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harryforvogue · 3 months

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Part Three | Chapter Eighteen: Lord Save Me, My Drug is My Baby*

August 1919

Newport, Rhode Island

Harry doesn't take long in the bathroom, rubbing the towel against his scalp when he steps out, monitoring my reaction. His eyes soften when we both look at each other.

"Are you alright?" he asks, sitting down besides me. He takes the letter from me and tucks it back into the book before placing the book on the floor. His hands are warm and wrinkled from the water. "I may have been able to give you the letter, but I couldn't be here to watch you read it." He watches me for a moment before pressing his index finger under my eyelashes.

I can't stop looking at the white scar on his eyebrow and noticing how it jumps whenever the expression on Harry's face changes.

I recall Aunt Geraldine telling me how hard it is to keep a brave face when your loved one is suffering so bad. I don't think I've been keeping one because I complain about our relations often, sometimes out of anger, but I haven't fully accepted that Harry was a different person until now. Because he's a different person than he was at the beginning of this vacation, even when we were at Atlantic City. The man who could barely look up at me long enough to express he wanted to get out of New York for some time.

"I don't think so," I admit suddenly, taken aback by the shakiness of my voice. He is too, eyebrows creasing immediately at the sound. "You weren't alright either, for years. And maybe you still aren't now, but... Harry, do you feel like something has changed?"

The corner of his mouth twists up. "Maybe something good did some out of this vacation. I feel..." he trails off, "exposed?"

"It's crazy what forced proximity will do for you."

I expect some kind of amused reply from him, but definitely not the bark of laughter he lets out, rubbing the stubble on his jaw with his fingers. I watch him laugh like the sun has come out of hibernation. And then I think of the last time he laughed like this, from his belly, one hand on his chest as if to calm himself.

"Quit bringing that up and come here."

I move to him quickly, not giving him a second to pause and reconsider. Harry smiles softly, touching my chin. His fingers move to my jaw and then my cheek, running his thumb over.

"Have I become good at touching you?"

I nod, leaning my hand into his cheek. "Yes. So good, Harry. It makes me happy."

"You're happy, right? You mean that?" he murmurs. "Even though at this moment you're not alright?"

"I am." I step closer, holding his shirt now, tightly. "Please tell me you are too."

A few seconds pass before his hands move, tentatively wrapping around my shoulders, and then one hand presses my head further into his collarbone. A firm hold.

I clutch him closer, closing my eyes. Overwhelmed by his body enveloping mine, I desperately cling to him, silently thanking God and the heavens and every particle in the universe for this hug. And then I beg him to not release me for all of eternity. I'm not ready to be released.

In previous years, his arms would hide me from the cruelty of the world, the coldness from my parents and the unforgiving friends who refused to reach out to me to talk to me. I can only hope my arms have done the same for him even though other parts of my existence bother him.My voice, accent, and way of living often disturbs him, but I hope for his sake that he feels happy in my arms.

How must he feel? His heart beats fast in his chest and his fingers soothe me by rubbing against my scalp, but how do my arms wrapped around his torso help him? Is it even helping?

"I never wanted this to happen," I hear myself saying suddenly. "I thought I was helping when we were married and when we came to America. I'm scared...I'm scared I've made matters worse, Harry."

Harry's fingers stop moving in my hair.

"Annaliese," he says quietly, shock in his voice. "I didn't go to France because of you."

"Maybe... maybe we should have stayed in England and pushed your luck."

"I don't think that would have been smart."

"Then we should have gone somewhere else. Anywhere!"

Harry suddenly grasps my shoulders and pulls my body back to examine my face when my vision presents itself to be blurry.

"Have you been blaming yourself?" he whispers incredulously, watching me carefully. I want that smile back on his face. I want it back so bad.

Instead, he waits for my answer with that stupid frown pushing his eyebrows together.

"Harry. Mon cœur. I didn't mean for this to happen. I'd do anything to keep you. I'd rather go myself than--"

"Don't say that," he says sharply, holding my face. His heavy hands on my cheeks. "My love, I'd never allow that."

Hearing him say those two words makes me crumble against his torso. Suddenly, I can't stop crying. My eyes produce tears before the ones sitting against my waterline have dripped down my face. Harry's eyes widen with alarm. My cries don't sound like my cries, but like a child's. I don't recognize the noises I'm making, never had cried this hard before. I cry harder when I catch a glimpse of his own tears in his eyes.

I've been asking him what they did to him at the Western Front. Only now am I realizing what I've done to him.

"I've been selfish, haven't I? Picking fights with you about things you can't help. God, why didn't you tell me off?"

To my surprise, Harry laughs through his tears, swiping a hand over his cheek. "But I love arguing with you."

My heart jolts in my chest. "I love arguing with you!" I protest. "I love you. I love you so much. I just want..." I've wanted the old Harry to return to me for so long, but I know I won't ever have him back. But this new Harry is still forming, still evolving and from what I can tell in these early stages, I love him very much. "Just want you to be happy. I will do anything to make sure you're happy."

Harry leans in and makes me meet him half way by pulling my face in, catching my lips with his in a soft kiss. I quickly entangle myself with him, shuffling closer until most of our bodies are met up together. I kiss him harder than he goes for, and with a breathless voice, he says when he pulls away, "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

I pull him back in quickly, afraid he'll think that I'm finished with kissing him. I don't think I'll ever be. My heart is beating fast in my chest, finally not out of fear and I hope Harry's is doing the same.

Harry, however, slowly pulls out of my grasp when it weakens, my arms falling to my side with fatigue. He has a knowing look on his face mixed with sympathy as he draws away and puts a hand on my forehead.

"Why don't you get back in bed?" he murmurs quietly, tucking my curls behind my ears a few times to get all the loose strands. "You're not well."

I have no reason to argue with him, letting him tuck my body back into bed, draping the sheets over me.

"Stay with me," I protest when he gets off the bed and I rush to grab his arm. His eyebrows raise.

"You're so warm, Annaliese. Christ."

"Stay," I demand quietly, releasing him. "Please."

Harry doesn't have to consider it at all, nodding almost immediately after the words are out of my mouth. He gestures me to slide a bit, since the bed is so small, so he can lay down fully. But the size of the bed doesn't matter when he gently pulls me onto his chest and tucks us both in.

I'm trying hard to control my shivering, but I can't tell if it's because I'm excited to be so close to Harry or because of the cold. Either way, Harry tries to help by pressing his hand to my head and making it stop trembling manually. I hope I don't get him sick, but my drowsy, fever ridden state makes me selfish and stuck to him.

"Harry?"

"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay quiet for more than five minutes," he laughs, resting his head on mine. "Yes?"

"I'm not disappointed in you. You thought I would be, but I promise I'm not. I've never felt that way. I was just upset that you wouldn't talk to me, but I understand now and I won't be annoying about it again."

Harry laughs once more, patting my head as if I'm a child. "Thank you, Annaliese. I know you and I knew even back then that you'd love me unconditionally, but I doubted how much you knew about me for a while after returning. Now that you know everything," he says, "you still feel the same about me and I couldn't ask for anything more. Can you try going to sleep now?"

"I think so."

"Okay, baby."

The hand on my head stops patting and begins to scratch my scalp, lulling me to sleep. I clutch Harry tightly, making sure he's still under me as I'm slipping away, and then I send a quick prayer up that Harry gets some rest too.

***

The next time I wake is in the evening, my fever broken and my stomach empty. Harry's awake, reading one of his books as I lay on him. He looks peaceful, eyes moving over the paper and then his fingers silently turning the page, continuing the pattern.

He catches me looking some time later, blinking a few times as if to focus his eyes, and then the smile on his face that I dreamt of returns his face, wrinkles crinkling around his eyes. "Hi."

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?" He puts his hand on my head and hums thoughtfully. "Your fever is gone. I think it's safe to shower."

We both look to the bathroom and my nose scrunches. "Fine." I turn my head and cough to get all the sleep out of my voice, reaching for the water next. "I won't sleep tonight."

"Be happy you weren't too sick. We'll take more medicine just in case okay?"

"Yes."

He grabs my arm when I struggle to sit up, helping me into my feet. I feel his eyes on me when I remove some clothes from my suitcase and bring walking to the bathroom.

"Hotel rooms are sexy," I say once I open the bathroom door, peeking over my shoulder.

Harry looks confused and then slowly smiles. "I've said that before, haven't I?"

"Yes. I dream about that night that went spent in the hotel in London for the first time."

"You dreamt about the place we first had sex?" Harry says, biting the inside of his cheek. "You really were sick."

"I'm all better now."

My shower isn't too cold. I'd like it to be freezing, but Harry's voice echoes in my head telling me not to since I'm still not out of the woods with this cold. I don't spend much time in there either, eager to return to my husband. With my clothes back on and dry, I pad out and back into the room.

He's in the same position, as expected. When he sees me in front of the mirror detangling my hair, he gets out of bed and takes out my medicine, tilting two pills into my hand. I swallow them without worrying him about it and then look at him through the mirror, his towering figure casting a shadow over me, using the moonlight streaming in past the curtain-less windows.

The summer air isn't too sticky tonight, but the humidity of the air causes me to immediately reach for the buttons on my shirt and begin to undo them, wanting nothing more than the remainder of the cool air to hit every inch of my skin. My hair is tied next, leaving an exposed neck and curls off of my already sweaty forehead. I briefly think about taking a walk since we've been stuffed in this room for hours, but the look in his eyes makes me reconsider any plans I had of showering, or sleeping.

I haven't seen that expression on his usually tired face in over a year. Nor have I heard the gruff desperation in his voice when he speaks. "What are you doing, Annaliese?"

Prior to listening to his voice, I had half an idea of where this night would go, but after the words leave his mouth, I think that I'd rather do whatever he'd like.

I turn back around and glance at him through the mirror once more. His hand raises and presses to the back of my neck, wrapping around my jaw.

