lightly. Karan’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch, his breath slowing.

Achi moved his thumbs down the side of Karan's face, carefully massaging each point of contact. The oil had the lightest scent of vanilla. Although it was Karan’s favorite, Achi knew he did not like it if it was too strong, so he had spent some time trying to find the one that seemed pleasant, but not too powerful.

Karan inhaled, his shoulders relaxing. “That’s nice,” he said. 

Achi moved his hands slowly down to Karan’s neck, sliding his hands around the back, where he knew Karan kept so much tension. Karan melted into it, his head lolling as Achi gently rubbed the back of Karan’s neck with his fingers. 

Karan groaned softly, Achi giving a little more attention to that spot in response. After a few minutes of this, Karan exhaled deeply and opened his eyes. He cradled Achi’s face in return. “I’m so lucky,” he said, a dreamy look on his face.

Achi could so easily be distracted by this. That’s what Karan did, pulled Achi into him, made him feel so warm and loved and special. But this wasn’t supposed to be about Achi.

“Who said I was done?” he said, giving Karan a playful frown. 

“Oh? Something more?”

“If something hurts you, Karan, I want to be the one to make you feel better. Can you let me do that for you?”

“Okay,” Karan agreed, still watching Achi with intense curiosity.

Achi pulled Karan’s face toward him into a gentle kiss. It was a kiss with intention, one to show Karan how much Achi wanted to be someone who he could count on, who he could lean on, who could be his partner in all ways. 

Achi moved his lips slowly, but attentively, interspersing brief, light kisses with longer, deeper kisses. When Achi finally pulled back, Karan looked completely taken over with an absolutely goofy grin on his face.

“Now I’m done,” Achi said, satisfied.

“Oh no, not yet,” Karan said, putting his arm around Achi’s waist and pulling him back toward him. Karan returned Achi's kisses in equal measure while holding him tight.

They continued to kiss like this, softly, gently, just holding each other, until they were exhausted and breathless. When they broke off from one another, Karan shifted to bury his face in Achi’s neck, tightening his grip yet again. 

“Thank you for making this a much better day,” he said, muffled into Achi’s shoulder.

“Anytime,” he said, stroking Karan’s hair.

“Do I really have to wait for another bad day to find out what the other special things are that come with my gifts?” he asked, raising his head and giving Achi his best pleading eyes.

“Yes, you do,” Achi said, staying firm.

“I feel like I might have a streak of bad days ahead of me.” 

Achi knew Karan was teasing, but Achi would love nothing more than to have Karan tell him if he was having a difficult time. And even if Karan used this playfully to get Achi's attention, Achi could also use it as an excuse to ask him about the toughest parts of his day.

No matter what, Achi felt like this was a good step forward.

“If you do," Achi said. "I’ll be here to take care of you.”

[opinated-user]

I'm very tempted, now that someone has mentioned the idea of parodying Lily, to do a parody of TSR wherein everything Aliana does is mocked and retold in a more accurate way. Nothing sexual or gross, but we shove in an OC who looks back at the audience and goes, "Kylo Ren never expressed any sexual desires in the original trilogy. Now he wants Rey and Aliana to be his concubines. Gee, who was it that said authors only put violence against women in fiction if they get off to it? Billy Smorchard? Lillian Orchestra? Something like that." Just TSR, but Aliana is stuck with a character who can see beyond the fourth wall who will not stop mocking the bad writing. He asks Rey how she fell in love with Aliana and she says, "Oh, we talked." "That's it?!" "We had things in common." "I have things in common with you, her, Luke Skywalker, BB8 and my cat, that doesn't mean I'm in love with them!" The entire story ends up with a running gag where he refers to Aliana's mom as "The Noble Black Slaver" and she wants to murder him but his two superpowers are being aware of things beyond the fourth wall and being immune to Force abilities so she's just forced to deal with his existing without ever being able to choke, maim, murder, electrocute, etc. him, which are her only means of problem-solving. I really want to do a lengthy parody thing where we start out following the plot of TSR but eventually this dude's continual interference in Aliana's bullshit totally derails her attempts to take over the galaxy.

Specifically I want to do this parody fic with comments set to logged-in users only and see what she ends up doing when she realizes she can't threaten my life without getting banned from AO3. She can't bully me off of social media, because I don't have that. Her viewers can't scream at me without death threats and suicide bait getting them banned off of AO3 for TOS violations.

