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#that’s the last of me spamming you with London stuff

baby-alien11 · 1 year

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Online haters (Y/N Ulrich Universe)

This idea came to me while I was at the gym suddenly thinking on the words that my classmates on elementary and intermedia school used to say to me (I was a victim of bullying and the school didn't do a thing, fortunately I switched schools in my last year of intermedia school), and I used that awful experience as inspiration

The next chapter will be posted on my birthday (is in may, I'm a taurus)

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @aonungsgirlfriend @ethanlandryluver

something feels off about this relationship

maybe this is for publicity

yeah, besides she isn't THAT pretty

she doesn't seem as in it as Jack does

she looks a little fake, don't get me wrong, she seems nice but...

maybe she is with him for fame

she's a nepo baby, you know how they are

That were some of the replies you saw on a tweet that appeared in your timeline during the night when you openned Twitter due to not be able to sleep, a part of you wanted to report the tweet for spam but the other wanted to keep reading the rest of the replies

That was the part that won

Reply after reply was more hurtful than the other, seeing people doubting your relationship with Jack and posting "proofs" just increased your sadness

The caption that made you burst into tears was a whole thread called "proofs that Y/N and Jack's relationship is fake"

Since you entered the world of social media at the age of thirteen, you knew that the hate comments were a daily thing, you saw it when you spend summers in the Riverdale set on how most of the cast commented having them or the way Melissa recieved them after Scream 5, but you didn't know how it felt

Until now...

Deciding that you've seen enough of that, you turn your phone off to get to sleep but you still couldn't because anytime you closed your eyes, the only thing you saw was all that tweets again and again

During the whole night you only played with baby dragon Jake while looking at your celling, noticing it was a new day when the door of your room was openned by your father

"Good morning, tornado", Skeet greeted entering the room to open the curtains, "You woke up early?"

"I couldn't sleep", you sighed sitting in your bed

"What? Why?", Skeet answered sitting in your bed, "What happened?"

Without saying a word, you took your phone to open Twitter and show him the tweets that you saved, for the next minutes you saw how your father's face scrunched in anger for the words on the screen

"How did you find these?", Skeet interrogate you returning the phone to you

"Last night after videocalling Jack, I couldn't sleep and I went into Instagram and then Twitter, and after scrolling for a while, they appeared in my timeline"

"You know, the people who write this kind of stuff, are jealous and they don't know what to do with their lives, so they just spread hate everywhere, and we don't listen to them or take them seriously, understood?"

"Yes dad, but I sill feel awful, why the sudden hate? All my life I've been your little shadow and I haven't done anything controversial or bad"

"I know, but people like to hate on people who are gainning relevance, and you kid, are on the way to become one of the best VFX make up artist in the industry"

"You think?"

"In the five classes that you already had, I can see awards in your future"

Feeling emotional, you hug your dad at what he responded in the same way tightening the hug

"Hey, today is my flight to go to the convention, but I don't want to leave you alone after this"

"My passport expired last week, mom lives in London, and Jakob and Naiia are travelling"

"Kid, let me find a solution, just get up from bed and go get some breakfast, listen to your old man"

Laughing for his last comment, you were about to get out of your bed your phone started to sound at the notifications of a few messages making you smile because you knew who was sending them

my champ

BABYYYYYYY

WAKE UP

IT'S A NEW BEAUTIFUL DAY

my beautiful girl

good morning love

are you already on the set??

my champ

since five in the morning

I can't believe it's snowing in the middle of april

I wish you were here

my beautiful girl

I wish I was there with you too

That's what I get for not checking my passport

my champ

hey, are you feeling well?

your texts feel a little off

For a moment you consider to tell him about the tweets but you didn't want to distract him from the filming of his new movie

my beautiful girl

yeah, it's just that I didn't slept too much

I had a little insomnia

my champ

you should sleep a little after getting breakfast

to feel better

my beautiful girl

definetely I'm going to take that advice

my champ

and if I have free time during that we could facetime

my beautiful girl

yes to everything

my champ

it's a date

Smiling for the conversation, both of you continued chatting until he was called to film

"Kid, pack a suitcase for four days", Skeet announced appearing in your door with his phone on hand

"What? Dad, my passport is expired"

"I already know that, you are going to stay in Anna's house"

"I thought she was with Jack on Canada", you frowned

"I talked to her, she said she needed to come back for work, so you are staying with her until I come back, now get up and pack your things"

Finnally getting up from bed, you change into some of you regular clothes with Jack's favorite pink hoodie on top, to start packing some clothes, personal stuff plus your laptop and the materials to keep practicing your VFX make up on you

Once your suitcase and backpack were ready, both of you went to the car that was waiting to take them to their destinies

Thankfully, Jack's house wasn't so far from yours so after a thirty minute drive, the car stopped in the driveway where Anna was already waiting in the entrance

After getting your luggage and saying goodbye to your dad, you walk towards the house meeting with Anna in the middle

"Hi angel", Anna greeted while hugging you, "Skeet told me you weren't feeling well, want to talk about it?"

"Hi Anna", you responded, "Yeah, I would like to"

When your things were inside Jack's room, you and Anna went to the kitchen where the both of you started to make breakfast

"So, what happenned?", Anna asked while the waffles were being cooked

"Some nasty tweets about me that I found last night", you sighed

Taking your phone out, you entered to Twitter and showed her the tweet with all the responses

"Honey, I don't want to read them because I know that everything they say is false", Anna said causing tears to start pooling in your eyes, "You are one of the most wonderful girls that I've ever known, and I'm glad that you are in mine and Jack's lifes, have you told him about this situation?"

"We talked earlier but I didn't told him, I know he's filming and I don't want to distract him, he's excited about this role"

"You'll have to tell him at some point"

"I know, it's just that I don't want to distract him"

"If you don't tell him, I will", Anna joked serving the waffles

Laughing for that phrase, you help to bring the rest of the things to the table for breakfast

After finishing breakfast and helping to clean the kitchen, you went to Jack's room to unpack some things and have the nap that he suggested early in the morning, including the facetime that both of you agreed to do

"There she is", Jack exclaimed making you smile, "Wait, is that my room?"

"Yeah, dad didn't want to left me alone while he's at the convention because I didn't felt good, so he talked to your mom and here I am"

"Is because you didn't slept all night?"

"Yeah, and I didn't slept for some things that I read", at that point you felt tears starting to fall out of your eyes which you tried to clean, "Some tweets about me, about us"

"Baby..."

"There's no death threats fortunately, but it still feels awful to read those things"

"You are none of the horrible things that people say on the internet, you are the sweetest and most gorgeous girl I've ever met, and I'm happy that we were the only minors during Scream 6", that phrase made you laugh, causing Jack to feel proud for getting a smile from you, "Don't let those type of comments get to you, they don't know how you are, they don't know you how the people who love you does, like I love you"

"I love you too", you smiled

Seeing how your eyes were closing due to the lack of sleep, Jack convinced you to take the nap he suggested, staying in the videocall the whole time, even reading a fairy tale with fun voices causing you to laugh loud, until during the second story you finnaly managed to fall asleep

When Jack noticed that you were asleep, he took a screenshot because he tough you looked cute sleeping while hugging baby dragon Jake, before hanging up to enter Instagram and post something about the theme

yn.ulrich, masonthegooding, misstrinitybliss and 156, 530 more

jackchampion I remember the first time I saw Y/N, it was during the welcome reunion before fimlimg Scream VI, we were the only "kids" in there and we started talking, at that moment I realised that she was chaotic, good soul and heart, the purest vibes that I ever felt, kind, humble, gorgeous, cares about every living being, intelligent, creative and much more adjectives that aren't enough to describe how wonderful she is

Seeing the girl you love crying over nasty tweets about her and about our relationship was heartbreaking, she doesn't deserve any of that, she doesn't bother anyone, she doesn't mess with anyone, nobody should suffer things like this because some of you think things that are completely false

So, pelase, if you are one of the people who posted those tweets or responded to them, delete it, because you are messing with the mental health of someone I love

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#baby alien creations #jack champion imagine #jack champion x you #jack champion scream #jack champion x reader #jack champion #y/n ulrich universe #skeet ulrich #ethan landry x fem!reader #jack champion angst #jack champion comfort

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thatmissfit · 1 year

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Day 37 - lando.jpg

Waking up to the darkness of my room only illuminated by my phone’s alarm going off for the second time. All I can think about is how good of a time my friends and I had on our last night in Mexico. Stretching my whole body out like a starfish and rubbing my eyes at the crust that filled them in the night, sometimes I wish I didn’t have to wake up early. But being in this job for a couple of years now I quickly get ready while barely opening my eyes but I do make sure my hair isn’t looking fluffed out. When I get there my fellow flight attendant is waiting by the British Airways check-in counter.

“What a night, babe,” Kira says exaggerating her words with a slight dreaminess in her voice.

“Don’t I know it? I’m definitely coming back here for vacation.” She hands me one of the two coffees sitting on top of the counter. Let me tell you something, anyone who brings me a drink or snack is in my better books.

“Here’s your fuel for the day, four sugars, four milks just the way you like it.” The aroma of the drink invades my senses as she hands it to me and I take a small sip.

“You know me too well,” I say with a loopy smile savouring the smooth creaminess of one of my favourite drinks. We walk towards our gate catching up on last night's activities with the other members of the crew before flying back to London.

Even though Mexico was amazing I’m ready to be home, sleeping in my own bed. Typical flight things go on such as greeting the passengers, baggage load up and as the flight goes on taking naps because everyone was somewhat tired from last night. Finally, we start the landing procedures and all the passengers load out, one little more slowly than the rest.

He comes up to me and asks me, “do you watch F1?” Confused by the randomness of the question by this handsome stranger I laugh heartily and respond with, “is that some new pickup line people are using now?”

“Nah, it’s not like,” he scratches the back of his head and continues with, “I’m sorry for being weird but I was wondering if I could take a picture of you and maybe any other flight attendants?”

“Now what a strange request from a complete stranger.” Realizing his honestly, strange request to a stranger, even though she is stunning still might be weird. But he wants a funny picture for the fans and maybe a little for himself.

“Remember how I mentioned F1, I happen to be a driver…for McLaren actually,” he reaches his hand out to shake mine. “The name’s Lando Norris.”

Lando Norris, the perfect name for this now-named stranger. Just repeating the name in my head and shaking his hand gives me butterflies in my stomach. “I’m y/n,” I turn on my heel to gesture to the woman behind me, “and this is Kira.”

Grinning widely, Lando now can put a name to this beautiful woman. “So now that we’re not strangers, how about a picture? It’s for my spam account, I try to post daily and I think you’re what I need-.” His eyes widen, realizing what he just said and quickly tries to recover from what would seem like flirting.

“What the fans need, I mean”

Slightly smirking at him I say, “I’m down.” Then looking towards Kira to see if she wants to as well.

“I’m not trying to get a hit on my record, you do you babes. ” I didn’t even think about what might happen if our boss found out what happened. But honestly, I don’t think it’d be bad and who even says that British Airways would actually see this?

“Besides you’re the one who’s needed,” right after she walks away probably to gather her stuff.

I look back to Lando and instantly knowing how I should pose for this. If this guy is really an F1 driver then he’s probably got tons of fans so if I’m doing this then I want to look good, maybe more for his sake.

“Okay then, I’m gonna need some help with what I’m trying to do.”

So Lando and I walk several rows down to what I and the crew thinks is the strongest overhead baggage holder. I gesture for Lando to crouch down and help spring me up so I can climb inside. Afterwards, settling into a comfortable position and smiling down at him I ask, “so how do I look?”

“Beautiful,” and you could tell by the glimmer in his eye that he meant it and wasn’t embarrassed.

I don’t take less than a beat to respond with, “just promise me, you’ll actually post this”

“With the effort we just put in I will. Just let me just get your insta after.”

Later that night when I got to my apartment I get several pings signifying my phone connecting to wifi. I drop my bags onto the floor as I plop down on the couch with an exhausting huff. Unlocking my phone I see a new follow from lando.jpg, smiling softly I follow him back and a few minutes later I see his new post.

Liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 324,544 others

lando.jpg Day 37. I promised I’d post her

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british_airways These are your best yet 📸

f1fan all the beautiful people are british, this shit isn’t fair

landolove nice shot! Be my photographer

y/username this just made my day 😊

lando.jpg glad to be of service 🫡

Just as I closed my phone I get another ping from Instagram; seeing it was a dm from Lando I get intrigued as he already responded to my comment. I open it to read:

You seemed really cool not to mention gorgeous, so I was wondering if you’re free this week for dinner?

Smiling hard at my phone I send back, “How’s Friday sound?”

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #lando x reader #lando norris #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine

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straws-and-stats · 2 years

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Rusty Quill Gaming Stats! (Part 3)

[part 1] [part 2]

As a tribute to the crew who made the show so special, I'd like to end the stats by taking a look at a statistically interesting tidbit for each of the 9 characters featured in the book.

Here goes:

SASHA - In the table below, I recorded when the party arrived in each location and compared that to when Sasha used the skill Knowledge (Local) for the first time in that location. Sasha acclimated to location changes quickly, using Knowledge (Local) within an average of 2.5 episodes after arriving somewhere new.

ZOLF - Since Zolf did the bulk of the party's healing across the campaign, below is a bar chart containing all 27 of his heal checks across his days as both cleric of Poseidon and cleric of hope. Overall, he does exceedingly well at it, which is part of why he healed the party for the most points.

BERTIE - Despite his insistence on his own greatness, Bertie was largely statistically uninteresting. However, as seen in the table below which contains stats on the saving throws in the campaign for character, he rolled the most saves per capita, averaging nearly 1 save per episode. This is likely due to a combination of James antagonizing Alex & Bertie antagonizing everyone.

GRIZZOP - I have zero idea how Ben pulled this off, but the spread of nat 1s and nat 20s for Grizzop is ridiculously beautiful. The tables below contain information on the crits for skill checks, saves, and attacks, as well as a combined total for all three metrics. Skill check & save crits were perfectly balanced as all crits should be, and there was only a 3 crit disparity in attacks. Plus, the total number of natural 1s and natural 20s was just about 10%. This is incredibly close to what you would expect to see using d20s in an ideal system, which our world patently isn’t, so wow!

HAMID - You might have trouble remembering, but Hamid used a little spell called "fireball" once or twice amidst other firey attacks. Here's a nice bar chart comparing just Hamid's fire damage, which was 71% of his total damage dealt, to everyone else's total damage. Cel is the only one whose total damage just barely eeks out Hamid’s fire damage, and that only happened in the last 3 episodes of the campaign!

AZU - A bar chart of Azu’s Knowledge (Religion) rolls. Of the 16 rolls, 3 were natural 1s, which had a 3.6% or 1 in 28 chance of happening. Understandable it did, though, Azu had better things to be doing than paying attention in seminary...

CEL - From Cel’s 28 Knowledge (Engineering) rolls in the bar chart below, we can see that they really know their stuff! Nothing was below a 12, and a decent portion of rolls hovered around 30.

WILDE - And for my next trick, I shall perform the most difficult of statistician's techniques I toiled for years to perfect: glaring in the vague direction of London and spamming memes.

(thanks to serhawke (@cityelf) for the Dragon!Alex Dice Hoarder doodle)

SKRAAK - A bar char of Skraak’s 8 stealth rolls. These checks themselves rolled a natural 20 on stealth. They look deceptively poor until you remember to look at the scaling on the left (how are none of these values below 25?!?!).

And now, weary, my labours completed, I shall impart upon you all one last tidbit:

WHY SKILL CHECKS PER MINUTE (SCPM) IS THE SUPERIOR UNIT FOR CAMPAIGN ANALYSIS

So I’m sure you all can hear the voice of my PhD supervisor in the background shouting “Straw, skill checks per minute (scpm) is an utterly meaningless measurement for evaluating episode content across a large campaign since the small amount of interesting information it could give you is in a format that is difficult for humans to conceptualize, what could you possibly use this for? What are you even trying to say with this unit, Straw?!”