"What am I doing?" I tell him, stepping backwards until my back collides with his firm chest, and his hand tightens on my jaw. The brightness in his eyes grows more intense, despite the darkness. His throat moves as he swallows and wavers for just a few moments before bringing his head down, pressing his lips to the outside of the shell of my ear.

"Are you tired?"

I shake my head and gently cup his hand with my own. "Far from it."

He nods his head once and pulls away. He steps back and then begins unbuttoning his own shirt. "Annaliese."

My lips pull into a smile. "Harry."

There is a thick silence. A tense pause. We don't blink.

He finally speaks, blinking slowly. "Will you come to bed with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask, mon cœur."

He sits on the edge of the bed and holds his hand out. The moonlight hits the side of his face with the scar, but the white mark is barely visible under the white light. He looks at me with darkened eyes, hand outstretched and fingers barely flexed. When I put my hand in his, he tugs me close and lets me stand between his parted legs.

"Are we really doing this?"

"I want to," I say a bit breathlessly. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes." He hesitates. "But I'm nervous."

His hand traces up my arm, past my shoulders and collarbones until he touches the buttons of my shirt. He slips his fingers past the two undone ones, and then touches the fastened ones, raising his eyes towards me briefly to catch permission. I smile and nod, my chest rising and falling quickly, giving away how I actually feel despite my collected appearance.

"Nervous? What for?"

His eyes stay on my face, reading and studying, as he begins to unfasten the remainder of the buttons. His brows pinch. My index finger automatically hurries to press against the skin without thinking, soothing the crease. When I pull my hand away, the crease is gone.

"It's been over a year."

I laugh. "I think you and I still know what to do."

Once the final button is undone, his large palm runs over my waist and makes its way north, covering most of my skin at my hips and stomach before continuing up. I tilt my head back and gasp when he gently cups one breast, not bothering to hide his effect on my body anymore. My hands reach out and touch his shoulders, grasping firmly to balance myself as his other hand joins the connection with my left breast.

There are no words exchanged between us after that, but it feels like coming home. The intimacy is gentle and private, something we've been frightened of for months, tiptoeing around each other. I lean forward and cup his face instead, and then lower myself into his lap. His strong arms immediately wrap around my waist and tug me closer, moving back on the mattress so I have more room.

"Annaliese," Harry whispers, cupping my face. "My beautiful Annaliese."

"I'm here. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, you hear me?"

A smile spreads across his face and he leans in, manually tilting my head to the side to give him better access to my mouth. "I hear you," he whispers, pressing his warm lips to mine, eyelashes fluttering against my skin as he closes his eyes. His mouth is addictive, his lips synced with mine so well, I want to cry out and grab him, clutch him to my chest and scold him. Never leave me so cold and heartbroken. Not just for my sake, but his too, because without his happiness, mine is nonexistent.

He breaks from my mouth and kisses down the side of my neck. "Fuck," he whispers, tightening his arms even more. "Do you feel me?"

I do feel him, more than I could ever remember feeling him. He strains against his trousers, pressing against my thigh urgently. With a gentle movement, I rock my center against his. When he grunts, I draw my head back and check his reaction. His eyes are clearer than before and his hand finds its way to my hair, grabbing it, hesitantly at first, but more confidently when he hears the moan tumble from my lips.

"I feel you," I tell him, laying a hand on his chest where his fast heart beat presses against my skin. "I feel all of you."

The hand in my hair flattens and urges me to come back to him. His mouth is hot against mine, the other hand on my hip, encouraging my movements against his length. "Annaliese," he growls against my mouth. "You drive me fucking insane. What do you want? I'll give you anything."

"You," I answer immediately, clutching his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. "Please."

I've never wanted him this much, not even before we were married or the few blissful months we had after. I expected this need to feel far more tame than it is right now, a feeling of coming back to the man I've wanted to be with for years, but instead, it's a flame, one that towers over me and burns every inch of my skin. I feel feverish at the thought of seeing all of him, having him inside of me, the weight of his body on top of me.

My hands roam over his chest, catching one nipple and then stopping at the scar his father left under his pec. After kissing him once more, I whisper desperately, "Harry. Can we do this? Can we please?"

His curls tickle my face as he nods, releasing my hair and smoothing my ruined curls. "Yes, my love. I'll give you anything you want, in whichever way you'd like. Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want."

"I want you on top." I stop pressing my hips against his. "Please. I want... I want you everywhere. Everywhere."

He nods again and releases me, letting my roll off of him. My shirt falls to the floor as I turn around to watch him work on his belt buckle, slipping the leather off and letting it fall to the side of the bed. His button is undone and I watch with excitement as his hand moves to lower the zip over his bulge until his fly is open. He stands up and walks towards me with a hungry look in his eye, reaching for my waist again, pushing me down onto the mattress until my back lays flat against it.

"You look so good," I whisper, holding the back of his neck when he snakes his hands under my back and unclasps my bra, letting the material fall away. "So good. Missed you. Missed seeing all of you. Please, Harry, I'm so impatient. I want to see all of you."

Harry stutters out a laugh, letting me dip my fingers into his underwear. "You're telling me. I'll burst if I don't see you, my love."

"Get on with it then, Styles."

His hands trail down to my own trousers, pushing them down, leaving me under him in just my underwear, and when he removes his trousers, he's the same as me. The hungry look in his eye returns and he gathers my wrists up in one hand, pressing them above my head.

"Annaliese," he says with a squeeze of my wrists. "Look at me."

My eyes focus on him. "Anything for you."

"I'm going to go get a rubber. Stay here and don't move."

A shiver runs up my spine at the sound of his delicious command. I nod and watch him get off of me. I feel cold in his absence, too addicted to him already. When returns, he's holding the packet between his teeth.

A memory violently takes me, my eyes widening. Harry always held the rubber packet between his teeth as he climbed the bed up to meet me, claiming it was easy to just grab onto with his teeth and then rip it with his non dominant hand. He used to say that he didn't like to hold the rubber in both hands because it was easier to just rip with his teeth.

He does the same now, climbing onto the bed, ripping the foil with his left hand, and removing the rubber. He rolls on the condom and then glances at me, tilting his head questioningly. "What is it?" He reaches towards me, catching the moisture running down my cheek. "Annaliese?"

I hastily shake my head. "I'm okay. I'm just...remembering something."

"What is it?"

My harsh breathing stops as soon as it starts and he relaxes, sliding his palms up to my thighs, gently parting them.

"You would always hold the packet like that. It hasn't changed."

His cheeks go pink. "Well. That's a weird memory to have."

"You look so good," I whisper again, looking up at him. It's been so long since I've seen him naked, I've almost forgotten how hard his thighs and the firm muscles of his torso are. I realize, however, that I've never seen Harry this fit before. His training is what made him this new evolved Harry. I hold my hand out to him. I want to get to know him. "I want you so bad."

He takes my hand and places it on his chest as he crawls between my legs. His heartbeat returns under my fingers. "I want you," he murmurs, kissing my wrist.

"If you don't do it already..."

Harry drops my hand and laughs again. He lays his body, spreading my legs some more, gently teasing me by dipping his fingers into my underwear before sliding it off my body.

"Fuck," he murmurs, gently pressing a thumb to my clit without warning. I jolt, hands flying to grab his curls as he lowers his head and swipes his tongue over me. The pleasure shoots up my spine, causing me to gasp and twist his curls.

"Harry!" I exclaim, throwing my head back when he continues running his thumb over me, his finger gently rubbing circles on my clit. "Fuck."

"Walls are thin," he reminds me, muffled against my flesh.

"Fuck the walls."

"Our poor neighbors," he teases, pinching the fat around my hip.

"Don't care," I moan, wrapping my legs around his strong shoulders. "Missed you so much."

Harry raises his head and frowns, kisses my thighs. He opens his mouth but then closes it and kisses my thigh again. I hear something wet, like his mouth on something and then a finger presses against my opening. A low groan escapes me when he presses in until he reaches his knuckle, glancing down at him. He gently crooks his finger up and then runs his tongue across his lip when I gasp at the intense pleasure.

He's not working on stretching me. Not even when he works a second finger into me, pressing his fingers against the spot inside me that has been neglected for too long. He's keeping me on the edge, the bastard.

"Harry," I whimper impatiently, reaching for his hair.

"Is it feeling good? Do you think I remember your body correctly?"

He watches his fingers push into me and disappear and then he looks up to watch my face. I can't help but throw my head back. "Feels perfect. Oh!"

He brings his head down and slowly licks, watching my face. At the feel of my fingers trembling, he lets out a soft, satisfied laugh, and then contrasts the gentleness by pushing his fingers harshly and repeating the motion.

"Je vais jouir!" I cry, tightening my hold on him, however, as soon as he hears the words, he pulls away and wipes his fingers on the sheets.

He leans forward and kisses me roughly, tangling his fingers tightly in my hair, tilting my head to his liking. His mouth is eager and desperate, teeth biting down on my lower lip and gently pulling it away to make me desperate. It works.

I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him tight. "I want you so bad. Please don't stop, Harry."

"If you're sure, baby."

"I am. Please, I am."

He finally listens to me, hovering just enough to leave room for me to look at him comfortably. His curls fall over his face and brush against the frame of my face, but I don't bother to push the strands away, caught up in the intensity of his eyes.

I briefly see his hand reach down.

He holds eye contact with me as he slowly pushes in. My breath hitches, my body accepting him while enjoying the burn of the stretch. I gasp, wrapping my trembling arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

"Are you okay?" he asks me after staying still for a moment.

I pull back and whisper against his mouth, "I've never been this good."

"Yeah? I can move, my love?"

I'm nodding before he's finished with his sentence, pulling him back down. He hesitates for a moment before placing some weight on me, monitoring my reaction and my breath to make sure I'm breathing. In the midst of pleasure, I want to tell them that I don't care if he suffocates me here because I'd be dying happy. He presses a chaste kiss to my forehead and mutters a swear under his breath, touching my face to get me to look back up at him.

