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cyclone-rachel · 1 year

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Tomorrowverse Karadox playlist analysis, part 2

Blame it On My Heart (Karmin):

Trust I wanted to tell you

No, I never meant for you to be hurt

Tongue-tied-up my escape plan

Now I got a million bridges to burn

Here comes the ache, too much to take

You got to let it go (let it go)

Give me a break, it's my mistake

Darling, I should've known

I couldn't help it, sorry I'm selfish

But blame it on my heart

Blame it on the beating

No alibi, I had to try, baby

Blame it on my heart

Blame it on the beating

All the things I said

Cross them out in red, honey

Blame it on my heart

Blame it on the feeling

Don't make it worse

I can't reverse it so

Blame it on my heart

Blame it on my beating heart

One of my favorite songs from the past few years, and I think it’s for sure the middle part of the movie where Brainy is blamed for what he didn’t do, and it definitely reminds me of when he confesses to Kara that his plan wasn’t logical but he still wanted to prove that he wasn’t his family. It doesn’t really fit the serious tone of that scene, but it’s a bop and I still like listening to it.

Checkmate- Conan Gray

'Cause I've gotten tired of the games that you play

When you tell me you love me then you throw me away

So cry me a river till you drown in the lake

'Cause you may think you're winning but checkmate

Yeah you may think you're winning but checkmate

I think I discovered this one on a playlist for another rivals-to-lovers pairing, and again the lyrics aren’t quite accurate, but the vibe fits, and the chess motif fits for Brainy.

Will They or Won’t They?- Misbehavin’ Maidens

In these stories we want to know

Will they or won’t they?

But with us, I know the answer: We won’t

Another song where not all the lyrics fit, and because it references several other couples, I don’t get all the references, but the vibes are there, and I just like finding enemies/rivals to lovers songs, I think they’re fun.

Mechanical Planet- VERIDIA

The truth is

I'll work day and night

To keep the gears grinding in your mind

To keep you from knowing you are worth more than gold

Not some assembly-line, rusted shell of a person that I try to remote-control

I never want you to believe

That when you're down on your knees

That someone is actually listening

If you are undistracted for even a moment

I'll lose my hold

And you would notice that you have never been alone

Never have you ever fought alone

On this mechanical planet

You were made for perfection

Not created defective

On this mechanical planet

You were not meant to be

Just some broken machine

On this mechanical planet

I love this song! I love Veridia! I think they’re really neat! I have loved this song since I was in college, it’s great, it fits Brainy and his family almost perfectly, bye. I know they’re not quite robots here, but I still appreciate this a lot.

Feed the Machine- Poor Man’s Poison

I said hey (hey), you (you), poison the well

Watch it all burn, take 'em straight to hell

He's got the whole (whole), world (world) in his hands

It was nice to know ya, we've all been damned

C'mon (c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon)

We've all been damned, c'mon

I said hey (hey), you (you), feed the machine

Bring them all back down to their knees

Yeah so this is another song that I associate with Brainy’s family/the Dark Circle, it’s a song that I’ve only found recently so I haven’t gotten to really get into the lyrics, but it definitely reminds me of them generally, and the last part of the movie where it looks like they’ve won.

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene- Hozier

I watch the work of my kin bold and boyful

Toying somewhere between love and abuse

Calling to join them the wretched and joyful

Shaking the wings of their terrible youths

Freshly disowned in some frozen devotion

No more alone or myself could I be

Lurched like a stray to the arms that were open

No shortage of sordid, no protest from me

With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean

She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene

With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean

She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene

So this one I’ve known about for a while but not actually listened to, I think someone from another fandom I’m in used it as a title for a fanfic, but I mean. It’s Brainy and Kara, right? Brainy’s point of view, and his perspective of Kara. Another song I recently started listening to and love a lot, and then realized how perfect it is for this version of these two.

Hold Each Other- A Great Big World, Futuristic

Everything looks different now

All this time my head was down

He came along and showed me how to let go

I can't remember where I'm from

All I know is who I've become

That our love has just begun like ohhh

Something happens when I hold him

He keeps my heart from getting broken

When the days get short and the nights get a little bit frozen

We hold each other

I just think this is a good romantic song in general, and I have used it as a song in my other Karadox playlist/used it as the source of a fanfic title for them. But looking at the lyrics again, it does really fit these versions of Kara and Brainy, and I should listen to it again.

Your Kind of Beautiful- Sophie Park

You see a lion and a sailboat in the sky

All I see is little clouds passing me by

You pick a dandelion and you make a wish

All I see is stubborn weeds growing in the ditch

And if I could be I would be be the way you be

And if I could see I would see see the way you see

Your kind of beautiful is beautiful to me

Suddenly a symphony is playing in my head

Now I want to see the world the way you do instead

Like a silver lining, pretty picture, coin of you

I like the way you make me feel

the way I feel with you

Again, just a sweet song and one that I have on the other Karadox playlist, and it reminds me of when Brainy is healing Kara and telling her that he wishes he could be like her, and about how she’s so strong and brave and beautiful and whatnot. And I also think this fits from Kara’s point of view, with her seeing the good in Brainy and appreciating that he is also beautiful in his own way.

Cloud 9- Beach Bunny

When I start to tumble from the sky

You remind me how to fly

Lately, I've been feeling un-alive

But you bring me back to life

But when he loves me, I feel like I'm floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

Not a lot of lyrics in this one, but I think it’s from Kara’s perspective, contrasting how she feels at the beginning of the movie with her relationship with Brainy afterwards (and bonus “fade eventually to nothing”- nod at Crisis, even though that will never happen in the Tomorrowverse probably)

Life is Strange- MARINA

Don't know what I'm doing with my life

But maybe there's no wrong or right

'Cause everybody feels the same

And all we know is life is strange (Ah)

All we know is life is strange (Ah)

All we know is life is strange

We're in the future, living fast

Can never make a moment last

Is it ever gonna be enough

To love another and be loved?

Because I had to put a Marina song on here somewhere, and I just think this fits Kara’s perspective again, with her going from escaping Krypton to not fitting in on Earth to ultimately finding a place where she belongs in the future.

Bloodline- Natalie Jane

Try to escape it, I try to erase it

But you make me feel so alive

I'm sick and tired of tryina conspire

A way to outrun my bloodline

You ran into a battlefield I tried to disguise

Dodging bullets stepping on mines

All the ones before me have committed this crime

I gave a warning so many times

I mean, it’s such a Brainy song, isn’t it? It really doesn’t need an explanation, it just works for especially this version of Brainy with his relatives being so prominent in this movie and being the big reason that nobody trusts him.

Sparks Fly- Taylor Swift

My mind forgets to remind me

You're a bad idea

You touch me once and it's really something

You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be

I'm on my guard for the rest of the world

But with you I know it's no good

And I could wait patiently but I really wish you would

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

…I think this is a genuinely sweet and romantic song and I loved it when I was a teenager. And I like thinking about it in relation to Kara and Brainy, even though there’s a later lyric that includes “run my fingers through your hair” and that doesn’t really work here for obvious reasons. Although, Brainy could always run his fingers through Kara’s hair, that would be cute.

Intoxicated- The Cab

In a room full of frozen faces

In a moment of fractured time

We eclipse in a conversation

As your words, they pass us by

With you, we could be the only ones here

'Cause I think you're from another world

And I, I couldn't love another girl

'Cause you, you make me feel

Like I'm intoxicated, -toxicated

To the sky, flying high

Take me to the moon

Day or night, we don't have to say a word

'Cause you make me feel

Like I'm intoxicated, -toxicated

Another suggestion from Brandi, again this makes me think of the Miracle Machine situation and Kara and Brainy literally being frozen in time as they stop the machine, and Brainy just generally falling for Kara and being head over heels in love with her (also obviously Kara literally being from another world)

Dark Side- Kelly Clarkson

There's a place that I know

It's not pretty there and few have ever gone

If I show it to you now

Will it make you run away?

Or will you stay? Even if it hurts

Even if I try to push you out, will you return?

And remind me who I really am

Please remind me who I really am

Everybody's got a dark side

Do you love me? Can you love mine?

Nobody's a picture perfect

But we're worth it

You know that we're worth it

Will you love me?

Even with my dark side?

Like a diamond from black dust

It's hard to know what can become if you give up

So don't give up on me

Please remind me who I really am

Another pitch-perfect Brainy song in any universe, and another song I’ve loved since I first heard it. For this movie, I think it works best with the scene where Kara and Brainy talk while Brainy is imprisoned, and Kara indeed doesn’t give up on him, treating him like a hero and telling him that she believes him.

#karadox #tomorrowverse #kara zor el #brainiac 5 #legion of super heroes (2023)#ship: believe in all the possibilities #papa don’t look #long post #rachel talks about stuff #is this very late? yes #but also i still can't believe we got this much with these two so i have to appreciate it #and there are a lot of songs that i think work for them! if you have suggestions let me know #part 3 is coming hopefully soon

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maeve-writes · 3 years

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Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes.

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers.

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm.

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory.

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone.

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.”

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue.

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside.

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed.

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged.

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild.

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves.

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests.

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement.

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him.

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress.

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights.

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention.

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go.

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold.

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck�� jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stripper!bucky barnes #stripper!steve rogers #stripper!au #heroes au

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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

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“your turn”

Harry Styles was a romantic. He hated weddings. Rori Williams was practical. She hated weddings, too. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue.

A story of two semi-strangers to lovers with weddings, drunken confessions, and girls with two names.

gif has nothing to do with it but he looks fancy and i like it :) tpwk

Hi! this is for @meetmeinfleetwood to lovers fic challenge! and it’s a little cruel of me to post it today after those wedding pics came out but i have been working on this for awhile and tomorrow’s the deadline so if it’s too soon im sorry and if its just what you need enjoy! I used prompts 12 and 15! It’s my first ofc story which is a little strange for me but i wanted to use a name for this, but besides her hair and eye color and a name she’s pretty generic,,, idk thank you all for always reading and all of that. lmk what you think and reblogs are always really appreciated

Word Count: 9.3k | Warnings: drinking, swearing, implied? smut (couldn’t bring my heart to write any my apologies), harry being a silly drunk, mentions of being afraid of someone taking advantage of someone under the influence but ofc no! actual any misconduct -- a SITCH wedding!!! so cute ::))

Harry Styles was a romantic.

He loved love songs that professed their undying love for their significant other. He loved romance movies, rom coms especially, because they were happy and in love and he got to cry and laugh all in one. He loved writing his own songs about love and he loved spreading the idea of loving and treating others with kindness. He loved first dates and the relationships that sometimes sprouted out of them. He loved reading books about love and how to make it last. He loved poetry that waxed eloquent about love. He loved love.

He hated weddings.

Well, he hadn’t always hated weddings. In the beginning, they were like every other aspect of love, he loved them. But slowly, as he kept receiving announcements of engagement and wedding invitations and he kept not sending out letters of his own, his aversion grew.

Sure, he still loved going. He still wept for the happy couples when they committed themselves to each other. He still clapped profusely and danced to the dj or live band. He still tried to enjoy it. But with weddings he had a nagging sense in the back of his head reminding him that he still hadn’t found it yet. Each of his relationships had fallen short in some way as to not lead him to this destination. So when he sat at his assigned table at these various gatherings, he held a bit of apprehension, a bit of envy, about everything going on. He knew that his smiles were all a little forced and his laugh not quite genuine. His thoughts always managed to be controlled by his green-eyed monster that he always attempted to keep locked away. But at weddings, especially when the alcohol started flowing, he had a harder time controlling it.

Seeing all his friends getting together, getting married, and having children wore on him. Wore him thin more than he ever let on to anyone but his therapist. And his therapist couldn’t seem to give him a better answer than to be patient and not give up hope.

By 2021, Harry had decided that maybe he was just meant to be alone. Love was something he could admire, but it wasn’t meant for him. He could chase it, but it would never let him have it. He was unlucky in love and by Sarah and Mitch’s wedding in the Spring, he had come to terms with it.

He had even been optimistic for it, being Mitch’s Best Man and all had gotten his hopelessly romantic heart all aflutter. He was introduced to Sarah’s Maid of Honor, Renee Williams and she had been lovely. She was 31, a little older than Harry - but age wasn’t something that deterred him, and she had worked with Sarah in Los Angeles before Harry recruited Sarah for the band. They were best of friends and Sarah had known for a long time that Renee would be her Maid of Honor.

When Harry met Renee, he was sure that she was meant to be his person. She was beautiful and hilarious, her beauty mark at the side of her lip was so utterly unique he called her a “right Marilyn”. She insisted she was not a Marilyn Monroe type at all and had laughed. Harry had charmed her with his expert flirting and claimed that just because she was a brunette didn’t mean she was a Marilyn. She had smiled and bantered through the rehearsal dinner with him at her side. He was entranced, it had to be Renee, he had been so sure of it.

When Renee had walked down the aisle just before Sarah, Harry had been sure of it. When Renee had smiled at Harry as Mitch slipped on Sarah’s wedding band, Harry had been sure of it. When he had hooked his arm around hers as they walked down the aisle and into a foyer, Harry had been sure of it. When she laughed at his jokes while they waited for their wedding party photos to be taken, Harry had been sure of it.

When Renee walked up to Harry at the reception with another man wrapped around her, Harry wasn’t so sure of it anymore.

“Harry, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Corey,” Renee smiles giddily between the two men.

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at the word ‘boyfriend’ and he swallows harshly before blinking and putting on a sweet smile. He thrusts his right hand out for Corey to shake.

“Hullo, mate,” Harry says happily.

Corey greets Harry, extending his hand to meet Harry’s with a warm smile and a “how are you”. Harry laughs boisterously and takes a sip of his champagne flute. They shake hands with a firm up and down motion.

“Planning on getting really drunk,” Harry says in response to Corey’s question. “Have a great night, you two,” he finishes and stalks off for a refill.

Renee watches him go with a little bit of a confused look on her face. She sees him tilt his head back and finish his drink before turning to face her boyfriend and peck his cheek. She mumbles to him, “He’s a really nice guy, wouldn’t stop chatting my ear off the past few days. All these people must make him antsy.”

He nods back to her, “They must.”

Harry sidles up to the open bar, discarding his empty flute and exchanging it for a much stronger drink.

“Tequila. Neat...Please.” He sighs and runs a hand through his curls that are slowly becoming less and less coiffed. His fingers slide to the collar of his shirt and tug, attempting to loosen it a little.

“Rough night already?” Someone asks from beside him.

His face turns to them and sees a smiling brunette. Her eyes are big, larger than most eyes he’s come across. They’re brown with tinges of gold and green, likely making them hazel by her standard since most people prefer saying hazel eyes to brown. Her smile is bright and clean and if Harry hadn’t already heard her speak he would assume she was American from that smile. It was perfect, too perfect - the teeth both straight and blindingly white.

He raises his eyebrows at her and thinks about his response. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, leaving them parted, but he remains silent when the bartender hands him his tequila. Harry wraps a specifically less ringed hand tonight, he had forgone his ‘H’ and ‘S’ rings as well as the rest of them actually on his left hand. His right hand still had two: the large flashing lavender gemstone encrusted in a gold casing from Stevie Nicks on his middle finger and then a clean gold signet ring with little crosses on the sides on the adjacent ring finger. Every other finger was noticeably empty. So when he picks up the glass there is no familiar clink which draws the attention of himself.

The woman doesn’t pay any attention to his hand, she’s still waiting for him to respond to her question, as well as waiting for her other drink to be made. She was taking advantage of the two drink system and getting two for herself right now, so she didn’t have to come back until much later.

“You have no idea,” is how Harry decides to respond and then turns to leave. He forgets about the woman and sits at his assigned table for his entire drink, talking casually with the people who come to speak with him.

When he's finished, he goes back to the bar to order a second tequila. He thinks about the girl who had stared at him with her big brown eyes. How she had seen him and thought to ask how his night was when it seemed to be going to shit. And how he had blown her off with barely a glance. God, he could be such a prick. After he receives his drink, he forgets yet again and continues to drown his sorrows in the golden liquid that helps him numb the pain that he had once again missed out on his fairytale love story.

The girl Harry had run into sat in the corner of the ballroom for the majority of the night. She settled on just having that first round of drinks for herself and one glass of obligatory champagne during the toasts. Other than that, she had promised herself she wouldn’t get drunk and go off with a random stranger. This was not a wedding for that. This wedding couldn’t be for that. She just needed to keep her head low and try to have a semi-pleasant time.

When she was nursing her champagne through the toasts, the man at the bar caught her eye again. She knew who he was. He was the Best Man after all. Sarah talked about him a lot, even Renee after the past few days, but seeing him at the bar had been the first time she’d ever seen him up that close. It was strange, he was so human. So tangible in that moment. His shoulders shook with each breath he took. His fingers tapped as they waited for his drink. His green eyes blinked and darted around as he took in his surroundings and even looked at her. He simply was and it had startled her to see him in a slightly bewildered state at the bar, but again, she wasn’t one to judge.

Get through the wedding. Try to have a semi-pleasant time.

It was time for the Best Man’s speech. Renee had just given the Maid of Honor’s and now Harry was up. He stood up and wavered a little as he tried to stand up straight. The neat tequila likely makes his stance a little harder to maintain. Mitch looks up at Harry at his side and smiles fondly.

Harry raises one hand in an awkward wave while the other is planted firmly on the table.

“Hullo,” he starts, “I’m Harry and I’m the Best Man, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

The entire group of guests laugh wholeheartedly, taken by the talented young man.

“To start,” he stutters, his words slurring slightly from the alcohol he’s had, and his smile slithers into a smirk. “Let’s hear it for the bride and groom, the lovely Sarah and Mitch Jones!”

Queue the laughter again. Harry laughs too when Mitch slaps his arm playfully, he turns to look at him with a mock ‘what did I do wrong’ expression.

“I had a speech written out, took a week to write, made it nice and poetic for these two lovebirds, but it seems I’ve misplaced it,” he pats at his pockets and sighs before rubbing his forefinger at his bottom lip. “I hate weddings.”

Everyone laughs again, thinking he’s joking. Harry grimaces but it passes as a smile even though she can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes.

He rambles on for a few minutes about love and commitment, how this is just the beginning for Sarah and Mitch and everyone laughs at the appropriate times and just when he’s wrapping up, successfully stumbling through his messy mind, everyone begins to clap.