And, well, to an extend, he (and literally all of us who are thinking this) would be correct. However, and hear me out on this:

- You can pronounce scpm as “skip-uhm” and that’s just the kobold’s knees - Anything above 1 or really close to 0 is an obvious outlier and should be easy to spot in the mass of data. Sure, you could find them just as easily in other formats, but this range is fun and perky. -It’s just a really neat unit and you can pry it from my cold, dead claws.

In all seriousness, to all who worked on RQG - thank you. If not for you, we would not have had this fun sandbox of numbers to play with, nor this wonderful adventure to all embark on together.

Thank you.

If you liked this post, friendly reminder to check out “LOLOMG - A Performance Review by Oscar Wilde”! It contains more stats, and elaborate maths joke I made with “loads of hitpoints” as the punch line, and tons of really cool art, some tailoring notes for each character, and really funny text ghostwritten by Oscar Wilde from my friends! My friends did such a good job, y’all! Seriously, go check it out!

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permanentcrossfics · 4 years

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Blurred Lines: Until They Met Again // h.s.

Italics sorted (someone tell me why Google Docs doesn’t love me like Microsoft Word did by letting me copy italics?)! Happy reading, all. See you next time x

“So, m’going to be back in New York soon.” Again, you said nothing, and after a beat he continued. “Just for a night or so — I’ll be flying into Philadelphia and then out to LA for some work stuff.”

“Philadelphia to New York to LA?” you asked.

“London to Philadelphia and Philadelphia to LA.”

“So—” Bless whatever and whoever it was that’d sicked the cat on you to catch your tongue before you could ask him why he was coming to New York if he was flying into and out of Philadelphia. “That’ll be nice.”

He cleared his throat again and you dropped your phone from your ear to take a deep breath, suddenly hot.

“Yeah, so,” he began, “I was thinkin’, y’know. If you’re free or you’d like to….”

You’d like to laugh, because this whole thing was wildly fucking funny. Harry Styles was dialing you for a booty call after a one night stand from months ago. Harry Styles was going to detour into the city for one night just for you, and it wasn’t because you’d had such riveting conversation last time.

“When?” Your fingers twitched at your side.

“When’s good for you?”

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad // Read the extended ending only on Patreon

So, the truth was: you’d had sex with Harry Styles and forgotten all about him.

No — seriously. You’d had sex with Harry Styles and forgotten all about him.

Honestly, it was all more like a fever dream than anything. It’d happened to you — with you — and even you didn’t buy it. Because why would Harry Styles go to a hole in the wall burger place in the middle of New York City? Didn’t he have people to see at much nicer places with way better food? Especially after one of his own concerts, with people wanting to celebrate him?

And the sex…. It wasn’t even the night of that made your toes curl the most. The morning after, in the forty or so minutes it took room service to get to your hotel room? He’d fucked like his life depended on it. You’d been on your belly, and he’d been in it, skin slapping and both of you wheezing and sputtering your ways to the end because in the morning hours, they might care. In the morning, there might be someone who could recognize his voice or who would wonder if you cried out his name — you weren’t the only one who’d grabbed a hotel for the show, after all. Remembering the low, rumbling groan that’d echoed in his throat as he pulsed inside you and pushed his hips just so against you made you clench if you thought about thinking about it.

He’d left, you’d left, and you hadn’t told a single soul — not your friends, not your Instagram, and definitely not your mother. Not because he’d asked you not to, or because you couldn’t, but because it was the right thing to do. Only the worst of people had busy fingers and thumbs to take fishing selfies and post stories that created more talk than their mouths ever could. And honestly? It was easier to pretend it hadn’t happened, because that was absurd. The whole of it from top to bottom was the most hysterical insanity, and if you’d read it in a blind item column, you’d laugh your way around the world and fall off if it was flat.

(But it wasn’t flat, and as it was, you’d go round and round in circles, and where you’d stop, nobody would know.)

So, you had to forget all about him. And it’d worked, too. The end of June bled almost indiscernibly with the beginning of July, the blazing sun of which made all but the most touristy of tourists want to crawl underground. August brought enough relief to make you throw your windows open and lie naked on your bed, hoping a breeze would blow through, but it wasn’t until September you knew peace.

And then you’d picked up the phone.

It was an unknown number, and you were a 21st century person who routinely ignored any call from any number they didn’t know (and, sometimes, the ones they did). Maybe you knew — maybe that was why, despite your hiss of annoyance, you slid your thumb on the screen. “Hello?” Clipped in anticipation of either a robotic voice or a sales pitch, you barely held the phone to your ear, poised and at the ready to hang up as quickly as you’d picked up. You leaned across your sofa to grab the remote you’d thrown onto the cushions at the opposite end at the start of the film you’d put on.

“Hey, it’s uh—” The owner of the voice on the other end cleared its throat, but you were already frozen, tense and in shock, prickles erupting on your scalp and up your arms. You didn’t need him to say who he was. Even as quietly as he was speaking, the cadence and lilt were familiar to you anywhere. As was the smile you could hear in his voice. “It’s Harry.”

You jammed your thumb on the pause button several times until it finally took.

“Hi.” Flat, dull, and totally uninterested, which was not true or accurate. “Hi,” you repeated breathlessly, hoping he could hear the difference. “Hi, I didn’t— sorry. I thought it might be a spam….” You took a deep breath. He didn’t care. Hell, you didn’t care. “How are you?”

Harry’s cough sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “M’good,” he said. “Y’know, m’doin’ well, just… keeping busy. Working.”

You hummed but otherwise stayed silent, waiting. This wasn’t exactly a phone call you got any day and every day, and you doubted he was calling to check in with you.

“Philadelphia to New York to LA?” you asked.

“London to Philadelphia and Philadelphia to LA.”

He cleared his throat again and you dropped your phone from your ear to take a deep breath, suddenly hot.

“Yeah, so,” he began, “I was thinkin’, y’know. If you’re free or you’d like to….”

“When?” Your fingers twitched at your side.

“When’s good for you?”

For a moment, everything went white with the headrush from the overwhelming power flooding you. He was waiting on you — fares and change fees probably didn’t matter to him, if he paid much for anything at all with how many airline miles he’d probably racked up in his life.

“Next Friday?” you asked. You’d need a full two days to recover from the shock alone. “If that’s good for you.”

“Should be,” he said. “I’ll let you know.”

You smirked slightly. Trying to regain a little control? “Sounds good,” you murmured, fingernails digging into your knee. “If not this time then another time, maybe.”

Needless to say when he texted you ten minutes after hanging up, Friday worked perfectly.

You didn’t hear from him again until closer to the date. Part of you was wondering if he’d forgotten, but when he asked you on Thursday if you were still on, you stared at his very formal message for a good fifteen seconds just… absorbing the fact that he was coming into town just to see you.

To have sex with you.

He wanted to meet for dinner first — God, did you have to? It made the whole thing so much more… you both knew you were winding up naked at the end of the night, anyway. When you looked up the restaurant, you just about died right there on your sofa. It was, in a word, expensive. The type of expensive that didn’t have the prices listed online but that Yelp was all too happy to spill. Stress mounted in you and you blinked in the dim blue light of your computer, shellshocked, scrolling through the reviews with your hand pressed tightly to your cheek.

It was a drop in the bucket, maybe, but he didn’t have to do this. He knew that, didn’t he?

More than once you wrote out a message to cancel — you didn’t feel well, a work thing came up that you couldn’t get out of, someone from somewhere was flying into town and you had to see them. Every time, though, you deleted it all. For months, you hadn’t thought about him, but now… you wanted to see him. Badly. You wanted to see if it was as good and normal as the first time. If it crashed and burned, fine, but at least you’d know and wouldn’t wonder what would happen if you got to see him again.

Dinner was late that Friday night. He’d asked if you were ok with that, and while part of you wanted to rip the bandaid off, the other part knew — or imagined to know — he had his reasons, especially when the name he told you to give when you got there wasn’t his. Suddenly, it clicked — people could see you and him, together, and he was trying to take precautions to avoid that as much as possible. Maybe for your sake as much as his.

The inside of the restaurant was dark, and you gave the name as discreetly as you could, trying not to fall right over from how your nervous knees were knocking together. Each step through the maze of tables full of diners clinking wine glasses, sharing pizzas, and cutting into massive steaks that were bigger than the plates they were on made you a little more nauseous, and you were seconds away from turning around and bolting on jellied legs when there he was. Alone, huddled behind a plant in a dark corner that was more secluded than the rest, with a basket of bread in front of him along with a bowl of butter and a bottle of olive oil. He was typing on his phone when he looked up and did a double take with your wave and feeble smile.

“Hi.”

Harry stood slightly and only sat down after you’d done the same in the chair that was pulled out for you next to his — albeit too clumsily and too soon.

“It’s good t’see you,” Harry said, quietly and warmly but still audible over the clang of the dining room.

“You too.” You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. You didn’t remember eye contact being this intimidating with him — you’d had sex with him and managed it better, not to mention the conversation and shameless way you’d flirted with him during the show in a way that would show up any seventies groupie. “Good trip?”

You should take your coat off. You should put your purse somewhere, and you should maybe try not to look like you had a stick up your ass, but all the common sense, human nature things that you’d usually do without thinking suddenly took a great deal of effort to remember.

“It was ok, yeah,” he said with a shrug as you gingerly set your bag down and tried to get out of your jacket without hitting him in the arm. “Here, let me….”

Harry stood and hooked his fingers into your jacket and pulled it down your arms to drape it over the back of your chair.

“Thank you,” you said, still hot despite shedding a layer. “How’ve you been since…?”

Since we last had sex?

“Good!” he said. “Good, y’know… busy, but good. Getting some different things done.”

“Anything I can know about?” you asked, managing a smirk at last.

A mistake, because he returned it, and his looked better. “Not yet,” he said. “Couple of things might come out soon.”

You held his gaze a fraction of a second too long, and you felt its impact. Clearing his throat, Harry picked up the menu card in front of him. He looked like he was fighting a smile, and there was a very faint flush in his cheeks. “So, the ah, linguine in vodka sauce is very good and there’s a vegan version if that’s somethin’ you’re interested in.” He flipped it over. “And the affogato—” You bit your lip to contain a smile of your own, the flare of an attempted Italian accent over his Manchester accent cutting through influences from London and America alike comical in a way it shouldn’t be— “is nice if you don’t have to be up in the morning.”

Before you could think about it, you said, “Sounds great.” Harry looked at you from the corner of his eye, mouth twitching, and coughed into his fist to hide it. Jesus — could you say or do anything that didn’t make you seem a sort of way? “Is there wine?”

No, apparently, you couldn’t.

He nodded, lips still quivering annoyingly. “Ordered us a bottle — hope that’s ok, it’s….” He gestured just as a waiter approached with it.

“That’s good,” you said.

“Sure?”

You nodded and he gave his own to the waiter who busied himself with uncorking the bottle and pouring you each a glass. Harry held his, hovering in midair when you picked yours up.

“Oh—” Belatedly, you clinked yours with his before taking two deep sips. He didn’t even try to hide his laughter, then, and his eyes crinkled over the rim of his glass.

“So,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

Since you last had sex.

“Well,” you said, running your finger over your glass. “Working, mostly.”

“What is it you do?”

You stared, but his green eyes were wide and endless waiting for your answer. Nowhere on his face was a trace of irony or disinterest — he’d asked because he genuinely wanted to know. “I—” You stammered a bit before getting it out and he nodded, a flicker of recognition passing over his features.

“Tell me about it.” Just as authentic and sincere.

“It’s… I mean….”

With some coaxing from him, he dragged the details out of you — for how long, how did you get into it, was it what you’d always wanted to do, did you like it, what were the hard parts, did you think he could do that if he put his mind to it. And, eventually, you stopped feeling like your teeth were being pulled, whether in thanks to the wine, the pasta, or his charm — charm you’d known about but that was lightyears worse when it was directed right at you in the corner of a restaurant with your knees touching under the table — you couldn’t tell. He spoke about himself, too, and every now and then while listening to his slow drawl, it was hard to connect the fact that the voice speaking owned these stories. It was like you were eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation with him and being told things you shouldn’t know and had no right to know, but it was he, himself, and he was telling you of his own accord.

“Would you like dessert?” he asked when your plates were cleared.

“We could,” you said. “If you’d like — the affogato?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Not planning to get any sleep tonight?”

The bottle of wine had been described as bold, and apparently you’d absorbed some of that along with the alcohol. “You tell me.”

Harry pressed his lips together, rolling them thoughtfully as you smiled at him as the waiter approached, ignoring your racing heart to hold his gaze.

“Will there be anything else tonight?”

His ball, his call.

With only a quick glance to the waiter, he said, “One affogato to share, please.” He turned to you again. “And the check,” he added without breaking eye contact.

***

The hotel was intimidating — not somewhere you could ever stay on your own, and, for that reason, not a name you recognized, but you knew by the name emblazoned on the carpet outside the doors that it was the sort of hotel you should know. Hand on your elbow, Harry nodded and greeted the doorman with warmth and enthusiasm acting as the smoke and mirrors to allow you to slip into the lobby ahead of him. You paused, watching him through the glass, and seconds later he was through the door after you.

“This way,” he said, eyes darting to the elevator bank.

“Nice place,” you said as he waved the back of his wallet over a black magnetic pad attached to a column before pushing the call button.

“You like it?” he asked, watching the floor numbers above the elevators. He gently took your elbow again and pulled you towards one descending faster than the others. When the doors opened, it was empty, and you both got on with him mashing the close button until the doors rattled shut and locked you both in with an almost eerie silence.

“Thank you,” you said. “Again. For dinner — and dessert. You really didn’t have to.”

Harry pressed his floor, but his smirk was warmer and his eyes softer than they had been since you’d both left the restaurant and gotten into his car. The jittery, tingling sensation in your hands and belly had nothing to do with the espresso from dessert.

“Thank you for coming….” Flames surged in you, up through your torso and over your chest and neck, and you held your breath as his cheek dimpled, the pointed phrase lingering between you. “To dinner,” he added, grinning wider as if he’d displayed some revolutionary wit instead of the most basic— “You don’t have to either, you know.”

He was still smiling, but it was impossible to miss his pointed message acknowledging the power imbalance between you. You didn’t have to do this, dinner or no dinner, and as much as you knew that, it seemed he needed you to know he knew that, too.

“I know,” you said, voice catching in your throat. “You’re welcome,” you added with a quirk of your mouth, holding eye contact with him as if your knees weren’t quaking.

The doors opened and you followed him into the hallway, but he came to an almost immediate stop in front of a door he again waved his wallet over. “After you,” he said, holding it open. On purpose, you were sure, because he looked smug when you squeezed by him, chest-to-chest.

Oh, wow.

It was a suite — you were pretty sure that was the only way something this huge could be classified. There was a king-sized bed off to one side, with an overstuffed armchair and a luggage rack with his suitcase on it, and to the other there was a sitting area with a sofa, more chairs, and a coffee table. Beyond it, a chandelier hung over full dining table surrounded with chairs, and a closed laptop with a couple of books sat on top of it with the cord stretched to an outlet. Combined, all of it was bigger than your entire apartment. “Hotel room’s better than mine,” you mumbled, looking around from corner to corner, floor to ceiling.

Harry laughed and strolled past you, gesturing towards the sofa. “Can make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’m just going to pop in there for a bit,” he said, pointing to a door. “I’ll be right out.”

“Sure!” you said. “Sure, take your time.”