His green eyes are darker and more focused, the hand on my face curls and lifts my jaw up. He stares, unashamed, brows furrowing just a little bit when he pushes again deeply, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

"I've missed you so much," I whisper, tucking his curls behind his ears. "Do you know that? No you have no idea."

He turns his head and kisses my palm, his thrusts slowing. "I've missed you," he murmurs, squishing my cheeks together. "Tell me how you want it."

"I'll have you any way I can."

Harry smiles. "I didn't mean that. You've got me. I was talking about us... doing this."

"Wow," I say, struggling through a whimper when he thrusts roughly, "is Harry Styles afraid to say the s word?"

"S word?" he laughs, resting his head on my shoulder. He places more weight on me and then pushes his arms under my back to cradle me to his chest as I cradle him to mine.

"Sex."

"Absolutely not. Wow, you feel so good." The last part is whispered into my ear, accompanied with a bite of my earlobe. I shiver and tilt my head away but he kisses my neck and paralyzes me right there. "You feel," he whispers again, groaning under his breath, "like you were made for me. Don't you think we fit so well, my love?"

"We do." I push his hair back and then hold him against my chest tightly, my thighs trembling when he picks up his pace. "Fuck!"

"Have I ever told you," he groans, "how much I love your voice. Especially when you're like this. When you h-have me at your mercy."

"I have you at my mercy? Harry, look at us right now."

He grins down at me. "Think we have each other in a hold. Tightening your legs around me, love. You won't hurt me. Go ahead."

I do, my hands slipping down to his chest, digging my nails in. The pleasure on his face is transparent, a chill rushing through me when he bends down and softly kisses my mouth again, angling his hips a bit better, using one hand to raise my left leg over his.

"Tighter, I said, Annaliese."

"Harry, you have to give me some credit for how tight I'm holding you. I haven't been in this position in over a year."

"You're acting like you're an old lady," he teases. "But fine. If it's hard for you, I'll hold them."

He slowly pulls out and holds himself firmly as he tells me, "Slide down a bit."

I do as I'm told, mesmerized by him. He nods when the back of my thigh touches his thigh and then he wraps my legs around him and holds them there with his arms around my knees. He lets go just briefly to push himself back in.

I don't know if it's the position or that Harry can hold me better like this, but the pleasure is doubled. My free hands clutch the sheets under the bed and I try to swallow a moan for the sake of the neighbors, but I can't keep the noises in for too long. It's feeling way too good to remain silent.

"Merde! Je veux que tu me baises, Harry."

Harry lets out a breathless laugh, chest and neck flushed. His grip on my legs create imprints on my skin but I'm excited and wish for him to press further.

"You have no idea," he says, rolling his head back, "how fucking good you look. You make me want to be buried inside of you all the time. Just look at you."

His stomach jumps when I run my fingers over the muscle, poking at how hard his skin becomes when he thrusts. I squeeze him experimentally.

"Annaliese," he warns me, "you're going to me lose it."

"Do it," I groan. "Please. Please, do what you want."

"It's the first time we're having sex. I want it to be romantic," he laughs, unwinding one arm to gently hold my jaw, pressing his thumb into my mouth.

"It can be even if you go fast."

He obliges, starting his thrusts faster, filling and removing over and over until I'm at a point of no return and there's nothing I can feel, hear, or taste except him. He brings himself down and kisses my mouth roughly, finally, grunting against my mouth.

I want it to be sensual and everything that has been missing between us, but the rush of emotions after he murmurs, "You're all I want," in my ear is something unpredictable. It hits me in the middle of my chest and all the fatigue of the day or strain in my thighs I felt is gone. I throw my arms around him and force him to fall onto my with a small groan, making it harder for me to breathe. But I fucking love it.

Now he's everywhere, affecting even my breathing. He puts his arms under my body and raises me to meet him halfway while I pull him down to make him meet me and this new angle is everything I've wished for.

"Annaliese," he murmurs in my ear, kissing my cheek and jaw. "You always make me feel so good."

I don't have anything to say, afraid that if I make the slightest noise, he'll be scared and run off. I tighten my legs around him, enjoying the wave of pleasure that accompanies his every thrust.

"Annaliese," Harry says again, raising his head. He pushes the hair out of my face and kisses me very gently. His green eyes look more vibrant than usual. "I don't want to crush you."

"Please crush me," I whisper. "I could die so happily here."

A wide grin split his face as he lifts himself off a bit and rests himself on his elbows and forearm. "Tempting," he says teasingly. "But no."

I want to stare at him for hours, his curls falling into my face and tickling the skin. I shakily hold the back of his neck and shudder through the pleasure, groaning. "I can't believe I stayed away from you for so long."

Harry peppers kisses to my face, those barely present kisses. "How disappointed would you be if I told you I'm going to cum soon."

At the sound of his words, I can't help but whimper. "Never disappointed in you. I-I've told you that already and it counts for here too. I want you to feel good."

Harry stutters through a laugh, my heart jumping at the sound. I always want sex to be like this: playful and loving. It's all I could ask for. I sink my nails into his skin.

"I think," I whisper, "that I'll cum before you."

"I like that better."

I watch as Harry kisses me once more, breathlessly, and then brings his hand down to where we connect, rubbing quick circles perfectly. The euphoria shoots through me instantly, and I feel bad for Harry when I tighten around him and press my nails further into him, but I can't help it. My moans are muffled by his shoulder when I bite down on it, but it takes only a few moments to get me to achieve the orgasm, Harry's hand holding my head tightly to his body, working me through it.

"Fuck, you're so warm!" he swears loudly, tightening his fingers in my hair and pulling when he begins to orgasm as well, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, a low groan falling from his mouth.

His fingers release my hair from their firm hold when he regains feeling and apologetically smooths my curls back. He gently lays me back down and raises my head to kiss me, slowly pulling out of me.

This is the closest I've felt to Harry in a year. I refuse to let him go after this day, rolling him onto his back and laying on top of him, holding him down. He can't run anymore, and I can't either. I am here with him. Harry is present.

"You are a wonderful fucking woman," he whispers against my mouth after tens of kisses later, tangled in the sheets, hands roaming over my body because he's not yet had enough. "Deadly, but wonderful."

I'm not scared anymore and I'm delighted to see Harry under me, breathing softly, eyes trained on me. I can tell from his expression that he is not scared either.

"I love you," I tell him, my words muffled against his bare chest.

He takes a deep breath, heart beat slowly returning to normal. "And God do I love you, ma femme."

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hauntedmoors · 8 months

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wot s2 final episode today and I'm so glad that the last episode was bad enough to cure me of illness about episodes 5&6

the way people responded to siuan's treatment with fierce defence (of the show) and insisted that her treatment was canonically accurate was so vile and frankly very annoying. multiple users were manufacturing posts that gained a lot of traction saying it was completely in character for her when no, it really wasn't, and they were ignoring her purpose in the narrative to shoehorn her character into stupid and irrelevant stereotypes about her belief in the aes sedai etc especially when in this half of the series you're playing her off against elaida and the black ajah not egwene. I also think lots of assumptions about how the show is doing Everything Right or Capable of Doing Everything Right is a frankly irritating position to occupy when you're trying to analyse media. I'm not interested in engaging with such commentary or such fandom spaces. every paranoid shoehorning of criticism into bookcloak rhetoric is kind of stupid actually. and maybe it says something that lots of people were also lacking in confidence about the position they occupied on the compulsion scene because they were simultaneously calling it a tragedy and trying to rationalise it by subscribing to the compulsion theory. lol. on the other hand people were complaining about others bestowing harsh criticism on compulsion!siuan and not doing the same for rand and moiraine just because they were working with a forsaken. like. that already canonically happened in the books 👍 L + ratio + moiraine was aware that rand was working with asmodean even if he never admitted it and trusted him to do his best + asmodean and moghedien didn’t go through all of that for you to dismiss them so flippantly.

"trust the showrunners" is also one of those insane pieces of advice that seems to be floating around a lot that mean absolutely nothing to me. I don't "trust" any writer. I didn't even trust RJ to do a lot of things right. I analyse something for the merit that it has and if anything I've been frankly very generous with the show because it's not very good, and I say that because the mere quality of the dialogue is very poor a lot of the time, and not necessarily because I don't think it's a bad adaptation (although so far it's brought nothing to the table that the books haven't and it instead handles a lot of themes a lot worse when it bothers to remember those Themes).

all this to say I've been very quiet about the show these past few days because of some of the absurd arguments on my dash. in fact, a refusal to engage with complex motivations of the characters (especially where characters like galad are concerned) are basically what made me stop posting a lot about the books for a couple months or so, and there's nothing that can kill the enthusiasm to engage with the text harder than to be involved in fandom spaces that can't tolerate nuance or criticism of the show. I don't really intend to wot post often after this, and really I think I lingered so long only because I read the books at a time when I was just really vulnerable and needed the escapism or something but I'm no longer mentally ill and thank god for that. and the beautiful wot mutuals that I have you guys did nothing wrong.

anyway! at least we have lanfear played by natasha o'keefe.

#text

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flustered-victorian-gentleman · 6 months

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complaining about the state of modern book covers

In other news, I made a very sad personal discovery about a very niche and stupid topic and need to yell about it

(readmore because shit gets LONG)

I was a HUGE fan of Canadian sci fi trilogy The Quintaglio Ascension back in school. I remember specifically picking up the first book while browsing the school library and being immediately captivated by the cover art.

This shit goes fucking hard. In addition to going hard it's also a useful reference for what the sapient dinosaurs actually look like, since there's no illustrations of them within the book. Obviously the characters describe each other but like, they're all the same species so no one is walking around like "this is my friend Tim he looks like a T.rex with human hands and thumbs and has fingernails instead of claws," so this helps. Here's the other two covers just for our personal entertainment.