Imagine how mad she would be. Imagine the glorious indignation, the swearing, the inevitable trying to frame me as [buzzwords here] and not being able to control someone enough to make them stop because she has no power. And the best part is, I could make it so, so queer and make it majority non-white and make the fourth-wall breaking OC Jewish just to piss her off. "But Judaism doesn't exist in Star Wars!" someone in the comments will say, to which I can simply reply, "Black people selling white kids doesn't exist in Star Wars and every black character having a connection to slavery didn't exist in Star Wars but y'all were fine with those additions. You'll survive this one."

I have a spare AO3 account. I could do this. Someone either needs to stop me or give me a title because that's always the hardest part to come up with. I'm thinking I want to retain TSR as initials...

you should, anon, why not? LO has officially left alaina free for the taken. if someone can grab her and do something actually interesting with her then they should.

[blueesnow]

Mikaze Ai Voicelines Translation from Event Log

-All of this voicelines are from the Event Log (with both Mini Event and Talk section) on each of the Idol page. If you want to collect all of the other talk voicelines, you have to touch the background of the room (or rather anything other than the boys themselves) because touching them will only just trigger their skinship voicelines.

-If you ever see a blank one on the list, it's probably because I still haven't triggered and collected them or I just don't have their cards. I hope you can wait for the update until I finally collect them, or if any of you already have them it would be helpful if you could send me the SS of the missing voiceline so I could fill in the list 🙏

-Also the translations might not be fully accurate since I'm not that fluent on jp/en, so if i ever made a mistake do correct me🙏

Mini Event:

Tokiya's Birthday Celebration (Ai) Year 1: Ai: Happy Birthday, Tokiya. Although you always look serious but sometimes you also have a childish side as well, I think it's good though. Tokiya: Is that so…? But if Mikaze-san said so, then I'm sure it's a compliment, isn't it. Thank you very much. Reiji's Birthday Celebration (Ai) Year 1: Ai: Since it's your birthday, why don't you show a bit of your maturity? Anyway, congratulations Reiji. Reiji: Ai-Ai, thank you~! Don't get burned while looking at the grown-up Rei-chan, okay☆ Ah, don't ignore me!

Talk:

Talk Morning Topic: If you still haven't woke up yet, shall I be the one who manage your private time? Fufu, I'm just kidding. Talk Afternoon Topic: During the interview, they asked me on how do you approach someone that you like. Since they might be asking lots of question I went ahead and answered it but, what about you? Talk Evening Topic: Shall I go and make you a herbal tea? It smells really good and it'll help you to relax too. Talk Night Topic: Maybe I should try to practice singing a lullaby too. It'd be helpful to expand my singing range and it'd also be perfect to do it on the times when you can't fall asleep. Talk Summer Topic: I want to create a summer like memories with you…will you go with me? Of course you can leave all the planning to me.

Talk 1: I don't mind being relied on. If there's anything that you'd like to know, you can go ahead and ask me. Talk 2: Can you tell me your definition of what you think "cool?" looks like? Why you ask, I'm just a bit interested in it, that's all. Talk 3: I'm so happy to hear that everyone's listening to my song. You could say I'm also looking forward to it too. Talk 4: I think it's better to have a solid set schedule. If you move on time, there would be less waste and it'll be much more efficient. Talk 5: I guess you could say that the memories that I've accumulated during both of my private and work time are like my treasures. I cherish each and every one of them deep in my heart. Talk 6: There are still so many things that I don't know about everyone from QUARTET NIGHT. They're always full of surprises so you'll never get bored of them. Talk 7: The good thing about QUARTET NIGHT is the fact that we don't interfere with each other too much. It's so that we won't be too dependent on each other. Talk 8: To me, singing is just the same thing as being alive. It's something that's natural and essential. Talk 9: No matter what kind of performance it is, I'll always do it perfectly. Because I think that's how I show my sincerity to the people who come and watch me. Talk 10: After the recording of the show, I was given a commemorative group photo of the cast members. Seeing them somehow made me reliving those memories again, so I guess it wasn't that bad at all.

Talk 11: There was happened to be a mechanical trouble at work, but I'm relieved that I managed to help out. It's my specialty after all. Talk 12: I sometimes find a rare flower too even in the city centre. Seeing them bloom so strongly made me want to take a picture of it. Talk 13: I often get praised for being calm and reliable. I guess you could say that's one of my good points. Talk 14: While I was researching something, I happened to come across a passionate-filled review about my song. As I thought seeing that really made me happy. Talk 15: During the previous photoshoot, there was a mistake in regarding the size of Ranmaru's costume. Both the sleeves and hem of it were too short it made such an interesting sight. Talk 16: I usually spend my day off at home. Sometimes I try to make plans for a mountain climbing and it's quite fun. Talk 17: Looks like a new content has been added to the online game. I can't wait to play it soon. Talk 18: I was surprised when I saw Reiji quieter than usual on the site. It looks like he's in the middle of the game where you can't speak anything but in English. Talk 19: Observing people means that I could utilize what I have noticed from them and apply it to myself. That's why it's interesting. Talk 20: If only there could be a machine that can understand people's feelings…I'm sure people can't help but had thoughts of that before. Besides it would be much more efficient if there were.