He disappeared through the doorway and you only just caught a flash of tile and mirror when he turned the light on before shutting the door. Seconds later, the sound of water running reached your ears, and, exhaling, you dropped your bag on the coffee table and unbuttoned your coat to drape it over the arm of the sofa before taking your boots off. You crept over to the window and pulled the gauzy curtain back. Below, cars zipped through the city streets, looking like festive ants from this height. You couldn’t hear anything except for the air conditioner — a bit chilly, but you stopped yourself from changing the temperature. You didn’t know how he liked it, and it might turn out to be… necessary.

The running water from the bathroom cut off abruptly and when you turned around, Harry emerged. His cardigan was gone, and his face looked scrubbed clean with his hair damp and pushed back like he’d raked his hands through it. “Sorry about that,” he said, quietly, grinning as he got closer, and you caught a waft of peppermint toothpaste. “Coffee and all.”

“It’s ok,” you said.

Harry stopped in front of you and your throat tightened when he slid his hands up your neck, palms soft and warm. Tilting your head back, you stayed very still as he rubbed the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs with an almost intimate tenderness, and your lips parted with anticipation. You could smell his cologne and you could feel how warm he was, but when he leaned in, you inhaled sharply and turned your face. “I should probably do the same,” you murmured almost regretfully. You wanted almost nothing more than to kiss him right then — you’d been waiting all night for that and more — but you could taste the espresso on your tongue, and you wanted to be able to kiss him right.

Harry looked like he was going to say no, and if he had you might’ve gone through with it, but finally, licking his lips, he nodded and let go of you. “Sure,” he said. “You can— go ahead, I’ll….”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly and slipped away, shutting the door behind you. Once you were in, you let out a breath and your shoulders slumped. The bathroom, like the suite, was massive, with a bathtub and a shower with a rainshower head stuck to the ceiling. Only one of the double sinks looked like it was in use, with his deodorant, a bottle of cologne, a comb, and a razor half out of a kit lying next to it along with a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste.

You gulped, staring at it, before patting underneath the counter and looking around the room. There had to be a complimentary…. Aha! The toiletry bag from the hotel was perched on a shelf over the toilet and you opened it, sighing with relief when you found a toothbrush and a microscopic tube of toothpaste.

“Can use my toothpaste, f’you want.”

You nearly dropped the whole thing into the sink when you jumped, holding your chest and looking at the closed door.

“I—” Swallowing your nerves, you nodded. “Thank you,” you called back. You unscrewed the gap from his tube with shaky hands and spread a bit on the bristles, and as you scrubbed, mouth foaming, you stared deep into your eyes in the mirror under the soft vanity lighting. Just sex — it was just sex. And yet, there weren’t enough words to say how surreal this was.

Teeth, tongue, and gums done, you splashed cool water around your neck and forehead before patting dry and evaluating yourself. Legs? Fine. Stomach? Full, but not uncomfortably so. Teeth? Fresh. That was it, then. Tapping the light off, you opened the door and stepped out.

Harry was on the edge of the bed, head hanging and hands on his knees, but he looked up when you came closer, a sharp snap of his neck, his glinting eyes reminiscent of a starving man.

“I’m sorry!” you rushed. “I’m sorry.”

“S’ok,” he said, standing. “Don’t worry about it, c’mere.”

No more pretense. No more waiting.

Cupping your face again, Harry slanted his mouth over yours and you moaned softly, circling your arms around his shoulders. For all the anticipation, it was slow — he was taking his time kissing and coaxing your lips open, groaning his appreciation between quiet smacks while you languidly pulled your hands across his back. He was warm through his shirt and every muscle seemed to tense and release under your wandering fingers. He really was broad, too — he didn’t look it sometimes, but he was, and strong. Minty kisses matched yours, and every now and then you caught a whiff of the same rich and delicious smell you’d determined earlier was his cologne. Breaking, you pressed your lips to his jaw and then his neck, moaning when you got a concentrated dose of the scent. Harry moaned and you felt the vibrations in your mouth through his skin, and he squeezed your hips as you kissed up and down his neck.

“That’s nice,” you murmured between kisses.

“Thanks,” he said, voice strained. You grinned. “Just be—” Harry swallowed. “Just be careful, please. Sorry if that makes me a dick, but….”

Be careful with—? Oh. Marks. “Don’t worry,” you whispered with another one. “I get it.” You were on his throat when you added, “No one will know I was here.”

He laughed, full and deep, and you grinned wider. “Come back here,” he said, tilting your head back so he could kiss you again, and you stilled to return it, though every now and then one of you smiled and broke the rhythm. Drawing your hands down his torso, you stopped at his waistline and felt along until you found the button for his trousers. “Tryin’ t’get into my pants?” he crowed under his breath.

“Made sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you said. “Might as well do something.”

The whole world turned when Harry spun you suddenly. You gasped, nearly shrieking with startled laughter when he dropped you on the bed, and you were still giggling when he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled your zipper down.

“Gonna hurt m’feelings if you keep laughin’ at me,” he said, the warning softened by his grin.

“No, I won’t,” you said, eyes rolling up with a sigh when he slid his hands underneath your shirt. You sat up a bit until he brought it up over your head and tossed it away before he bent over your chest.

You’d had sex with Harry Styles and forgotten all about it, but he was doing his damndest to make sure you remembered.

Oh. Right. He was good at this — ridiculously, absurdly, eye rollingly amazing. Each kiss down your over your breasts was simple but carefully placed. He suckled every patch of skin into his mouth with a thoughtful hum and a grunt of conclusion, and when he reached your sternum, he sighed hotly.

“God, y’smell good.” You laughed breathlessly and nodded your thanks as he made his way down your belly. “Smell so—” He pressed his nose to your hip and inhaled deeply— “good.”

He said it so deeply, so slowly, so deliberately, that if you didn’t know better you’d think he’d never meant anything more.

“I’m gonna take these off,” you said, voice sticking in your throat. You sat up and he did, too, pulling his shirt off while you stood on wobbly legs to shed your jeans. He stared, unabashedly, and it was again one of those moments that was so surreal you couldn’t believe you were living it. “Do you have condoms?” you asked, nearly toppling sideways as you kicked your ankles free.

“In the drawer,” he said.

He’d really detoured to New York out of Philadelphia just to sleep with you and he wasn’t even pretending he hadn’t had this in mind.

You took a step towards it but he grabbed your wrist. “Hang on,” he said. “Know you can hardly wait—”

You gasped. “Me?” You almost wanted to smack that smarmy grin off his face, and when he nodded, you reminded him, “‘When’s good for you?’”

“Flexible schedule,” he murmured, pulling you down onto his lap. Straddling him, you held his shoulders to keep from teetering backwards, mouth hovering over his. “We’ve got all night,” he said, kneading your hips with a cocked head. “Don’t we? Not getting any sleep?”

An electric thrill shot through you. His lips were twisted at the corner in an almost coy smirk, and his eyes were endless, full of a level of confidence that made you tingle. You gasped, soft and sharp, and his smirk widened into a grin when you grasped his chin and kissed him, hard, as he dropped back onto the bed and brought you crashing with him.

Again the world spun when he turned you over, and your eyes rolled as he trailed kisses down your cheek and neck — greedy ones with chins colliding and teeth scraping skin as he held you by the jaw to keep you still. You only barely managed to shift on your back when you felt his hand sliding underneath you, and seconds later the pressure of the band around your ribs released and your bra straps loosened on your shoulders. Harry pushed the flimsy material up over the swell of your breasts, and your mouth fell open when his closed firmly on your nipple. He released it with a soft noise before pulling it again with slightly more pressure, and one of your hands fell into his hair.

“Leg up,” he rasped against your breast, pushing one of your knees gently but firmly. You did as he asked and bit back a moan when he fit his palm over you through your underwear, its radiating heat making you throb. Up and down he stroked, tentatively at first and then with more certainty, thumb dipping into your slit over the fabric. “Ok?” he asked. Barely able to hear him through your ringing ears, you nodded, and, with the permission, he hooked his fingers under the thin scrap of fabric with a quiet groan. “That’s nice,” he said as he explored with such a careful, barely there touch, you almost couldn’t breathe waiting to just feel something. Swallowing hard, you let out a slow, deep breath, eyes falling shut as you turned your head to the side, knuckles brushing over your mouth as your heart raced out of control.

“Don’t have t’be quiet,” Harry said almost lazily as he descended lower and lower on your stomach with spongy, stubbly kisses and carefully opened you with his fingers. “Don’t have to—” He laughed when your legs jerked as the pads of his fingers slid over your clit. “S’ok,” he continued. “Relax for me… s’it feel good?”

You nodded, gulping.

“Is this ok?”

He pressed his finger onto your clit and you took a deep breath. “Yes,” you said, voice sticking in your throat.

“That’s good, then,” he said. “Anything y’don’t want me to do you just tell me, right?”

You moaned, then, low and long, and you lifted your hips from the bed as you squirmed. “Yes,” you repeated, slightly louder and pitchier. “Yes… oh,” you sighed, toes curling when he laved his tongue over your nipple while stroking your clit, each breath deep and full, your belly warm. “Fuck!” you whispered, sucking in sharply. The last time you’d felt yourself get wet like this — slippery, soaked — had been… well, with him.

You laughed under your breath. It’d been with him. Of course it had. “Oh!” you gasped sharply when he circled faster, gripping the back of his head with one hand while the other slapped down on his shoulder.

“Can hear it, can’t you?” he asked. “Can hear how wet— oop—” His finger slipped out of his rhythm. “There we go,” he muttered. “Easy…. Gotta make sure your pussy’s open for me, don’t we?”

“I am,” you said, back arching. “I am, I’m….” You clenched your teeth together and your head tossed against momentarily as you dug your toes into the sheets. “Mmm….”

“Sure?” he asked tightly. “Gonna be able to get inside?”

“I am,” you whispered. “Please, I want you inside me.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked.

“Yes!” You were hot, everywhere, almost feverishly, and you couldn’t stop moving, fidgeting, trying to do anything to just…. Sucking in sharply, your lips barely moved when you uttered, “Oh, my God, I’m gonna cum,” in one soft breath, digging your fingers into his shoulder more. Your whole body was tense and your stomach muscles kept clenching and releasing, the warmth in your belly spreading through your legs and up your chest. You were going to cum, you were— so close, almost laughably so. Whimpering, you pressed your trembling lips together to stifle a louder moan bordering on agony, and you were just starting to feel the relief of those first flutters when, suddenly… he stopped.

He stopped?

“No!” you said. “No, please, no, why?” you asked breathlessly, bordering on a cry, hand clapping to his face and forehead bumping his when he popped off your breast. “Why?”

He laughed, but it was a strained sound. “Sounds too pretty to let it end just yet,” he said. “Got… got all night, don’t we?” he asked. “Got all….” He grimaced and rocked backwards. “Shit.”

You stared at him, sluggish mind slowly catching up. He was still in his trousers — they’d never made it off somehow — and he was very obviously hard. “Come here,” you breathed. “Come….”

Harry grunted when you pushed them down his hips. Awkwardly, limbs tangled, you climbed over and around each other until he was on his back and you were on your shaky knees, tugging them down and off him completely. A pair of red boxer briefs fit him perfectly, hugging his thighs, hips, and the cock straining in them. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and you felt his eyes on you when you lowered down, pressing kisses to his knees and up his thighs, his leg hair tickling your nose. You were at the edge of his briefs by the time you were feeling blindly along his waistline, and you sat up when your fingers slipped inside to pull them down. Locking eyes with him only briefly when they were tugged past his thighs, you grinned impishly before lowering down and he touched the back of your head with a barely there graze when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock.

“Oh, shit,” he breathed blissfully above you. From under your lashes you could see him grinning with his arm over his eyes, and you licked again and again before ducking lower and pulling one of his balls into your mouth with a delicate suck. His answering groan made your hair stand on end and you wrapped your hand around his cock, running your thumb up and down near the head.

You had all night. Last time had been frantic, rushed, with an invisible timer that wouldn’t stop tick-tick-ticking, and you hadn’t known what you wanted, or were allowed, or how much of it you could have. Now, though, you were enjoying touching him, holding him, experimenting with what you knew and what you were figuring out from every moan and sharp breath above you.

“Is this good?” you asked between sucks.

“Yeah,” Harry grunted, nodding his head belatedly. “Shit… s’real good.” Gently, then, he grabbed your hand to move it higher up his shaft while you licked one of his balls. “Y’can… f’you want to—”

Hand in his, he moved your hold slowly up and down, and the throbbing sensation that’d been lingering between your legs grew. Holding your breath, you watched him jerking himself with your hand, each downward tug pulling his head out a little more. His nostrils flared and he gulped, throat bobbing visibly, and you licked your lips, head spinning. Unthinking, you lifted up and wrapped your mouth around the tip, sucking firmly with a breathy moan, and you felt his thighs trembling beneath you for a moment as his hands faltered. Up and down you bobbed, stretching your jaw slightly more each time to try to get more, but when you felt a click, you pulled off abruptly.

“Sorry—” You slurped wetly and laughed, horrified. “Sorry!”

His loud laugh joined yours, warmer and more delighted than yours. On fire, you dug the heels of your hands into your eyes until he pulled your wrists.

“Come here,” he said, still wheezing. “Come….”

You whined, stretching out next to him, and he chuckled, cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. “S’ok,” he said, body shaking with suppressed laughter. “Got me a little wet is all,” he teased.

You grunted when he rolled you onto your back and you melted underneath him as he kissed you — first on your mouth, then your neck, your shoulder, and inside your elbow, before he pushed up and opened the bedside table. The box of condoms wasn’t the hotel’s, but what had to be his own preferred brand, and you must’ve made a noise, because he glanced at you sharply, then.

“What?” he asked.

Smiling slightly, you shook your head. “Nothing,” you assured him.

He chortled, tearing one open and pulling out the flimsy, wet rubber. Biting your lip, you watched him pinch the end and smooth it down before he cleared his throat.

“D’you wanna get on your…?”

You stared, waiting for him to complete his question. Harry licked his lips and jerked his head.

“C’mere,” he said. “Turn over, like….” He coaxed you onto your hands and knees before pressing down on your back between your shoulder blades. “Little lower… there y’go,” he said when you bowed, arms outstretched ahead of you and ass high. “That good?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes, please,” you mumbled. He laughed quietly behind you but gripped your hips and you closed your eyes.

“Deep breath in,” he said, smooth and warm. “In and out, in and—”

Face contorting, you grunted under your breath when he thrust, shallowly at first but gradually deeper until his pelvis was flush with you. “Oh, fuck,” you wheezed, back arching. It was good, but a bit of a pinch and stretch — had it been this way last time? Maybe you hadn’t noticed as much from the adrenaline rushing through you.

“Ok?” he asked.

Still grimacing, you nodded, hands fisted in the sheets. “Good,” you managed. “Good, good… oh!” you cried out when he thrust with heavier weight, hands bruisingly tight on your hips. That right there — that was good, the angle and the depth, and if you brought your legs together just a bit—

“Fuck!” he groaned behind you. “Fucking….”

Faster, steadier, you muffled your noises in the sheets as you rocked back against him. Pathetic — you were pathetic whining and pushing into him, but he’d left you hanging and you were trying to get it back because you’d been so close.

“That’s it,” Harry grunted, laughing breathlessly. “Fuck my cock.” He took a rattling breath. “Fuck yourself on my cock…. Shit, y’got no idea how wet it looks right now.” He stilled suddenly and you paused, heaving.

“Harry!” you whimpered, twisting, arms too weak to lift up.

“What?” he asked, and you could hear the smug smirk in his voice. “S’wrong?”