“To the happy couple…” queue applause, but she sees him say something else, it’s drowned out by the crowd cheering and clinking glasses again.

He sits back down, downing his champagne glass that’s been refilled twice already during the speeches. Mitch leans over and whispers something in Harry’s ear as he twists a hand through his hair. Harry shifts away from Mitch and gives him a look, telling Mitch that he’s fine.

The party goes on, a few more speeches, a few more glasses of champagne for Harry, a few more sighs from the girl in the back of the room.

She watches the first dance of Mitch and Sarah but once that part is over she slinks off. She’s got half a drink left and all she wants is to be alone. Tired of the party, tired of the people, tired of having to try to have a good time. The Rowland-Jones Party had rented the entire place out, so she wanders out of the main room and down a hallway until the music is a faint buzz in her ear. The air grows colder as the amount of people dwindles from over a hundred to one.

There’s a door to her right that has an intricate golden handle that she pulls down on. It opens quietly onto a similar ballroom that is slightly smaller than the one the party was going on in. It’s quiet and spacious, her steps echo as she enters on heeled feet. The clicking of her satin stilettos resonate against the linoleum. She walks to the center of the room and turns around herself, lifting her head to the light in the room. An ornate chandelier is still above her, it’s the same gold as the handle that let her in. Her eyes travel to the walls that contain swirls of gold as well, everything was encrusted in gold and splotchy vintage mirrors. It was beautiful and she saw herself in the reflection of one of those splotchy vintage mirrors and actually felt beautiful in that moment.

No one else saw her but herself and she thought she was beautiful, a fleeting thought as she watched her body move. No one to watch as her reflection swayed with her. Her lavender dress swished back and forth, the end of it brushing around her ankles. The tulle fabric climbed her torso, cinching at her waist and draping over her breasts. The sleeves fluttered over her shoulders and ended midway down her upper arm. The somewhat sheer material made her tan skin look all the more carmely in the golden light of the chandelier. Her pendant necklace was silver and glinted in the light as it sat evenly over her exposed clavicle and decolletage.

In the corner opposite of the door there was a single table with three chairs. It seemed whoever was meant to put things away had grown tired and left these out. She wasn’t complaining as she crossed the floor to take a seat. It was the perfect escape. It was quiet and not too cold in the room, which was especially nice since she had left her jacket in the coat room. What wasn’t so nice is that her phone had died and she had nothing to do in the room. It wasn’t horrible though, she had wanted to be alone with her thoughts. She just feared what would happen if she sat alone too long with no escape of the internet to drown those thoughts.

That contemplation was squashed with an unwitting solution not ten minutes later. She had been sitting at the table, sipping her drink occasionally and staring at the chandelier. Sighing with content that it was finally silent beside the clink of her melting ice cubes. The house mixed drink was strong, but with each passing second it grew more and more diluted. She considered herself completely sober.

She only questioned that when she noticed a second person in the room. She hadn’t heard them open the door, but she heard their loud footsteps shortly after.

He all but stumbled in and was entranced by the chandelier like she had been. He walks to the center in a similar fashion and twists around, only this time his balance isn’t as good as hers. He ends up on his ass, legs splayed in front of him and hands behind him only cushioning his fall a little. He lets out a huff, “Fuck.” He runs a hand over his face before bringing it down to look around the room again. His eyes are foggy with alcohol, everything hazy and slightly blurry. It feels like he’s moving with superspeed but as she watches him with a tilted head she wonders why he’s moving so slowly.

He squints while looking around after a moment, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled hair. His tongue comes to wet his lips, but this time it's for a touch too long like he’s genuinely tasting the liquor on them. She raises her brows, observing him, her presence seemingly unknown.

“Oi, you!” He slurs the words and points lazily at her reclined in her chair. “Are you real?”

She half smiles and replies with a simple ‘yes’.

“I like your dress,” he says merely like he was stating a fact rather than giving a compliment. His hair falling into his eyes again despite him just pushing it back.

“Thanks.”

He makes his way to standing, his process rather ungraceful. He twists onto his hands and knees and begins to push himself up. He slips once before making it to full standing, he sways slightly and looks around again like he’s forgotten why he stood up. His eyes land on her again and he decides to make his way over to the table.

“You should probably sit,” she says, watching him splay his arms around him to keep his balance. She had seen him an hour and a half ago and he seemed fine, but now he seemed absolutely and utterly pissed.

“Thanks, mum,” he says as he thunks into the seat beside her, his hand waving off her suggestion.

Her brows raise at the slightly rude comment, but she leans back in her seat still observing him.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She asks once he’s settled and has his head propped up with one of his hands. She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him scan her face again, trying to see if he recognizes her.

His mind must come up empty, a vague memory of the bar slipping away without a second thought.

“It was a joke,” he shrugs.

“No it wasn’t,” she replies easily.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward a little shakily, “Who are you?”

“Aurora.” She licks at her own lips, a stray bit of liquid lingering on her lips.

“That’s a Disney princess name,” he says, unconvinced, how most drunk people were when you told them the truth.

“And my great-grandmother’s and mine,” she responds, a grin playing on her lips as she watches him think it over. “It’s wild how multiple people can have the same name. Did you know people can share a last name as well?”

He leans back in his chair now, unhappy with her snarky response.

“Isn’t that why we’re here, two people joining together and sharing the same last name now?” He threads his fingers as he speaks, mimicking something coming together.

“Yep,” She perks at the question he poses. “You still didn’t answer my question.” Her brows raise once playfully.

“What?” Harry seemed to have lost the plot, his fuzzy drunken brain choosing to forget the first thing she asked him while in this private ballroom of theirs.

“Why do you hate weddings?” She repeats, louder and with emphasis, the words echoing this time.

“Oh,” he looks up to the ceiling and blows air past his lips harshly, “S’ a long story.”

“We got all night,” she offers, and raises her glass to her lips once again.

“A night wouldn’t even cover half of it,” he ponders seriously, his mind reeling. “I’d rather talk about you.”

“Why me?” She laughs like she’s just received the most delightful surprise.

“Because,” He starts and then sits quiet for a moment before leaning forward, elbows on the table as he peers at her, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You only just met me,” she responds. “Not to mention, you’re drunk as fuck, Best Man. Just minutes ago I watched you stumble in here and truly fall on your ass.”

“Then tell me about yourself and I’ll explain my hatred for weddings.”

“You’re awfully good at bargaining for being this inebriated.”

“I never lose my charm, no matter how pissed I may be,” he smirks and gives a sloppy wink, hair falling in his face yet again.

She scoffs, but she is rather amused and intrigued by the man beside her. His tie now completely loosened, hair falling every which way, and his green eyes set on her. The shiny shoes he wore slipped around on the ground as he shuffled his feet below him like a child wanting to go play. She figured it was just his drunk brain trying to amuse himself or something. How could she deny a man who had just drunkenly confessed his love for her at a wedding? Even if it was completely and totally untrue. She at least had to entertain the foolish notion that maybe he actually was interested in getting to know her. If anything, it would help pass the time until she could go home.

“I’ll bite,” she relents.

The smirk doesn’t leave his face, it only widens, “Only if I can, too.”

“I wasn’t saying-”

“Shush, sh-sh-shush. I know that,” he holds a hand up at her, trying to get her to be quiet. He sways again, even in his seat he looks as if he could fall over at any moment. She wondered if he might not remember this tomorrow. “I was bein’...” he licks his lips in a pause, “suggestive.”

She laughs again, knowing his sober brain probably would have chosen a more articulate and suave word since ‘suggestive’ was rather tactless and more straight to the point. If she learned anything from all the conversations she overhead about him, Harry was definitely one for tact.

“You were something, that’s for sure,” she wraps a hand around Harry’s wrist, she draws the hand down from its hovering state and lays it against the table again. She withdraws her own hand back to her glass, her drink almost completely gone now.

He smiles, pleased with himself, but unaware that his charms had worn off with his exorbitant amount of alcohol consumed. At least on this girl they weren’t working. She had never been attracted to people who were too drunk to help themselves and she always hoped that’s how others felt too. She was thankful he had stumbled in on her rather than someone who didn’t feel the same way. It made her sick to think of what someone with evil intentions might do if they came across a babbling drunken version of Harry. Pushing those thoughts away since that wasn’t the case, she decided to pat his hand once just in reassurance to herself and him that this was really happening.

“I’m twenty-five.” She states.

Harry nods, a small smile on his lips now rather than a smirk as he watches her again. He liked how smoothly she moved rather than the rest of the world in his drunken eyes, everything else was choppy and fast. She was elegant and fluid, calming even.

“I love love,” Harry says, eyes remaining on hers, no trace of a joke in his tone, “And it hates me.”

“That can’t be true,” she squints at him, a frown gracing her face for a moment at the sadness she sees in his watery eyes. Not crying watery, just watery from his drunken state.

He says nothing, waiting for her to offer more information about herself before he says anything else. This was the deal after all. She quickly realizes why he isn’t responding and sighs, conversation with drunks was tedious already, but Harry seemed determined to make it even harder.

“I’m from California.”

“They always are,” Harry mutters to himself. He ignores her hum of a question, asking what he just said with a simple sound. “All my friends, they’re either getting married or they’re already married and got kids on the way or whatever. They all found love and I’m just here with fuck all.”

She sincerely doubts what the drunken man is telling her right now, but she knows how to play the game now to get more information. “I hate my job,” she states.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm cursed, like I fucked up one too many times and now I’m doomed to never find love.”

Her eyes widen at this, he sounds so damn sad and she wishes she could take his pain away. She knew what a good guy and she couldn’t imagine why he would deserve to feel this way. No one deserved to feel like they weren’t worthy of love. His sad state truly almost brought her to tears. She’s there in a stunned silence and Harry is confused why she hasn’t said anything more about herself. It was her turn.

“What’s something else about you?” He asks, his hand fiddling with itself on the table. She notices once again that there aren’t as many rings on his fingers as what she thought was usual.

She licks her lips and reaches her hand forward. She grasps Harry’s fiddling hand and stops his movement. “I feel sorry that you feel this way, no one deserves the kind of pain you’re inflicting on yourself. I’m very very sorry for you, Harry.”

“That’s not really…” He trails off, losing his focus on her face and instead looking at their hands touching. The feeling is so intense in his buzzing body. Her touch was so calming compared to the electric feeling in his body. It felt nice.

“Can I ask you a different question and then I’ll tell you something no one knows about me?”

He nods eagerly.

“And you can’t dodge the question, you really have to answer it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What did you say at the end of your speech? It got drowned out by applause, but I saw you say something.”

“You noticed?” He asks kind of surprised, then scratches at his eyebrow. He sees her slight glare and knows to get to his answer. “Asked when it’d be my turn…like to fall in love, y’know.”

She sighs, saddened yet again by his words. “Okay, well, here’s my secret... I hate weddings, too.”

Harry’s eyes light up, maybe he really was in love. She purses her lips and pulls back from him.

“I think you’re my soulmate,” he breathes out, again making a false confession. His drunken brain wants it to be true. He’s desperate for his search to be over, for her to be his person.

She smiles that same sad smile that she keeps getting when he says these sad things to her.

“I assure you, I am not, Best Man.”

He looks at her confusedly. She was beautiful, she was clarity to him. Her brown hair was straight with a little wave in it, like it was straightened for the occasion but never truly that way otherwise. It flowed around her head and shoulders, but she had it tucked behind both ears. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, she just simply was beautiful. Her sun tanned skin looked soft under the golden glow and Harry was sure she was an angel or something.

“Why not?” He insists, leaning forward.

She stands up from her seat. He follows clumsily behind her, standing as well. He was still taller than her even in her high heels. He smiled like a lovesick child down at her, his eyes as big as the moon. She bites at her lip as she sees him look at her so lovingly, so misguidedly. Then she leans up towards his face, up on her tiptoes and past his lips. Her hands hold him straight with them curled in his suit’s lapels. She presses a sweet and gentle kiss to his cheek, closer to his jaw than anything.

“Good night, Harry,” she whispers against his skin before pulling away.

His eyes flutter open, his looks at her confusedly, slightly unaware that he had closed his eyes at all.

“Good night…” He had already forgotten her name, something with an A...or was it an O? He’d have to ask Sarah and Mitch about the girl who had talked to him in the empty golden ballroom, the girl he had fallen in love with. He was certain. She was the one - if only he could find out her name. If he remembered this at all or if he just thought it was a dream.

She leaves the room before him and as she leaves she wonders if she maybe should have made sure he was alright, but she figured their talk was sobering enough. The night was ending and she had a sneaking suspicion that there were plenty of people here tonight looking out for him.

Harry forgot about the girl in the ballroom. Or at least he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. He had woken up at Tom’s place where he had said he would stay after the wedding reception so he hadn’t gone home with a girl. He couldn’t remember her name so he couldn’t really ask anyone about her and he didn’t exactly have a lot of people he could ask. He wanted to ask Sarah and Mitch, but they were already off on their honeymoon and he was one of those people who would never bother a couple on their honeymoon. He was too embarrassed to ask Renee and anyone else for that matter.

So, instead, he forgot. Harry forgot about her for three weeks until Sarah and Mitch returned. He had called them for a hike and lunch the moment their plane had landed. He had missed some of his best friends. It was a lull in the year, where he wasn’t touring or in the studio, just living and writing when he felt like it. So maybe he was in need of some inspiration.

“Ah! The Jones’!” He exclaims as he walks up to their parked car at the head of the trail.

Sarah laughs and Mitch rolls his eyes, half-heartedly since he’s just as happy to see Harry as Harry is to see him.

“I missed you,” Mitch says as he brings Harry in for a hug.

“Don’t let the missus hear that,” Harry tuts while he sends a wink over Mitch’s shoulder to Sarah.

“It’s all he could talk about for the past few weeks,” Sarah jokes as she goes in for a hug with Harry. “How do you think Harry is? Hope he’s eating? I miss Harry.” She mimics Mitch’s voice.

Mitch shakes his head shyly, a smile spreading on his face after a moment. “That. Is not true at all,” he assures Harry, “But you do look a little thinner. What have you been eating?”

Harry elbows him with a grin, “I’m fine. Been bored so I’ve just been filling the time with working out.”

They start their ascent up the hill and into the canyon. Mitch nods, his worry for his friend subsiding momentarily before he says something strange.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, but you’ve been gone, about a girl at the wedding.”

“Oh?” Sarah gives Mitch a knowing look.

“Yeah, well the thing is, I’m not sure if she was real or not. I think she was real, but I was so drunk, there’s so many bits missing in my memory.”

Sarah and Mitch both laugh. “You were very drunk, H,” Mitch confirms.

Harry ignores him, “I even asked her if she was real and she said yes, but y’know people can lie in dreams. All I remember is she was amazing and she had a princess name, I think.”

Sarah thinks about the guest list. “No princess names that I can think of. What did she look like?”

Harry squints ahead of them, his sunglasses pushing his curls back on the top of his head. “She had straight brown hair, not long or short. She said she was, uh, twenty-five. She was in lavender, I think.”

“You think a lot,” Mitch interjects which earns him a glare from Harry.

Harry thinks about this part that he remembered vividly, how she had been so confident that he wasn’t. He adds, “...And I told her I was in love with her.”

“Oh god, Harry,” Sarah sighs.

Mitch gives Harry an apologetic smile.

“She didn’t buy it, but she didn’t run off either. We talked for awhile.”

“Maybe it was a dream,” Sarah says.

“Okay, let’s see,” Mitch grows to be the leader of the investigation, wanting everything for his best friend to find the love he knew he deserved. “Twenty-five year old brunettes at our wedding who are single. C’mon there weren't that many people there.”

Sarah thinks about it again. “Renee’s sister is twenty-five. I don’t remember what she was wearing, I hardly saw her all night,” she pauses, “Which is strange since she wasn’t on the job for once.”

“What do you mean ‘on the job’?” Harry asks curiously, remembering his girl saying she hated her job.”

“She’s a wedding planner,” Sarah says, glancing at him because she was almost sure that Renee’s sister was not who Harry was talking about. “But she had referred me to someone else for the wedding, she consulted sometimes and got us a discount, but said she didn’t like working with people she knew personally.”

Harry nodded, how could Renee’s sister be his girl? How could a wedding planner hate weddings? And wouldn’t it be all the more awkward if the girl was Renee’s sister? Renee’s little sister, could it be? He had no clue.

“I don’t think it’s her, though,” Sarah gives a half-smile, “She’s not super...uh, how do I say this?”

As Sarah says “touchy-feely,” Mitch interjects.

“She’s pretty cold-hearted. She’s relatively nice, but what makes her such a good wedding planner is she doesn’t get caught up in the sentimentality of it, she just understands other people’s emotions and knows how to make them feel amazing.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Sarah looks at Mitch with a strong glare. After all, he was talking about her best friend’s little sister.

“Well, what’s her name?” Harry insists, semi-off put, but knowing her secret made him think it was possible for Renee’s sister and his ballroom girl to be the very same.

“Rori Williams, think it’s short for something else, but I don’t know, as long as I’ve known her she goes by Rori.” Sarah gives Harry a sad smile and it reminds him of his mystery girl.

“Do you think I could meet her or something? I just want to know if it’s her.” Harry says as they reach the first peak on their hike. He looks out at the view from there, Los Angeles was green for once, but he knew it would quickly fade to brown and tan as the spring plants died off again from the summer heat.

“Pretty sure she’s off working on some destination wedding right now. She doesn’t like being bothered when she’s working,” Sarah gives Harry a look for two reasons as she says that. One, because she knows his next question would be to contact her anyway. And two, she’s saying how he is exactly the same, hates being contacted when he’s busy with work. “I can text Renee to see what’s up.”

Harry nods, “Please…” He begins to imagine Rori as his ballroom girl and mutters to himself, “A June Wedding…” getting lost in a silly little daydream.

“Harry Styles is asking after you,” Renee snickers over the cellphone line.

“What is this? The 1800s?” Rori sighs, as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder. She tries to brush her hair from her face with a flick of her head, which makes for a rather silly sight as her head and shoulder move awkwardly. “People don’t ‘ask after’ anyone anymore.”

She was in Hawaii, Maui specifically, steaming a sneaky last crinkle out of the latest bride’s wedding veil.

“Well, he still is doing it. You know how he is.��

“I actually don’t,” Rori responds, easily, ignoring the memories of her two encounters with him. “What does he want?”