Anyway, about last week I remembered the series again out of the blue and wanted to pick it up again because I haven't read them in so long and the cover art is so fire. Enter the tragedy I discovered on my local library website:

What in the hot crispy kentucky fried FUCK is that. HUH????

I am by no means educated in marketing or design but this just seem like...anti-marketing?? This just looks like the most generic sci fi shit I've ever seen. Tells you jack shit about the extremely unique setting, which is kind of the whole fucking HOOK of the series. Is the publishing house EMBARRASSED that the book is about talking space dinosaurs?? Also very misleading considering nobody goes to space at all in this book. Everything is on the ground on one planet.

ALSO CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH BUT THIS COVER IS A FUCKING **SPOILER** FOR A VERY IMPORTANT TWIST LATE IN THE BOOK

So, understandably I was a little miffed. I thought to myself, why don't I just check Amazon instead. I could just purchase the full series with the good cover and keep it forever.

AND IT GOT WORSE ON AMAZON

ok, I'll admit this is better than the library cover. there is at least a Mesozoic reptile here, although we still seem to be coyly hiding the fact that all of our protagonists are dinosaurs for some stupid reason. So this gets a very small pass on account of it's not objectively bad but is still quite lazy and underwhelming compared to the original cover. But this cover in particular isn't why I made this post. Don't worry, the other two covers by this artist (I'm assuming it's the same person?) get steadily worse.

first of all, these silhouettes slapped onto this background looks like shit. on first glance they look decently well integrated into the background, but have a look at the bottom dinosaur. it's just kind of...floating...on the rocks. I would give it a little pass if it was obvious the dinosaurs weren't intended to be part of the environment, but the way they've just slapped silhouetted bargain bin Leaping Laelaps onto the bottom half of the cover makes it seem like they were just hoping you wouldn't look to hard and realize there was no effort made to make them look like they're part of the environment.

For reference, here is Leaping Laelaps, painted by Charles R Knight in 1897. If I were in a kinder mood I'd call the cover a callback or reference to famous paleoart. But the laziness, silhouetting, and weird proportions compared to the Quintaglios in the books makes me feel like they didn't want to come up with an interesting dinosaur pose and just a slapped together a worse-posed version of an existing famous panting with as little detail as possible so they could claim they were doing a reference. I would give them a lot more good faith benefit of the doubt if it was anything other than a silhouette. Don't get me wrong, silhouettes can look very good and add unique visuals to cover art, but it seems very clear to me that that's not what's happening here.

And now for possibly tonight's worst offender.

My first impression was that this shit was just goofy as shit. The clouds hurt to look at (no seriously, take a good look at those clouds) and the pose is so stiff.

Wait.

Hey.

That pose.

I've seen that somewhere before.

And so, like a normal and well-adjusted adult, I rushed to my extensive collection of dinosaur figurines.

Enter the 2005 Papo Tyrannosaurs Rex (Brown).

(taking these pictures off an ebay listing because my figure is waaaay at the back of the Virgin Loser Dinosaur Toys Display Case and moving him would require moving like 30 other figurines)

hey.

HEY.

H E Y WHAT THE FUCK

of course, I can't prove anything in court. i don't have any plans to *do anything* about this. It's just...sad, to me, that thirty years ago we were getting beautiful, detailed, original paintings for book covers. even for niche Canadian space dinosaurs sci fi. and now what. you can't tell me people don't make art anymore, that artists no longer need jobs. I guess we've just decided we don't give a shit anymore. Why not just trace an image of a fucking children's toy instead of drawing a fucking dinosaur. Who cares.

#quintaglio ascension #<- not that this series has an online fandom or anything but you never know #long post #pinning this because I want at least a few people to read this. it's important to me

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bloodgulchblog · 2 years

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How do you feel about Denning's books in general? I personally don't like how he writes John OR Fred.

Lol you caught me complaining about Denning Fred just now, I ended up deleting that post because I feel like I've just been suuuuper negative lately and should try harder to contain it. (How much of me complaining about Halo books does my follower base actually want to see back to back before it becomes obnoxious, right?)

BUT, SINCE YOU ASKED FOR MY CONTROVERSIAL TROY DENNING SPARTAN OPINIONS:

In general: Reading Denning irritates me a lot. I don't like how Denning writes John or Fred either. I talked about this more in my post about Shadows of Reach but my tl;dr re: John is that Denning doesn't do anything interesting with the character or innovate on his thoughts and feelings, he just kind of repeats ideas that were already established a long time ago in the first Halo novels. He doesn't think through or extrapolate much from those ideas, and when he does it feels poorly thought out and dumb to me.

Now. Fred.

It's been a minute since I read Shadows of Reach and Last Light (I just hit the first chapter from Fred's perspective in Retribution and just had to tap out for the evening) so take me with a grain of salt, but: Fred especially suffers because Denning somehow decided he's the funnyman of Blue Team. It wasn't as prevalent in Last Light (or at least I don't think it was?) but it's gotten worse over time, and is not helped by the fact Denning is just not good at humor. (He also suffers from the Denning protagonist problem in that, yet again, Denning's protagonists always feel dumb to me.)

Fred was interesting to me because he contrasts well with John, in what little we get of him. He's more sensitive, more diplomatic, and it's easier for him to reach out to others emotionally. (Ghosts of Onyx has some spots where this stuck out for me.) He thinks and worries a lot, which is something the both of them have in common but Fred is different in how it wears on him because he doesn't have the same level of responsibility as John. I've been digging around trying to find the source and I can't offhand, I think it was in First Strike somewhere, but: Fred is highly capable, he's noted as being just as good as John and sometimes better, but he seems to deliberately not push ahead of others. He prefers to play right hand to John, he'll lead a squad under John but he doesn't want to be the one all the way at the top.

I've always thought that Fred's enormous sense of duty and the absolute seriousness he takes it all with vs his anxiety and how much the weight of others' lives sits heavier on him than it does on John (because Fred has more empathy) were an interesting conflict inside him. It's very Spartan. There's even a scene we get at the end of the updated edition of First Strike where someone from ONI is trying to get him to admit that it scares the hell out of him and has a comms fuckup as evidence. (He doesn't crack, but I feel like it would be a miss to take his insistence at face value in that conversation. We know how hard it was for him on Reach.)

There is none of this that I've seen in Denning writing him, and it's a real loss to me. I really wanted to see something of how losing John and having to fill his boots, a role Fred has always avoided, a role John has always protected him from, had to have affected him and the rest of Blue Team with him. How did Fred cope with that? What did Fred lose by having to cope with that? And I got nothing.

It's probably kind of... something that I'm still hung up on a characterization we have not seen in literally over a decade at this point, and there have been more books with him in them that were like this instead of like that, but also:

I like that a lot better.

#master chief #fred-104 #ask

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v-67 · 6 months

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Completed The cat who saved books by Sosuke Natsukawa and lemme tell you. This is such a beautiful book. It was so beautifully written and the labyrinths so amazingly portrayed.

It was very simple. It stated the obvious things. And it made a point to remind us that The obvious is no longer obvious in today's world. And these words deeply resonated with me.

I'm happy I read this book, and I'd recommend everyone to give it a read too.

Rintaro and his way through the grief, his personal journey, his finding himself, everything about this book has a personal touch. Because we're all humans and in whichever way we deal with things, sometimes things are just, stuck. This book reminds us of things that should be remembered.

I have a lot to say, and maybe what I've said above would not make much sense, but I'm okay with it. So here I'm sharing some of the lines that I loved from this beautiful book.

And some of the lines which deeply resonated with me and some which gave me a reality check.

But whatever it was, he had decided it was time to strike out on his own. There was no such thing as having no choice. Rintaro knew that now. There were many roads to choose from. What was important was not to let yourself roll along aimlessly, but to pick a road.

It’s all very well to read a book, but when you’ve finished, it’s time to set foot in the world.

Reading isn’t only for pleasure or entertainment. Sometimes you need to examine the same lines deeply, read the same sentences over again. Sometimes you sit there, head in hands, only progressing at a painstakingly slow pace. And the result of all this hard work and careful study is that suddenly you’re there and your field of vision expands. It’s like finding a great view at the end of a long climbing trail.

“If you’re going to climb, make it a tall mountain. The view will be so much better.”

In the end, chopped-up sentences were nothing more than fragments.

Hurrying means that you miss out on many things.

“This is the speed at which this song should be heard. Fast-forwarding sucks.”

In our stifling daily lives, we’re all so occupied with ourselves that we stop thinking about others. When a person loses their own heart, they can’t feel another’s pain. They lie, they hurt others, use weaker people as stepping-stones to get ahead—they stop feeling anything. The world has become full of those kinds of people.”

Don’t hurt anyone. Never bully people weaker than yourself. Help out those in need. Some would say that these rules are obvious. But the truth is, the obvious is no longer obvious in today’s world. What’s worse is that some people even ask why. They don’t understand why they shouldn’t hurt other people. It’s not a simple thing to explain. It’s not logical. But if they read books they will understand. It’s far more important than using logic to explain something. Human beings don’t live alone, and a book is a way to show them that.”

Empathy—that’s the power of books.

Walk with courage the path you have chosen. Don’t be one of those bystanders who complains that nothing ever changes. Continue your journey, just as Melos kept running to the end.

“If you find a book easy to read, that means it’s all stuff that you already know,” he went on. “That’s why it’s easy. If you find it difficult, then that’s proof it’s something brand new.”

How can I move on if I don’t believe in myself?

A yellow delivery bicycle went past, bright against the blue of the sky.

A gentle breeze brushed the doorbell, and it gave a cheerful ring.

offering readers a chance to encounter other lives and other points of view via the language of the imagination.

And I'm done, If you've read so far and have some lines from the book that are your favourite, would you like to share them?