You let out a keening moan, face flat on the bed, before you tightened and pushed back on him. His answering groan was guttural, and he held you fast when he went silent, only the slapping noise of your ass meeting his pelvis and the sound of the bed thunking filling the air. Good— not bad— not enough, though, either. Stopping short, wheezing, you reached behind you to tap one of his hands. “Let go,” you said, tapping it again. “Both….”

Immediately, the pressure released and he backed up without a question, slipping out of you with a wet drop. Gulping, you forced yourself up and sat back on your knees to steady yourself before turning. “You ok?” he asked. “You good?” His cheeks were red and his chest and arms were sweaty and shining, lips swollen and bitten up, eyes dark but sharp and attentive on you.

“Mmhm.” You pushed him by the shoulders and he teetered in his surprise before he fell on his back with a muted grunt. Hands on his chest, you swung one leg over him and lowered down to rest on the underside of his cock. His nostrils flared and his eyes bounced from your face to where you were sliding back and forth on top of him.

“What—” Harry cleared his throat. “What’re you doing?”

“Told me to fuck myself on your cock,” you reminded him, inhaling sharply when your clit bumped his head through the condom. “Didn’t you?”

Again he cleared his throat and ran his hands up and down your thighs. “C’mon, love,” he muttered. “Please. Don’t leave me hanging?”

“Why?” you said, laughing as his head fell back. “Have all night, don’t we? That’s what you told me.”

“M’fucking balls are gonna explode,” he said, groaning. “Seriously, I’m like….”

Still laughing, you lowered your chest while lifting your hips, and with your mouth on his, you guided his cock back in. One of his hands clapped down immediately on your ass and held you there when you began to rock again, finding a steady rhythm. Sloppier, rougher, but your clit was against him and the pressure was perfect.

“Oh my God, you feel so good,” you said between kisses. “You’re making me feel so— oh!” you exclaimed breathily.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Making y’feel good? You feel good? You feel….” Harry swallowed conclusively. “Fuck me, look at y’riding me like this!”

The hazy part of your brain hoped it was as good for him as it was for you, because this was amazing for you.

“Jesus, y’so….” Harry groaned, a deep, helpless sound. “Lis— listen to me,” he said. “Can y’do that? Can y’let me make it good for us?”

You didn’t answer at first, caught off guard.

“Trust me, darling,” he mumbled. “I can make it so good for you, I promise.”

“What? What, what—?”

“When I say stop,” Harry said. “Y’gonna stop.”

You whimpered.

“Just for a bit,” he rushed on. “Just for a bit, love, only for a moment.” He kissed you hard and quick. “S’gonna feel so good when y’cum,” he said. “I promise you, you’re gonna feel so good when you cum. Right?”

Rolling your hips, you huffed against his mouth. You were exhausted — your muscles were sore, used, and felt like they’d been stretched taught to the point of snapping more than once from the tremors rippling through you.

“Stop,” he whispered. Eyes squeezed shut, his cock pulsed inside you. “Stop, please—”

Whining, you came to a still, panting and dropping your head onto his shoulder, heart beating in your throat.

“That’s good!” he said, hand slipping up your sweaty back. “Good girl, just… just for a moment.”

“I wanna cum,” you admitted, more broken and needy than you liked.

“Promise,” he said, patting your shoulder, “y’gonna cum. Gonna take good fucking care of you.”

Again and again, you stopped and started, each stop happening sooner and sooner with both of you so close. You could feel how swollen you were from the repeated almosts, but even without finishing you knew he was right and that when you did finish it would be indescribably intense. He’d rolled you onto your back at one point and pulled out, trembling from head to toe with a glazed over look in his eyes as he fought to pull himself back, but by the time you were asking him to please, let you cum — you were tired, you wanted it, you just wanted to cum — you were back on top.

“Please, don’t stop,” you breathed. “Oh, please, oh—”

“So cum, then,” he groaned between his teeth. “Fucking cum.”

A cramp shot through your foot right when every muscle in you tightened, and you were pretty sure this was the ugliest you’d ever sounded when you came since the time you had your first orgasm and hadn’t had the ability to process the new sensations, but it felt… incredible. Hot, like everything in you had snapped and crackled and was shooting through you in fizzling tingles, and seconds later, he thrust up with a strangled sound in his throat and you felt his cock throbbing in you with each stream of cum. Shaking, his head dropped back off the side of the bed and he wheezed through each breath. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder, you gulped for air, trembling, ears ringing. The whole world might as well have been spinning for how steady you felt.

“Holy shit,” he breathed at last. “That was—”

“Yeah,” you said, relief flooding you. Him too — not just you. “Gimme a minute and I’ll….”

“S’ok,” he said, patting your ass. “Can take your time.”

***

You didn’t remember falling asleep. You didn’t remember much at all after the sex, honestly — how you’d gotten off him, or when he’d gotten rid of the condom, or if you’d even peed — although you did have a fuzzy memory of him calling down for room service and getting it despite it being after hours.

Waking up now, though, every bone in your body felt like they’d been fused together and then cracked. You rolled over, stretching and shaking, and your arm dropped to the side and swiped through the empty sheets — warm — as you listened to the shower running. When you finally opened your eyes, it was pitch black save for the crack of light coming from the bathroom. The blackout curtains had been pulled — he must’ve done that — and you twisted to look at the alarm clock next to the bed.

“Morning.”

Harry approached the bed, already wearing his trousers and t-shirt, hands full of the items from the bathroom countertop. His hair was damp at the ends but not washed, only his clothes evidencing his walk of shame.

“Morning,” you said.

He grinned crookedly. “How d’you feel?” he asked. “Y’know — with all that… wine and caffeine.” He smirked as if in on a private joke and you pressed your lips together. Pointed, and not at all about the wine and caffeine.

“Fine.” Amazing. “You’re up early.”

Still smirking, he said, “Have to leave for the airport in a bit.”

Already? That was… fast. Surprising, but not at all. The opposite of last night that’d felt like it’d gone on forever, but that was ending in a blink.

“It’s early,” you said, repeating your earlier sentiment.

“Headed to Philadelphia.”

You deflated. Right. “I’ll get dressed,” you said. You sat up, sheet tucked under your arms and across your chest.

“Don’t.” Harry dropped his items in his open suitcase on the overstuffed chair in the corner and a quick glance at the table revealed the laptop as well as the rest of his personal items had been swept from the suite. “Room’s mine until noon. I can call for a late check out, too, if you’d like. But you should stay — get some rest, order some breakfast.”

You shook your head. “I can’t, I—”

“Please?” he asked. “Paid for it, it should go to good use. ‘Less you got somewhere to be.”

You didn’t — you’d purposefully picked Friday to be able to take as long as you needed to the next day, but you’d thought you’d need the time to pick up where things had left off, not to lounge in a suite without him. Sighing, you smiled softly, and he nodded his satisfaction.

“Good,” he said as you leaned back against the headboard. “Take your time — sounds like you had a busy week.” His hands were hidden in his bag as he shuffled around inside. “This was fun,” he added quietly, the sound of his suitcase closing explosive in the silence.

“Mmm.” A vague sound, but you weren’t brave enough to say anything of substance.

“When I fly back to London, I’m going to be stopping in Philly again,” he said. “If you’re around— maybe I can call you and see?”

Not a dream — he was really standing in front of you asking if he could come up to see you sometime. When you didn’t respond, he looked at you from the corner of his eye, and you took a deep breath, snapping yourself out of your reverie.

“Sure,” you said as nonchalantly as you could. “If I’m around.”

“If you’re around.”

Jacket and cap on, Harry picked up his bag in one hand and held what looked like his passport and a boarding pass in the other. “Just gotta do one thing,” he muttered, and as he got closer, your lips parted. When he bent, though, he picked up the phone with one hooked finger and jabbed 0 with his knuckle. His necklaces dangled from his neck and he was so close his breath tickled your nose, eyes twinkling with mischief even as he mumbled a sorry.

You were just about to playfully whisper that he did know it was a cordless phone, right, when you heard a pleasant, clipped voice on the other end. “Good morning,” he said. “M’calling because I’d like to see if it’s possible to get a late check out?” You shook your head but he ignored you. “Yeah— great, thanks. 2:00pm?” You rolled your eyes. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much, have a great day.”

“I won’t stay that long,” you said when he hung up.

“But now y’can if you want to.”

Harry grinned even as you shook your head.

“You have a plane to catch.”

“Kickin’ me out?”

You shrugged and he chuckled. “Had a good time,” he said with the same quiet sincerity from before.

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Thank you. I’ll call—”

“Ok—”

You saw it, then — the faintest glimmer of hesitation and uncertainty, and honestly? You didn’t blame him. He’d flown in for a trip that, as far as you could tell, was for work, and he’d made a detour into the city for sex. The sex was done, and so was any physical intimacy, but it would feel… off to end the night with a handshake.

Before you could think to say it was ok and he didn’t have to, though, he mumbled, “I’ll see you,” just as he leaned in. Short but not quick, you leaned into it, and then, just like that, it was over.

***

You genuinely thought he’d forgotten about what he’d said. He was busy, and getting some wasn’t a priority, but when your phone rang with an unknown number some few weeks later, you paused and had half a second of questioning before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” he returned it, sounding amused. “Y’not sure it’s me?”

“I don’t have your number,” you reminded him.

“Is now a good time to talk?”

“Sure?” More of a question than an answer, but he went on before you could correct yourself.

“M’gonna be flying out tomorrow,” he said. In the background, you could hear noises like zippers and snaps, and he had a distant echo in his voice that made you wonder if you were on speaker.

“Already?” you asked.

Harry laughed, loud but very far away. “Been a month or so,” he said.

“Really?”

“S’almost the holidays, love,” he said.

He was right — they were closer now than they were farther away, but it felt like only yesterday you’d been sweating and sharing a meal in a hole in the wall restaurant.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” he asked. You bit your lip and your prolonged silence must’ve made him falter. “If you’re not, it’s ok,” he said. “Just wanted to ask, cause I know I said maybe… if—”

“You’re flying to Philly from LA and then driving to the city?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Actually… s’more like I’m flying into the city and then I’ll head on out to Philly… after….”

After seeing you.

It was out of your mouth before you could think better. “You could stop by mine.” Silence greeted you and you kept talking to fill its void. “If the airport— I guess it depends— but even if you flew into Jersey you’d still have to go— except— I mean—”

He laughed on the other end and you groaned.

“I owe you dinner,” you said, face warm but a sheepish, unseen smile pulling at your mouth. “You’ve treated me twice.”

“Ok,” he drawled. “F’you wanna get me dinner, I can come by yours.”

“I’ll text you the address — I have the thread.”

“And I’ll text you my number,” he added. “You should have it.”

Twenty-four hours later, you were rushing around your studio trying to make it feel like less of a shoebox. Stupid — you should’ve just asked for his hotel. He had to have one! This was sex, it wasn’t a you get this tab and I’ll get the next one sort of arrangement. The sheets on your bed were freshly changed, pillows fluffed (fluffed — who knew you’d ever fluff pillows), and you’d swept and wiped the floors down in the living-bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom alike, but everything still felt small and not enough. You’d lit some candles to try to compensate, but you’d gone on and off with them, blowing them and relighting them a handful of times as you went back and forth on whether or not they lent a feeling that didn’t belong in this sort of situation. Now, though, they burned and flickered on your coffee table, and you were just connecting your phone to the speaker when a knock on your door made you jump and spin.

“Coming!”

You spared a cursory glance through the peephole before twisting locks and unhooking chains, his hulking figure filling your doorway.

“Texted,” he said apologetically. “But—”

“I was just cleaning up,” you said, opening the door wider. “Sorry— come in.”

He shuffled past you with his printed luggage in hand, and your heart sank, ensnared in nerves, as he walked into the apartment that looked even smaller with him in it. Ears ringing, you could barely hear the notes of whatever album your phone had selected to autoplay. It was small, but it was yours — all yours — and if it didn’t meet his standards, then he didn’t have to stay.

“It’s—”

“Nice place,” he said slowly, and the upbeat lilt told you he wasn’t being facetious. Your shoulders fell with relief and the tension relaxed out of your neck. “That’s a nice candle,” he added, sniffing the air.

“It’s a little smaller than your hotel room,” you said.

“Been on tour buses, love,” he said, setting his luggage down. “There’s not really much smaller than a bunk racing across the country.”

Smiling, you squeezed your arms as he unzipped his coat and took his cap off. “How was your flight?” you asked.

“Dunno, really,” he said, running a hand through his mostly flattened curls. Unlike last time, he didn’t have his rings on, and his fingers looked longer and more slender without them. “Slept through most of it — had a bit of turbulence over Colorado or Utah or wherever, but it wasn’t tha’ bad.”

“Good,” you said. “If you wanna… um….” You jerked your thumb towards a door. “Bathroom’s there, if you need to clean up or anything.”

He nodded. “That’d be great, thanks. In there?”

You stepped aside to let him by, catching the distinct waft of plane and warmth and the spicy vanilla smell you’d come to associate with him. When he closed the door behind him, you exhaled and again spun through the apartment, shoving shoes under your bed to finish your tidying before carefully pulling the coffee table away from the sofa — his legs were longer, he’d need the room. You’d just smoothed out the rug when your phone buzzed and you grabbed it, seeing both the texts he’d sent you before that you’d missed in your focus as well as the one from your delivery man letting you know the food was outside. Perfect.

“S’a good album,” Harry said from the bathroom doorway after you locked up again. You jumped, gripping the bag with a knuckle-popping hold. You didn’t think it was possible to be quiet and sneaky in a place like this. “Sorry,” he said, snickering.

“I like it,” you breathed. “Dinner’s….” You lifted the bag on your way past him and heard him trailing after you. You set it on the coffee table and sat on the sofa as you popped the staples on the paper bag. “It’s nothing amazing.”

“That’s a review,” he teased, sitting next to you. “Now I can’t wait.”

“Shut up,” you said and he laughed loudly. “It’s just this place that’s nearish — El Diablito — they’ve got really good nachos and burritos.”

“Mexican, then?”

“Yeah.” Fuck. “Probably should’ve thought of that since you’ve just come back from LA,” you muttered.

“S’fine,” he said. “Didn’t really have much Mexican.”

You arched a brow and he coughed into his hand.

“So, d’I get a burrito?”

You nodded and pulled a hot, foil-wrapped item out of the bag. “Careful,” you warned, purposefully busying yourself with pulling the rest of the food out of the bag as he unfolded it.

“Looks good,” he said. From the corner of your eye, you watched him adjust his grip and angle his head before stretching his jaw wide to take a bite. You looked away quickly, almost overwhelmed by how comical it’d been, but when you looked back you found him chewing thoughtfully.

“You can have some of my quesadilla if you don’t like it,” you said quickly. “And the nachos are for both of us to pick at.”

Still, he didn’t say anything, until at last he swallowed and his lips smacked several times. “S’good,” he said thickly. “Like, that’s….” He peered at the corner he’d bitten into almost in disbelief. “That’s really good.” Again he stretched his mouth almost comically wide, tongue out, and this time you did laugh. Mouth full, he glanced up at you with unblinking eyes and mumbled a muffled, “What?” through his bite.

“Nothing,” you said, grinning and unwrapping your own food. “Go on, eat.”

“All right, calm down,” he said. “Have the whole night ahead of us.”

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baekhvuns · 2 years

Note

Bestie I'm not going to say, let's keep it a secret until I sell the info to Dispatch 😜

Some singers and actors mostly, London is suuuuuch a small places and many celebs hang out together so it's quite easy to run into them or have mutual friends. One of my friends went to school with miss Dua, another one lived next to Adele - Adele used to buy her cigarettes jdydushejshshs. I have some hooking up stories, but honestly everyone made out/slept with everyone at this point 🙈

Appa......... Yeah thanxx I hate it! Or the oppa kink, Seonghwa sweetie I'm so sorry they do this to you 😭 also oppa? Nice try, I'm a noona, lmao. I hink a lot of people want hardcore stuff because it's not something they get irl and apparently being vanilla is boring and uncool :/

The teacher assistant AU is much better I like it too. Maybe not the most professional thing to do but not ILLEGAL JAIL TIME

The white outfits were really uhmmmm 😵 I can't say I looked away though...