“Wants to meet you or something,” Renee says easily. “Thinks he met you at Sarah’s wedding, obviously impossible since I know you scampered off half way through the reception and he was falling down drunk at the half way marker as well…” she trails off.

Rori knows her sister well and expects the next thing to come out of Renee’s mouth.

“Oh my god! Did you hook up with him?!”

Expecting this, Rori responds quickly and calmly, “No, we did not hook up, I would never... I did watch him fall on his ass, though.”

“So it was you!”

“What was me?” Rori squints her eyes at her sister over the phone and finally straightens from her steaming task. She feels like she’s only half paying attention to the conversation, especially since she had no intention of meeting up with Harry. He had been so sweet and sad, and she truly wished him the best, but she knew she wasn’t the answer to his problem.

“You!” Renee all but yells into the phone, “Are his dream girl! He’s been wondering if you were even real for weeks.”

“I’m real,” Rori sighs and crosses the room she’s in to sit at the desk she was using as a work space. She flicks through the planner she was using for the Hearst wedding, set to take place tomorrow. “But I’m certainly not his dream girl...I told him that when he said he was in love with me.”

“He what?!” Renee exclaims and hears her sister sigh once again, she knows Rori is growing tired of the conversation and is ready to offer an excuse to hang up any moment now. “Nevermind that, I’m going to tell Sarah to give him your number and the date you get back to Los Angeles. Keep next weekend clear.”

Before Rori can open her strawberry pink lips to reply, Renee is squealing a goodbye and hanging up. She felt her shoulders sag with the empty line, she reclined into the nicely plush swivel chair. This is why she stayed out of love and relationships when they didn’t relate to work, they were exhausting. Too much ‘he said, she said’ going on at all times. Color palettes, seating arrangements and menus were simple, they made sense, they could be arranged and put into place. Relationships were messy, the actual event of a wedding could even be messy, but when she planned them out, for a single moment everything was orderly and simple. She was in control. She knew she couldn’t be Harry’s dream girl because she knew she couldn’t control that situation.

Upon arriving back in the continental United States, at the end of June, Rori ubered immediately to her apartment in Silverlake. Well, it was a converted garage behind a house of a friend of Renee’s. Like most apartments in Los Angeles, it was funky, but it was Rori’s until she decided where she wanted to move. She never wanted to buy in LA and she never wanted to upgrade from the place she had called home for the past four years.

Almost immediately after dropping her pink work tote bag and worn backpack on the floor next to her medium sized navy suitcase, her phone rang through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ setting with an unknown number. A New York number. Possibly a new client, she picks up quickly and shuts the window-paned door behind her. The days were long, the longest day of the year had almost arrived, yet the sun was still beginning to set in the sky and turn the light blue into a painting of oranges pinks and purples.

“Hello?”

“Is Rori Williams there?” A British voice asks, almost timidly.

“Who’s asking?”

“...Harry.”

“I was told you’d be calling or something along those lines,” she smiles to herself.

Harry sat in his room, chewing at his lip, still unsure if the voice on the other side of the phone call was the woman he had talked to previously.

“Can we go for a drink sometime? How’s tomorrow?”

“Someone is quite enthusiastic.”

“It’s just...I’m trying to figure something out.”

“So I’ve heard,” she chuckles slightly.

“So you won’t tell me whether you’re the girl I talked to at Sarah and Mitch’s wedding will you?”

“What would be the fun in that?”

“So it’s a right Cinderella, if the shoe fits situation,” he mumbles, slightly to himself, but she hears him clearly.

She laughs.

“I don’t really care for Cinderella, I’m not really one for Disney princesses at all, actually.”

His breath catches, a foggy memory of something having to do with princesses tries to break into his mind. He couldn’t remember still and he vowed time and time again that he would never get that drunk again. Too much time lost.

“Alright, Harry. I’ve just gotten home from a work trip so I’m planning on a bath, some wine, and some terribly raunchy TV to get my mind off of my life. How about you pick a time and a place for drinks and hopefully I will show up? Great! Goodnight.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, just clicks the red button that hangs up the phone and goes on with her professed plans. Harry sits in stunned silence for a few moments, whatever he had gotten himself into was going to be a ride of a lifetime.

At a quarter past six, Harry sits anxiously at the bar top of a semi casual, semi fancy, totally cool bar he loved. It was private so he wouldn’t be bombarded with people, but it was still lively enough that it wouldn’t be dead silent if conversation lulled between him and Rori. That is, if she showed up.

His foot begins to tap, ever so persistently against the silver footrest at the bottom of the bar. His eyes shift from right to left, not wanting to order a drink before she arrives, but also not wanting to wait much longer and not order a drink. He’d waived off the bartender twice already.

She walks in, right on time, Harry had just arrived early. Her lips part into a happy smile at his anxious stance at the bar, he mirrors her expression at the sight of her.

She’s wearing a billowy white button down, the sleeves cinching perfectly at her petite wrists, cinched beneath a brown corset-like tank top. Her breasts showed their true size today in this outfit. She had the collar pulled out and the corset made it so that her cleavage was perfectly sculpted just beneath the crisp white cloth. Her pants were sleek and black, understated to draw more of a focus to her top as well as the lavender jewel inlaid pendant hanging just above the swells of her breast. Harry’s eyes dipped to that level for a moment, but quickly recovered to focus on her face. The night of the wedding had been blurry, but he was sure Rori’s face was the one of his mystery girl.

He’s shy tonight and a little more reserved than last time. He’s out of his comfortable bubble, what could anyone expect from a man so constantly watched. He fidgets with the top most button of his shirt that was buttoned and thinks about unbuttoning it to reveal a little more of his chest, but he refrains. At a friend’s wedding he feels safe, but in public he’s always watching, always aware of the possible prying eye. But like he had said drunkenly to Rori, he always maintained his charm, no matter the circumstances.

“Lavender was gorgeous on you, but this…” he gives a graceful sweep of his hand to gesture at her outfit tonight, “is extremely enchanting.”

“So you remember me in lavender? I thought you couldn’t remember me at all.” She grins as she stands directly beside him, similar to the first time they had chatted at a bartop.

Harry clears his throat at her tease, “I knew once I laid eyes on you, I would know. So now I know.”

She smirks at his reasoning and orders a vodka cranberry, both not wanting to get off her ass or look any certain way. Vodka cranberries were acceptable mature drinks, but not overly pretentious in any way. Harry tells the bartender to make it two. She looks at him with a discerning eye.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” She asks as she slides into the bar seat that seems to be trying to look vintage but was likely made no less than five years ago.

Harry sits too, more easily since his legs are longer than hers. “We met in the ballroom for the first time, did we not?”

“No...we met at the bar in the reception room.” Her hand splays to feel the stone of this counter, cold unlike the wood of the previous one. “We were about this close after you’d rudely stepped ahead of me and ordered before I could...not that you noticed. I asked if you were having a rough night and you pretty much dismissed me.” She bites her lip as she tells him the story, her eyes widen as she watches the distress roll over his features at what she says.

“Oh god,” One of his hands reaches to grab her hand to emphasize his apology, “I’m so sorry, that’s so rude. I was having quite a rough night as you would eventually see.”

He stares at her face, trying to meet her eyes, but she’s glued to the sight of their hands intertwined. He was so smooth and it was making her melt, making the walls she had purposefully put up for this date weak. She had rules, especially for guys like Harry - not that there was anyone that compared to him in her life, but she had them and she knew she couldn’t just be swept off her feet by his sweet voice and gorgeous face that has the most puppy-dog look on it.

She knows she shouldn’t but the extra ice she had added to her personality melts away, her eyes going slightly moony as she watches him visibly relax again. “No worries, I enjoyed your company upon the second meeting, even if you didn’t even remember my name after it.”

“Well,” he finally catches her eye, “That’s where I have a bit of a bone to pick.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t tell me your real name...gave me some fake name I can’t even remember, but it certainly wasn’t…” His eyes shift to her pendant again and he looks back at her brassy eyes in the bar’s lighting. “If your name is Rori Williams, why is your pendant an ‘A’?” He says slowly, another foggy memory trying to break the surface of his knowledge but still failing.

She finally feels in control of the situation, calm and assured of herself, which was maybe unfair since it seemed Harry really had a hard time remembering that night and she could really fuck with him if she wanted to, but she wouldn’t - couldn’t - with those earnest eyes looking at her.

“I told you my real name the first time we talked, Harry. It’s Aurora,” she retracts her hand from beneath his grasp and touches at the necklace, “I go by Rori both socially and professionally, but officially it’s Aurora and this had been my great-grandmother’s. I don’t go anywhere without it.”

“Almost as beautiful as its wearer,” he smirks, his gaze stuck on her face, attempting to convey something specific. She thinks she knows what he’s saying with his look.

“You’re quite the flirt,” she rolls her eyes playfully before specifically choosing to take a sip of her drink through the little straw the bartender had put in it. It draws Harry’s attention to her lips, and after a moment they were wet with a bit of excess vodka cranberry and Harry felt himself grow a little hot at the tips of his ears when her eyes meet with his. She had caught him staring, but he recovers easily.

“I remember telling you I never lose my charm, it’s true is it not?” Harry inquires, head leaning closer to her as he takes a sip of his own drink, making a show to lick his lips after removing them from the edge of the lowball glass.

Her laughter is loud but not overbearing, Harry thinks it’s the best laugh he’s ever heard even if she’s laughing at him. She’s true in that laugh, she’s not trying to make him fall for her with that laugh, it’s just her enjoying herself.

She responds with something sweet and the two begin the back and forth of a successful date. They both drink around three drinks as the night persists, but it’s enough for her to feel the burning pull inside the pit of her belly for Harry. His hands stay relatively to himself besides a few subtle touches at her hair and hands every so often, his feet are the ones to blame. At one point in the night, he hooks his loafer covered foot around her ankle and she is quick to lean into it, reciprocating the footsie with ease. Each brush of his leg against hers is electrifying, every nerve in her body was beginning to go crazy. She was buzzing in a way that she hadn’t when she had first encountered Harry. Tonight he was more suave, but with a tinge of timidness that made him irresistible.

Harry made sure he wouldn’t get drunk tonight, ordering only as much as Rori. He didn’t want to be the fool who couldn’t remember their time together, again. Plus, he didn’t want to forget any of their time together, he wanted to remember it all. Everything about her was amazing, the feeling he had about her, the nagging desire to meet her was for a reason, he was sure of it. If her voice was a melody, then she was the most beautiful love song he had ever heard.

At 11:30, he leans in close to Rori, his nose brushing at the hair tucked at her ear and asks her if she wants to leave. She looks at him confused, the warm feeling in her stomach falls because she thinks he wants to end the night.

“Oh,” she says dejected, she swore it was going well. “Right..That’s it.”

Harry’s brows crinkle at her sad face.

“No, love, I was saying,” he raises his brows, “Y’know.”

“Oh! Right! You just sounded so...I don’t know, serious.” She sinks in her seat, realizing her presumptions had been wrong.

“I was trying to be,” he twists his lips trying to find the word, as blush rises on his cheeks. “Seductive.”

The two of them are quickly realizing they can’t pretend with each other. Rori can’t keep up the harsh facade against love with him, he sees right through it. Harry can’t play his old tricks with her, she sees right through them.

She laughs again, “Well, it just sounded like you were bored. Sometimes your moves fall really flat.” She offers a sweet wink in consolation for his failed attempt at trying to really get her weak in the knees.

They were a lovesick mess together as they clambered off their bar seats and exit the bar that had gotten increasingly loud.

“So what’s next?” She asks on the warm summer night.

He steps closer and takes the liberty of fiddling with the strap of the corset she has on. His head is tilted down as he towers over her. “You know me Rori, I’m a hopeless romantic so I desperately want to take you out for dinner sometime and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but,” his breath fans over her face now as he shifts impossibly closer, “I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me. Just tell me what you’d prefer and it’s all yours.”

Her breathing has become a slight pant as his words wash over her. His nose brushes over the ridge of hers and she takes the moment to put her hands on his shoulders and pull him onto her. They were in the alleyway beside the bar, away from prying eyes except a few people too drunk to recognize Harry's face that is all but hidden in Rori.

“Harry,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut as she makes the decision to cross them into the point of no return. She wants this too much. She hadn’t thought this would be how her night would go, thought she would brush him off and never see him again, but god, she needed his warm body everywhere. Needed him to touch every part of her.

“Rori,” he responds.

“I want the second one first,” she whispers, feeling a little too eager, but feeling Harry press excitedly against her reassures her.

His lips press a searing kiss to her and she makes a sound of happiness at the contact. Her hands fist at the fabric of his shirt as she presses her lips feverishly back onto his. Harry’s quick to grip at the back of her neck and the small of her back, keeping her tight to him as he licks into her mouth.

“Can still taste that last vodka cran,” he notes before kissing her again.

Their tongues rub against each other, sloppily but with a tenderness hidden there as well. She snorts at his words which makes him smile and they’re kissing is becoming more silly as they try to contain their laughter. He pulls away, finally giving up trying to maintain the kiss while they both laughed.

“Would you like to come back to mine?” Harry asks as he leans his forehead against hers.

Rori’s eyes flicker open and stare into his, the focus only on his eyes and the sprinkle of light freckles and beauty marks below them. She nods her head, making his move with it. They both smile, trying to contain their laughter once more.

She presses her lips against his once more for a small peck and then lowers her head into the crook of his neck. The skin warm and smooth against hers as she whispers happily to him.

“It’s your turn now, Harry,” Rori says blissfully.

She had been the answer to all his questions.

#to lovers fic challenge #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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margoshansons · 3 years

Text

Alina’s Keftas: An Analysis

So I used to be a costume designer, which means that I pay very close attention to movies and tv shows, specifically their costumes (duh), and I noticed a few cool things about Alina’s keftas in the first season of Shadow and Bone and wanted to share them with you.

(tagging @kazinejghafa cause she wanted to see it!)

Let’s start with her blue kefta, the one she wears the most:

Right away, I already notice quite a few things. One, her color blue is a lot darker and richer than Zoya’s and the other Summoners. It’s a way to make her stand out among the Etheralki more than she already does. We know that Alina just wants to be seen as normal and equal, especially when she’s already ostracized for being Shu, but she's already set up to fail because of the color of her kefta.

Number two, Her kefta is made out of silk, while the others are made out of wool. We know that it’s wintertime in Ravka and we also know that many of Grisha eventually go to the front as part of the Second Army, usually wearing wool to protect themselves from the cold. But the choice to make Alina’s kefta silk implies that she was never seen as a soldier by the Darkling, the King, or the Grisha. She’s a figurehead, something to point at and give the people hope. As soon as she was given her blue kefta she wasn’t a soldier anymore, she became a saint.

Third, the kefta does not fit Alina at all. The belt isn’t tight enough, the shoulder seams are lower and don't line up, it’s baggy and ill-fitting. She looks like she’s drowning in it. This is to perpetuate the idea that Alina doesn’t belong among the Grisha yet. She doesn’t feel like she’s one of them and she’s still clinging onto the hope that Mal will show up and she’ll return to the First Army. Alina doesn’t feel like she fits in, and so her kefta doesn’t fit her either.

Also, the colors of her kefta are unique as well. I know according to the books that Blue is the Etheralki color and gold embroidery is for Sun Summoners, but there’s also another connection there. Blue and Yellow are the colors of the Ravka Royal Family. In a way, through wearing that kefta, Alina is pledging allegiance to the King outright. It’s a sign to anyone that Alina is under the King’s protection, that she’s granted the protection she is because she made her promise to destroy the fold to the King. She’s doing it out of love for her country.

Alright, now let's move onto one of my favorite keftas: the Black Kefta.

(Holy shit she looks so pretty)

First thing first, obvious color change. The Blue is gone and replaced by Black, symbolizing her shifting allegiance from the King to the Darkling. She’s not longer destroying the Fold for Ravka, she’s destroying it because it’s what the Darkling wants and she feels as if he’s the one that’s given her new purpose. She’s left the First Army behind and fully embraced her role as a Grisha.

Because as we can see, this kefta fits perfectly.

The shoulder seams line up, the belt cinches directly around her waist, and it looks tailored to her own measurements. But her kefta is still Silk. She’s not seen as a soldier she’s still seen as a figurehead, something that people cannot relate to.

One thing I also want to touch on is the embroidery and the length. This kefta is clearly more elaborate than any of the other ones she wears. The golden embroidery reminds me of a couple things, around the collar it almost resembles a lion’s mane, and lions are often seen as symbols of majesty, strength and courage as well as military might. Alina herself is reveling in her own majesty and strength here, as well as showing off the new military might of the Second Army through her demonstration.

Then the embroidery spreads out down her sleeves almost resembling flames. Now this could be a reference to sun itself and it probably is, but those who read the books know that there is a certain creature with flaming wings that becomes very very important later on, which I believe this is referencing.

The embroidery itself is also symbolizing Alina’s power. The gold embroidery against the black is her Sun Summoning abilities breaking through the Fold, tearing it apart. It also symbolizes the slow way she’s breaking through The Darkling’s demeanor. She has the power here, not him.

The length is also important to note here, because this kefta is much longer than her other ones. If I’m remembering correctly it touches the floor, which, again, differentiates her from other Grisha because theirs fall to their knees or their shins. It can also be seen as The Darkling trying to make Alina seem older than she is, as length (especially in fantasy) is often used to show how old or young a woman is in society.

Finally (I could literally talk about this kefta all day) I’m gonna touch on the neckline because it is so different from anything else we see. EXCEPT for the Darkling.

The collar is obviously much shorter here, but my point still stands. It’s a connection between these two. And knowing that the Darkling commissioned the kefta himself, it’s deliberate. He’s claiming Alina. It’s also important to note that this is the first time we see Alina without the standard undershirt and turtleneck that comes with the keftas. She’s letting the audience and the Darkling know that she’s vulnerable now. She’s opening herself up, and she’s doing it under the careful manipulation of the Darkling.

Alina’s collar also reminds me of Elizabeth the First and the Elizabethan Era with those stiff necked collars. It’s reminiscent of royalty.

Also! One last thing, I love that this kefta looks the most Eastern in style. It reminds me of a kimono and other traditional asian clothing moreso than the other keftas.

Finally, we are discussing the golden kefta.

I love this kefta because it mirrors the black one in every way.