I would love to hear them. (⁠^⁠^⁠)

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jourquet · 9 months

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for the 'get to know your fic writer' prompt — 3, 17, 43, & 56 🫶🏼

GET TO KNOW YOUR FIC WRITER PROMPT

3. describe the creative process if writing a chapter/fanfic

usually, i base it on the franchise's genre. for example a halo fanfic, i would follow science-fiction rules about writing the fanfic. such as long chapters, complex or expanded lore, military, politics, and so on.

i'll use maybe half a year studying the plot, characters, and lore. and game it myself if possible. just take my time to reflecting on how i interpret everything.

first at the third stage, i begin to talk to other people in fandon, read others fanfics and headcanons etc. without the groundwork, a proper fanfic can't be written. my spn fanfic readers knows this better than anyone.

i tend to mix half plotting and half pantsing the story with the three main plot not changing. the characters have normally free reign, i do not chain them down as long they get from plot point A to B.

17. what do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

i take a break from writing entirely. indulge in some other fanfics either in same fandom or others. sometimes i play games on my ps5. or watch documentaries, read books (usually classics), manga, cartoons or draw.

i sometimes take fanfics breaks by roleplaying online instead. that way, my writing skills remain sharp.

other times, i go on hikes or travels IRL. or go to the cinema, to the mall to buy stuff or just eat at Baker Brun (mini baker place).

i don't force my writing, ever. that only makes my block worse. i like to write out of habit; that's why i'm dependable about it when i've the energy capacity for it.

43. do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

i do enjoy hurting my characters. i wouldn't have been known as 'the evil writer' without reason. though, for me, is more of a catharsis than actually sadistic enjoyment, because they reflect my own struggles most readers wouldn't pick up on unless i told them about it.

is for a reason my headcanons are rarely, if any, self-inserts. i like to stick to as close to canon as i possibly can. and if that means i've to write scenes the whole fandom will witch hunt me for, i'll. because i write my fanfics to be AS IF THEY WERE ACTUAL CANON from an outsider.

56. what’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

that my readers never in my full life of being a fanfic writer, have complained of my canon characters being ooc. that i've great unique concepts which i actually pull off and do my own research on (though, i still daydream of the day i get to have my own beta readers), and that i've no issue taking criticism about my writing and correct where necessary. only from trusted writer friends and readers, ONLY, however.

that my first two fanfics are completed with 50+ chapters. one of them with 13K reads on wattpad too. 🤍

the praise i've gotten from multiple native speakers over the years, that they could've never guessed i was not american or british because i write well enough to be considered as one of them. this means a lot to me, considering i'm mostly self-taught in english. used so many years reading books far above my age range not understanding anything, and barely passing my english grades. the constant judgement i got for not knowing how to write "i'm" or "you're". to now people sometimes asking me if i live in new york, texas, or london. 🥺 for most of my childhood most of the psychologists believed i had dyslexia too (i never did, i just learned to read by complete/recognize words instead of letter for letter, which was greek to me).

also that i combine my knowledge in classic books and the fact i understand many languages into my writing. it creates an unique writing no AI could ever dream about mimicking. is hard; but i always go the extra mile of deep research. my fanfics are meant to be read for anyone outside it too. and all the extra hours i spend just doing research so the characters feel like real human beings. it's worth it in the end.

and that through all my hardships, i found solace in my writing. i don't know who i would be without it. i found friends, i found community, i found people who genuinely care about me. all because i chose that one night on the plane trip from the US to norway, to learn english. i still have the book i read on that plane trip too ... that propelled to where i'm today in skills.

thank you, all my friends over the years. thank you, all my readers who has stuck by and never lost faith in me. thank you for everything. 🤍

#➤ lev answers

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gaywriting · 2 years

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The Gentleman's Guide to Vice & Virtue book review

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice & Virtue by Mackenzi Lee (2017)

⭐️⭐️⭐️✖️✖️

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go courting trouble, is all.” “We’re not courting trouble,” I say. “Flirting with it, at most.”

this book was given to me by a friend for a birthday gift years ago. i didn't get around to finishing it until July this year. i didn't think i had a lot to say about it, but this is the longest review ive made so far :P

the story follows Henry "Monty" Montague, who were born as his father's heir to the family lordship in 1700s England. Monty struggles with himself and his relationship to his abusive father, who expects him to be the perfect son, and so Monty often seeks escape in life’s easy pleasures. The only person he holds dear is his childhood friend Percy, who he is completely in love with. One summer Monty manages to convince his father to sponsor a Grand Tour around Europe. Monty is excited to spend time with Percy, while Percy is happy to be distracted from the troubles in his life. Oh, and Monty’s sister Felicity is there as well.

this book was lovely! i feel like if i had read this book when i was younger i would have completely lost my mind about it, but alas i am now an old judgemental grandma and so there were some things that didn't impress me too much, which ill speak a little about, but all in all it was a fun book, with the my fav kind of main character (V Chaotic Bisexual) and some fun adventures and interesting plotpoints. i might have gone into it thinking it was a different kind of story (mostly historical and a little vague pinning towards Percy - that's not what we got) but that's on me and tbh you'll never hear me complaining that stuff's too focused on the romance. though i feel like they tried at one point to justify everything with some sort of explainy science, which just made things a little silly in my opinion. the relationship between Monty and Percy was Very cute and there were moments that were super satisfying and lovely to read. however some things that were being said and done that just didn't sit right with me. it's hard to explain properly, since i see where Percy comes from and if this was real life i wouldn't fault him for flipping his shit over Monty's stupid antics, but this is a romance book. And i couldn't help but feel like maybe Percy were being a bit unfairly cruel and mistrusting of Monty in some parts of his points during their arguments. Monty deserved to be called out for his actions but he's also a person who are in an abused living situation and his bad way of behaving were his own way of surviving. it needs to be addressed, and i'm glad it was, but i think it needed to be done with more thought, than just Percy saying cruel untrue things to him. these idiot boys and their horrible communication skills.....

" "Why didn't you tell me?" "Because you're a wreck! Complete shambles. I've spent years chasing you around, making certain you didn't drink yourself to death or pass out in a gutter (...) you've not been yourself. Not for a while. And I couldn't have you making this worse. I'm sorry, I just couldn't." "But you didn't even give me a chance," "(p. 161) wish i could quote this whole argument, i feel like it shows my point really well

"I can't quite wrap my head around this strange reversal between us, because it is always Percy who is the sensible one and me with the feverish notions. But here he is, proposing we run away together with nothing but each other like some sort of star-crossed pair in a broadside ballet, and while my heart is ready to burst for loving him, love is not a thing you can survive on." (p. 429)

idk i do love them both and them growing to figuring out how to open up about their feelings to each other and trust each other were lovely to experience, but i also were kinda more on Monty's side on most of the arguments and i really don't think he deserved That Much shit, like he fucked up a lot but he did it sexily and handsomely so i for one forgive and forget easily. at the end when Percy apologise and Monty tells him he doesn't have anything to be sorry for i sat there like :/ he does tho... honestly i shipped Monty more with the pirate captain Scipio they befriend than with Percy. Scipio, despite his weird name and occupation, were so nice to Monty and so encouraging for him to be a better person AS WELL AS being true to himself. I read The Gentlemans Guide to Getting Lucky (won't be making a whole review on that...) and in that Mackenzi Lee specified that Monty apparently thought of Scipio as a father figure. that shouldn't be a surprise reveal i think, like that should be made obvious through dialog in the actual book.

also "abso-bloody-lutely" is used several times amd doesn't make any sense and brought me completely out of it i hate it

i didn’t dislike this book, i found the romance-y bits absolutely adorable, and Monty is my all time fav kind of character. Mackenzi Lee manages to bring the reader along a crazy adventure around the beautiful places of Europe with amazing characters and with a brilliant sense of humor. and that is why i have bought the second book, that’s Felicity’s story (helps that it's wlw), and ill get around to reading that at some point. i know there’s a third book following the Goblin as well, but we’ll see how i feel about the second book.

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tears-of-boredom · 1 year

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What is the gender when you're afab but you feel like if you were amab you'd be so jealous of guys who do girly things and dress up all pretty and shit, and you would want to be one of them.

Tbh maybe its just that I think my face structure isnt right for that femboy aesthethic. I want to do cute makeup looks in the guy way. I want to wear make up and be called a girl(derogatory) for it.

I want to be amab. Not even a cisman. I want to have been sociliased as "a boy" for my whole life. I don't think that would change my gender in any way, i just would probably feel more comfortable in my own body.

Maybe i would trust my emotions more and not chuck everything up to "girl hormones". Maybe I'd be able to build muscle and feel more confident in my abilities.

I'd rather get misgendered as a boy than a girl.

I'd rather have my attraction to men be interpreted as gay than straight.

I'd rather have my sadness be looked at as hot than weird and pityful.

I want to be considered cool for just wearing earrings.

I don't think I want to grow up with an autism diagnosis though. I don't think my mom would handle it right.

I want to not have to do so much work to look intimidatingly relaxed. I want to not mask around every person.