Omg, I usually hate the reverse gender argument but seriously?! Imagine saying this about female idols, some creeps do obviously and women need to wear uncomfortable and skimpy clothes a lot anyways, but still sexualisation is sexualisation.

I know the cheekies :( I even talked about them recently, at that time I didn't even realise how hollow his face was, I noticed he looked more skinny tho. But compared to now, even if Hwa doesn't actually weigh much more since he's slim anyway, the cheeks look so full, round Hwa is the best Hwa! I feel this because I'm skinny and even the smallest weigh loss is noticeable especially on my face and my ribs and it was the same in his case.

https://twitter.com/hwalovezone/status/1498346591308206083?t=B8s-uEXvwjYKtR5sGBvuKQ&s=19

Pls spare some for me I wanna be fed too! 😋

I'm all 👂🏼👂🏼 and 👁👁 I need some siren stuff, doesn't matter who's the creature though merman Hwa is something so personal to me. Play Atlantis by Shinee <3

But tell me he doesn't look like their son, the perfect combo?! I mean minus the incest, but well that's how they rolled in the ancient times akudkajdjsjsjsjsks

Forgot to talk about the cowboy photoshoot further, but I'm still not over their Don't Stop piratey one and do you remember the Noir thing?!?! Why is Universe kinda serving with the photos and shows, damn I hate that app but Ateez is always doing something with them and at least we can cry over their messages too. Or spam them with cat emojis and love confessions 🤗 so I'm lowkey grateful

I hope you get to see SVT! Don't know about the tickets cause prices for Stray Kids were INSAAAAANE, but fingers crossed for some not so expensive ones. And they better perform Aju Nice, if not,.PLEDIS OPEN UP 🔪

Actually Pledis open up anyways I wanna fight

Oooooh Straya, noice! I like all the big cities, because let's be honest there isn't much to do in smaller towns in Australia unless you like dangerous animals and dry weather... I'll put my guide goggles on, but I need to refresh my memory, feels like ages since I last went there 😭 Adelaide is really cool I didn't expect to like it as much, Brisbane has some fun city beaches. - DV 💖

hello hi!!!

Bestie I'm not going to say, let's keep it a secret until I sell the info to Dispatch 😜

HELLO??? MISS ADELE FBWNDBWM not DULA PEEP stop it 🤚🏼 AUTOGRAPHS SEND AN AUTOGRAPH ID BEG ON MY KNEES wow miss adele buy me cigarettes too why not <3 😭😭 THATS SO TRUE everyone knows everyone,,, aren’t they all technically family bc in london everyone’s kind of related- 😭😭🤚🏼

APPA LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭 the only reason i fear to meet seonghwa is if he starts to pull the oppa shit,, im running the opposite direction 😭😭😭 yEAAAHH vanilla is kind of better in so many ways bc sometimes in hardcore ur so in character u forget everything but with vanilla it’s nice and cozy and ur laughing and what not,, vanilla >> no bc vanilla can be hot too?? the tension?? BRAMHDKWHDQK

The teacher assistant AU is much better I like it too. Maybe not the most professional thing to do but not ILLEGAL JAIL TIME

YES YES !!! HDJWJ U WILL NEVER CATCH ME WRITING ANYTHING JAIL TIME unless milf but that one’s reasonable ☺️

The white outfits were really uhmmmm 😵 I can't say I looked away though...

YEAH!!! i think some fans just take it to a whole new level but those same ones be tweeting “who’s the first to come to your mind when i say daddy in ateez?” “im gonna lick his abs from top to bottom” 😭😭😭😭 like bro practice what u preach?? if ur rly worried about the whole ordeal, you are also the one who contributes to it one way or another 😭😭

GOD I LOVE FULL CHEEKS HWA so mf round i will eat them. yeah! his face was rly hollow and the blond/grey-ash hair just kind of accentuated it more,, god bless the belly chain but we don’t need it hwa 😭😭😭 AHHHH fast metabolism??? a blessing and a curse literally,,, me too me too 😭🤚🏼

https://twitter.com/hwalovezone/status/1498346591308206083?t=B8s-uEXvwjYKtR5sGBvuKQ&s=19

Pls spare some for me I wanna be fed too! 😋

BESTIE GET IN LINE 🔫

I'm all 👂🏼👂🏼 and 👁👁 I need some siren stuff, doesn't matter who's the creature though merman Hwa is something so personal to me. Play Atlantis by Shinee <3

👁👁 i would like to say,,, the siren yn is a top <3 mister hwa is very flustered,, HE IS LIKE SOME SORT OF A MERMAN— accidentally finds out he can breathe under water,,, he’s like a halfie? half human half water,, like a cucumber?? LMFAOOOO???

But tell me he doesn't look like their son, the perfect combo?! I mean minus the incest, but well that's how they rolled in the ancient times akudkajdjsjsjsjsks

NO HE LITERALLY DOES????????????? GET OUT ANON DO NOT DO THIS TO ME I CANNOT HAVE A NEW WIP I ALREADY HAVE A NEW ONE 😭😭😭 but i have a san wip as a semi-hades

u know what,, i think we’re never over the noir ones. we saw the hwa man spread and the way I ERUPTED THAT DAY FBWMDNMA noir >>>> BUT THOSE VOGUE PHOTOS WHERE THE TIDDIES 😩😮‍💨

bestie 😭😭 the tickets open june but resale and offfical arena sites say 1 ticket for $259 and with tax $331 😀😀😀 hybe really out to loot,, idk how the actual ones will be but this is wILD AND FOR ONE TICKET??? NO FR AJU NICE IS THE ONLY REASON ILL SPEND,,, if nct comes and the tickets are cheaper 😭😭 but i want to see horanghae live so bad

Actually Pledis open up anyways I wanna fight

yeah no fr, add hybe too, i just wanna talk 🤨

BDMQJDKW DANGEROUS ANIMALS IS ONE REASON IM HESITATING,, it’s like god put every animal from hell there??? and for what??? and aussies just play with them??? just like that?? 🔫 aH NO WORRIES !!! adelaide seems like a hidden gem, the buildings are super pretty !!! brisbane, going to that gold coast to drown in that deep water <33

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

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meetmymouth · 4 years

Text

when sunny met harry : harry styles imagine

based on this request

summary: harry and y/n break up but they’re not the only ones suffering. their -now her- golden retriever sunny thinks harry’s coming back.

“Sunny?” She calls from the bedroom when she doesn’t hear the nails on the wooden floor signalling that he’s following her.

As soon as Y/N gets home from work, Sunny would follow her around like a baby duck for a couple of hours, at least until after dinner, before he decides that Y/N’s here to stay.

Harry and Y/N found the lovable Golden when he was only 2, abused and abandoned near their local Waitrose. When Harry noticed and tried getting close to him, the puppy was all teeth and growls. At the end of year, they had the loveliest, goofiest puppy who loved head massages and belly rubs.

Despite Harry’s hectic schedule, Sunny loved him and Y/N even made fun of him and called Sunny a ‘daddy’s boy’. Harry loved being Sunny’s favourite because he was the fun ‘parent’: he found nothing wrong in sneaking him a few more treats than usual, didn’t raise his voice whenever Sunny decided that the bed was his territory and he let him bite and chew on his arms as much as he liked.

So when they broke up three months ago, it felt like a divorce more than anything so to say. Giving up Sunny and having him stay with Harry wasn’t an option not only for her but also Harry since he was rarely in London and whenever he was, he used to stay over at hers.

So when Harry was moving the last box out of her flat, he gave Sunny one last pat and a kiss on the head before leaving for good. Bless him, Sunny didn’t even know what was going on, he probably thought Harry was coming back either with treats or a movie to cuddle up on the sofa like they always did on Fridays.

“Sunny? Come get it,” Y/N tries again, thinking it will make him come to her if he thinks she’s offering him food but there’s nothing.

When she takes off her watch and earrings, she makes her way into the leaving room but she stops at the sound of Sunny’s wagging tail hitting the floor.

“What are you doing silly?”

Sunny turns his head and gives him a quick glance before turning back.

He’s sat in front of the front door, tail wagging happily as if someone showed him his leash which would mean he would go on his ‘walkies’.

Growing frustrated, she gets closer to the chubby dog and pets his bum.

“What are you doing, huh? You wanna go potty,” she muses more to herself and pouts. “Potty?” Her voice comes out louder than before, hoping that the word he’s fully familiar with would get a reaction out of him. But he stays put.

She does have a theory that might explain his behaviour but she really doesn’t want to go there. She starts walking away, just to test if he follows her but he’s still waiting by the front door.

“Are you kidding me?”

She reaches and knocks on door only once and her feelings are confirmed when Sunny replies with an enthusiastic bark.

Her heart sinks at the realisation that Sunny is, in fact, missing Harry and thinks he’s coming back.

Of course, he’s been showing signs of missing him and looking for him ever since he moved out but they weren’t as heartbreaking as him waiting by the front door. He would wait in front of their -her- bedroom door every morning despite Y/N already leaving the room, as if he was still asleep and would wake up, leave the room and give Sunny his morning pets.

Or when it’s time for bedtime and Sunny sneaks into her room and steals the second pillow from the bed, only to lay his head on it while he snoozed on the floor, next to the bed.

When he did stuff like that, Y/N knew it was because he missed Harry. But when he waited by the front door, it felt like he didn’t even know Harry wasn’t coming back. And that broke her heart.

“Sunny...” she tries guiding him towards the living room by his collar but he keeps barking. “Come on, come get treats.”

He doesn’t budge. In fact, he starts barking more and Y/N backs away, hands rubbing her forehead in hopes of getting rid of her headache.

As he barks away, she leaves him by the front door and perches on the sofa, hand reaching for her phone.

She knows he’s on a break and since they have mutual friends, she knows he’s in London. But she also knows how inappropriate and well, bad it would be to call her ex boyfriend because her dog misses him.

It all sounds so pathetic. And sad.

She sighs happily when Sunny stops barking for a moment but he starts again after a minute, making Y/N groan in frustration.

She calls his name, yells, tells him to stop but Sunny doesn’t budge. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose to piss her off.

With a quick decision, she unlocks her phone and find his contact. She doesn’t even hesitate before pressing the tiny icon and it starts ringing. When it signals that he’s picked up, Y/N feels herself starting to sweat.

“Hello?”

Y/N can’t help but close her eyes at the sound of his voice. It’s been longer than two months since they’ve spoken and only for a moment, she wants to pretend like nothing’s happened and she’s only calling to ask if he wants curry or tacos for tonight.

“Hi,” she almost whispers. “It’s Y/N.”

“I know, I have your number,” he chuckles and Y/N wants to feel jealous over the nonchalant response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. It’s just-“ as she tries to explain what’s going on without sounding like a clingy ex, Sunny’s barks become louder.

“Is that Sunny?” Harry chimes in.

“Yeah, he’s just- he won’t stop barking and he’s been sitting by the front door ever since I got home.”

She gets up and peeks her head into the corridor where Sunny’s still barking.

Harry must’ve heard the increasing sound that he signs on the other end of the line.

“Put me on speaker?” he suggests and Y/N obeys, pressing the speaker button and hopes that Sunny will stop barking if he hears his voice.

“Done,”

For a moment, they don’t speak. Harry doesn’t say anything. Sunny keeps barking.

And then they hear Harry shout Sunny’s name.

Then all of a sudden, the barking stops. Sunny starts looking around, trying to spot Harry and it breaks Y/N’s heart even more. He looks so happy, tail still wagging and tongue out as he comes towards the living room where Y/N’s standing with her phone on hand.

“Sunny boy?” Harry calls again and Sunny finally spots the phone and how Harry’s voice is coming from there.

As Sunny jumps up and down, Harry starts laughing at the sound of Sunny’s nails hitting the floorboard.

“He stopped barking,” Y/N starts but Harry starts talking to Sunny again.

“Sunny! Why are you being so loud, huh? Are you being a bad boy for Y/N?”

She rolls her eyes but at the same time his chest feels tight at the way he says her name.

“Do you think... should I FaceTime him? I mean...” he starts blabbering. “I know it’s not ideal but I miss him too and-“

“You can come and visit him when you’re in London, Harry. It’s us who broke up. Not you and Sunny.”

She knows three months isn’t a long time to get over him. She still misses him. She sometimes freezes in her place when she spots the single toothbrush in the bathroom. She still struggles cooking for one rather than two and she still doesn’t know if she should delete his pictures from her phone or not so she sticks to going through them with a wet smile and a glass of white.

“You sure? I feel like I’d overstep.”

“You wouldn’t. Maybe- maybe not now. Like, not at the moment but you can visit in the future. If you want.”

When she looks down, Sunny’s watching Y/N where he’s now laying on the dog bed in front of the TV unit.

“Alright. Thanks. I think- I’d like that I think. I really do miss him,” he mumbles and Y/N can picture him pinching his bottom lip.

She’s selfish so she wants to ask ‘what about me? Do you miss me too’ but she refrains and clears her throat.

“Okay. Okay- that’s cool. We can arrange that.”

“Has he settled down?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s just staring at me.”

“Good. Good boy,” he calls out again and Sunny’s ears perk up.

“Silly boy. Anyway, uhm. Thanks, Harry. Sorry for bothering you-“

“Don’t be silly. I know how anxious you get when he keeps barking. This was- this was good.”

She smiles gives another glance at the dog.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. Thank you.”

“Y/N?” He says, voice all rushed and hurried as if he wants to sneak in a last few words before they hang up.

“Yeah?” She asks, feeling anxious over what’s coming next.

Is he going to tell her not to call again? Or only call for things concerning Sunny?

“Can you- I mean. Can you send me a few pictures of Sunny? I haven’t seen him months and well... yeah.”

At his hesitant request, Y/N feels her chest tighten with sadness and there’s a knot in her stomach, making its way towards her throat and she wants to hang up as soon as possible so that she can start crying.

“Of course,” she promises, head tilted to the side and eyes all glassy with tears threatening to fall.

And later when she’s cuddled up with Sunny on the sofa and spamming Harry with some recent pictures of the silly dog who’s snoozing on her, the tears starts falling down as Harry replies with numerous heart eyes emoji.

* * *

* *

part two

💌 SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS 📝 MASTERLIST

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #my writing #harry blurb #harry writing #harrysgucciloafers

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dathen · 4 years

Text

TMA 165 Liveblog Dump

Jon being like "oh I used to be so bad about poetry, but I'm better now!! I don't think all poetry is bad anymore!!" Martin: what changed? Jon: <_<;;;; uhhhh idk I See Through You Mr. Sims I got so consumed by Hot Jon and Carousel Jon content afterwards I forgot to post this fdfhfhhf

this is 99% merry-go-round cuteness overload meltdown that resulted in my liveblog twitter being locked for posting too fast enjoy

revolutions was a MERRY GO ROUND none of our predictions guessed that

“we need to go through them...metaphorically. we need to...experience them” well that sounds alarmingly similar to the scars

jon: have you been on a merry-go-round recently? me: JON?? LIKES MERRY-GO-ROUNDS?????? martin: no, why? me: JON MERRY-GO-ROUDN????? jon: I actually, ah, there's one at london zoo-- ME: *FLIPS A TABLE* JON!! LIKES!! MERRY-GO-ROUNDS!!!