The length is the same, the Darkling still trying to convince both Alina and himself that she’s older than she actually is, that she’s more mature than she is. BUT MY FAVORITE THING IS THAT THE BELT IS IDENTICAL TO THE ONE SHE WORE AT THE FETE.

It’s the same circumstances, a show of military power, but she is not the one in control here. It’s a direct callback to the last time Alina felt powerful and strong, except now the circumstances have completely switched and she’s under someone else’s control. The last time she wore this belt she was someone’s equal, now she’s their slave.

Also the colors have been completely reversed. I talked a little bit about how the gold on black was symbolic of Alina’s power and control over her situation. How it symbolized the light spreading through the darkness and destroying the Fold and breaking through The Darkling’s hard heart. But here it’s the opposite.

The black embroidery almost looks malevolent, spreading and infecting the golden light. The Shadows are creeping through and slowly overtaking Alina just like her light was overtaking the Darkling. The lion symbolism is gone, the firebird symbolism is gone, all we see is black tendrils of shadow reaching out and infecting Alina and her powers. The Darkling is claiming her again, but in a much more malevolent way.

He’s saying “I have corrupted her, she is no longer in power, I am.”

Also again, we have the open neckline, except this one is more westernized. The angular neckline, the lack of a collar or protection. She is completely vulnerable and at the mercy of the Darkling, a white man (synonymous with western power). It’s showing off her amplifier, it’s showing off the Darkling’s claim over her. Almost like a brand or a dog collar. This open neckline is the Darkling’s way of saying “See those antlers? That means she’s mine. I own her.” It’s disgusting and fucked up but it works.

And again, Alina is in silk, not wool. She’s not being taken seriously as a soldier, just a figurehead at the mercy of the highest bidder. First it was the King, now it’s the Darkling. The silk has become symbolic of how she has no real power of her own, that she’s doomed forever to be an outsider among the Grisha.

Which makes it all the more powerful when she takes it back.

Also HER HAIR! I could do a whole other post about her hair but this is already getting too long hahaha.

I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into Alina’s keftas from a Comm Major who has wayyyy too much time on her hands haha.

#shadow and bone #SaB #grishaverse meta #shadow and bone meta #alina starkov #the darkling #alina starkov meta #costume meta #shadow and bone costumes #grishaverse

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

“ What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

#John Wick imagine #John Wick x reader #john wick oneshot #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction

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odium-amare · 3 years

Text

Tolkien Elves Read Mean Tweets

Tweet: @fingolfinslut i’m looking forward to the day when the world stops sucking feanor’s d*ck. Fukface basterd

Fëanor: “What kind of preposterous name is that? Don’t worry. I will give you something to suck on.”

Tweet: @curufinweno1 Hey, Fingolfin. How’s it feel to always be second best? Must suck pretty hard.

Fingolfin: “Fëanor, you’re not exactly slick about this. Come out behind the screen.”

Tweet: @angbannnng666 Ohhh look at me. I’m finarfin. the irrelevant, resident, prettyboy goody goody! get fucked valar ass licker.

Finarfin: “Ok, that’s not very nice at all.”

Tweet: @idiotfromdoriath Hey Maedhros, need a HAND? Lol.

Maedhros: “Huh, you almost made it original. Idiot from Doriath.”

Tweet: @joshbecker89 Every time I worry I’m threatening my masculinity by listening to nickleback, I remember that Fingon dude wears fricken gold in his hair. Then I feel better about myself. #thatsgaybro

Fingon: “Ok first of all, Nickleback isn’t even that bad?”

Tweet: @hedonisticpleasuredd No offense, but I feel like killing a werewolf nude was the only memorable thing Finrod’s ever done.

Finrod: “I’m just grateful to anyone who’s heard of me really. So thank you, kind stranger.”

Tweet: @angry-edainhuman And the award of most stupid and cowardly elf goes to *drum rolls* Aegnor #whatafuckingpussy #andrethdeservedbetter

Aegnor: “...”

Tweet: @avrillavignefanhardcore Angrod? Wait who’s that again?

Angrod: “Someone more successful than you, brat.”

Tweet: @edgyteen101 Maglor’s entire role in the stories is sooo 2000s. Like we get it. You’re just a sad, emo boi.

Maglor: *proceeds to play sad, emo songs on his harp to annoy the tweeter further*

Tweet: @btsarmycrazyfangirl Celegorm somehow manages to look like a boring jock and that vampire Lestat at the same time every time I see him.

Celegorm: “...Thanks? I’ll take that as a compliment, peasant.”

Tweet: @randomchicka267 Caranthir’s red face makes him look like a big, riped tomato. Why is no one talking about this?

Caranthir: “Bitch, what did you call me? Come out behind the screen and say it to my face!”

Tweet: @ororodreth Curufin is the walmart version of his dad.

Curufin: “...You’re not wrong. But I will remember you @ororodreth.”

Tweet: @feanorian_lover why does Turgon always sound like he’s putting himself to sleep every time he talks?

Turgon: “Ha...That’s funny.”

Tweet: @thefountainman House of the Golden Flower? More like House of the worthless spineless dickless soulless purposely virtueless sellout. Nice lembas commercial you piece of shit.

Glorfindel: “Wait, there’s people that don’t like me?!”

Tweet: @treykennedylol I just watched a muted performance of Thranduil and that asshole just looks loud without any sound on. Like no thank you.

Thranduil: “HOW DO I LOOK LOUD? HOW DO I LOOK LOUD? IM LOUD? I DON’T EVEN THINK IM LIKE LOUD. Suck my ass.”

Tweet: @nympho Watching that Ecthelion dude drown in the movie, made me develop a new kink of wanting to pee on his face.

Ecthelion: “...What the fuck?”

Tweet: @chadchadchaddaddy Legolas looks like a hipster piece of shit and I’m going to fight him.

Legolas: “You seem like a well adjusted person. Come at me and let’s keep count.”

#Fëanor #fingolfin #finarfin #maedhros #fingon #finrod #celegorm #maglor #legolas #thranduil #ecthelion #glorfindel #curufin #caranthir #turgon #aegnor #angrod #tolkien #mean tweets

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

can i request a yoongi chef au? i feel like yoongi's culinary skills are underrated, and I'm just a slut for chef aus in general

Anonymous said: Hi I saw ur request open posts for the new year!!! Could u write more yoongi stories🥺?!?! Your stories are so fantastic and i’m thirsty for more yoongi lolol🤪(hopefully u get enough votes to do more of him haha)

I feel like Jin’s the one who’s usually written as the chef, prob because he’s the better known chef in BTS, but you’re right! There’s gotta be more chef Yoongi!AUs, so here you go!!!

↳ Buttering Up

2.2k || 100% Fluff & Flirtation || Min Yoongi || Chef!AU

He clearly doesn’t know who you are.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

You hum, arms crossed as you eye him up and down. His black hair is practically a bowl cut, bangs covering his forehead. He’s in casual clothes — a taupe trench and black pants — looking like he’s ready for a trip to the grocery store rather than to cook. You wonder where this child crawled out from.

“You’re Yoongi?”

“That I am.” He approaches the door of the restaurant before plunging his hands inside his trench coat pockets. He fishes out the key and unlocks it, ushering you inside. “Hope you don’t mind that the restaurant’s closed down.”

You mind much more that he left you waiting on the cold city street for over ten minutes. You still can’t believe he was late. The audacity.

“I would’ve liked to see how you and your staff do your dinner service.”

“Unfortunately, we’re booked full for the next two months.”

You scoff — how doesn’t he know who you are? You’re a food critic who’s brought highly regarded restaurants to their knees through a review of five sentences. Your words alone has had rippled effects in the industry. Even the most talented chefs hold their breaths when you taste-test.

You make Gordon Ramsey look like Mother Teresa.

This Yoongi character is much too arrogant to not respect you. His new and upcoming restaurant might have raving reviews, but you’ll see what’s really going on.

“Sit wherever you’d like.”

There are no waiters in fancy garb, no hand sewn tablecloths made of silk. He doesn’t even pull out the chair for you. Instead, he’s off flickering on the lights of the restaurant while you choose a wooden table and chair right in front of his open kitchen — which is a horrible mistake in itself.

Open kitchens have always been a concept that has fallen short in your eyes. It’s much too noisy during dinner service and it gets smelly fast. Who actually wants to leave smelling like butter and oil?

It’s something you note as you get settled.

Your coat drapes at the back of the chair and then you watch him. Yoongi’s taken off his trench as well, revealing a white long sleeve that he’s beginning to roll up to his elbows. He’s lean and his build is small, but somehow, he’s far from being scrawny. You gawk at the veins running up his forearm until he casually asks—

“Do you have a preference for wine?”

“I’m fine with any.”

He hums and comes over from the glass cabinet with a bottle of chardonnay and a wine glass. Yoongi pops the bottle easily and pours into the pristine glass with a mere tilt of his wrist. You watch the stream fill the glass a quarter way full.

“Is there a menu?”

“You don’t need one.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“If I were you, I’d put myself in the chef’s hands entirely and go with their recommendation.” He strides away, placing the wine bottle on the other table and then he turns with a glint in his eye and his mouth slightly crooked upwards. “Unless, of course, you don’t trust your chef.”

Oh. He’s confident.

You can’t wait for his ego to blow up in his face.

“Fine then.” Your head tilts upwards. “What’s your recommendation then?”

He rounds his way to go into the kitchen that’s only a few meters away from where you sit. “Risotto with grilled chicken breast, topped off with caramelized onions, mushroom, grilled zucchini and sautéed tomatoes.”

You roll your eyes. What a basic dish. Isn’t it just rice? And with chicken breast?! Ew. It's guaranteed to be bland.

“Alright then.” You give a smile that might be more mocking than intended. “We’ll see how it tastes.”

Yoongi starts and while sipping the chardonnay, you take a good look at the restaurant from your spot. The place is rustic with a hint of contemporary. There’s exposed brick, wooden tables and chairs, and low, yellow lighting. There’s nothing particularly impressive about the place.

Soon, the sound of rapid, rhythmic chopping fills the space and then sizzling. You watch him intently. And you’re appalled. This Yoongi guy commits the worst cooking sins — his pan is cold when he starts throwing on ingredients. He cooks with olive oil. He overcrowds the pan. And he doesn’t even taste test once as he cooks.

What the actual fuck.

There’s a line between arrogance and insanity, and he was crossing it.

You cringe when he starts using his metallic spatula on the non-stick skillet.

Is he even qualified to run a restaurant?!

Or maybe your assistant sent you information about the wrong restaurant? Or maybe this was not the guy you were supposed to be eating from. What if he poisons you or kills off all of your taste buds?! Your career would be ruined.

“Everything going okay?” you pipe up.

He glances up at you for the first time, eyes peering past his bangs. “Yep. Should be done in five.”

Food is simple. It either tastes good or it doesn’t. But the higher up you go and the fancier it gets, the more convoluted the food tastes with bland flakes of gold and the same old truffle shavings. That or it’s entirely boring and unoriginal.

Or in this case, it might kill you. Which would be the first. And you’re not happy about it.

You feel unsettled when he plops the dish in front of you.

“Chef’s recommendation.”

“Thanks.”

You feel unsettled because it actually smells good. The aroma that fills your senses is flavoursome and buttery, and the thyme on top adds a fresh hint. You’re also unsettled because the plating isn’t actually bad. It’s been presented in a pasta bowl with wavy designs and the chicken breast is thinly and neatly sliced on top. It’s clean. It’s bright. It’s colourful.

But the most lethal poisons are the appetizing ones.

“Are you going to wait until it gets cold?”

You look up, brows raising at how he’s gotten comfortable in the chair across from you. Usually the chefs and waiters or waitresses like to skedaddle off and leave you to your own thoughts, too afraid to stand in your intense scrutiny. But Min Yoongi twists off the cap of his water bottle and casually downs it in front of you.

“I’m just looking at the presentation.”

“Tastes better than it looks,” he exhales after swallowing his water.

Your expression becomes skeptical. But you take the silver spoon beside you anyhow and decide not to waste any more time.

The spoonful goes into your mouth. He watches you. You chew.

Instantly, you halt.

The flavour hits your tongue. Creamy. Thick. But each individual grain of rice still has some firmness with a discernible texture. It’s been done al dente. There’s sweetness from the caramelized onions. An earthy flavour from the mushrooms. A zesty touch from the thyme. The chicken breast is somehow still juicy and the tomatoes burst on your palate.

Suddenly, you’re thrusted back into your childhood. Those summer days spent in the cottage. Sun-kissed cheeks, dirtied knees, cotton dresses. You can hear your late grandmother in the kitchen. The way she calls out that it’s lunchtime. You can feel the comfort of family and love.

It feels like you’ve become the food critic in the ratatouille movie.

You almost cry.

“What do you think?”

You clear your throat. You have to be honest. There’s no way you can lie about something like this. “It’s good. I think...this is the best risotto I’ve ever had. You cooked it perfectly and the toppings you chose were absolutely immaculate with this dish—”

You look up at him. Min Yoongi has an enormous, cocky smirk plastered across his stupid face.

It’s entirely off-putting.

“But of course,” you quickly add, “there are many ways you could improve on it. You could add cilantro—”

“That would unnecessarily drown out the notes of thyme you taste,” he rebukes without a single beat and you scoff.

“I noticed you didn’t add any pepper to it which could deepen the flavour.”

“Except this dish doesn’t need it,” Yoongi deadpans. “You don’t need to help me make any adjustments. I think I know what I’m doing better than you are. Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

You suck in your cheek and narrow your eyes on him before you take another bite of the risotto while it’s still hot. “The food is delicious, but I must say, the company really spoils it.”

Yoongi’s slumped with one cheek resting in his hand, elbow on the table. He lazily stares at you with that smirk of his. “Really? Because if I didn’t know any better, you look nervous rather than annoyed.”

You scoff for the second time. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Maybe you didn’t expect the food to taste as good as it does and that makes me unexpectedly attractive,” he states plainly. You almost choke. You hit your chest as you sputter. “Or maybe you’re intimidated by me. I’ve gotten both before.”

You wipe your mouth with the napkin. “I’m afraid you’re not very perceptive, Min Yoongi.”

“Really? I think I am.” He smiles, the corners of his mouth quirked. “I’ve read your reviews before.”

You’re unamused. “Have you now? So you must know how difficult I am to satisfy.”

His smirk is sly and it’s jarring against his softer, more tender features. He’s smaller than the men you’re used to being around, but somehow it feels like he’s taken up the entire space of the restaurant. His focus on you is sweat-inducing. Even if you don’t want to admit it.

“I don’t think so. You’ve just been eating shit food,” he says bluntly and your brow cocks. “You just need someone good you can trust. Someone who can take care of you properly.”

You’re not sure if the double entendre is purposeful. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“And is this someone you?”

Yoongi shrugs and sits back. “It could be.”

You grab your glass of chardonnay and gulp the rest in an effort to stop the conversation before it completely derails into a different direction. Yet, Yoongi’s half-lidded and darkened eyes stay on yours with each swallow. He’s unfazed. Unbothered. And that bothers you even more — bothered in a way that makes your face hot.

There’s a clack as you put the wine glass down and gasp.

“I’m a professional.” You won’t be swayed so easily. “I can’t be bribed.”

“Of course.” He blinks as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You glare at him and he gestures to the dish. “Please. Keep eating.”

You finish the plate.

“Do you want any seconds?” he asks as he gets up.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi lingers, all too brazen and fearless. “If you don’t get any more now, you might have to come back for more.”

This time, you don’t try to hide the roll of your eyes. “That’s a presumptuous assumption.”

Yoongi smirks and his voice is husky. “After getting a taste from me, everyone comes back for more.

You scoff.

Min’s Restaurant Review

Three nights ago, I ate at Min’s Restaurant and met the main man in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he is a difficult person to interact with. I hope no one has the disservice of having to speak to the chef behind the dishes. Doing so may as well ruin the experience. Furthermore, his cooking methods are unconventional and unorthodox. It was completely shocking to watch.

However, and what I would consider most important, the food at Min’s Restaurant is spectacular. What Min’s Restaurant lacks in likeable personnel, they make up in the served cuisine. The meal that was prepared for me not only subverted my initial expectations, but overcomes, what I consider, what the food industry is lacking in this modern age exactly. Without unnecessary garnishes and ingredients, the flavours of Min’s Restaurant are both light and deep. It was an undeniable delight to consume and for the first time, I licked my plate clean.

It is undoubted that the man behind Min’s Restaurant has the hands of god.

You should have pride.

But you’ve always loved good food. It’s your Achilles heel. It’s the one thing you’ve been passionate about since you were a kid. The reason why you love your job.

Even after writing such a review, you find yourself booking another reservation. But as a customer instead of a critic.

Of course, they were booked full for the next six months, largely thanks to your review, and they swiftly refused you with numerous apologies. But they called back not ten minutes later. You have a feeling that your name finally sunk into them — that he had something to do with it.

That theory is confirmed when you arrive. The person in question is next to the seemingly nervous hostess as the noisy kitchen echoes throughout the busy restaurant.

In the low lighting, Min Yoongi stands there with a relaxed smirk. As if he was expecting you. As if he knew you’d come crawling back to him to eat out of the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively.

You hate that he’s right.

“Welcome back.”

#bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi scenario #yoongi reader insert #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts reader insert #yoongi x reader #honestly this is one of my favourite drabbles out of the entire collection #I think someone else mentioned there's not enough flirty Yoongi out there #AND I AGREE #this man naturally has big dick energy and I love it lmao #jimlings #Anonymous

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Five: War

Author's note: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: just a smidge of angst, talking about feelings and a slightly steamy moment to look forward too.

Word count: 5,200>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Five - Next

When you returned back to Max’s home, the sky was pitch black. Max fumbled opening the front door, grunting in frustration when he couldn’t get the key in the hole because it was so dark. When the door finally swung open, he sauntered inside without saying a single word. You hovered behind him, following him around his home like a lost puppy. He strolled into the living room, walked over to the mini bar, and poured himself out a glass of honeyed whiskey. He contemplated taking the whole bottle upstairs to his office and using the alcohol to drown his sorrows away. The silence made him forget he had a guest. “Can I get you a drink?” he muttered, not even looking at you. His thumb grazed the expensive liquor label.