I almost dont want to have my current autism diagnosis. I feel like in a way it stops people from realising that i just dont have motivation for life, and that I dont avoid school on purpose because of sensory issues or something. I've answered in my life time only 2 of those doctor certified "are you depressed" quizzes. Maybe 5 years ago I just lied my ass off because I "didnt want my mom to think i was depressed", i was so adamant that that wasnt depression. Then maybe 4 years ago i answered one kinda truthfully, saying that i had thought about suicide. I explained to the therapist that it was just in passing, "everybody thinks about killing themselves once in a while". The questionnaire had weirdly specific answers so i didnt put an X further. I think I was aware that my suicidal thoughts were more than passing, but i had this thing -and still do- where no matter what, i refused to call myself depressed. Others had it worse. I didn't even feel like a burden on my family! I didn't even want to harm myself!...Partly I think its because before that,ni had gone through a brief "not like other girls/I'm 14 and this is deep" phase, where i would unironically send those "I'm broken" pictures to people, and I hoped for something tragic to happen to me so i could justify being so angsty. So when i had gotten over that, it left this doubt about my own emotions, after i realised that I hadnt actually been that "broken" or "depressed". It felt like every negative emotion was just willingly made by me, to be that "tragic thing" to justify my angst. I think I wanted to feel sad because I had stopped talking to most of my friends, thinking them too "other girls" like. And i still judged them often, for really just existing as girls and having friends. Maybe i was just jealous how easy they made friendships look. My last word to this E guy was calling him gay. Me and my friend, L, had built this high ground where we predicted what would become of our classmates in the future, and we were so sure that this one guy, who was friends with most of the girls, was gonna come out as gay..in hindsight it was pretty homophobic, but we just saw it as a fact, because we thought we were so much smarter than everybody else. We were going to be the loners that just read books all the time. Self-fulfilling prophecy i guess.

In kindergarten i made friends with these two friends, and then I started complaining to friend K about the other, E, and I started trying to push E out of the friend group and have K all by myself. I didn't realise what I was doing. Then in elementary school, we moved, I went to a school full of strangers that all had been in kindergarten together. First grade I spent just being normal, maybe a bit unaware of other's physical boundaries. In 2nd grade I had a lot of friends, but I was closest to these two, N and L, who were also friends. I did the same thing. I complained about N to L, and a few other people as well. I wasn't fully aware of what I was doing, but I was aware of the jealousy I always felt when the two would spend time together without me. I got agitated over anything N did. We still stayed friends, I think at the end of grade 3 we hugged for the last time. I was succesfull and by 4th grade I had L all to myself. We mostly read beside each other during breaks. I remember wanting a deeper relationship with her, wanting to be able to talk about the many thoughts about shooting myself I had. She wasn't the type to really get deep, at least not with me. We spoke a bit still at the start of 7th grade, clearly farther apart. My school absences broke off the last of our relationship, since neither of us really liked to text or call.

This has been a self-held therapy session for me. Sorry for wasting your time if you actually read through this.

#maybe this will actually help me move on.. idk a girl can dream..#i still have no idea why i felt the need to push people out of friend groups. but it happened twice..#lets hope that tumblr doesnt do an error again. though this time i remembered to take screenshots just in case..#tearful stuff

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benthebeloved · 2 years

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After spending the entirety of the letter grinning and occasionally laughing at some of your statements, Ben gets out his paper, turning to rant to Anakin about you and your letter for about an hour before finally starting to actually write.

Dearest Lili,

My gods, you have some of the most stunning handwriting and character I have ever encountered. Tell me, what is it like to be so interesting? So... unique and full of life? I must say I'm jealous. My boyfriend, Anakin (I'm sure you know him) is rather impressed as well- particularly with the part about... being friends with the Woyen Vora???

Woyen is Anakin's hero. At the end of each week we sit down with takeout and watch Woyen's races and I swear to the Maker every single time that Anakin will end up breaking our glass windows with how loud he cheers (I adore it). And as for Forest?? I am literally the biggest poetry fan you will ever meet. I have all of Forest's books and collections and I actually write poetry myself. I take inspiration from him quite a bit.

Your day-to-day life sounds wonderful, by the way. I long for that sense of... routine. Of knowing that when the sun rises each day, so too will you, with the steadfast assurance of what your day will look like. Unfortunately, with the war, my days are unpredictable. Some days I don't eat breakfast. Other days I don't end up eating until late at night, when I get home. And, of course, when I am on actual missions, my sleeping and eating schedule is even worse.

Typically, however, I wake up quite early whenever I can and read for a bit on the Temple balcony while I sip my tea. I could not live without tea- my life practically revolves around it. Once I've had my tea, I usually get ready for the day, with some meditation and simple exercises before heading out.

Kix is a heathen for telling you I have expensive taste, though he isn't wrong. I... have expensive everything, pretty much. For this letter exchange, I even went out and purchased new ink and a new feather pen. Yes, I know, perhaps a little overboard. But Kix was right on target with that statement.

If you don't mind me asking, it's curious that you know Kix and Crosshair- two very... different sides of a coin, but both very respectable. How do you know them? Where did you meet them (Crosshair in particular, because he's not exactly a social butterfly)?

If you were to ask Anakin what my hobbies were, he would say they were boring. But I shall go to my grave in defense of those hobbies and their value: writing poetry, reading, cooking, baking, and dancing. I'm a big fan of watching holos, as well- I greatly value a night in with some good takeout and a holo binge. Have you ever had Dex's before? My best friend is the owner (Dex, obviously), and I order from there quite often.

To answer your question about my plants, I'm happy to tell you I have just about as many as you. Anakin constantly rolls his eyes and complains, but I know he secretly loves them. Growing up on Tatooine gave him a profound sense of appreciation for water and plants- it's always quite interesting to receive his commentary when I water. If even the slightest drop lands on the carpet rather than the plant, he goes berserk for 'wasting water'. He's a darling, but very, very picky about that sort of stuff.

I know you've been debating getting a cat, but I am here to tell you that your debate should be over- get the cat. You will not regret it. I've got a pet dragon, her name is Boga. She is... everything I could have asked for in a friendly companion. Truly, I believe pets and animals in general are one of the greatest blessings the Maker could have given us.

Please do tell me how both the poetry reading and the podrace went. Even though I will most likely have watched the race by now, I still want to know how it went on your end. Your experiences and the way you speak about things intrigue me.

This letter should be taped to your Pyrex, which I literally had to bully Crosshair for. You're welcome. I still think that's hilarious, by the way. Your friendship with him.

Anyway, until you write next, I hope you have a wonderful few days and your life at the District treats you well. Perhaps, when I have a free day, I will wander over there and check out your shop. I would love to have a face to go with my new friend.

Anakin says hello, and that he would beat me up if I didn't put that in the letter- my sincerest apologies.

Until next time, darling.

Yours,

Ben

He sends the letter in the mail, the envelope - and your Pyrex - once again being delivered to your mailbox the very next day.

I beam at the sight of my Pyrex and giggle at my store counter as I read his letter, gasping at the certain parts about Anakin.

It takes me two days to respond, once again walking the letter up to the Temple myself before heading back home.

Dear Ben,

Oh my goodness your last letter made me laugh so loud that Aiden called over to see what it was!

I certainly don’t feel as interesting as you make me out to be, I just have very cool friends! I tend to think I am very lucky to be surrounded by such lovely people every day. I really love my family.

As for how I know Woyen, there’s a parts shop down here for droids, speeders, pods, essentially anything you might need in that aspect. Apparently Woyen was looking to modify his pod and needed a specific part so he came down to grab it! I was in Ralph’s (the shop) that day and we just got to talking and he invited me to his race and we’ve been friends ever since. Let me tell you, podracing after parties? The literal wildest thing you will ever see! Anakin Skywalker will be happy to know that Woyen has a poster of him in his living room, as Skywalker is Woyen’s favorite racer! (How funny!!)

For Forest, it’s quite a similar tale. I don’t know if you remember my last letter, but I mentioned I sell journals and things. He came by looking for a specific type of paper and we started talking and I invited him to paint night because he had never picked up a brush before, only a pen! Imagine that! We’ve been friends since.

My friend Fern, she’s quite the activist. I know all about the war through her and I’m sorry that it affects you so very personally. I’ve never understood why they turned your Order into the soldiers that protect us all, though we are grateful for it. I think your regular day-to-day sounds very peaceful and I’m jealous you like tea, I happen to not be able to drink the plant-y taste, and I’ve tried so many! I’m a very boring water and milk drinker.

As for how I know my lovely friends, the clones, well those are quite good stories as well. Kix, the dear, is the boyfriend of one of my very best friends and she is two months along with their baby! Kix joins our family hang-outs and I go with her to her doctors appointments when he cannot go! For Crosshair, he just showed up to one of my drawing classes for adults. He was very shy, hardly talked, but very sweet. He comes in almost once a week to talk and to quietly sketch next to me as I run my store. He says he likes the atmosphere and that it’s quiet enough for him to actually focus. Sometimes he brings his gun and cleans it, which I think is cool. One time he brought his armor and let me put it on!!

I think your hobbies sound wonderful and I’m so pleasantly surprised you write poetry! As a gift, I’ve gotten Forest to write an inscription on a new journal for you to write in, that I’ve included in the small package with this letter. I had Woyen sign a jersey for Skywalker as well, though I had to guess his size. I hope? Large? Is okay? He is… tall…

I’ve never had Dex’s! Though I ordered some just last night. The milkshakes???? Fantastic. So good! My friends and I all ordered it for family game night and everyone agreed that it’s wonderful.

Skywalker sounds like he would be intrigued with how I water my plants, so I feel the need to explain it. When I want to water them, I pull a cord that makes thunder sound and then a series of small pipes start to pour water into each pot. It’s like my own little personal rain storm! I can assure that it’s also very accurate and no water goes to waist. Any run off from the pots gets reused. :)

I did as you agreed I should, an got a cat! His name is Midnight as he is all black with startling blue eyes, I adore him. He’s seven years old and the calmest boy there is in the whole galaxy. He is a good snuggle partner at night, which is always so nice.

THE PODRACE WAS GREAT! Woyen set me on the ground floor and he took me for a lap around the track when everybody finally left, it was so awesome. He even let me drive slowly around once, though he’s quite the mother hen when it comes to his pod. (I don’t blame him one bit.) The poetry reading was also stupendous and Forest really read quite a few of his more emotional pieces. I was really proud of him. He came over for pie after.

Thank you for my Pyrex!!! I’ve been asking for weeks! That is the last time I make French toast for Crosshair and his brothers… lying dog.

Return my hello to Skywalker! Tell him I hope he likes the jersey!