*tears streaming down my face* JON CUTE JON CUTE

JON GO ON A DATE WITH ME AND WE CAN GO ON A MERRY GO ROUND oh fuck where did that come from

jon: this merry-go-round went quite fast, actually, it was surprisingly thrilling I CAN'T HANDLE HIM I CAN'T THAT'S THE MOST OLD MAN THING TO SAY BUT IT'S SO CUTE THAT HE IS A FELLOW 30-YEAR-OLD WHO LIKES CAROUSELS YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME

SURPRISINGLY THRILLING MERRY-GO-ROUND how do you expect me to move on from that and hit play again. twitter is gonna ban me for spam

Narrator: Twitter did, in fact, ban them for spam.

why are we here?? just to suffer??? every week Jon Cute

MARTIN SOUNDS SO ENDEARED can you imagine what a time of his life he's been having reconciling every New Jon Fact with the dour snarly boss from season 1. picturing university student Jon getting excited about carousels. I am going to weep I can't handle them

can this be a Thing?? Jon taking Martin on a date involving carousels and Martin realizes they're fun in tame nostalgic way when there's someone trying to hold your hand reaching between the horses instead of a mother snapping at you to hold still? they get ice cream after??

I really shouldn't get so worked up over cute date ideas when they're about to go through a haunted carousel but I have been Unleashed

[Twitter bans me for spam]

"It's not Nikola. It's, uh, an old friend" oh FUCK fucking HELL is it not!sasha???? I am TERRIFIED

oh man this dynamic of Jon getting overwhelmed with the need to record his Guidebook but there's actual active monsters prowling the area they need to avoid, that's some good tension and also I am scared

I love Martin suggesting the plan for him to do that first. Lovely non-judgmental practical Martin <3

Statement time. this is some WTNV-level surrealistic horror

holy shit this is some goddamn freeform poetry. is that alliterative verse mixed in there??? I'm just sitting here like :0 :0 :0

DOES JONNY NEED TO BREATHE?? AIR?? DO YOU WANT OXYGEN????

I just realized the beginning of this ep was the reverse of them with the slaughter victims in 162. Martin taking a look at them being like "ah yes, the monsters" and Jon correcting them "no, they're people"

ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT JON'S POETRY STATEMENT I'MGLGJFKSDHGDKGH Martin: Was it any good? Jon: I don't know! You're the poetry expert, not me! HRHTHHTHRHRTHHT POETRY EXPERT...HOW FAR WE'VE COME..

Jon being like "oh I used to be so bad about poetry, but I'm better now!! I don't think all poetry is bad anymore!!" Martin: what changed? Jon: <_<;;;; uhhhh idk I See Through You Mr. Sims

Jon going from panicking and crying hiding from the not!them to "leave us alone, I won't warn you again" J...JON....H HOT

(okay panicking and crying is a different kind of Hot but we won’t go there rn)

JON LAUGHING AT THE NOT!THEM I'M GONNA PASS OUT

JON LAUGHING AT AND TAUNTING ONE OF THE MONSTERS THAT CAUSED THEM SO MUCH PAIN AND HEARTACHE STUFFS INTO MY FACE LIKE CANDY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME

THE MUSIC CHANGE at "what did you say" after she taunts him about sasha holy SHIT

A MONSTER SOUNDING FRIGHTENED OF JON A MONSTER TRYING TO APOLOGIZE TO JON AFTER EARNING HIS ANGER I dont care about Implications or Premonitions THIS IS THE DREAM (tm)

JON MAKING THE NOT!THEM FEEL THE TERROR OF EVERYONE IT HURT????? I???? I CANNOT EVEN PROCESS HOW SEXY THAT IS THAT IS A THOUSAND TIMES MORE SATISFYING THAN JUST FRYING WITH BRAIN POWER. THAT IS -VENGEANCE- AND IT IS DELICIOUS

martin: JON HOT JON HOT JON HOT

me and martin last week: JON CUTE JON CUTE me and martin this week: JON HOT JON HOT

#the magnus archives #tma spoilers #TMA 165 Revolutions

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itallbecameablr · 3 years

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Kingsman: The Secret Service's Timeline Doesn't Make Sense- Part 1

Alright, yes. I know this movie is almost or just over 6 years old at this point (depending on which release date you go from) but I spent 3 hours last night pulling my hair out over this, and I've got to rant at someone. This is going to be long as hell too, fair warning. Posting it here is preventing me from spamming Matthew Vaughn on Twitter about it.

Fair warning, Kingsman has no actual "timeline" that I could find, so this is all a bit of conjecture, but it's all backed up and I've got receipts baby. Also I may have spent a lot of time considering this. Why? Reasons. Fanfic reasons.

This is all about the latter half of the movie by the way, since the first half is more amorphous and can get away with more (though I estimated it took place over 4-6 months from the relative growth of JB and Roxy's poodle). I'm talking from the "honeypot" loyalty test to V-Day, and how it somehow took place over 3 days.

I'll have to split this over 2 posts, since apparently tumblr posts have a word limit.

Day 1- Friday June 20th 2014

Eggsy, Roxy, and Charlie are sent to a club to "seduce" the red herring, Lady Sophie Montague-Herring. I suspected it was either a Friday or Saturday since the club is fairly busy, and from later context clues Friday is the only one that makes any sort of sense.

They're knocked out, wake up tied to the train tracks, and the loyalty test takes place.

Merlin then tells them they get to spend 24 hours with their mentors and sends them on their way. From my rigorous calculations they actually spend far less than that, but I think they chose to say "24 hours" instead of "the night" because that carries implications.

(But we all know Harry and Eggsy banged anyway, there was just waaaay too much UST in that office for them not to.)

Day 2- Saturday June 21st 2014

Several things happen on Saturday. I honestly thought they took place at least a bit further apart, but evidence said otherwise.

We see the end of the "24 hours", where Harry shows Eggsy the weapons in the fitting room and they stumble upon Valentine, who says he's come to Kingsman Tailors for proper attire for the Royal Ascot. Finally, finally we have some sort of date confirmation! The Royal Ascot in 2014 took place from Tuesday, June 17th to Saturday, June 21st. Obviously Valentine is there for the final day of the event, since we know it's Saturday now.

The clothes Valentine is wearing come as a big context clue for later, by the way. And the bug that Harry has Locke & Co put into Valentine's "dope ass" top hat. Since The Royal Ascot started at 2:30 and we know this all happens before that, we'll say it's... 11? Maybe noon?

The scene shifts to the "shoot the dog" scene, which I had originally assumed took place at least a few days later since both Roxy and Eggsy are back from their "24 hours" even though it's clearly too early to have been 24 hours since the loyalty test. Since I've already decided that Merlin's calling it 24 hours was arbitrary, we'll move on.

Eggsy doesn't shoot JB, steals Arthur's car, goes home and changes, and the taxi gets remotely driven by Harry to his house while Eggsy is in the middle of threatening his stepfather. Since it's still very light outside, we'll estimate the time at around 7 at this point since sunset is about 9pm in England in the summer. That should give Eggsy just enough time to do all of that stuff.

Harry and Eggsy argue.

And here's the point where I know that this all happens on the same day as the Royal Ascot and the "24 hours" after the loyalty test.

They're interrupted when Harry's bug picks up on Valentine and Gazelle talking about testing the SIM's signal at the Church. And while Harry can't see them, the audience can, and they're still wearing their Royal Ascot attire! So unless Richmond Valentine and his assistant just so happened to be wearing the exact same clothes for that particular conversation as they had at the Royal Ascot, it's the same day. Since he's a billionaire, I highly doubt he'd wear the same suit twice in such a short time.

Harry leaves Eggsy at his house and jets off to Kentucky. An 11 hour flight from London. Even if Kingsman has a super fast jet Harry can take, that doesn't actually matter here because he would still have to wait for the start of: (Continued in Part 2)

#Kingsman #kingsman the secret service #eggsy unwin #harry hart #i'm going insane #hartwin #if any fic writers need the whole timeline for their records let me know #i did this all for hartwin

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a-jumped-up-pantry-boy · 4 years

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Get to know people game! Tagged by @sharing-a-room-with-an-open-fire, so merci!

Nickname (s): I have several (and none of them really make sense out of context lol) but one is Liv/ Livie / Vi, all of which you can call me (if you want, obviously)!

Zodiac: Aries (I have the other stuff, like positions of all the planets, written somewhere, but I’m not sure anyone needs all those details)

Height: Only just 5 foot (I’m a little bean)

Last thing I googled: Boston to London Time Conversion (very boring, unfortunately)

Song stuck in my head: the last great american dynasty by Taylor Swift (Honestly love the song, because I’m a complete cliché)

Number of followers: Only 4 (but I very rarely post, so it’s not surprising!)

Amount of sleep: Last night was fantastic, with 8 hours, but generally it’s less than that because of the ridiculous reading and researching I do at 1 in the morning)

Lucky number: Because I’m a sad one who likes mathematics, it was first 2 because it’s the lowest and only even prime number, and then 6 had a good feeling so I added that to the list, and then 12 because 2x6 makes 12 and that was logical to my eight year old self. So: 2, 6 and 12.

Favourite song: What a horrible thing to choose! All songs! I’ll do my most recently listened to one instead: august by Taylor Swift.

Favourite instrument: I love the ukulele because it’s such a cheerful instrument, and then singing because I’m a “singer” (I air quote that for a reason - I’m dubious in my own abilities) and because it’s so accessible to everyone and can easily bring joy.

Dream job: English Literature Lecturer/Professor, preferably specialising in LGBT fiction from the past, with DIVERSE backgrounds (eg, not all just old, rich, white men bitching about the men they love)

Aesthetic: Right, very specific coming your way - Cottages, late Victorian era outfits paired with striped tights, many, many books and spam eaten with lemon cake (I’d like to specify not at the same time, but spam first and then lemon cake AFTER)

Favourite animal noise: Cats purring, or goats. Just goats. I LOVE goats.

Random: Oh no, coming up with random things about myself. Okay, currently I’m going on a storm research project all about the history and language of flowers and their presence in historical literature (side note - if anyone has any books to recommend on the language or history of flowers, I’m desperate!)

It’s not gonna be 17 people, but here we go (don’t feel pressured btw!):

@yellowwaves1246 @pan-and-ready-to-stan @whimsicalhumansacrifices @x-spooki-pansexual-x @a-person-who-is-ace and anyone else who feels like doing it, just because I can’t remember any other names right now!

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xhanisai · 5 years

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For your Kiss Au, how do Glaciator, Befana, Kung Food, Puppeteer, and Bubbler go? Honestly I really want Bubbler

Oh wow that’s quite a list :’DDDD Let’s stick with one at a time Puppeteer 2.0 BUBBLER! (I rewatched the episode to refresh my memory)

The episode starts off with Marinette, Nino and Alya spamming Adrien with birthday wishes on his phone. Marinette’s messages have lots of hearts and jokes in them, making Adrien’s heart melt. He still doesn’t accept the smelly camembert from Plagg.

Marinette does the make the scarf for him as well as some passion fruit macarons, a recipe she perfected all night just for him. She has some doubts however, wondering if these gifts are too much or too little and if she’ll ruin the team dynamic or scare him- cue an overthinking Marinette and an Alya trying to calm her down.

Everytime she tries to give the gift, Marinette dumbly chickens out and avoids Adrien, much to his dismay. He was already upset that his father didn’t even see him or even acknowledge him, also refusing his request for a party so seeing Marinette run off every time he’s nearby really crushed him. He wondered if he was doing anything wrong, reaching far-fetched conclusions.

“Plagg! What if she moves away to London or Hawaii so that she never has to see my face again?? Then I’ll be alone forever, Le Papillon will take over Paris, Chloe will be insufferable and I’ll be ALONE FOREVER!”

“You said that twice,”

“I’M DESTINED TO MARRY LONELINESS!”

Luckily, Nino was quick to console the brooding blonde, telling him that maybe Marinette is up to something. Something for Adrien’s birthday. Adrien smiles at this, having some hope.

Things go similarly to canon; Nino tries convincing Adrien’s father for a party but gets rejected and called a bad influence, banned from entering the residence. (Gabriel is very cold in the beginning of the AU but slowly warms up). Nino gets akumatised the next moment.

When Le Bubbleur shows his presence along with the classmates, Adrien debates on whether to call Marinette for the transformation or to listen to Plagg and enjoy what’s possibly the only party he’d ever get.

He makes the rash decision in going for the party, still misunderstood by Marinette’s avoidance today. Poor Marinette on the other hand was running through Paris like a mad woman, following the bubble trail with Adrien’s present in hand.

As soon as Chloe’s request for a slow dance gets granted, Adrien immediately yeets himself away, out of the party with a big “NOPE!”, calling Marinette ASAP to alert her of the akuma’s location. He was hidden outside the house where there’s no cameras.

“So what made you think it’s a good idea to tell me this half an hour after he came to your house whilst I was scouring the other side of Paris like a headless chicken?” Her deadpanned tone sent a figurative arrow through Adrien’s body, sagging with so much guilt. How could he have let his selfishness get to him?

“I know, I’m sorry. I messed up- I just thought that I’d enjoy it whilst it lasts because it’ll never happen again. Ughhhhh...I’m such a spoilt brat...” The model was now hitting his head against the wall, hoping it’d knock some sense into him. “And you were acting all jumpy today, running away from me. I thought I did something to offend you or you hated me-”

“I could never hate you! Minou! It’s impossible to hate you.” Marinette’s voice turned soft and Adrien could tell that she was furrowing her eyebrows right now right this second. “I’m so sorry I made you think that. I was planning something in all honesty but kept on chickening out...”

“Oh? Don’t apologise, M’Lady. You know how I can get dramatic sometimes. And what are you planning? Something special for me?”

“Well~ considering how you partied with your akumatised best friend instead of calling me right away, I think you can make do without the special macarons I made.”

“NO! MARINETTE! YOU CANNOT TREAT YOUR ELDERS LIKE THAT! Talk about disrespectful...”

“Looks like Tikki is in for a treat tonight, isn’t that right?” The high pitched giggle from the red kwami was like torture to the boy.

“I’d do anything for your forgiveness, please, ANYTHING. Just don’t give my macarons to Tikki, my sweet, dear, amazing, wonderful, princess, knightress in shining spandex!” Plagg was close to gagging at his charge’s theatrics. Why is he always stuck with the sappy ones?

“Hahahah! Alright then, I just need you to turn around,”

“Turn around? Why-”

Suddenly, a soft, familiar pair of lips crashed into his whilst the small body collided into his. Arms wrapped around his neck romantically that Adrien couldn’t help but swoon internally. He was quick to respond, clasping his arms around Marinette’s waist and tilt his head slightly to deepen the kiss, ignorant to their bodies transforming into their heroic gears.

Supple cotton was replaced with a silky yet cool material. Gelled up blonde locks was replaced with fluffy, untamed hair. The feel of their lips against each others transformed into an indescribable feeling that only comes along when they’re their vigilant personas.

Ladybug was the first to pull, eyes still fluttered closed and lips pursed. Her gloss was smudged, leaving a residue on his lips and the boy couldn’t help but smirk victoriously.

“Happy Birthday, Adrien,” She breathed out. This broke whatever sense Chat’s mind had because before they knew it, his legs turned to jelly, making him melt into Ladybug’s arms. Literally.

“Best. Birthday. EVER.” Chat purred out dreamily, causing his lover to laugh heartily and set him back on his feet. Then, he saw the wrapped up present that Marinette placed on the side along with a box with the patisserie logo on it. Ladybug turned to see where he was staring, only to blush and look away, putting two pointer fingers together.

“T-T-There’s more stuff to give you but we really need to get to the akuma. Otherwise all the adults in Paris will be floating in space.” The words spilled out of her mouth faster than she could process, anxious once again.