Talk 21: Even during break time, I never forget to go collecting and analyzing data. There might be a chance when I can use it on my next job after all. Talk 22: Live performance is the place where I realize just how much I want to be liked by everyone. That's why I don't want to make even the slightest mistake. Talk 23: According to the data that I have, there's a high possibility that I'll be able to meet you again tomorrow. Is it okay for me to have expectation? Talk 24: A new week is about to begin. Let's make sure to plan things out properly and carefully. You can do it, can't you? I believe in you. Talk 25: I guess the bags that I own are mostly backpacks. They're easy to carry heavy things around and, more than anything, they're convenient because they keep both of my hands free. Talk 26: There's something that I want to confirm with you… Hm? Normally you'd always respond right away… How unusual. (when you ignore him) Talk 27: Hmm, now I'm more than curious to try and check just how far along you'd notice. Let's poke her around a little bit more. (when you ignore him) Talk 28: Hm, are you already done with your work now? Since you're so concentrated on it… No, it's not like I'm sulking or anything. (after you're done ignoring him) Talk 29: …I guess you finally noticed after how many long I've been staring at you huh. Looks like I manage to collect an interesting data. (after you're done ignoring him)

About Otoya: Otoya's not afraid of anything at all huh. I often saw him approaching his co-stars and talking to them. About Masato: Masato's sewing skills are amazing. It feels as if he can make everything. Maybe I should try to make something with my own hands too. About Natsuki: I always tell Natsuki each time I found something that he might likes. Like a cute goods or something. About Tokiya: Having a discussion with Tokiya is interesting. Since he's so knowledgeable, we can talk about lot of things from many different angles. About Ren: Ren also plays an online game, and I think our tastes are pretty similar. Though we both have a different playstyle. About Syo: When I go shopping with Syo, he tends to recommend me things that I'd never choose myself. But after that they ended up suits me well. About Cecil: Although Cecil is usually calm, he often panics in front of a fish. He's honest even when it comes to things he's not good at. About Reiji: Whenever there is a trouble happening, Reiji always rephrases it around in an optimistic way. In a way that part of him always help us out. About Ranmaru: He always try to repay anything that he borrowed, no matter how small it is. Ranmaru's sense of duty is one of his good points. About Camus: Out of all the members of the group, Camus is probably the one that I get along well with. He's a very well-informed person and that's why he's interesting.

Skinship 1: It's not that I hate it but… did you forgot that I'm supposed to be your Senpai? (touching head) Skinship 2: Shall I pat your head as well? You don't mind if I do it two times more than you did, right? (touching head) Skinship 3: Wait… what's wrong all of a sudden? Skinship 4: What kind of psychology is it behind poking my cheek? Skinship 5: That's quite a strange hobby you have. Are you the type who's more interested in upper arms? (touching arms) Skinship 6: I'm your Senpai after all, so you can always rely on me. Skinship 7: Hey… I'd be in a trouble if you did something irregular out of sudden. Skinship 8: Even if you didn't do that, I'd still listen to your story. Skinship 9: My opinions? Not in particular. Skinship 10: Next time it's your turn to get tickled. I'd like to collect a data for that. Skinship 11: Well then, I'm going to have to pay that back more or less the same amount of times than what you did to me.

Approach 1: As much as I'm having fun watching you, it seems like the data that I have is not enough. You'll surely help me out, won't you? Approach 2: I wonder why did you become so red like that just because I got closer to you, hm? I hope you can tell me the reason of it. Intimacy lvl-up 1: I don't mind spending time with you. It also feels like I gained new emotions from that too. Intimacy lvl-up 2: Huh, I didn't know you could make that kind of face too. Of course that only happens when you're with me, right? Intimacy Limit Release: I received your feelings. (Your) Birthday Celebration 1: Ai: You seem to be in a pretty good mood today. Somehow your face seems like you're waiting for me to say something to you. Ai: …Just kdding, there's no way I would forget about it. Happy birthday. I've been meaning to tell you that. Ai: I want to spend time with you for as long as I can for today. This is also one of your Senpai's order, I won't ever let you say no, okay?