I hope you have a very good week and that good things come your way.

Love,

Lili

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curseofaphrodite · 2 years

Text

norse gods and magazines

summary: mission score-a-date was officially on. | written for mailcarrier event organized by the very lovely @burnthoneymint and @leydileyla! join our server here!

[fem!pronouns, fluff]

I'm a powerful god. POWERFUL. I can do this. Asking someone out on a date can't be worse than anything I've done before.

"Did you get stuck with the mailman duty?" you asked, trying to fight back a laugh. Loki stared back unamused.

"Short answer, yes." He sighed, holding a stack of books forward, "Now take these before I dump them on Stark's head."

"Oh please you secretly like being here," you pointed out. "Think of it as a vacation. Earth isn't all that bad."

I know, he thought.

"Being exiled from my kingdom by my own father isn't bad? You're right! I should be dancing with joy!" he said in mock-happiness. "I do admit it has certain advantages... there's something I want to—"

You raised an eyebrow as he broke off his words.

"Yes?"

"Uhm," he blinked. Dinner. Just say it. DINNER.

"Loki?"

Nope. Not doing it. Would be awkward to ask you after such a big pause. He needed an opening. God, how he wished you would invite him in!

"Get in, you look like hell," you said, pointing to the hallway.

"I beg your pardon?" Did you just read my mind?

"Yes, yes you're a god blah blah, but you are exhausted. Atleast get yourself a glass of water before you faint in my front yard."

"Fine, but only because I'd rather jump into a pit of fire than go back to Stark's office."

This time, a laugh did slip out of your mouth. He scowled, though he didn't complain. It was that laugh that got him into this mess in the first place. Loki had unknowingly fallen heads over heels for you the very first time he saw you (which was years ago). Maybe it was the way you brightened up the room, cracked bad jokes, or your adorable clumsiness. Whatever it was pulled him in and didn't let go. He thought he wouldn't see you again, but his father had terrible timing.

He strode in determinedly. Whatever Loki wants, he usually got it. And right now, he wanted to take you out on a date. Who cares if it'll go horribly wrong?

"I should have stayed in space," Loki said, plopping down on the couch. The green contrasted all your beige furniture. It felt oddly perfect.

"Don't be ridiculous, you don't know any other planet than Earth."

"I could have tried to find one if Thor hadn't put me in shackles!"

"He just asked if you wanted a place to stay and you said yes. You lie so much it's surprising you're not bored of it yet."

"I never lie!" he said, gasping dramatically. "He said he'll find me a place to stay, not make me Stark's responsibility. He certainly didn't mention anything about me being a postman!"

"Thor doesn't have a place to stay on Earth either and Tony's just being cautious. Could you blame them? You're not known for being the warmest guest."

"I despise mortals," he grumbled, cracking his neck with his eyes closed. An innocent gesture, but one that made you stare a little too much.

Stupid, you scolded yourself and stood up. "I'm also a mortal, you know."

"I tolerate you. That doesn't make you any less annoying." Wow, way to flirt.

"I'll bring you tea," you snapped, storming off to the kitchen.

"Don't add too many sweet cubes!"

"You'll be lucky if I don't add poison!" your voice yelled back.

He smiled then. Humans were incredibly stubborn, he had to give them that. He looked around the room he was sitting on, eyes not missing everything.

The strange trinkets on your table (a ticking clock and TV remote), the rectangle box which occasionally glowed up with words that made no sense to him (your phone), the flowers which never withered (plastic ones) — he was fascinated by all of them.

He spotted a set of photographs on your shelf and stood up without thinking to take a closer look. Just as he reached his hand forwards to touch the frame, something the speed of a firework ran between his legs, making him completely lose his balance. He knocked down the pictures instead, causing you to run back to the scene.

"You got a cat," Loki noted, face down on the floor.

"One minute in and you're already ruining my decor," you said, sighing. You put down the gloves you were using in the kitchen, then gave him a hand to get up. He did so begrudgingly. "His name is Salem by the way. My cat."

"Ah," he put on an interested expression, but he couldn't care less. Any creature who made him look like a fool in front of his crush was not someone he wanted to be on a first-name basis.

"Listen," he said impulsively. "About what I wanted to say earlier, I—"

A sneer interrupted his words.

"Sorry," you giggled, patting Salem's head. "He's doing the Boyfriend Snarl."

"The what?"

"Anytime I bring over a guy I like, he does this just to scare them off."

"A cat…scares off the guys you like?"

"The snarls doesn't. The next step is how he bites them."

Loki involuntarily took a step back. You laughed again.

"You don't have to worry. You're not my date."

"Right…and does he bite now or later?"

"He won't bite you. Would you now Salem?" you asked affectionately. Loki could swear the cat smiled wickedly. He gulped.

Fine, FINE. You win, I'll just ask her out tomorrow. You furry, adorable menace.

"I'll take you up on the tea later." He stated, pointing to the door. "Judging by the number of magazines you read, I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

"Oh, okay." You were a little disappointed, but you hid it well. Just as he was about to turn, you spoke up again. "Would you like a tour guide?"

He almost grinned. "Pardon?"

"Earth is very much new to you. Maybe I could show you around later? Even go shopping? It'll be fun!"

"Dinner." He said abruptly.

"What?"

"We should have dinner after," he added.

"Deal," you smiled. "Now you better run before—"

"Your cat kills me? I figured. Bye!" He turned on his heels and burst into green smoke.

Salem hissed under his breath, as if to say — all your boyfriends are scaredy cats.

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x you #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #astoria writes #fluff #imagines #loki imagines #fem!reader #loki x fem!reader #mcu #marvel #.mailcarrier may

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coloricioso · 2 years

Note

Hi!!! I’m wondering if maybe your story might do better on Archive of Our Own?!? Fanfiction .net unfortunately isn’t too popular anymore and tagging and finding things is so much easier on there. Don’t give up! I love your art! Your Persephone style makes me smile so much because she reminds me of me and it’s hard to find art of Greek gods that actually look Greek and I can feel represented by ❤️

Hi! thank you so much, that means a lot to me <3! I do my best to have Persephone and the other gods looking as Ancient Greek as possible :3 !!❤️ And is awesome that she looks like you and you can feel represented! :D!!

About publishing on a different site, I'm not sure, I will think about AO3, but right now I'm too hurt and want to keep my distance for a while.

I've spent years trying to publish my book and everything fails and I'm on my own. I wish I could be like Disney's Hercules who had Phil and Pegasus by his side to cheer him up, you know xD. I'm alone all the time with all my fears and insecurities and the Internet makes everything worse. Like, I keep posting things and I know thousands of people see it (because of the statistics tools) and is like... 1 or 2 people comment and that's it. I know recognition from other people doesn't change the value of my artwork, but the thing is that, if I want to publish a book I do need an audience that buys the book.

Last year I gave away many copies of the book as gifts and people who got the book didn't even read it so... I feel like if my own friends or people who begged to have the book didn't read it, what am I going to sell? Like, why would I keep wasting money on this "project" if later no one is going to buy it on Amazon anyway? I can't make it to have at least 5 people commenting on a chapter on FanFiction or Wattpad, how the hell am I going to sell a book? I've failed to sell most of the merchandising I did with my artwork too (thankfully someone awesome bought 2 watercolors today and I'm happy about that).

I don't like playing the victim and complaining so much, but the whole process of trying to turn this novel into a real published book is killing me. I'm depressed and feel lonely most of the time. And, what makes me sad is that... like, it's not a bad book, it's not bad art, and even if it were bad, there are so many people who manage to sell their stuff, why it can't be me too? I've spent so many years on this, trying different ways and nothing works. And every time I give up and then say, "ok let's try again" and then I fail again, get depressed again, and it's a rollercoaster that is driving me crazy. So I no longer know what to do rather than give up for once (though that is awfully painful too).

I think the saddest part is that I tried to praise all the Theoi in my novel VS the average Greek-myth content online where gods are badly depicted, and... well, still no luck for me. That feels sad on a spiritual level too :(

#sorry for rambling #tw long text #tw sadness

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sillydg · 3 years

Text

Unfulfilled Hunger: Tobias X MC

Book: Open heart, somewhere in book 3

Rating: 18+ (Adult content!)

Pairing: Tobias X MC ((Elisabeth Sarah Hughes (Liz))

Title: Unfulfilled Hunger

Rating: Explicit NSFW 18 + Only

Wordcount: 6500

Summary: Thank you so much for your request, @kachrisberry, to write what happens if they get back at Tobias’s apartment, after him carrying her out of the Laser tag game. A follow-up, for “Foul Play”.

Category: Explicit Smut

A/N: First of all, I find it important to say that both Liz and Tobias feel safe to protect their own boundaries and to speak up if something is not too their likings. They're both adults and both are completely comfortable and wanting to engage in each of these activities. A/N: This one ended up a bit longer than anticipated (Pun intended). But I got my hands on Tobias.. and maaaaaybe got a little bit carried away... But no, nah, not going to apologize for that 😉. Please let me know if you guys enjoyed the ride and please sent me an ask if you want to request something for OH or The royal romance, because I loved writing this and I'll hope you enjoy reading it.

Warnings: Foul language (sexy talk and swearing), Explicit adult seksual content. IF you read this FF, you confirm that you're 18 years or older.

Tobias and MC belong to Pixelberry.

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

Unfulfilled Hunger

Tobias opens his door with one hand, pulling Liz through with the other. “It’s a goddamn miracle that we got home in one piece, Hughes." He slams the door and pushes her against it, crashing his lips against her...

Murmering he continuous; “You almost fucking killed me by touching yourself like that in the car." His hands drifting over her body. "For god's sake, you already came once and I almost caused an accident by just looking at you trembling like that in the frontseat.”

Liz grins as he moves his kisses to her neck. “I had to do something, since I was not allowed to touch you. Besides, I simply HAD to touch myself at the sight of you.” She kicks off her boots.