“I’m okay,” you denied quietly. Maxwell didn’t say a word, but he took a swing out the small crystalled tumbler. His eyes were still glossy from his tears and his blonde wavy hair poking up in random places. He was practically unrecognisable from the television infomercials, although you deemed it inappropriate to bring up his appearance right now. To you, he was still so handsome. You waited for him to say something, but a few minutes had passed and not a single word had escaped his soft lips. “Max, I think we need to talk.”

You had a lot of questions, and he had a lot to ask you. Maxwell poured out another glass of whiskey before turning around and leaning against the bar. “Yeah, I agree. Why did you read the letter?” He asked first through a shaky exhale. Clearly it had been preying on his mind. Inside that letter was information he wanted nobody to see. He didn’t even want to see it himself. But you… he actually cared about what you thought of him. He feared your judgement more than anything else.

“You’d really hurt yourself and I could see you were very angry. When I saw the letter crumpled up on the floor, I thought it might have something to do with it and I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” You explained your genuine concern, even noticing the way Maxwell’s face softened at your confession. Despite the fact you had invaded his privacy, he just couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you. “I knew I was looking for a man named Lorenzano. If the letter hadn’t told me you were Lorenzano then I would never have gone to Thomas Family Lawyer’s.”

“I find it difficult to believe that you were worried about me,” Maxwell scoffed incredulously, rolling his eyes and taking yet another swing of his drink. The warmth your words had brought him were short lived and he was immediately engulfed in a cold, unwelcome chill.

“I was,” you reiterated. “I care about you a lot. You- you’re my friend. You gave me a home and you believed me when I told you about Themyscira and the God’s. Max… can I ask… why did you believe me?”

Maxwell hesitated for a few seconds, anxiously picking at his already short fingernails. He could lie. He could tell you that he only believed you when you demonstrated the lasso of Hestia on him, and that would be enough. But there was no time to be deceitful, not anymore. You’d been honest with him from the very beginning, and he owed his honesty to you too. For the sake of Alistair, he needed to be truthful. For the very first time, Maxwell was going to open up about what happened on the island when he made a broadcast to the entire world.

“Part of me already believed you when I saw you in the lobby of Black Gold for the first time. You were asleep on the sofa, covered in mud, in that crazy Amazonian costume thing…” he gestured to your tunic and skirt which was still discarded on the floor from when you had undressed earlier. He chuckled lightly at the memory of you. You were so beautiful and peaceful. He thought that when you awoke, it would be revealed to him that you were there to hurt him - just like everyone else in the world. “There was just something about you. When I saw you for the first time I just felt… I just felt like…” Max was struggling to get his words out. He couldn’t describe the feeling. For the first time, the well articulated and extroverted businessman was at a loss for words. All he knew was that every second he spent with you, this strange feeling grew stronger and stronger. “I just knew I could trust you,” he shrugged helplessly. That part was true at least. “It sounds dumb, I know. You’re a stranger. But I’m not a very trusting man in the first place, so feeling this was kind of a big deal. And then you mentioned Diana,” Bewilderment crossed your face as you wondered what exactly Diana had to do with any of this. “I knew a woman called Diana Prince. Worked at the Smithsonian museum,” Maxwell took a deep breath before saying your name. He took both of your hands and sat you down on the sofa. “I need to confess something.”

“What is it?” you asked with concern. You brushed your fingers over his knuckles and he relished the way your simple touches erupted a frenzy of butterflies in his stomach.

“I did a bad thing,” Maxwell told you, fear in his eyes. “And I’m still confused and… afraid. Look, I actually care about what you think of me so please-”

You placed a chaste kiss over Maxwell’s knuckles and Max swore his heart stopped beating. Your lips felt just as soft as they looked… just as soft as he’d imagined earlier in the shower. You didn’t know why you kissed his hands… you just felt like it. And it felt good. And you hoped that maybe one day you could do it again. Your eyes flicked up to meet his own. “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. I’m here to help you Max. I won’t judge you.” you promised.

“Okay,” he said with a deep sigh. “My company… I’ve worked my whole life building up Black Gold Cooperative. I really just wanted to do something great. Growing up, I never really had an idol or someone to look up to. And when Alistair was born, I wanted to give him the world. Anything he wanted. Because he was my son and most of all I just wanted him to be proud of his father. I was led along the wrong path by a few businessmen who were trying to sell off their investments in oilfields for cheap. So I bought them. Turns out, the oilfields were completely dried out and they weren’t going to earn any money whatsoever. I looked at the data and nothing suggested that was going to change but I couldn’t bear to give up. I didn’t want to look like a failure in front of Alistair… in front of my wife,” he croaked out, rubbing his temples as the stress consumed him. “So, I clung on to hope. And I never let go even when I probably should have. I led the world on with my infomercials, telling people that if they invested in us they’d own a part of the most lucrative oil industry in the world. And as share prices rocketed up, they’d eventually earn more than what they put in. That was the plan from day one. But the cold war meant that-”

“-Max,” you cut him off with a gentle whisper. “You’re putting yourself down for having hope. You shouldn’t- you shouldn’t do that. Having hope is the most important thing in the world.”

“I was deceitful,” Maxwell grumbled, shaking off your comment. “I found this stone that supposedly possessed magical powers. I’m a realist, I couldn’t believe it but I had to see for myself. It dated all the way back to ancient Rome… was a beautiful citrine. After a heist in the mall it was stolen and… let's just say I got my hands on the stone by means I’m not at all proud of. The stone possessed wish granting powers and I-”

Maxwell was rambling but at this point, he didn’t need to give you any more information. You already knew. Everything was making sense. From your dreams and your visions and now this.

“No.” was the only word you managed to breathe out. You shook your head profusely as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. It couldn’t be. You remembered your mother telling you that one of the stones was magically destroyed and no one knew how or why. But if Maxwell had wished to become the stone... “No no no… you didn’t, did you?”

Maxwell swallowed as he immediately sensed your disappointment in him. He nodded in silence, unable to say any more words. He felt nauseated. It was already so difficult to live with - the fact he had spiralled into mania so fast. At his core, he was a lonely man who had nobody to guide him. He thought he was in control the entire time but the truth is, he had lost control.

“Romulus possessed you,” you exhaled shakily, wiping your eyes. You let go off his hands and stood up, brushing yourself down. You nervously began to pace up and down the area of the living room. Maxwell closed his eyes, unable to let himself even look at you. He figured you were so disgusted in what he had done, you couldn’t even touch him anymore.

“Who?” Max questioned you eventually. He wanted the answers too.

“The God of Lies, Max!” you snapped back, not even realising how you’d raised your own voice but you were so stressed and paranoid. “Oh goodness… what if he’s still in you. What if-”

“I renounced my wish.” Maxwell informed you with not an ounce of emotion in his voice. He felt empty. Your head snapped to face him once more and your face softened at his revelation. You wanted to hold Max, cradle him in your arms and promise him that everything would be okay. That you’d be able to figure all this out together. But there was still so much you needed to know.

“Why?” you gasped in defeat, letting your shoulders slump.

“Diana.” Maxwell shrugged weakly, fumbling with the sleeves of his sweater.

“No,” you shook your head. “Why did you wish in the first place?”

“I was so afraid of Alistair thinking I’m a loser. Sometimes it’s so easy to believe the whole world is against me. I just wanted him to love me the way I love him.”

“Alistair has always loved you, Maxwell.” you told the teary eyed man, grabbing his arm and squeezing it. Max’s breathing hitched under your touch and he spent a few moments contemplating your words. No person had ever shown him such unconditional kindness. People were either intimidated by him, or enemies with him. No one had ever even wanted to be his friend. Even his relationship with Julianna was a whirlwind fueled on lust and her desire for his money. That’s why as soon as the oil fields dried up, the marriage broke down, and she’d gone on to find someone else with money - Theodore.

“Julianna messed with me, a lot. Told me that Alistair cared more for Ted than me, that I was nothing but a low-life. Since I found out Julianna was pregnant I was filled with this fear. I wasn’t scared of becoming a father, I was scared of becoming my father,” Maxwell choked out, making a fist as anger consumed him. He tried not to hate, he really did, but he could never ever forgive his father’s actions. You watched as his lips trembled and he looked down at his feet. “The world almost collapsed and it was all my fault,” he shuffled his feet around uncomfortably. “And I’m filled with this gut wrenching guilt I just can’t escape…” He looked up at you and wiped his eyes furiously. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said, moving his hand away from his face and wiping his tears away with your own fingers. “You are a beautiful man,” you whispered, cupping Maxwell’s face and stroking the height of his cheekbones. You saw him flush a gentle pink colour. “And Alistair is so lucky to have a father who would do all of this… just for him. You are loved. You are loved way more than you know.” you assured, and Maxwell found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. He was so pretty you could just kiss him again. Maybe this time on the lips.

“How- how can you not hate me?” he choked out, taking you out of your thoughts about kissing him. “Even I hate me. I’ve been thinking, maybe I’m not good enough to be a father.”

“I know how it feels,” you admitted hesitantly, biting your lip. You’d never spoken about this to anyone before. “My father is Zeus, king of all Gods. My mother is Hestia, the Goddess of Truth. I know how it feels to be put on a pedestal. To be compared to others and I know how it feels to not feel good enough. Not important. To have no purpose…” you trailed off. “I’ve spent my life searching for some significance. Zeus had many children, most of which were never able to satisfy their duty as a God or Goddess. But when I started to have these dreams… when I heard your voice I knew in my heart that you… you are my purpose.” you took a deep breath and smiled. “But Max… the dreamstone…”

“What is it?” Max urged you, his dark eyes flicking to yours. “If you can help me with Alistair, let me help you with this. Whatever you need, I can help you.”

“I- I don’t know if you can.” you confessed with a sigh.

“What is it?” Max repeated, staring into your eyes.

“My mother told me the story of two brothers, Romulus and Dolos, both the God of Lies. They were evil… destructive. They wanted to watch society collapse and build a new world. A world they could rule together,” you explained and Maxwell winced. Maybe you were right. Romulus had possessed him… because all of this was sounding far too familiar to him. “When the brothers left Olympus, Zeus gifted them with two citrine stones. The brother’s practiced their wish-granting powers on the stones. Romulus created Rome and Dolos created Athens. And now, only one stone remains.”

“Dolos’ stone remains,” Maxwell said his thoughts out loud and you nodded in affirmation. “Because it was Romulus’ stone which possessed me. So how do we destroy Dolos’ stone?”

“My mother… my mother told me only one thing can destroy the stone.” you whispered. Maxwell looked at you with an urge for you to continue. “Love.” you revealed.

There was a deafening silence that filled the room. “I-I don’t understand,” Maxwell swallowed. “It was the truth that pushed me to renounce my wish. Truth is the opposite of lies… your mother is the Goddess of Truth so maybe-”

“She told me love would destroy the stone,” you repeated, putting your foot down. “There’s no question about it. She’s my mother and I trust her.”

“Okay okay,” Maxwell soothed you. “I trust her too. I just don’t understand how-”

“Me neither,” you exhaled, cutting him off. “But we’ll figure it out, right?”

“Right.” Max confirmed. “Are- are you tired?”

“A little.” you admitted.

“There’s five empty bedrooms upstairs. Take your pick. Make yourself at home.” Maxwell smiled wearily and you nodded your head in appreciation. He was so friendly with you. So generous.

“Thank you Max,” you whispered. “You know. I think you’re a good person.”

Maxwell swallowed. You were so softly spoken and you looked so gorgeous under the dim amber lights. If you were any other woman in any other circumstance, he’d press you against the wall and promise you a night you’d never forget. But he couldn’t do this to you. You were so innocent- and he could risk hurting such a delicate soul. “I’m going to tidy up down here first but uh- I’ll come say goodnight in a few minutes.”

You left the room and Maxwell stood alone for a few moments. As he tried to tidy up the mini bar, every single one of his thoughts were consumed by your beauty, your kindness… just you. And that’s when it hit him. Had he fallen in love with a goddess?

There was so much he didn't know about you— but if he could, he'd spend every waking moment with you, asking you questions about Themyscira and your family. He wanted to know what it was like over there, and if he could visit. He wanted to meet Hestia. He couldn't help but smile to himself. You were literally the daughter of Zeus— and you were in his home. If you had came into his life a week ago, he would've idolized you for your power, but now it was different. He genuinely liked you and wanted to be around you. It was crazy.

You walked down the long, wide corridor, not really caring too much about which bedroom you select. You had more important things on your mind— such as how you were going to find the dreamstone, and how you were going to destroy it. Maybe it didn't make sense right now, but you could only hope that the pieces of the puzzle would begin to fall into place sooner rather than later. The bedroom you had settled in was large, with an en-suite bathroom and a walk in closet. It was magnificent, but then again, it seemed as though every room in Maxwell Lord's home struck you with awe. The bed was enormous too, much bigger than the single one you had back on Themyscira. You wondered to yourself what the point was in having such an extensive sized bed, but you struck it down to comfort over anything else. And it certainly was comfortable. You kicked off your gladiator sandals and sat on the white sheets, sighing as the soft material silked around your bare legs. It was wonderful.

Taking the photograph from earlier out of your shirt pocket, you held it delicately between your fingers. Maxwell Lord, with dark brown hair and a smile that could break hearts, holding little baby Alistair. Every time you looked at the photo your heart felt like it was melting, but in the best way possible. You could practically feel the love radiating from the father and son.

You placed the photograph carefully on the nightstand and unbuttoned the pinstripe shirt that Max had loaned you. Folding it up, you placed it in his closet amongst his other clothes, deciding that's where it belonged. You climbed under the sheets, tangling your naked body amongst the blankets. It felt amazing. Your surroundings might have been unfamiliar, but you had never felt more at home.

Just then, the main light switched on, illuminating the whole bedroom. Max gasped when he saw you lying in his bed. "Oh- oh shit, hey!" he exclaimed awkwardly, his eyebrows raising. His expression was almost animatronic as he saw your shoulders and the top of your bare chest peek out from underneath the duvet. "So, you found a bedroom! Uh- that's good."

"Is everything okay?" you asked, sitting upwards and propping yourself against a pillow. "Is it because I'm naked?"

"No- I mean yes! I mean no! Everything is fine. And, I know you said you were used to sleeping naked before so, it's okay. I promise. I just- you see- this is actually my bedroom. And that's my bed. So…"

"Oh." you nodded slowly, feeling slightly embarrassed. It usually took a lot for Max Lord to get flustered the way he was, and that scared him.

"No! I mean, there's no way you could have known. It's fine. You can sleep here tonight. I'll take one of the other rooms." Maxwell smiled, reaching over to the light switch to turn it off again. "Good night."

"Max wait-" you called before he could leave. He looked at you but said nothing. "Do you think that you could stay with me tonight?" you asked hesitantly, shuffling around the blankets. "It's just… when I'm with you, I feel… safe."

Maxwell struggled to find words, so instead, he just nodded, and sat next to you on the edge of the bed. "When I'm with you I feel safe too," he confessed with a gulp and you smiled. "Although that's probably because you're some superhuman goddess. I suppose I also feel quite intimidated by you." he shrugged, a nervous blush flushing his cheeks.

Your gaze snapped to face him and you tilted your head in bewilderment. "Intimidated? You are intimidated by me?" you asked. "Why would you- why-? I don't understand. I mean, look at me." you scoffed incredulously, gesturing down to your body that was hidden by the thin white material of Maxwell's duvet.

"I am." he exhaled, his eyes not leaving yours once.

And there were the butterflies again. The feeling you just couldn't shake. Everyone he looked you in the eye… every time his voice got low and soft it just made you feel… you couldn't even put it into words. Maxwell rubbed his feet awkwardly along the carpet.

"You can come under the blankets with me?" you suggested after a brief silence. You pulled the duvet open and gestured for him to lay next to you.

"Oh I don't know," he shuffled around. "Here, in the world of man, people only really lay together if they're… well, together." Max explained.

"Aren't we together?" you shrugged your shoulders.

"Mm, not like that," Maxwell pursed his lips together. He wanted to lay with you— he really did, but he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. "People only lay together if they're… in love."

"Were you in love with Julianna?" you asked a little too quickly. Maxwell finally broke his gaze from you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that." you tried to retract but Maxwell shushed you.

"No, it's okay. The truth is… I don't know. I thought I was in love with her but… I'm not sure anymore." Maxwell sighed, running a finger through his hair. He wasn't sure because now he was having feelings for you and these feelings weren't anything like he had ever felt before.

"But you shared a bed with her?" you quizzed.

"Well, yeah. We were married."

"Have you shared a bed with anyone who you weren't married to?" you beckoned further.

Maxwell paused. "Of course."

"So please," you hummed, smoothing out the bed sheets. "Lay with me."

Maxwell smiled before taking off his shoes and climbing in next to you. "Have- have you ever shared a bed with a man before?" Maxwell asked, swallowing the hard lump in his throat. Just the thought of you being with another man made his head spin.

"No," you said quietly. "There are no men on Themyscira." you reminded him.

"Oh right yeah." Maxwell nodded understandingly.

You snuggled up close to him and laid your head on his chest. "You're warm," you mumbled happily. "It's nice."

Maxwell stretched out his arm and wrapped it around you. You and him were cuddling in bed. He wanted it to mean something, he really did, but he couldn't help but feel like it was platonic on your end. You smelled so amazing. And your body fit into his like a puzzle piece that had been missing his whole life. He could stay in this moment forever. And you were also more than content. Maxwell was broad, and his arms were strong. You felt safe laying with him, you felt like he could protect you from any danger. You trusted him. And he trusted you.

"So, am I the first man you met?" Maxwell asked you, clearing his throat.

"You are," you confirmed. You pulled the photograph of Maxwell and Alistair from the nightstand and showed it to your friend. "I found this earlier today. I like it a lot."

"Oh yeah, that was the day Alistair was born," Maxwell smiled. "I was happy that day."

"You're so lucky to be a father. I've always wanted children." you confessed, biting your lip.

"Well maybe one day you can have some of your own." Maxwell murmured, smoothing out your hair.

"I doubt it. Amazons can't bear children. Although, I suppose I could."

"What makes you different from the other Amazons?" Max beckoned.

"A lot, actually. They're all warrior queens. Fighters. But Zeus blessed me with the ability to carry children if I were to become a mortal, because I'm the Goddess of Home and Hearth. I reunite families. I'm maternal at heart. That's why he granted me that blessing, I suppose." you explained, trying your hardest to recall the words your mother had spoken to you when you were just a little girl.