The anxiety was melted away by the touch of his gloved hand resting on her cheek, making Ladybug look back at him. A beautiful, loving smile was resting on his lips, eyelids lowered with fondness as his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

Chat Noir brought their lips together once more, not deterred by Ladybug’s surprised squeak. This kiss was much shorter than the first one but it carried a sweetness that could rival the macarons in its box. Chat let his hand caress her cheek once more before pulling away. His warm gaze never leaving his face whilst Ladybug felt her heart skip many beats. Their love grew for each other even more.

“Thank you, Marinette,”

So! They easily defeat Le Bubbleur, their trust in each other having grown, impacted towards their dynamics. Their moves were much more fluid and their gestures were easier to read.

After the battle, before everyone could go home, Gabriel steps out. His face was stern and Nathalie wore a matching one. Everyone held their breaths but Adrien simply kept an arm in front of both Nino and Marinette. Much to his surprise, Gabriel’s lips turned into a small smile, handing a present into Adrien’s hands. He wishes his son happy birthday, apologises to Nino for overreacting and clears Adrien’s schedule for the rest of the day so that he can party or have fun with his friends.

Giddy and delighted, Adrien embraces his father, tears of happiness running down his cheeks as he repeated “Thank you Father”. Everyone melts at this scene and even Gabriel embraces him back. The gift turned out to be a hand sewn cardigan “The amount of cat related jackets you own is appalling,”.

Adrien makes the most of this, introducing his father to his friends properly whilst everyone else mingles in the party. When Gabriel saw the happiness on Adrien’s face when he opened Marinette’s gifts, he knew that that’s his future daughter-in-law. Operation Adrinette commenced. He made Nathalie write that down.

Being a weeb at heart, Adrien wraps the scarf around both his neck and Marinette’s, their hands clasped and cheeks flushed. Everyone took pictures of them like that. Adrien has one framed in his room.

T H E E N D

I’m so sorry I went overboard ahahahah! I just couldn’t help myself lol. Hope you enjoy~!

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sassmodeus · 4 years

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Time to talk about myself again, eh 👀 got tagged by @my-obeyme-sideblog 🧁

We already know most of the stuff so I’ll go with the new questions~

Favourite Artist: Harry Styles 👁👄👁

Favourite Song: probably “Bernadette” by IAMX, reminds me of my edgy days

Song stuck in your head: “London Bridge” by Fergie and the Christmas OST from Obey me

Last movie you saw: Shrek 2 [yes, I rewatched it because of the meme I had to make]

Last thing I googled:

Other blogs: now that’s awkward 🤭

Do you get asks: yes, but I hate spamming and I answer like twice a day 😪 I love reading them though!

Average amount of sleep: 8 hours precisely

Currently wearing: 🤡 I just got up.

Dream job: trophy wife

Dream trip: Egypt

Favourite foods: iced coffee (?) I’m not a fan of food 🤧

Play any instruments: piano but only because I wanted to be extra and show off at a trip 1 year ago, so I can play like 3-4 things

Onto the tags: @the-orizon @mammon-chan @leviastans @autisticobeymefan

#asks #obey me christmas ost is amazing

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zach-the-fox · 4 years

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Frostfur Episode 6: Grim Forecast

We’ve put a lot distance between us and the ghost city of Winterhome. Thanks to Emmy, these new sleds make it easier for us to schlep supplies. Of course, I’m not too excited to be pulling it, given the weight of the cargo is heavy, along with the warthog, for most of the journey. Carly has to suffer, too, but she’s carrying less than I’ve got. Just shows how gender really plays a role in an apocalyptic ice age. I just keep pressing onwards with my friends, and not a moment do I ever stop to look back at the city of the dead. We’re bound for New London, now, and we shall not stop. The terrain becomes harder to climb, as the sled of supplies make it difficult to ascend this new slope.

Carly struggles to tug the sleigh, letting out a grunt. “Ugh! This thing is so heavy!”

“Don’t be such a child,” I comment. “Look at me, and all of the stuff I’m hauling. I’ve got more things than you. You’re only carrying half the amount of supplies. You want to carry the rest of this up the mountain?”

“You’re quite the cheeky one. I think I shall suffer with my “half-load” instead.”

“Come on, guys,” Emmy spurts. “Let’s not argue until we’ve made it to our destination.” I pivot my head toward her and ask her how long it would be to reach the city. “We’ve got a while’s journey till we head to New London. We need to be prepared to stop and camp.” A while’s journey? Seems it’ll take longer than I had previously suspected. Then again, where else do we have to go? Our homes are probably buried under mounds of snow, so there’s no going back there, and Winterhome is a lost cause. Does this mean New London will be next?

I turn my head back to the front, only to see a strange silhouette piercing through the fog created by the roaring winds and snow. All my thoughts have shifted from the journey to this new shadow, causing me to stop in the snow.

The cat halts beside me, noticing my mood. “What is it, Zach?” My mind is too fixated on this particular object to give an answer, yet she and Emmy look beyond the misty atmosphere and know what has me at surprise. As the winds slow for a bit, we start to make out the features of this strange shadow; a tall building with some peculiar devices on the roof. It’s most likely a weather station set up by the scientists from Winterhome. “What is that?”

“It looks to be a weather station,” Emmy answers. “A team of scientists have set up here to keep tabs on the weather. Maybe we should check it out.”

“What?!” spurts Carly. “What in God’s name could possibly be in there that we’d stop and delay our arrival in New London?”

“Perhaps some of the contraptions survived, and could help us on our journey,” the warthog explains.

Those devices could actually prove to be useful. Another thought crosses my mind. “There may be some food there, too. It could take us longer to reach New London.”

“I don’t know,” Carly responds. “It doesn’t seem too safe up there.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Lass,” I assure her. “You have a trained soldier at your disposal by your side. I won’t let anything bad happen to you or Emmy, I promise.” The cat lets out a sigh, feeling defeated as her vote has been outnumbered by her two friends. She accepts our encouragement, and the two of us proceed to the weather station.

It’s quite a struggle with the prevailing winds and bombardment of snow pellets, as well as the mountain’s slope with the heavy supplies weighing us back. Yet, all these factors, despite slowing us in every way, do not prevent us from reaching the flat plateau. It takes us probably about a minute and a half to battle the elements and an additional couple of seconds to reach the door, then a few more seconds to knock it with the butt of my rifle and walk inside, after tying our sleds to some support beams outside. Holding my torch up, we begin to comb the entire shelter, seeing anything that could be of use. Up on the roof of the station, we can see the silent city of Winterhome, still standing in the distance as we’re far away from it. As the three of us continue wander around, we check everything and everywhere, searching the area for any signs of life as well, yet we see none. There’s nobody here, but everything seems to be operational. What were these scientists working on?

On the desk nearest to my right, I notice several notebooks, opened and filled with scrawled writings. These must be the notes the scientists were working on. Looking through the already-opened pages, they predict that the great cold is going to get much worse. What’s more troubling is that the observations ended abruptly months ago. They were tracking the weather and knew that it was coming… I wonder what else they recorded. Flipping through the entire book, I scan every written entry and record of knowledge, piecing together what was gathered and how it all happened. Emmy and Carly join my side as we all learn how the eternal cold had started:

The great mountains of Krakatoa and Mount Tambora have been very active, spewing ash up into the skies, creating thick smog. The blackened clouds hovered into the atmosphere, covering about seventy percent of our world’s atmosphere. The large “blanket” was responsible for dimming the sun, causing the temperatures to drop and bring in an early winter. As the writings go on, the scientists have reported hearing news of massive crop failures and the deaths of millions. Many had flocked to churches and places of worship to ask God for forgiveness of their sins in an effort to reverse the catastrophic events, but it was too late. Anarchy and unrest spread among the world, eventually bringing an end to many of the nations. The British Empire and the United States, however, created a pact to develop several installations, known as the “generators”, to act as heating city centers in the north. Their locations were thought out because of the rich coal deposits discovered in the icy artic. This was both nations’ last attempts of saving their populations and rebuilding society.

“This is not a happy story,” comments Carly. “Not one I’d want to read before bed.”

“That’s because it’s not meant to be,” explains a feminine voice from behind. We quickly turn around to see a purple rabbit standing before us, dressed warmly in an attire much similar to Emmy’s, suggesting she’s one of the scientists who was working here. Her wide, emerald eyes and long, smiley mouth with two teeth showing give us an eerie feeling. My arm wraps around to grasp my rifle, which rests firmly on my back. “How interesting for a couple of souls, such as you three, to enter a now-abandoned place.” Emmy and Carly inch closer to me, nearly hiding behind my back, making it more difficult for when I pull my gun out. “Did I frighten you? I did not mean to, for I get that quite frequently. I won’t hurt you, do not fret. My name’s Brook, and I am pretty friendly.”

“Where are the scientists who ran this place?” asks Emmy.

“They’re all gone,” the rabbit says. “Left this place behind as soon as the frost came in, taking everything but the equipment. There’s not a can of spam or even a crumb of bread left. So, if you are looking for food, you will find none. I was part of the research team, but I came back here to salvage anything that could be of benefit to my survival. Who are you three, might I ask?” We formally introduce ourselves to her. “Zach, Emmy, and Carly. Pleasure to meet you three. Any reason you have come here? Perhaps for shelter?”

“Somewhat,” I answer. “We’ve stopped here to see if we could find anything useful to help us with our journey to New London.”

“New London?” Brook repeats. “I don’t believe I’ve heard that name before. Is this a new settlement being developed?”

“Yes,” Emmy answers, taking a step away from my leg. “It is the location for London’s citizens to evacuate to. You see, we’ve just come from Winterhome, and we’re-”

“Winterhome?!” she interrupts. “You three manage to escape like the others?” Others?! What does she mean by that? There are other survivors? “I’ve heard what had happened there. Everything fell faster than the snow.”

“Actually,” Carly begins. “We weren’t in Winterhome when the chaos happened… We were supposed to be there, but we found everyone was dead.”

“Not everyone,” Brook tells us. “Many have fled the city after the explosion. Some did not survive in the frostland, though. It’s hard to adapt to the change in what nature had switched to.”

My paw relaxes from my rifle and returns to my side. I feel bad for this poor woman, being alone and out to fend for herself. The next thing I say will cause my friends to balk at me. “Hey, why don’t you come with us to New London?” Both the warthog and cat quickly dart their eyes at me. They must think I’m mental, which I was right.

“Accompany you lot?” she asks. “What is there in New London? A chance to survive?”

“A chance to live,” I respond.

“Zach,” Emmy whispers. I lean my head closer to her. “Are you sure you can trust this rabbit? I don’t feel too secure with her.”

“As with I,” adds Carly. “I know she’s out here by herself and I feel bad as well, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Where is your compassion?” I question them both. “The world has plunged into a never-ending winter and many are still struggling to survive. There doesn’t seem to be any hope left in people. When I joined the army, I pledged to my country and the people that I’d help those in need and strengthen their will to fight on. For the Lord’s sake, come with us, Brook, please.”

“You have much heart,” Brook replies. “I shall come with you, then. Lead the way.”

I then turn to Emmy and Carly. “Shall we continue to New London, then?” They nod. We leave the comfort of shelter and ready our sleds. With our new companion, her help is much appreciated, aiding us in pulling the supplies with us as we venture to our destination. I just hope New London is set up and in well-working order, because that city is our last chance any of us have to surviving our new reality.

#Frostpunk #Fox #Warthog #Cat #Rabbit #Fursona #Fanart #Fanfiction #Furry #OC

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alittledizzy · 5 years

Note

miss dizzy may you please talk about phil's 2015 reunion thing and what we knew

I sure can, anon!

On August 28 2015, Phil was spotted (alone) running through the train station. The person that saw him didn’t take a picture but they did post about it on twitter, and that started a whole hashtag of #WhyWasPhilRunning (link). At that point, he hadn’t announced he was going anywhere.

Later that day, Dan started tweeting some stuff that really worried fans.

Then Dan stopped tweeting and didn’t say anything else for a day. Everyone was basically spamming Phil nonstop asking if Dan was okay, but Phil didn’t respond either.

When Dan did come back he just responded to a few people asking about him.

Later that day, Phil tweeted this…

and then Dan and Phil were both spotted at a restaurant in Manchester. (I can’t find the picture but I’m fairly sure there was one of both of them If anyone has it, hit me up and I’ll edit it in.)

Finally (for that day) Dan came back and also tweeted this.

Then the next day Phil was back home and did a liveshow.

youtube

He talks about the trip but scatters the details throughout the first twenty minutes of the livestream instead of telling a whole story at once.

He mentions going to the school reunion at 2:20 in, then about the train ride at 5:11. At 5:50 he says “I was with Dan, by the way.” At 7:48 he talks about what else he did up north (got ice cream, hung out with friends) and talks about Dan being friends with the people from Manchester. At 8:50 he talks about not having gotten much sleep and being mildly delirious. At 14:50 he talks about waking up in someone else’s house having toast and the town he used to live in. At 15:18 he finally addresses the hashtag about him running and tells a weird story about how he was still packing and sent Dan ahead to get the train tickets (forgetting, I guess, that he told the upgrade story and said he bought them ages ago) and he was running through London because he was later. He says the train was delayed so in the end it didn’t even matter, and that was about the last of that.

We know that Dan was at the reunion with Phil, it’s just uncertain as to whether he traveled there with Phil or if he was struggling too much by himself and joined Phil later on. But either way, Dan was struggling and he had Phil, and knowing more now about his mental health and general struggles over the years, I’m so fucking glad for that.

#anon asks #phan asks #Anonymous

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 4 years

Note

What happened to katherine?

Nothing’s happened to her; she got an instagram account, which is awesome, and she’s been using it just to promote a charity she’s working with called “SpareHand” that are providing food and supplies to those who need it during the pandemic. She was even out there volunteering with Jude Law at a primary school in London yesterday to sort through supplies.

So basically Katherine is a lovely human being who’s actually doing good volunteer work during this quarantine and NOT just preaching at us while she’s all cosy and safe, and we should all stan her, thank you.

Basically, the problem is that there’s a seriously creepy and messed up fan harassing Katherine/Katherine’s fans and smearing her name.

There’s a LOT under the cut - please read at your own risk.

Years ago, back before CoG came out, there used to be a fan called “Candy Working” on Twitter who was a HUGE fan of Katherine, like her whole twitter was just Katherine related and it was all she could talk about. She kept saying that she was going to meet her at the premiere, blah blah blah. Anyway, during the summer of 2018, a private account appeared that we believed to be Katherine’s - most of us followed it, which is a huge sign something was up because why would she have a private account only to accept fans as follower requests? But we wanted it to be Katherine so bad - myself included. I’m ashamed to admit I told that account stuff in confidence believing it was Katherine, which I’ll get back to in a minute. As it soon turned out, however, the account was a fake - photos posted were either extremely blurred or very generic, or they could be found online with some digging. One of Katherine’s friends, an up and coming filmmaker who regularly speaks with fans, confirmed it was not Katherine. A huge giveaway was that the captions/messages from the account were in broken English and sounded nothing like how she speaks, and Katherine’s brother wasn’t following it, neither were her friends like Henri and the Beasts cast.

To cut to the chase, it was Candy. Candy made the account posing as Katherine. A dead giveaway is that “Katherine” went on a mass deleting followers spree and pretty much got rid of everyone BUT Candy. After that, a lot of us Waterstans got more savvy about things and we told Candy to stop. Candy denied it and for a long time we heard very little. Another thing Candy did in 2018, shortly after, however is editing Katherine and Callum Turner’s wikipedia pages to say that they were dating each other.

Over the past few years, more accounts have appeared posing as Katherine; using my fan accounts, and working with other fans, we’ve shut them all down. Until recently, Katherine has had no social media whatsoever because she’s a very private person, and we as fans should respect that.