This one is not listed, but here's a voiceline if you're trying to leave him:

Are you going somewhere now? I just need a few more minutes of your time. Can't I?

Bonus Voicelines from URs/SRs:

"Letter of Journey" Mikaze Ai Talk 1: There are so many things that I want to tell and show you. I want to walk through the same time as you. "Letter of Journey" Mikaze Ai Talk 2: The music that you gave always taught me of something that's important and dear to me. I'll never forget to always give out my thanks to you. "Be Elegant!" Mikaze Ai Talk 1: I'm happy to hear you talk about the thoughts that you put into that song. I'm also the first one who heard about it too, right. "Be Stylish!" Mikaze Ai Talk 1: Both of your reactions and mine were a little different than what I had expected. But somehow it left such a pleasant feeling in my heart. "Lavender king" Mikaze Ai Talk 1: Fighting for the sake of peace, huh. I wonder if Ai also had someone important that he wanted to protect as well. Just like how you are to me, for example.

[real-live-human]

🌻

(from the ask game)

ok so predictably i love the flavour text in lancer - you've got your contextless ominous quotes, your snippets from what appear to be in-universe literature, your coroporate euphemisms for something truly horrifying - but recently i've been really thinking about the white witch. because all its flavour text comes from what is evidently some kind of development log or some such, but that contains a really fun range. you've got your incredibly worrying yet kind of vague descriptions of what the thing actually does:

“To say we can pull this needle from ‘thin air’ is the best-fit phrase, but it’s not accurate. Not entirely. There’s no such thing as thin air, not in the way one means it when they use that phrase. ‘Agreeable atomic space’ – that’s what ‘thin air’ really is. A place where one could – if one could – coalesce utility from useless particulate mass with a thought. With a snap of our finger. Here, watch this –” (ferrofluid lance)

“We call it ‘demand-compliance tethering’. Though, that makes it sound as if they have a choice to resist.” (pinning spire)

“Manipulating the world around the platform doesn’t end at rearranging the natural/built environment. This was the line that many on the team were afraid to cross, the question we had all asked ourselves once we bracketed the platform: what happens when we apply it to a person? What does existence mean when it can be ended with a thought?” (camus' razor)

but then you look at a couple of the other mech systems and it basically just becomes the exotic materials department getting increasingly frustrated by the company's attempts to make their horrifying death machine more marketable:

“The first test nearly ended the program. Exotic Materials is a … liberal department within the Constellation, but even our executives were hesitant to approve a second run. The data generated by WW_01 was invaluable, and we were sure we could get it right with a second test – all we needed was the sigma on its rewrite cone! Suits just get leery when systems fail. They forget that progress takes blood – sometimes literally – as payment for a breakthrough.” (ferroreactive shell)

“Soon enough we realized that shaping weapons from molecules and particles wasn’t enough to justify the conical mag as a system worth platforming. We needed to find a way to make it … more. More visual, tactile, concrete, imposing, thrilling – we needed to sell the next step in realspace control! So with some tuning and, regrettably, input from Visual, we figured out how to define the White Witch: as the most terrifying, alien thing you’ve ever fucking seen.” (sympathetic shield)

“Again and again the meatheads over at Visual asked us to ‘help them sell’ the platform. What else could we do? We handed them a power that gods of death and war had coveted since Cain cracked a rock over Abel’s head, and they told us, ‘if we can’t see it, we can’t sell it.’ So we mucked around and made another diadematic little wonder for them, the F-Barrier. It’s brilliant. Of course it is. We’re Exotic Materials, brilliance is easy.” (ferrospike barrier)

and then the icing on the cake comes from the retort loop description - at a glance it seems like someone waxing poetic about what horrors man hath wrought or whatever, but if you actually stop and read it:

“Ultimately, I have to return to the core of what we made, the code we cracked when we finally figured out NO/EM. From a simple prompt, we created a terrible engine. I am more proud of what we did than anything I’ve ever worked on before, but it should never see the light of day. Working with Visual convinced me of this: it’s their job to translate our work to sales, and they could not. If the translator cannot understand the text … then who are they to rewrite it? Who is the reader to attempt to access it? I conclude my summary with this: mothball the platform. There are less terrible paths we can walk.”

this is someone becoming gradually disillusioned with their crowning achievement as an artist, because in making it palatable to the wider market they keep having to water it down, and so rather than face that indignity to their craft they have put it to rest. and also the project in question is a horrifying murder machine.