"Only if you become a mortal? How would you even do that?" Maxwell anxiously slid his hand into yours, and his heart filled with joy when you intertwined your fingers with his.

"If I exposed my true self in front of a large crowd of people then I could no longer be a goddess. Zeus would take away my powers and I'd never be able to return to Themyscira. I'd be normal, just like you."

He wanted to laugh. There was nothing about Max Lord that could be considered ‘normal’— but he opted to let your comment slide. He knew what you meant anyway. "Would you consider giving up your powers and becoming a mortal?"

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I would do it for love." you turned to face Maxwell, to look him in the eyes, but he was already looking at you— memorising your beautiful face. Everything about you was so perfect.

"Love." he repeated, validating to himself that he was indeed listening and not completely entranced by your beauty. His voice had dropped an octave and was no louder than a mere whisper. His eyes flicked down to your lips and he had never felt an urge so strong in his life to just kiss you. He remembered how soft your lips were earlier in the night when they'd gently brushed over his knuckles.

And now, you were looking at his lips too. They were pink and plush and— you'd never even kissed anyone before, let alone a man who was attractive as Maxwell Lord. From what you had learned about him, he was already so esteemed and had probably kissed dozens of girls in his lifetime. You on the other hand, were quite inexperienced. But that didn't mean you didn't want to learn.

You could hear his beating heart as you felt his chest rise and fall. He made sure that no piece of stray hair was in your face. He wanted to take in every detail. With a sudden air of confidence, Maxwell leaned in and nudged his nose against yours. Naturally, your eyes fluttered shut as his warm breath fanned over your skin. His hand dropped down to your waist and he gave your hip a gentle squeeze under the covers as he tilted his head and pressed his lips against yours.

It was magical. His lips moved perfectly against yours, like they were made for each other. Max closed his eyes and pressed his face further into yours, even using his tongue to teasingly lick a stripe over your lower lip. You felt your cheeks flush as an involuntary moan escaped your lips. As your mouth parted, Maxwell seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth… and it felt delightful. You wrapped a leg around his and tangled your fingers in his hair as he kissed you. You prayed that this moment would never end. His lips were sweet and you imagined they tasted vaguely of the honeyed whiskey he had been drinking earlier. His hand glided down to your thigh and you eventually pulled away from him with a gasp. He removed his hand from you.

"Too much?" he asked breathlessly, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your swollen lips.

You moved his hand back to its position on your thigh. "No- no," you whispered, shaking your head but unable to contain your smile. "It's just, I've never done anything like this before. I've never been kissed like this… or even touched… I've never even… you know."

"It's okay," Maxwell whispered, cupping your face. "We don't have to do anything you want to do."

"I want this." you confirmed, pulling your body on top of his and straddling him. Maxwell felt his cock twitch in his pants as you accidentally grinded over him, leaning in and reattaching your lips. The blanket was still draped over your shoulders but fuck, you were naked. You were naked and on top of him and you were kissing him. Maxwell was still practically fully clothed and he didn't want to remove the blanket from you but he did contemplate taking his own sweater off.

"You feel so good on top of me like this," he muttered against your lips. "Can I touch you?"

You hummed in response and grinded your hips over him again. "Please."

Maxwell brought his hands down to your breasts and began to fondle with them as you kissed him. You moaned and giggled as his thumb grazed over your puckered nipples, squeezing them gently now and again.

The make-out session must have lasted a good half an hour, and Maxwell swore it was the best he'd ever had. If he wasn't sure about his feelings before, this was only confirmation. He'd grown deeply in love with you.

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baeklooming-day · 3 years

Text

Meet me at the game arcade | Baekhyun

𓍢 Summary: There is this boy at the game arcade who is determined to win not only the plushie, but you together with it.

Masterlist

𓍢 Mini-playlist 💖 Moodboard by @kjikaila

𓍢 Genre: 90s!AU, Fluff, Cheeky Baek is back (you know the thing!!)

𓍢 Word Count: 6.6k

𓍢 A/N: Big credit to my beloved Tokyo, because I used to hang out at game arcades after school and often cute boys could be found there. 😇

Purple-ish, violet-ish, even blue-ish looking twinkling beams were soaking through the two lonely, candy floss bearing resemblance to fluffish clouds which appeared to cover the city beneath for a little while.

It wasn’t even summer anymore, but the sun seemed to be in a mood to let the light spill on everything beneath, letting little sparkles of vitamin D play on the walls of buildings, shining through the glass in windows, gleaming on all these colorful advertisements plastered around the district and making it seem as if the city was floating in the glinting sensation, warm light reflecting all possible kinds and shades of beautiful lilac color palettes.

Usually, you wouldn’t be the one to appreciate a similar weather very much, but given that the last two weeks had been nothing but wholly rainy and generally anything but pleasant in terms of weather outside, you found yourself being happy to be able to welcome the prickling sunlight on your skin.

You rested your chin on your knuckles, slowly closing your eyes and letting a lazy smile fall onto your scarlet tinted lips. You considered yourself lucky enough that you usually managed to arrive in class before all of your classmates, given that in that manner you could always pick the best seat without having to rush through the hallways to reach the classroom and dash to your desired desk.

And today, after all those gloomy days soaked in cold raindrops and weighing dust grey clouds, you found your seat to be even more than perfect.

The classroom wasn’t big, it was actually way smaller than you would like it to be, but as if to recompense that it had really large windows. And large windows meant a lot of sunlight to pour into the room through them, an obvious fact of which you couldn’t be more content about as you sat comfortably in the penultimate seat right beside one of those windows.

You had stopped paying attention to the lesson for what already felt like a whole thirty minutes ago, the dancing sunbeams only making you feel lazier and also kind of sleepy, completely switching off your usual concentration. You continued letting your face bathe in the pleasant sun rays which, now playfully peeking through the glass were gracing the monotonous classroom in cheerful gold shimmers. Your thoughts in the back of your mind started to slowly mix together with your teacher’s soft voice speaking about the last pages of your Japanese lecture in the background of which, right in that moment, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care about.

Your classmates were surprisingly quiet today, and in that current state you would probably soon drift away into your own personal dreamland even further, if not the little vibration coming from your phone placed under your hand on your desk.

For a split second you almost got a mini heart attack as the sudden text message made your pastel purple Nokia 3310 let out some rattling sounds as it moved ever so slightly on the wooden surface of your desk. You looked around a little bit startled, hoping that nobody noticed the brief faint noise.

Pulled back into reality, you quickly slid the device behind your equally purple colored pencil case, unblocking the screen with a click of one button and checking the received SMS. You felt a wide smile spreading on your lips as you read the text, it being from your friend announcing to you that her classes ended earlier today, and that she would be waiting for you to join her outside by the school entrance.

As you threw a quick glance at both the clocks on your screen and on the wall above the door, you found yourself seriously envying your friend, because it looked just as if she was always getting the cooler and chiller teachers who were actually able to understand that on the last lesson on Friday the kids weren’t the most likely to sit still and obediently follow the lesson anymore. Also given that today’s schedule, just like every other Friday which was simply laughable in your honest opinion, was absurdly long. Your lessons extended from eight in the morning until past three in the afternoon, which compared to the earlier weekdays you just refused to acknowledge.

You let out a deep sigh as another long minute had passed on the clock, mentally begging the time or whoever or whatever might be in charge of time management in the universe to quicken it up a bit.

Almost fifteen minutes left until the long awaited, two days freedom, also commonly known as the weekend. Just like everybody else, you were always impatiently waiting for the last lesson to be finally over and to let you hang out with some friends, and do other longed for fun activities for which you unfortunately didn’t have any time during the normal school week.

Until just now, you had always been included in the casual hangouts at the mall with your wide group of school friends, in going to the theater to check out the latest movie releases, or meeting up at your, by now beloved, cute small diner to eat some cherry cakes which quickly became popular around the area. But as of recently, the loud ringing sound on Fridays which announced the end of the lessons and beginning of the weekend, totally changed its meaning for you.

You weren’t as thrilled as you saw the large advertisement for the opening of a brand new game arcade for the first time on your way home one day, but as soon as you and your friend Miko decided to quickly see what it was all about and peeked inside on the big opening day, you already knew that you would visit and spend your coins at that place much more often than anyone could even imagine.

It was one of the branches belonging to SEGA group, it wasn’t any super large game arcade but at the same time it also wasn’t the smallest you had ever been in.

It was just ideal, and managed to balance perfectly the two things which you used to be crazy about the most when you were a little younger.

With that being said, the new game arcade was divided into more or less two sections, one being filled with all kinds of games starting with The Legend Of Zelda and ending on Pokémon, Super Mario, and many, many more in between. The second section was a little bit different, but not less interesting, perhaps only overlooking the fact that most of the time it tended to be a lot more nerve-wracking than you could ever expect from its harmless and pretty appearance.

The free space was filled with all kinds of plushie and toy automats, the whole room being so eye-catching and colorful that it was almost impossible to just pass by without giving it a proper look. It had literally everything you could ever dream of, soft and lovely teddy bears in every possible color, dolls, game characters, manga figures, even little charms which you could attach to your keys or your bag.

Truly a magical place flowing with milk and honey, if not the one unnerving fact that very often it was literally impossible to get the doll you wanted out of the automat at first try. Of course, it wasn’t such a big deal given that one turn costed exactly one hundred yen which wasn’t a handful of money after all. But if you calculated all your losses and all your future, probably failed as well, attempts together, you were very likely bound to leave at least around one thousand yen at the game arcade for literally nothing in return.

Sometimes you couldn’t hold yourself back from wondering that maybe that was the secret of the success of game arcades, and that the companies designed the automats like that on purpose to always drop the toy before it could even reach the hole and land safely in your hands.

There were times where you would loose even more than a thousand yen in an attempt to win the plushie you wanted, almost throwing your wallet against the glass as it became always much lighter and lighter with passing of each failed round.

There were times like this at the very beginning of that arcade fever, but after a while you found yourself becoming always better and better at fishing out all those dolls and bears. As the time flew by, you also found your bedroom nearly starting to drown in all those soft joys of every childhood.

But you didn’t really care.

And as soon as you got a notice that there was a new plushie automat to be about to be installed in the game arcade, you just knew that you needed to try it out immediately with the first better opportunity.

Which just came perfectly today.

You almost let out a squeak of joy as the bell finally rang, announcing the long awaited end of the last Friday’s lesson.

You quickly collected all your belongings from your desk and your seat, swinging your lilac bag over your shoulder and rushing out of the classroom in the direction of the stairs.

Luckily enough, you managed to dash through the corridor and down the stairs before the crowds of other students could block you.

As you reached the exit of the school building, you saw Miko standing right in front of it, her back turned at you. She was lightly swinging to the left and to the right, probably listening to some music on her brand new MP3 player she’d been talking about lately.

A little mischievous smile fell on your soft lips as a marvelous idea popped up in your head.

You took a few steps forward, careful to be quiet but, considering the fact that the music in her earphones was probably blasting, you didn’t exactly need to. You slowly pushed the glass door open, sneaking up on her and swiftly throwing your hands before her eyes to cover them.

„Holy freak!” Miko let out a startled scream, gaining a muffled laugh from you. „Who’s this? Y/N?” She started to turn her head to one side and to another, making you chuckle even more at the sight.

„It’s me. Mario.” You said, still covering her eyes and trying not to laugh out loud, seeing that you were visibly in a great mood today.

„And I’m Luigi. Can I get my vision back now, please?” She said, placing her hands on yours and pulling them away.

„Do you have enough ready money for the afternoon?” You asked, moving to stand in front of her.

„No duh, I’ve got exactly ten of one hundred yen coins just for the occasion.” She held up her blue wallet for you to see, the sound of loose coins bumping into each other audible as she gently shook it. „And I’m not going to spend a single yen more today, last weekend was fly but I became poorer of a whole six thousand.”

You sent her a scrutinizing look. „And you really think that it will be enough? You know, I’ve already told you before that they have a new automat and stuff.”

„Yes, you have, but still. If I don’t get the doll I want after two tries, I’m bouncing. And I will play Super Mario for the rest of the evening.”

„As if! I know you Miko, you will get just as addicted as every other time.” You let out a laugh, grabbing your friend’s hand and pulling her forward together with you.

„No, I’m telling you!”

The two of you continued to chatter along as you walked in the direction of the game arcade. It wasn’t that much of a long walk, knowing that it was located just a few streets away from your school.

The sun had yet quite an amount of time to start setting, but as you walked between the buildings decorated with bright and colorful advertisements of all possible kinds, it started to throw even more beams which reflected all those purple, blue, and yellow colors, surrounding you with a fairy like atmosphere in the afternoon hours.

„You know, last time as I was in the arcade I asked which dolls will the new automat have, and they told me that it would be supposed to have teddy bears, and-” You talked, being completely caught up in your own bubbling excitement about the new gain in the game arcade.

„Teddy bears?” Miko interrupted your flowing thoughts. „Y/N, you’ve already got like, a whole room of teddy bears. Not mentioning that last time you won not one, but TWO identical Totoro plushies and a Sailor Moon doll, too.” She rolled her eyes, giving you a questioning look. „You own a whole load of them. A whole storage! I’m actually asking myself if there is anything in the entire arcade what you haven’t got at home yet.”

„Well, I mean, that new automat is supposed to have a panda bear plushie and a plain white teddy bear, so, you know, I need to enrich my collection with these two.” You said, reaching your hand to your bag to pull out your phone.

You failed to notice the small group of boys, more or less around your age, walking past you and directing themselves straight into the game arcade building which finally came into your view.

You were just about to answer a text message from one of your other friends, when you were rapidly pulled back into reality with a not so gentle nudge to your side.

„What-” You turned your head to your left to look at Miko, question marks visible in your eyes as you were met with your friend’s amazed expression. „What? Why did you stop all of a sudden?”

„Y/N, I think you don’t see what I’m seeing. Look.” She pointed her finger at some point in the distance, a little blush coloring her cheeks.

You followed where she was pointing, finally noticing the group of boys from earlier which you failed to see.

There were four of them altogether, standing before the open arcade entrance and talking eagerly. Two of them were really tall, whilst the other two were rather short in their height, but all of them were wearing plain white tees. Your eye caught one of the shorter boys, who as the only one among them was wearing a blue bomber jacket with white prints. He had what you would call a baby face, his features were soft, or at least you could observe that much standing a few meters away from him. His hair was of a chocolate brown color, and as his voice reached your ears, you had to admit that it sounded truly so smooth like velvet.

You felt your own two cheeks warming up a little, a sensation which you didn’t like even a bit, as the boy locked eyes with you, his wide smile immediately disappearing from his lips only to be replaced by an expression of awe.

You stood there completely frozen in your spot, clenching your purple Nokia in your hand and feeling slightly flabbergasted by the whole sudden situation, not really knowing what was going on.

The last thing you saw before you were harshly pulled back into reality once again, was the other three boys looking questioningly at their friend who’s eyes were fixed on you, soon the entire group looking right at you.

And then you heard it, the loud ‘ooooooh’, ‘damn’, and ‘oh my god’ followed by the three of them lightly hitting the shoulders of their friend, starting to shake him and becoming even louder when he didn’t react, instead still looking at you.

When you finally snapped out of the weird trance, you quickly turned to your side to Miko who was now covering her mouth to prevent the invasive giggles from escaping.

„Oh snap.” You only said.

„Y/N, THIS, this is exactly what I’ve been talking about.” She said. „You are always so immersed in the games that you totally fail to notice all those cute boys being around!” She almost exclaimed the last words, stomping her both feet on the ground repeatedly, for some reason visibly excited.

„Well that was hella weird.” You said, still trying to process what had just happened. „Do you know them?”

„Um, well, I mean-” She started, now her being the one to grab your hand and pull you forward. „I keep my eyes always wide open, you know. And I just happened to see them at the game arcade the last time we were there. That hottie in a blue jacket seemed to have taken an instant liking to you back then already, but we bounced out too quickly for them to approach us.” She blabbered, instantly becoming a thousand times more cheerful than before.

The two of you were coming always nearer to the entrance of the arcade, and what followed always nearer to the group of boys who, now noticeably quieter, were still standing in their spot.

With your left hand still being held by Miko and your right hand still holding onto your phone, you tried your best to avoid the gaze of the said boy in a blue jacket as the two of you continued moving closer to the entrance.

What was his deal anyway?

„You know what Miko, did you take a good look at them when you said that you saw them before?” You asked your friend, feeling your cheeks heating up once again as you accidentally locked eyes with the boy one more time. „I mean, maybe from a close up they’ll be total monets.” You added, not even knowing what you were trying to convince yourself about, because as you came always closer you had to admit that the said group were even better looking from up close.

„Awe, Y/N, always the negatory. I’m sure they’re not some scrubs too, though. Besides, just look at them now.” She said, an ounce above a whisper. „They could totally be in a boy group with those looks.”

And unfortunately, you couldn’t deny, as with every following step you were getting a more detailed view, as well as you were feeling more and more being practically eaten by those two dazzling eyes which didn’t leave you even for a brief moment.

You just wanted to get inside the arcade and concentrate yourself on the new plushie automat, not on dealing with some random group of boys who apparently enjoyed staring at girls way too much for your liking.

That was right, as said it was too much for YOUR liking, but Miko didn’t seem to mind at all.

Even the whole opposite, she seemed to be having the time of her life, particularly when the other shorter boy with big cat-like eyes sent her a dazzling smile.

„Oh snap, oh snap, oh snap, did you see that, Y/N, I think I forgot how to breathe.” A scarlet blush spread on her cheeks, whilst she nervously squeezed your hand. „That guy is literally so handsome.”

„Girl, Miko-” You started gently, but as you looked at her frozen in her spot with literal hearts in her eyes, you knew she was already gone to make some lovey-dovey unthinkable scenarios in her head.

You talking wasn’t probably going to do much anyway, but you needed to snap her out of it.

You tried to gently pull her with you and finally enter the arcade. „Miko.”

Nothing.

„Miko-”

Still nothing, and as you threw a quick glance at the boys, you saw that the one with big eyes was continuing to unceremoniously smile at your friend, meanwhile she was returning all those candy smiles.

What was it, a smiling contest?

No, you thought, that was completely stupid.

„Miko, I swear-” You snapped your whole arm into the direction of the entrance to bring her attention back to the arcade a little too harshly, forgetting that you were still holding your phone in that hand.