Cut to very recently. Yet another troll account appeared on twitter - you see, someone (hint hint) has made account after account, tweeting things about Katherine and her father, saying vile and hurtful things about them. For example, they’re convinced on saying that Katherine is a horrible person, that her and her dad are involved in “child sacrifices” and the pedophile ring in Hollywood, and they’ve attacked Katherine’s fans regularly. Yes, we know it was Candy - all these accounts have the exact same writing style and way of speaking. It’s painfully obvious. Anyway, this account was posting shit, and I happened to click on it whilst on my laptop instead of my phone - and that’s when I noticed that they had posted a pic of me at my uni graduation because it was under their media section. I’ve posted the screenshot before, and I’m on my laptop right now so I’m not going to go digging for it since it’s slow, but it’s on my blog (this AND the Katherine fan blog I run).

Here’s a rundown of what happened:

They used the pic of me at graduation, asked if anyone remembered my name, and then tweeted in on a public platform, saying I was from London (which I’m not exactly, I’m outside of London)

They made up lies about me, took a screenshot from my Katherine blog where I expressed my disappointment regarding a project I had done for her birthday, and said it was proof that Katherine hates her fans

When I blocked them on my fan/usual twitter, they tracked down three of my other ones and continued to tweet/harass me, even when friends of mine told them to stop.

I was truly upset about the graduation thing and asked them to take it down - they refused and said it was a google leak and I should delete all of my accounts because of it.

I just want to say that while the picture is indeed on my personal instagram and on one of my blogs, there’s a HUGE difference between ME posting it to share my excitement/joy, and some CREEP online reposting it WITHOUT my permission in order to smear both me AND someone I look up to.

This account - besides attacking Katherine fans and Katherine herself - was constantly tweeting that 5G caused Coronavirus, was a Trump and Boris supporter, and just in general a tinhatter.

By the way, they claim to know Katherine very well and keep saying about “her son D”, her “rich millionaire husband”, how “katherine is going to post her memoirs and a documentary”. I don’t believe Candy knows anything at all, or if she does than it’s certainly not because she knows Katherine; but the fact that she’s supposedly giving out private information about Katherine’s private life (her baby, for example!) is HELLA creepy and nasty and rings a LOT of alarm bells.

Eventually, with a lot of fans reporting it, the account got terminated.

On Katherine’s instagram in the last week, an account on instagram has popped up and it’s so bizarre, to say the least; they constantly spam her with comments, firstly saying somewhat nice stuff before switching to harassing and being rude - saying she has no career, her fans are couch potatoes, that she’s brainwashed her fans, that the Beasts films are only successful because of Eddie, Jude and Johnny. We all know it’s Candy, we’ve all confirmed it. Again, same writing style, blah blah blah.You can see the comments on any of Katherine’s instagram posts to be honest, but I posted screenshots of some HERE.

Candy of course started to mention ME by name again. Because she’s fucking wacko. Calling me “No 1 London fan Megan” or some shit, saying I have a GoFundMe page to meet Katherine, which I don’t - I had one for my Tina Goldstein cosplay back in 2017, and the only reason I did was because I posted about being worried that I couldn’t afford it, and a bunch of people jumped in and said that they’d be more than happy to give some money in exchange for fics and as a “thank you” for the fics I had written. Frankly, it still stuns me that happened. But that’s not the point; they’ve spouted lies and shit that make me look bad, targeting me as well as a few fans specifically (namely the KW Russia account - who are very nice, by the way!). The spamming itself if unsettling, let alone what she’s actually saying. Candy also made an account called “Katherine Waterston Toronto” that she’s since made private after being called out, again spouting the same shit as she did before and on instagram.

We’re all reporting the accounts as best we can, but Twitter and Instagram are...well, we know what it’s like when it comes to reporting accounts (side-eyeing @staff for NOT taking down the TWO blogs that were specifically created JUST to make call-out posts about ME and every bad thing I’ve done in the past 5 years - good job, guys! Adult content isn’t allowed but call-out blogs calling for someone to be fucking arrested and to be banned from the fandom are A-OKAY!!) I’m hoping that Katherine is either not reading the comments or that if she does, she’ll see it’s a troll and just block them.

What’s interesting, though, is that Candy is claiming that Katherine has “hurt” her in some way, and that Katherine or her family got the police involved...something like that. Very interesting. Again, could be more steaming shit from what is clearly the world’s biggest tinhatter, but it honestly would not shock me if Katherine/her family got freaked out and contacted cops.

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treatian · 4 years

Text

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 179: An American Werewolf in the Steam Realm

The Steam Realm was his least favorite place. Period. He'd been to a lot of places in the Enchanted Forest, been all over their realm, traveled to Neverland and a Land Without Color and London and was intending even to go to a World Without Magic, but this place…this was the worst place he'd ever been to. It looked like London, the London he'd been to when dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but it was dank and sinister in a way that London wasn't. It was daytime, but the sky was black. All around him he could smell fire, weapons, sickness, and most troubling of all, rotting flesh. He arrived in a forest community, one that was armed to the teeth against something he couldn't possibly understand until he'd turned around and come face to face with a corpse. A living corpse. He'd seen a great many things in his time, but few sickened him like this…thing, walking around on two legs; if he could even call them that. He was decomposing. One of his legs was missing a chunk of flesh so that he could see right down to the bone. He was missing two fingers on his right hand. His jaw was slacked open as if he couldn't close it. One eye hung from is socket by something reddish-gray while the other was fixed on him. He was so horrified he just stood there as he advanced, too stunned to run away, until-

A metal arrow darted past him and embedded itself within the last good eye the creature had. It had happened so fast he'd stood there yet again in stunned silence as the creature dropped to his knees then completely down to the ground. A child, no more than nine, in tattered clothes, ran around him and up to the creature. He pulled the arrow from his eye, pocketed it in a small quiver, then set to cutting his head off with a crude axe when he finally looked up at him. The boy gasped and it was only then that he realized he bore a striking resemblance to this particular monster, with his scaly skin and greasy hair. As the boy struggled to get another arrow he managed to make himself disappear into the tree line. He had magic in this place, not sluggish like it was in England or even in the Land Without Color. It was an interesting observation, but he wasn't in the Steam Realm for observations, he was there to find someone.

The Seer was beginning to talk to him, frequently and rapidly. He wasn't sure if he'd just forgotten how annoying she could be because he'd shut her out after being afraid she might put something in his head about Belle, or if she was just getting agitated because something was going to happen. But one thing was very certain, this time, he was going to listen when she spoke. He just hadn't realized that when she'd given him instructions yesterday, this place was where those instructions would lead. He stayed in the village for a few days, using glamor to help hide his cursed appearance from the villagers. He learned what this place was and soon learned that there were some curses even less appealing than his own.

The Steam Realm was a world in the midst of destruction, the stuff of nightmares. Unfriendly werewolves, beings called vampires that drank the blood of their victims, but most terrifying of all a creature that everyone called "the undead". They were beings infected with some kind of disease that forced them to feed on the flesh, specifically the brains, of other humans. As the disease ate at them, their bodies decomposed right along with their minds until they craved nothing but flesh. The only way they could be killed was to be beheaded, but steel arrows could temporarily stun them. It was good information to have.

The village he was at was one of the last of its kind, most people, in order to avoid the monsters, had gathered in cities with great walls to keep the creatures out. For the most part the cities were safe places but miserable. This realm knew about magic, but blamed it for most of their woes. Magic was not permitted within the cities and neither were the monsters. He shrugged as someone warned him against going, telling them that he was only a visitor.

"No one visits here," he was informed by a very confused young woman.

"Well, there's a first for everything."

And there was. The Curse that was coming for him was the reason, the first that drove him to this place, for there was someone he needed to see. Because the truth was he wasn't the first visitor they had here, there was another, and that was the man the Seer wanted him to see.

A law about magic couldn't keep him from doing it, and once he passed the stringent laws in order to get into the city, he was able to use an old spell to find his furry target…though, not so furry at the moment. Just dirty. He worked at a plant in the city, one that created coal and helped stoke the fires that made the steam. He found him there, getting off work, black dust clung to the creases in his skin no matter how hard he wiped at it with a cloth, and then…he cast his gaze to the sky, looking up as if he could see the moon through the black and smog. No one could see the moon, not even him…but he imagined that his new asset didn't need to see the moon to know what phase it was in. He could probably feel it.

"You don't belong here, dearie!"

The second the man stepped into his home he used magic to take himself inside and met him in his pitiful little kitchen. The man was quick. He pulled a knife from a drawer, tossed it in the air, caught it properly, and…he'd already used his magic to get to another place in the room for his own protection. A knife wouldn't kill him, not that knife at least, but he didn't particularly need the distraction.

"Nice try, but it'll take more than that to rid the world of me."

The man gasped as he turned to face him. He eyed him with distrust, looked him over, and then lowered the knife, but certainly didn't put it away.

"It would seem you don't belong here either...Dark One. What do you want?"

"Ooh! I do love it when I make an impression across the realms."

"Only with me. My father was of your world, he told me stories, it nearly killed him!"

"Ah, but you're not of my world!" he pointed out. "You're not even of this one. Tell me, who's idea was it to come here, yours…or his?"

The man opened his mouth to speak but instead just ended up breathing hard before he took a step back. "What's it to you? What do you know about me? What are you doing here?"

He smiled. "Interesting that you have questions. I have questions too. It's what brings me here on business, your business. Tell me," he pulled one of the little wooden chairs out from his small table and sat down in it, his back straight, his gaze unflinching in his direction to show interest. "How did a werewolf such as your father find his way to a small little Realm Without Magic, in a place called 'The United States of America'? And, for that matter, how does his son, also a werewolf, go from this United States of America, to a small city called London?"

He crossed his legs, then folded his hands and placed them on his knee, and raised his eyebrows. He was trying to be inviting, but the man just stood there, his gaze challenging his own. He had to force himself not to roll his eyes. He knew who he was, but only from stories passed down. He wasn't as frightened as someone from their world might be. That didn't work so well for just getting the individual to talk, but he did have some experience with this. He just had to find the right deal, and fortunately, he brought it with him in the form of an old deal he'd long since put behind him.

"Very well…I seek information, information on the land your father once immigrated to, information concerning the place you once called home. In return…this coin, has been infused with a solution which allows he who possesses it to ignore the harmful effects of the moon's rays. So long as you keep it in your pocket, you will remain human. Drop it…" he let it clatter to the table where it promptly rolled off and with a bit of magic settled right between the toes of his boots, "…and you'll become the monster that I assume forced you to move here."

With a gasp of desperation, the man dipped down to scoop the thing up, but he recalled it back into his palm. "Ah! You only get it when my questions have been answered."

"What kind of questions?"

"Well I've just told you-"

"Yeah, questions about America, but…what do you want to know? It's been ten years since I left, if you want an opinion about Jackie Robinson joining the Dodgers, I left before the World Series. If you want to know what's in spam, so would I! I didn't know Truman, I had no secrets of state!"

"Is any of that important?" he questioned, trying to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. It was like he was speaking another language.

"I don't know! It depends on who you're talking to, that's why I need to know what you want to know!"

What he wanted to know…about his new and future home…a million and one things. He wanted to know what a truman was and why Jackie Robinson needed an opinion about joining people who dodged…whatever they were supposed to be dodging. He wanted to know what was in spam and what it was. He wanted to know where Baelfire was, but he knew the chances of him knowing his son personally there were slim because while he knew that there was a dark haired man who knew Baelfire and this man had dark hair, they weren't one in the same. So…the question wasn't what he wanted to know, but rather, what did he need to know. What did he need to know about where to find Baelfire? Why had the Seer sent him after him? What was going to help him in the curse?

"Storybrooke, Maine, United States of America…do you know where this place is?"

"The United States of America is a country, most people just call it America or United States, or USA for short, just depends what part of the country you're from. Maine is a state up North…it's cold a lot…it's practically Canada. I've never heard of Storybrooke, but I assume it's a town."

"How big is this…America?"

He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head looking overwhelmed and confused. "Forty-eight states total…millions of people I guess, I don't know, geography wasn't really my thing when I left."

Geography. The Curse was going to take care of that for him. He didn't need to know that, especially not before he left. He needed…he needed security. He had a plan with his potion from True Love to one day bring magic to that place and when it was there it would be a great resource. But before it arrived, he needed other resources to make up for it. In a world without magic, he needed power. How did a world without magic maintain that? What did he have to do to get power?

"How is power allocated? Who is in charge?"

"The President? Congress?"

Meaningless words.

"In a town like Storybrooke, an ordinary town, who would be in charge?"

"The police? Probably a Mayor? Or…well…I suppose at least technically."

"Technically? Who has the power? A mayor or police?"

The man smirked and blew a huff of air out of his nostrils. "There's no magic there so the powerful are those who have the most; most land, most money, most influence. Wherever this Storybrooke is…I'm sure it's just like every other place there. It's run by the people in charge, sometimes those people are who they seem, other times they're not."

"So if one wanted power there…?"

"Find yourself some cash, make sure you own your own land, don't rent, have a nice cushy job like a lawyer or a business owner, and then be sure to make friends in high places. And then bet on the Dodgers because my opinion is that Jackie Robinson's gonna make them fucking famous! Anything else you want to know?"

Suddenly he wasn't in the kitchen of the man's home anymore. Suddenly he was in a desolate place, on a lake of some kind. No…he wasn't on the lake, he was on a dock. There was fog all around him, a boat attached to the dock, and in front of him a single person he had been watching so long he would have recognized her even without her hood. Snow White.

Go now! The Seer ordered. She searches for you, for a way to forget! She must forget. She must forget so that she remembers. Go now! Or all is lost!

"Hey!" And just like that he was back in the kitchen, the voice, his vision, had ended, but his heart raced with anticipation. Another trick of the Seer's, one that she used to impress upon him the importance of time. She'd told him to come here for useful information, now she wanted him back in his own realm to meet Snow White. She wanted him there now. One of these days he was going to have to press her for a schedule.

"Anything else you want to know, or can I have that?"

Oh. He'd been nearly up and ready to leave when his voice summoned him back and reminded him of where he was and what he was doing. And the Dark Ones were there, striking magic into him, reminding him of the deal he'd made with the werewolf and the coin he still held in his hand, the coin he'd made just for this moment like he'd made Granny's cloak.

This moment…

"Go" said the Seer. So he went. "Talk" said the Seer, so he talked. "Go," she'd just said again…but had he talked all he needed to? In the new world, material possessions would be his power. He needed money and influence, he needed land and to be his own boss, not magic. But of course…if he had magic, that might put him heads and tails above the rest. He wanted no surprises. He needed no surprises.

"When they call it the Land Without Magic…"

"It's mostly true. No magic, at least none like what you're used to. But they have belief and miracles. Sometimes it's just as strong as magic, sometimes less. Belief in werewolves was enough to keep my father and I changing, at least until he died, hunted down like a monster. I wished for a world I'd belong…ended up here. I didn't realize my kind here were monsters and everyone would be afraid of me like they are, that I'd have to hide as much as I do."

"Ease your conscious…" flips the coin at him. He catches it in one hand and looks it over.

"Will this thing really work?"

"Hold tight to it next full moon, and you'll find out. One last thing, how did your father get to a Land Without Magic. It wasn't a fairy perhaps, was it? A bean, maybe?"

"Don't know," he shook his head. "My father took me when I was three, I have no memories of going, and when I asked, he never told me."

He didn't press the issue, not what he was as close as he was to getting things the way the Seer had always promised. In fact, from where he stood now he was almost certain that if he'd told him how it was done, he probably wouldn't have done it just out of a fear that he would mess up what he had, nearly a century and a half of work, all for a wild goose chase. He had to remain focused, and at the moment, that meant finding Snow White.

#Rumbelle #Rumple #Rumpelstiltskin #Dark One #Snow White #ouat #ouat fanfiction #fanfic

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