In the result, your phone was sent flying out of your hand all the way across the sidewalk which separated the two of you from the group of boys, before you could do anything to stop it.

You watched in terror as it ended its small flight right in front of the boy in blue jacket, landing with a loud thud on the ground by his feet.

„MY NOKIAAAA!!” You yelled, not caring at all about the other people around who were now giving you weird or startled looks.

„Y/N-” Miko seemed to finally notice what was going on when you let go of her hand, and started to take large steps closer to the boy to collect your phone.

You could clearly see it as his face immediately lit up and his eyes rapidly fell on your purple Nokia laying on the ground, apparently an idea coming to his mind.

„For the love of-” You mumbled through your teeth, as you watched him bend over to pick up your item. „... all the snaps given.”

You let out a low sigh as you ruffled your silky hair with your hand, starting to finally walk into the direction of the boy, being extra careful not to accidentally lock eyes with him once more.

You had always been that exact type of person who wanted to avoid any unnecessary interaction with other people, in particular if you had other, significantly more important plans ahead of you and didn’t want to lose your time.

That could be an issue right now, you thought to yourself as with every step closer to him his smile grew wider, not even trying to conceal it.

„Um-” You started, as you stood right in front of his frolic face. „That would be mine.” You said, raising your finger up to point at your phone.

Your eyes quickly fell on the purple surface and the screen, trying to thoroughly inspect if any possible damages had been done by the fall.

The boy seemed to notice the visible concern im your eyes, letting out a soft, melodic chuckle whilst handing your Nokia to you. „I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” He said. „This model is practically indestructible. Lasts longer than most relationships.”

His remark made you raise one eyebrow at him, squinting your eyes ever so slightly whilst you retrieved your phone. „What a nice comparison. And you’ll be speaking out of experience, I assume?”

You were absolutely sure that your unpleasant comeback would make him immediately not wanting to continue to talk to you, but to your surprise you couldn’t be more wrong. Instead of a sign of dislike, you could make out a sparkle of fondness shining even brighter in his brown eyes.

Weird, you thought.

“No, I’m not.” The boy replied, smiling contentedly. “I was actually quietly hoping that mine would outlive any model of Nokia 3310.” He added, giving you a smile sweeter than the previous one.

In response, you merely granted him a brief look before taking a step away, intending to finally enter the arcade. “Good luck with that.”

Trying to completely conceal the awareness of his glowing presence still behind you, you quickened your pace, basically dashing through the open doors to the inside of the colorful arcade and not even bothering to wait for Miko anymore.

As soon as you went inside you were met with a lot of frolicsome lights and sparkles, the small alleyways between all sorts of games being flooded with light coming from the screens of game automats, each one of them showing the start menu of a different popular game on the lambent display.

It didn’t take you too long to find the longed for, newest, totally polished and even more so inviting plushie automat which has been continuously on your mind this whole time, basically calling out your name to you as soon as you finally came to a view of it.

It was lovely, appearing even more so enthralling to you in real life than as it did on the mere advertisements plastered around the arcade.

Without losing a single minute, you took your wallet out of your bag and took a large step closer to the automat, your eyes stopping on every plushie trying to decide which one to go for.

Finally, they stopped on a cute small panda bear which instead of being just plainly black and white, was purple and white.

That was the one.

You opened your wallet, taking one shining coin of one hundred yen worth.

Just as you were about to throw it into the automat, you were startled by a sudden familiar voice coming from right behind you.

“Hey home skillet, why did you run off like that?” Miko materialized herself next to your ducked down figure, leaning on the glass of the plushie automat.

You looked up at your friend, feeling a little guilty for doing so. “My bad? But I really didn’t want to talk to that dude in a blue jacket.” You murmured, bringing your attention back to the purple panda.

Miko scrunched her nose, letting out a loud sigh. “Why are you always rejecting all the sweet boys? He even picked up your phone for you, come on.” She said, before startling you again with a sudden squeak. “BUUUUT! Y/N-” She started, covering her mouth to prevent the next invasion of uncontrollable giggles from escaping, jumping up and down in her spot and causing her black soft locks to slide on her forehead. “ That hottie with those big eyes. Oh my god Y/N. I actually talked to him just now, and guess what he told me.” She paused for a brief moment, only to let out another squeak. “His favorite game is also Super Mario! And he asked me if I wanted to play it with him today, oh my god, Y/N.” Miko was breathing so quickly, that as you looked up at her once again, you started to become honestly worried if soon she would start to hyperventilate.

“And I assume you said yes?” You asked, but you already knew the answer anyway.

“Of course! I mean, did you see him? A model!” She answered.

“So you plan on leaving me all alone here?” You asked. “Are his friends still here?” You added, carefully peeking from behind the plushie automat you were still ducked down by.

Your eyes widened in terror as you sneaked a look and spotted the group walking down the aisle.

“I won’t leave you! But just let me have this one? You know how much I would love to get a proper date!” She replied, throwing longing looks in the direction of the boys. “And Y/N, if that blue hottie comes to talk to you, please be nice.” She added quickly.

“Miko, do you perhaps know something that I don’t know?”

“What? Noooooo, not at all, what makes you think that?”

You let out a small sigh, rolling your eyes at your friend. “Whatever.”

You brought your attention back to the display with all the plushies inside, finally inserting the coin into the automat and starting to try to fish out the purple panda bear.

You were still sensing a presence next to you, so thinking it was just Miko who hasn’t left yet, unbothered and completely oblivious, you continued to give all your concentration to the little plush bear you already almost had clasped.

Just as the bear was nearing to fall into the designed hole and right into your hands, the metal claws let it go in a trice, in effect the bear bouncing back, away from the hole.

Unbelievable.

A soft snicker reached your ear, so without even caring to turn your head you just rolled your eyes again. “Very funny Miko, you know that it usually never works at the first try very well yourself.” You said, taking out another one hundred yen coin to insert and try again.

“Sometimes it does.” Said a velvet like voice.

You immediately snapped your head to the left, your eyes widening one more time as you realized that it wasn’t Miko standing next to you, but the boy in a blue jacket.

You involuntarily squinted your eyes at him, looking up. “You again.”

He seemed to be completely immune to you not being the nicest, instead jumping straight into any normal conversation you would usually have with a friend.

Out of all people, and out of all days, why you and why today?

Guess you would never know.

“Your name is Y/N, right?” The boy asked. “Your friend with the black hair told me when we were still outside.” He continued, his melodic voice filling the space between the two of you, for some unexplainable reason making you kind of distracted and causing you to drop the purple panda once again, failing at the second attempt to win it.

You sent the boy a heavy glare. “And your name is...?”

“I’m Baekhyun.” He replied with a sweet smile.

You decided to ignore him, taking the already third coin out of your wallet and inserting it again.

“What are you about to get?” Came yet another soft question.

“The purple panda.” You replied briefly.

Baekhyun’s eyes left your figure for a transient while, to fall on the plushies inside the automat. “Well, guess what I would be about to get?” He said.

“On my nerves.” You murmured quietly, but loudly enough for him to hear.

You weren’t looking at him anymore so you obviously couldn’t have noticed it, but even when he received nothing but snarky replies from you, the boy was all smiles with little dazzles dancing in his brown eyes. “I actually hoped that I would get on your calendar.” He said, giving you a winsome smile as soon as you graced him with your attention again. “On a weekend when you’d be free... Or after school...” The cheekiness audible in his soft voice just seconds ago wasn’t as strong as it was anymore as he said these words.

In the result to his question, you scrunched your nose, looking up at him. “You don’t even know me. You’ve literally seen me one single time.” You said.

The moment you said that, you observed as the cheeky look fell back on his soft features. “Dante wrote forty two chapters of a whole opera for Beatrice after he saw her one time on the street, so I think I would be reasonably justified to ask you out like that.” He smiled at you in the most candy smile anyone could probably ever master.

What in the world?

“You know Dante? Are you into literature?” You asked, a little flabbergasted and surprised, knowing that most of the boys your age weren’t particularly interested in the art of similar old literary works.

That was definitely new.

“I like art in general.” Baekhyun said.

“So, how do you feel about art?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Baekhyun’s eyes seemed to have a whole million of sparkles dancing in them as he replied. “Well, I think you are really cool to talk to.”

Wait-

“What the freak man.” Was the only thing which you managed to say after you connected the dots of what he was really referring to.

This boy surely was having the time of his life right now.

You brought your attention back to the plushies, trying to suppress a muffled quiet scream which threatened to leave your lips because, even at the third try, the purple panda was dropped back into the soft pile of other plushies as if totally mocking you and your efforts to win it.

You aggressively grabbed the ziplock of your wallet, practically snatching a new one hundred yen coin and slamming it into the automat, determined to win it this time.

In that moment, it was a serious matter of life and death for you, and being completely focused on that one thing before you, you were also still completely oblivious to your surroundings.

If only you knew how your small act of chagrin to the automat and throwing the coin inside in a total state of fury made Baekhyun’s heart melt even more for you, thoughts of how cute you were flowing through his mind.

“How many more times are you going to try this?” He asked.

“You know, I’m actually really good at this. Today just doesn’t seem to be my best day.” You replied, without giving him one look.

The claws clasped around the purple panda once again, lifting it up and sliding slowly to the direction of the hole, through which you really hoped it would finally fall out this time.

“I already own a whole room of plushies and dolls I won in the arcade, so this should be no sweat.” You added.

“Well that’s phat.” Baekhyun said, his voice always sounding like a smooth velvet which, for some reason was becoming always more difficult to ignore for you.

“I know.” You said. “But I’m totally buggin’ right now.”

You watched the purple panda hanging just above the destined hole, being completely sure that you would finally win. You threw a content look at Baekhyun next to you, resting your elbows on the automat. “It’s already falling, you see? I’m da bomb. All that and a bag of chips-” You interrupted mid sentence, when to your downright disbelief the panda was let loose into the hole, only to somehow bounce out of it right back into the pile of other plushies, leaving you at the fourth failed attempt of winning. “You sick piece of-” You said through your clenched teeth, clutching your wallet in your hand and trying to stay calm.

You threw a murderous look at the automat, then glanced back at the wallet held in your hand before opening it again and taking out the fifth coin, throwing it into the automat without thinking twice.

You quickly guided the claws to grab the purple panda, but then again, as if to totally make fun of you, it was let dropped back into the pile. “Son of a SCONE.” You said, very lightly hitting your small fist on the glass.

You were brought back to reality by the same velvet voice which was distracting you just moments ago. “Y/N.”

“What.”

“You haven’t given me an answer yet.” Baekhyun said softly. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“No.” You replied.

“You are being so mean today.”

“I’m mean everyday.” You added, standing up from the position you were in this whole time. “You have a really unusual way of approaching, you know?”

“Well, everyone has their own ways. And everyone has their own idea of perfection.” Baekhyun said, looking right into your eyes. “Mine just happens to be you.”

You shot him a tired look. “What the freak.” You said. “Listen, um-”

“Do you know what bees make?” He suddenly interrupted you with this random question.

Without even thinking too much, you simply replied. “Honey?”

You watched as his eyes lit up again. “Yes, dear?”

You were left there completely done with the world as it was and speechless, just standing before him and looking at his smiling, glowing face, visibly happy with his own lines.

Why wouldn’t he just give up?

You didn’t even know anymore what to say to him, seeing that apparently he had a comeback line ready for each and every of your attempts to shove him away.

“You are impossible.” You said.

You observed as Baekhyun’s eyes quickly wandered to the plushie automat and as he bit his lip, another idea visibly coming to his mind. “Will you please say yes if I win that purple panda for you?” He asked, his brown eyes full of glinting hope.

“I would like to see you try. If I couldn’t win this, you won’t be able to either.” You replied.

“If you’re so sure about it, then just agree?” He said, a little smile still visible on his lips.

You crossed your arms on your chest, him instantly mirroring your gesture. “Fine. And if you fail, you will stop asking me out.” You said. “Three attempts.” You held up three fingers.

“Fine.” He said, holding up a shining one hundred yen coin before putting it into the automat.

He ducked down in the spot in which you were previously, laying his left arm on the free surface and lazily resting his chin on it, his right hand managing the little controller on the automat, effortlessly.

In complete and utter terror, you watched as the purple panda bear successfully fell into the hole right away, soon swiftly falling out of the automat straight into Baekhyun’s hands.

You couldn’t help it but let out a gasp of shock.

“No.” You whispered shaking your head, not believing that he just got it at the first try, because how probable could it even be?

“Yes.” Baekhyun held up the purple panda, flashing you the brightest, happiest smile you have seen on him that day. “I told you, sometimes it does work at the first try.”

You just stood there, not able to say a word, still looking at him in a complete disbelief.

Again, how probable could it be?

“I, um-” You really tried to say a full normal sentence, but it seemed like even the language decided to sabotage you today.

Before Baekhyun said anything else, he gently placed the panda in your hands, in the result his fingers softly brushing yours, may it be on purpose or just accidentally. “Please just say yes?”

As much as you despised this whole thing, you were a girl of your word, and you made a deal.

Which you obviously lost, now that you were holding the purple panda bear in your hands.

Even so, looking at Baekhyun’s dazzling brown eyes, you still wanted to give him the benefit of doubt, even though you were perfectly aware that it was pointless at this stage.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly interrupted you before you could say even one word. “You won’t regret it.” He added, a little faint plea visible in his eyes as they looked at you.

You felt one corner of your mouth slightly lifting in a half smile. “What if I will?” You asked, meeting his chocolate gaze.

“You won’t.” He quickly said. “Just give me a chance to win you over.”

He asked you for a chance, but deep down you started to feel that he already was winning you over with his impossible sweetness and persistence.

But that was something which he didn’t need to know right now, was it?

You held the panda plushie closer to yourself, burying your face in it for a brief moment to hide the bubblegum blush which was shamelessly spreading on your dewy cheeks totally against your own will.

“I like onigiri with umeboshi filling.” You said. “And dark mocha.”

A honey-dripping smile fell on Baekhyun’s lips as his chocolate eyes traveled across every feature on your face. “What an unusual pair.” He said, the smile never leaving his lips and eyes.

“If you want to date me, you need to be prepared for weird combos like that.” You said, facing away as you felt the blush becoming stronger, your entire cold barrier finally giving in into the charm of his smile.

“I’m thrilled to know more.” He grinned winsomely.

And who would think that when you left the game arcade, you would have gotten your plushie and a cute boy together with it?

Undisputedly not you.

But sometimes, sometimes the universe put things on your way, things which you would least expect to cherish the most.

Author’s End Note: Thank you for reading! Remember to REBLOG if you liked it! Also, I tried to build in some classic ‘90s phrases into dialogues, so let me know if I did well or not!! 💖 Maybe it won’t be the end of the ‘90s AU. 💜

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Note

I LIVE for your exophilia Bucky and Steve fics, Drider/spider Bucky is my LIFE, if you could do centaur, naga or mermaid, please. I just love this so much!

Okay, it was supposed to be a short request, but it had somehow evolved into a oneshot. Thank you for this awesome idea!

Blood in the water

Pairing: merman!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, attempted kidnapping, non-grapic depiction of violence.

Words: 2125.

_________________

You had never truly believed in the existence of fantastic creatures despite all those rumors about mermaids living in the Triskelion sea. Sure, at some point people thought they shared the Earth with centaurs, sirens, griffons, and all those divine beasts, but you lived in the era of rapid scientific progress, Internet, and space-based technologies. No one in the right state of mind believed in fairies and unicorns.

However, you did like this little town: there was something charming in its narrow streets and a hundred years old buildings, lovely hydrangeas in flowerpots standing outside of the houses and small family cafes here and there. It was a nice place to have a vacation, especially after a crazy year in a big city where streets were always full of people, regardless of time.

You rented a nice little cottage close to the seashore for a month and were now enjoying your morning coffee, sitting on a wide wooden windowsill. The sun was barely up, and you smiled, wrapping a blanket around your bare shoulders. It was such a beautiful morning when the sky was a lovely shade of pink, the sea so unusually quiet. There definitely was something magical in it.

Watching the sea with your window open, you inhaled its smell deeply, closing your eyes. When you opened them in a second, you suddenly saw something glowing far away from you, on a small rock surrounded by water. Your eyes grew wide - it was not something, it was someone. It was a living being. You just saw its enormously huge scaly tail when the creature slipped back into the sea as if it knew you were watching it.

Oh dear.

You immediately left your half-emptied cup on the windowsill and jumped down, hurrying to the door while keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. What was that? How huge was that fish? What could it even be? All those questions were making you speed up, and you rushed to the small pier right next to your cottage, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious creature again.

But once you were standing on the wooden boards barefoot, shivering from the sudden cool sea breeze, the waters were quiet just like before, not a sound coming from that direction. The creature had disappeared as fast as it emerged, and you were staring at the dark waters again, thinking of whether you saw that enormous fish at all or was it some trick of the light. Maybe you really watched too many fantasy movies on Netflix yesterday. Smiling at the though, you fixed the blanket, covering yourself some more, and inhaled the cool morning air deeply. Whether or not there was a huge fish, it wasn’t really important. You didn’t know how to swim anyway and wouldn’t get into the water far.

When you went to the town to have lunch, you did ask the elderly lady serving customers whether there was some peculiar type of marine animal living in the waters of Triskelion sea, but she just smiled at you and asked you not to come too close to the shore at night.

“It’s not good you live so far from the town,” she said quickly before moving to the other table, gathering empty dishes.

Did she mean it was unsafe to be out of the house at night? Was there like a gang gathering close to the sea or something? You nervously nodded to her, growing a bit concerned. Your landlord didn’t tell you anything about that.

Well, in case of emergency you could barricade the door and call 911. The phone worked perfectly, you thought while walking the streets, buying nice little souvenirs for your friends and colleagues. You actually bought a baseball bat just in case.

Hurrying home before it got dark, you clenched the big bag with a takeout. You asked the girl behind the counter about being on the shore at night, and she confirmed it wasn’t wise. Unfortunately, she didn’t specify, and you thought that speaking of that gang aloud wasn’t appropriate. The girl was probably scared.

Damn, and there you thought it was a perfect quiet place, ideal for a lonely young woman. Was it really better to leave before you got into any real trouble?

Locking the door and closing the windows, you huffed, irritated neither the agency nor your landlord mentioned this to you. It was unfair and even illegal to do business like that. Thinking whether to call your friends to ask for an advice, you sat in the kitchen, unpacking the amazing carbonara that was still warm and smelled heavenly. Well, it least the cafes here were absolutely awesome.

Once you finished your meal and were drinking tea with milk, still sitting in the kitchen - now you were a little afraid of sitting on the windowsill with an open window where anyone could see you - you suddenly heard some noise from the outside. It was a loud sound of fins crushing the water surface. Was it that odd giant fish again? Still, you were aware of danger of being outside late in the evening, so you simply stayed inside the house.

But then you heard someone screaming.

“Please, help!” The voice was pleading, and you stood up quickly, grabbing your bat. “HELP!”

The next moment you were running to the sea shore with a life preserver in one hand and a bat in the other. Someone was drowning in the sea, and you couldn’t fucking swim. Blood rushed to your head when you saw a man tangled in a large fishing net attached to the pierce, and you immediately run to him, dropping to your knees.

“Please! I can’t-” He was fighting the ties binding him, almost screaming in hysterics when you approached him. “I can’t breathe! HELP!”

In complete darkness when the only source of light was the moon shining high up into the sky, you were struggling to see how the man literally wrapped in the net, striking about in the water like a stranded fish. When you got close, throwing your hands to the stranger, he jumped at you right away, leaning closer and trying to climb to the pier. He almost made you fall into the water, but you managed to grab wooden pole with one hand and stand on your knees.

“I’m here! Wait, wait!” You were hurriedly grasping the net, seeing literally nothing in the dark. “I’ll help!”

You could hear the stranger crying, his huge figure shaking terribly, and rushed to tug on the ties, desperately trying to untangle him. You spent a few minutes like that before you had finally freed him, pulling the net up and throwing it on a wooden boards - it was so big you could literally cover the whole pier with it. How did it end up here?

Deadly tired from all the pulling, you gave the stranger your hand again to drag him to the pier, but suddenly he moved away from your arm. He was neither crying not screaming anymore, strangely silent, and you stared at his handsome face, still red from tears. How come? He was able to swim, wasn’t he? Breathing hard from all the struggle, you blinked, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

“Thank you,” the man finally said, coming closer again, and you realized there was something huge in the water right beneath him - you saw an enormous scale tail gleaming in the sea when the moonlight illuminated the waters.

It wasn’t some fish. It was the man’s tail. You saw the scales covering his hips when he got up, getting on the pier where you sat. Instinctively, you crawled back, both charmed and horrified with what you were seeing.

Dear god, he was a merman.

While you stared at him, opening your mouth as if it were you who was suffocating, the man smiled widely, watching you gawk at him. He wasn’t concerned at all, flashing his tail carelessly. “Thank you for saving me, human woman. You are truly fearless.”

Well, you weren’t so sure anymore, gazing at the unbearably handsome merman whose voice was so deep and silky it could drive any girl crazy. You were still scared of him though, knowing little whether he wanted to thank or hurt you - you even read some tales where mermaids were eager to eat sailors if they stumbled upon them in the sea.

But he looked so magnificent. His clear blue eyes were shining bright in the darkness, cheeks a lovely shade of pink, hair like a pure gold in the moonlight. His shoulders were wide, and you could see he was athletically built with his tufty, solid arms. Besides, how could a man with a smile as kind as his be a threat to you, the one who had saved him from the net? Reluctantly at first, you slowly got closer to him, watching his cheerful face. He was happy you weren’t afraid of him.

“What is your name?” He asked, suddenly getting closer so you ended up nose to nose with him.

The merman smelled like salt and seaweed, and when he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist, you whispered nervously, “Y/N.”

“I am Steven.” He grinned at you, rubbing the tip of your nose with his wet one. “I will be forever in your debt.”

“B-but how did you end up in the net? I’ve never heard of people fishing here.” You mumbled, your face flooding with embarrassment at being so close to the handsome stranger.

“Oh, they don’t fish. They try to catch us, the merfolk.”

His gaze turned sad as he touched your cheek with his nose and backed away, getting into water again while you crawled closer to him. So, that was it. That’s why they didn’t want you on the shore late in the evening - they were starting the mermaids hunt. God, how could they? Why did they try to harm these gorgeous creatures, unmistakably as intelligent as people were?

You felt sorry for the man, bending over to him as he stared into your face, still smiling. Gently cupping your cheeks with his wet palms, he rose up to give you a quick peck on the lips, apparently, having very little shame to do it to someone he only met a couple of minutes ago. Feeling terribly embarrassed, you thought that maybe it was merfolk’s way to thank someone and just nodded.

“Are you going to be okay, Steven?” You asked him, barely realizing you were leaning closer and closer to him while he kept getting down in the water.

“Yes.” He answered barely audible, kissing you again while gently touching your hair. “Come closer, love.”

You went even deeper, enchanted by his lovely voice.

“Closer.”

You didn’t realize the merman was luring you into the water until he pulled your face down, and your head ended up in the sea. As you opened your mouth, the water rushed inside it, and you were quickly becoming suffocated. But was scaring you more than drowning was the face of the most handsome man you had ever seen - the sclera became dark, making his eyes looking extraterrestrial, frightening. The next second you saw Steve opening his toothy mouth, and the world turned pitch black.

The pain shooting through your neck made you scream, gulping down salty sea water, and you fell down from the pier completely. You couldn’t breathe, kicking and fighting and struggling in merman’s arms until he let go of you, and you immediately grabbed the life preserver that fell into the water along with you. Keeping kicking furiously to keep Steve away, you clenched the wooden pole.

You didn’t know how you managed to pull up, getting back to the pier while merman was hissing something behind your back, trying to get closer to you. Despite you had no strength left, you were crawling to the shore on your knees, crying from the pain - blood was still seeping from your neck.

“You can’t get away from me!” Steve grinned wickedly, shouting to you. “I’ve marked you, love! You won’t have a mate other than me!”

Deaf to his shouts, you kept crawling until you felt the ground beneath your palms.

What did you know about the merfolk living in the Triskelion sea? Why didn’t you think it was them who were hunting people, luring innocent souls into the water with their pleas and crying? Of course, you didn’t know it was the mating season, and the mark Steve left on your neck would never fade away, scarring your gentle skin.

Why didn’t you leave the town, knowing you were in danger? Now you were bound to him, the cold, merciless creature who would stop at nothing to have you.

_______________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #captain america #requests #yandere

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 3 years

Text

Fallout of the century 🌑💔

Part 5

Read part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Here.

Warnings: None this is like pure fluffy goodness.

Word count: 2.8k

masterlist

This is the end. I hope you enjoyed this, i know i did.

I stood smoothing out the front of the dress in the full length mirror. Nikki was behind me adjusting the strings on the corset. “Is it too tight darling?” she asked me.

“It's perfect,” I told her, a smile on my face that had not faded at all since I woke up that morning.

“You look so pretty mummy,” Rosie exclaimed running towards me in her little gold dress.

“Thank you baby. Can I fix this?” I asked her, gesturing to the back of her dresses that she had sloppily tried to tie up. She nodded and turned around for me to fix it.

“Grandma, doesn't mummy look pretty?” she asked Nikki.

“She looks gorgeous, she does,” Nikki said, kissing her on the top of her head, and giving me a smile.

“We're ready,” my coworker and close friend Lindsey told me. I looked myself over in the mirror once more before heading to the garden.

We had chosen to have a small ceremony, just our families and our closest friends, which somehow still ended up being sixty plus people. The Hollands had gone out of there way decorating the outside of their house, transforming the garden into a fairy tale like scene, it looked straight out of a movie.

I watched as the bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way down the aisle. I looked up to see Tuwaine waiting for me, his arm ready to take mine as he led me down the aisle to the man I was about to marry.

“Thank you for doing this,” I whispered.

“Are you kidding? I am honored,” and with that we began to walk to the slightly crowded garden.

As soon as I stepped out of the door, my eyes met his. He stood tall, his hair freshly cut, but still curly on top of his head. The sun was shining just right, making his hair shine an even more vibrant hue of red than usual. He looked stunning in the black suite that he wore with the pop of a gold tie. He smiled at me, a smile I had seen so many times before, but it felt as though I was seeing it for the first time ever. The closer I got the more his features came into focus, his warm brown eyes held a shimmer of gold and his freckles that were scattered on his face seemed to make him look even more handsome. I glanced at his birthmark on the corner of his mouth that I had fallen in love with. I stopped about four feet away from him, My heart nearly stopping as I saw him, having to catch his breath as he looked me over.

He stepped forward grabbing my hand as I joined him on the little step the boys had built for today.

With my hand in his we stood side by side as Sam stood in front of us ready to officiate the special day.

“Hi,” Sam spoke, grabbing his little leather notebook from his pocket. “I'm a little nervous, so bare with me,” He mumbled. He glanced up to me and I gave him a comforting smile.

“Are you ready for this? Mrs.Holland?” Harry whispered in my ear while his twin scrambled to start the ceremony.

“As ready as I was the first time Mr.Holland,” I whispered back Squeezing his hand tightly.

“OK, We have gathered her today, well i mean i think we all know why we're here, am i right?” he asked lightheartedly.

There was a wave of laughs from behind where Harry and I stood and I could instantly see Sam relax.

“So when my brother and y/n asked me to do this, I was excited, until I started looking into it. Way too much effort, but regardless I did all that I had to, to make sure at the end of the day these to actually get married,” he winked at me, knowing something all the others didn't, before continuing. “Harry and Y/N are the kind of people who just clicked upon meeting, everything between them happened nearly effortlessly, and though there was a time when we were not sure we'd see this day, i think i speak for everyone when i say, i'm glad it's finally here,” Sam looked over to Tom who reached into his pocket, grabbing a folded up paper and handed it to Harry. “I'm going to let them share their vows, and then we will get to it,” Sam stepped back as Harry turned to face me. He unfolded the paper in his hand and looked up to my face, giving me one last smile.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I’m standing here today, in front of you not knowing what tomorrow holds, not knowing where we will end up in the years to come, but knowing whatever and wherever it is, i want to be by your side.” he took a deep breath as he crumpled the page and shoved it into his pocket, flashing me his boyish smile. “I've always known this day would come, nothing we ever went through made me think otherwise. In the end it would always be us, I'm just glad it was sooner than later, I'll love you everyday for the rest of my life, the good and bad days. And I can't wait forever with you,” He grabbed my hands, lifting one to his mouth and kissing it. I turned to look at Harrison who was standing directly behind me. He handed me the note cards and I turned back to Harry.

“Harry Robert Holland, where to begin? I feel Like I've loved you all my life. I've known we were made for each other since that day in the pub when you bought me a drink. I've always admired you, the love you give, the care you offer, the way you are with Rosie. I'm not entirely sure how I became so lucky to have you in my life, but here we are. Today, tomorrow, forever.” I turned back to Harrison giving him back the cards and then nodding at Sam, who quickly stepped back up.

“Alright, are you guys ready for this?” He asked us. We both nodded. “OK, Harry, are you ready to spend the rest of your days with Y/N?”

“I am,” Harry responded.

“And are you ready to spend the rest of your days putting up with my brother?” Harry swatted at Sam who jumped back laughing.

“Every day of my life,” I said, squeezing Harry's other hand.

“OK, then by the power vested in me, by a sketchy website I found on the internet, I now pronounce you married. You can kiss now.” And neither of us needed to be told twice. Harry pulled me into his arms, pushing our lips together in a deep passionate kiss. There were cheers from behind us that the intensity of the kiss drowned out. It was like no one was there, nothing mastered, except for us, and this moment.

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We sat at the table, enjoying watching everyone have a good time when Harrison stood up and started to clink his spoon to his glass.

“I'd like everyone's attention,” He started smiling at Harry and I “As the Man of Honor, I have prepared a rather lengthy and emotional speech. So, sit down and get the tissues ready,” there was a rumbling of laughter from everyone as he pulled out some note cards. “So, about ten years ago. A girl met a boy in a pub, and slowly they fell in love. The kind of love that changes you, and teaches you. The kind of love that is hard, and dirty, and not always beautiful. These two kids met at the young age of 18, never experiencing life before, and decided then and there, to experience it together. And it was a journey. These two, they absolutely destroyed each other,” Harrison glanced at us, to see us both shocked at his speech. “But it was a necessary destruction. There were mistakes made, secrets kept, and lives that had not been lived. They spent a total of two and half years apart before finding their way back to each other. Y/N traveled for a year, tending to the less fortunate, and living out a lifelong dream. While Harry became a dad to little Rosie Holland, and became one of the best men i have ever met. These two went through the fallout of the century, just to become even stronger in the end. I am blessed to be a part of their story. To have been there from the beginning, and seeing it through to, not the end, but the newest chapter. I love you both, and I wish you a lifetime of love and happiness, Y/N (peanut) Holland, and Harry Holland, congratulations.” The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as Harrison raised his glass before downing his glass of champagne. There was barely any time before Tom stood up, clinking his knife to his glass.

“I did not prepare a long emotional speech, but I do have a few things to say,” He patted Harry on the shoulder before pulling out a page, with a speech obviously written on it, causing me to erupt in a fit of laughter. “Okay, okay. Settle down everyone. I met y/n about a month before Harry. Sorry buddy,” He winked at his brother, who just groaned and shook his head. “And I knew there was something about her, and looking back, I realized how much she reminded me of my younger brother here. So it was no surprise when I started seeing her more, on my brother's arm out at the pubs. Which soon became family dinners, and game nights, and soon she became a part of our group, even went as far to steal my best friend Harrison from me, Not cool nutty, not cool. But things seemed to go so easily, and then after they broke up, it felt like a piece of our group chipped away, neither of them made any of us choose sides, but with such an ugly break up it became a little ugly. So when I tell you how relieved I was when these two got back together, I'm not exaggerating. I'm so glad to call you my sister, and I'm so glad for my brother to call you his wife. You two were made for each other, and I love you both.” The crowd started to cheer again at the close of Tom's speech, and it was time for Harry and I to speak.

Harry stood up and lifted his arms for everyone to be quiet. “I want to thank you all for coming today, um it is true, that this day has been a long time coming and the journey here was a long one. But it was worth every sleepless night, every fight, every little thing it took to get here, it was all worth it. I've known since the day I met this girl, I wanted to be her husband, and despite everything, that never changed. We were kids when we met, and we quickly became young and dumb in love, not realizing what forever meant, and now sitting here today, i wouldn't change a thing, because at the end of the day, i still got to marry her, no matter what stupid things i may have done, or not done. I love you so much, Peanut, and I'll never stop loving you, as long as I live.” I stood up, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss, in front of all our friends and families.

I let go of him and gave him a smile before turning to everyone in front of us, “I, um, we have a confession to make,” I looked to Harry who nodded, looking at me in awe. “We did not get married today, this was all a show that we put on, for us and for you,” There was a wave of gasps and ‘whats?’ from everyone. “I know, I know. I do have a very good explanation though,” I took a deep breath before continuing, “So as many of you know, or all of you, Harry has a little girl, Little Rosie. She's the sweetest little peanut I've ever laid my eyes on, and I've known her since the day she was born, and for the past three years, I have stepped up and into the role of her mom, since the biological one walked away and sighed her away. I have been there for every little thing since then, making sure she knew that she had me forever. I have kissed every boo boo, mended every broken heart over the silly things her five year old self gets upset over, and I have become so much more than just her dad's girlfriend. She knows that I didn't give birth to her, and she knows that she does have a mom out there somewhere, we have never hid that from her, and about seven months ago she had asked if I would be her mom. Which was an emotional thing for me, I was wrecked, like a blubbering, sobbing, snotty mess. So Harry and I started to talk about me potentially adopting her, and there were a few hoops we had to jump through before being able to do it. One of which was to be married. So about five and a half months ago we went to the court house and got married, and then started the adoption process. Which is also what influenced us to buy the house. So we have been married for almost six months.” I looked around at all the shocked faces, some seemed to be more accepting of the news than others. I had known that this was probably going to be the reaction to this news, so I wasn't surprised.

“You look nervous,” Harry said as we stood in the hallway of the courthouse.

“What if they don’t think I'm good enough to be her mom?” I blurted out, causing Harry to smile at me.

“Lovie, i don't care what the court says, you are Rosie’s mom, More so than Olivia ever was. You stepped up after Olivia left, before we had even considered getting back together, you taught me how to do her hair, and how to make her favorite foods, you babysat her countless times while I was at work late or had to run errands, with no expectation. Just because you loved her enough to be there, for her, for us.” he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my nose as the courtroom door opened.

“Case of Rosie Holland,” The man said. You stood straight up adjusting your skirt looking at Harry.

“Lets go get your name on that birth certificate, yeah?” He whispered as he led me into the room.

“We're sorry for misleading any of you,” Harry said, squeezing my side. “But we still wanted the ceremony, despite us already being married, and we wanted all of you here for the announcement,” He stopped and looked at me, raising his brows waiting for me to speak.

“As of three weeks ago, I am Officially Rosie Holland's mom,” I grabbed the amended birth certificate that had my name in the space where it said mother and handed it to Tom to hand to his mother.

“Well i think we could cheers to that,” Harrison announced “Let's get the bride and new mom a glass of champagne,”

“That's actually not the end of the announcement,” Harry spoke up. Causing everyone to grow quiet again. Harry reached over, placing one hand on your belly before continuing. “We thought Rosie could use a sibling.” There was an almost in sync gasp from everyone around us before the cheering began again. “Little Stanley Holland will be here in about six months,” I watched Tom as Harry said that, his eyes grew wide before glossing over.

“Really?” He choked out.

“Really, really,” I told him.

The night went on, everyone partied and enjoyed the food, ushering the two of you off at the end of the night to your honeymoon. we arrived home grabbing your pre-packed bags and heading for the airport to board your flight. The flight itself was fine, and by the time we landed in Hawaii I had been asleep most of the flight.

“Lovie, we're here,” Harry whispered, bringing me out of my sleep, it seemed with life growing inside my belly all i ever wanted to do was eat and sleep.

“I'm hungry,” I groaned as I got up from the seat. He led me from the plane and into the airport.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked me.

I stared at him for a minute before answering “A peanut butter sandwich,”

“Of course you do,” He laughed rubbing my barely swollen belly.

#harry holland #harrison osterfield #tom holland #harry holland fluff #Q

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