Tobias bites her neck with a groan. “Ohhh, you dirty, dirty girl.”

Grinning she pushes him away, making him bump into the wall across from her.

“Off with the shirt, Carrick.”

“So commanding.” He gives her a cheeky smile. Such a turn-on.

“For a woman who was first complaining about me getting my shirt off… you changed your mind pretty quickly.”

“Oh save it, Carrick.” She tugs at his shirt, trying to take it off herself.

He grabs her wrists, turning her around. "Oh. I don't think so, Liz." He pins her against the wall with her hands up in the air.

“Now, I believe I was enjoying myself.” His lips find her neck again.

“For god's sake, T. Stop torturing me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all week after that little stunt you pulled .

Standing bare chested in front of me, but holding my hands so there was no way of touching you. Brushing your delicious lips against mine, without giving me the slightest taste of your tongue. All I could think of was touching, tasting, savoring you. For god's sake, I know you've noticed me undressing you with my eyes.”

Tobias looks up, meeting her eyes with a twinkle. “Ooooh, was that what you were doing during our daily meetings. I already wondered what you were thinking about when you stared at me like that, biting on your pen. Licking your cherry red lips.”

“Ohh, You very well knew, T. Because you were walking around 24-7 with that goddam annoyingly sexy, self-conscious smirk on that way too handsome face of yours.

God. I had to touch myself every night, when I was lying in bed. Desperate attempt, after desperate attempt to satisfy the hunger you released in me. But it never seemed enough. I'm so fucking hungry for you, Carrick. ”

He leans back to meet her gaze, his eyes filled with longing and frustration. She feels her knees getting weak at the intensity of him staring at her, glad to be pinned against the wall. “Well, it serves you right, Liz.”

He breaks the gaze and unbuttons her short with one hand, letting it slide onto the ground. His hand moves into her red lacy panties, softly stroking her lips, teasing her inner thighs. He smiles at the feeling how wet she already is for him and he lowers his mouth to her ear, whispering; “Now you know how I felt over the past few months, Liz. It started when I first saw you in that deli, with your messy bun and yoga pants.

It became worse after the fire I saw in your eyes when we met at Bloom. You were so snarky at me, Liz. I wanted to bend you over the table, pull up that way to the tight dress of yours, and give you a good spank, just to let you know who’s the boss. And believe me... It sure isn’t Ethan.

But things got really messy from the moment I saw you in that short at the baseball field." He lowers his voice to what almost sounds like a deep growl; "You know why I missed every freaking ball that day, Liz?”

She groans as he moves his hand out of her string.

“Because every time you threw the ball, your shirt would come up ever so slightly and showed this little part of your belly and the fucking lacy edge of your little pink thong.” He moves his fingertip over her sensitive skin right above her panties and she lets out a soft moan.

His hand disappears again in search of her clit, moving softly and slowly. Taking his sweet, sweet time to find the right spot.

The roughness of his stubble, the tickling of his husky voice, and now him touching her at her most sensitive spot... She feels a warmth quickly spreading through her body.

“You ruined me that day, Hughes.” He gently moves two fingers inside her, still drawing slow, sweet circles over her clit with his thumb. Her breath enhances, and he feels her contracting around his fingers.

“I’ve been touching myself ever since at the thought of dropping the bat and taking you right there on the field. Not caring who sees me, trusting into you, making you mine.

So it serves you right.”

He leans back again to take look at her. Her eyes are closed, completely at his mercy. His lips find hers in a slow, deep kiss, and he feels how close she gets to release. He murmurs to her lips. “Not yet, Hughes.”

He abruptly lets go of her wrist, letting his hand slip out her briefs. Leaving her breathing hard as her arms fall, startled at the sudden movement.

He walks away towards the living room, and right before he disappears, he gives her a million-dollar smirk over his shoulder. And after just a second she sees his shirt flying into the hallway.

Trying to compose herself from almost getting pushed over the edge, she leans against the wall. After a few deep breaths, she kicks the short off her feet, following him into the living room. So, we're still playing dirty.

She finds Tobias casually leaning against the counter, a drink in his hand. She swallows as she takes him in. Her eyes drift over his toned brawnylicous abs, moving down to his pants which are hanging dangerously low on his hips, just enough to make her thoughts go wild, but not enough to reveal anything.

She smiles cheekily, trying to hide how taken she is with the sight of him. God, his ego might explode if he only knew. “So, where Is my drink?”

He gives her his signature smirk. “Well, I thought, since I’ve taken my shirt off, I’m going to enjoy a drink while I watch you take your shirt off.. and after that, we can talk about you having a drink.” He moves towards the large breakfast counter and jumps to sit on it, clearly expecting a show.

She turns around, smiling over her shoulder. "Careful what you are wishing for, Carrick. Sure you can handle me?" She starts to move her hips slowly from side to side.

Tobias bites his lip as he looks at her perfectly shaped ass, dressed ever so little by the red lace string she is wearing. As she lets her hands drift over her rounds, he follows her hands up as they grip onto her small tank top. And with one fluid pull, it falls on the ground, right where he likes it to be.

He glances at her as she turns around, showing off her matching set, with all the curves in the right places. He is surprised to see that her bra is practically one small piece of fabric, adoring the sight of her nipples shining and peaking through the red lace.

Smirking, he moves his hand over his chest. “You cheeky Minx. You planned this, didn’t you? Or are you always wearing these matching lingerie sets..”

She sways forward, smiling seductively. Tobias's eyes are completely fixated on her breasts, slowly moving down to her swaying hips and back up, not able to determine where to look.

“I think I’m going to let you find that out for yourself. It might surprise you how diverse my lingerie is… So I suggest you undress me every day from now on…”

He swallows; “God, where have you been hiding, Hughes?”

Shrugging casualy, she cocks up an eyebrow.

“Now about that drink, T.”

He gets ready to jump off the counter, but she stops him. “Oooh no Carrick... you stay... right there, like the good boy you are.” She moves to stand between his legs. “Now, let me take care of this for you.” She tucks on his jeans, pulling them off.

“My, my, what a treat.” She moves her hand over the big bulk in his boxers and smiles. "And you dare to ask, where I've been hiding, T?"

He lets out a deep moan as she keeps caressing him. He leans backward on his hands, giving in to the feeling. She gives him a cheeky smile, puts his legs together, her hands onto the counter, and straddles him after one effortless jump."

Caught off-guard he starts to stumble, looking at the woman suddenly at his eye-level. “What the..”

“Ohh Carrick, Carrick, Carrick” She kisses him softly, teasing his lips with her tongue. Holding herself steady with her hands on his chest, slowly grinding her pussy against his hard cock through his boxers. After a few minutes of exploring, she encourages him to lie on his back. Tongues still dancing and she feels him gasp, the moment he touches the cold marble with his bare skin.

While pulling back, she keeps the friction going, and not only for his pleasure. “I might have forgotten to tell you… But I love yoga, it’s not just the comfortable pants for me. And I might have done gymnastics for a big part of my life. So if you keep up the good work, Carrick, you might get the chance to find out how flexible I really am.”

“For god’s sake,” he murmurs under his breath. She keeps rubbing herself against his hard length, not quite enough to take him over the edge, but enough to let him balance on it...

“Now, I need you to move up, Carrick. I want this whole divine body of yours onto this counter.”

He smirks; "What makes you think that you're the one in control, Hughes? Remember what happened earlier when you tried to command me? Or do I need to refresh your memorie?"

A sly smile appears on her face; "It must be nice, living in that head of yours T. Still convinced you're the one in control? Let me give you a piece of reality, mister." She removes his boxer, throwing it through the living room.

She smirks as they lock eyes, anticipation noticeable on Tobias's face. Of course, the moment he saw her at the deli was the moment where she completely gained control over him. Haunting his dreams, fantasies, and even in bed with other women she regularly popped up in his head, making stuff a lot better. But that doesn't stop him from one last desperate attempt to keep the facade up.

She encircles him with her soft hands, slowly moving up and down, while teasing his tip with a few small, fast licks.

"Nnnghh."

"What was that, Carrick?"

"Oh for fuck sake."

She moves her hand down, following the line under his tip firmly with her tongue. It makes his muscles tense, and he moves his ass slightly up as a deep grunt escapes his throat. “Ohhhhh, Yes Liz.”

Smirking she looks down at the man beneath her. "Now, If you want me to keep doing that, you better move that delicious ass of yours right now, T!"

He starts moving while muttering some swear words under his breath, while she keeps teasing him with her hands and tongue.

Her eyes twinkle and she puts on a naughty smile;“God Carrick, I’m going to have so much fun with you now we have established who is the one in charge.”

She leans in, one hand on the counter and the other one exploring his neck, down to his chest. Licking his lips, inviting his tongue to meet hers. He opens his mouth and lets her in. His hands slipping under her bra, softly teasing her nipples, drawing small moans from her mouth.

Without him noticing she grabs his drink off the counter and she gently pulls back. Their blues meet and she bites her lip. “Now, about that drink.”

His breath stops as soon as the golden liquid hits his chest. She pours it, bit by bit, between the gap in his abbs, slowly moving down to his belly button, her eyes never leaving his.

“Hughes, you’re unbelievable.”

“You better know it, T.”

She puts the glass down, moving her attention to his chest as she softly let her fingers drift through the scotch. She moves her finger to cover his full lips, kissing him softly after.

“Mmh... That’s the good stuff, Carrick.”

She moves her tongue, licking the liquid of his chest, feeling his muscles flex under her touch wherever she goes.

He looks at her, hypnotized, his breath fastening as she slowly moves further and further down. Skin getting more sensitive with every lick, bite and suck as she savors the scotch off him. Oh my god.

His muscles tense as she arrives at his belly button, and when there is no drop left, she moves her focus to his lower abdomen. She looks up, as she hears him moan, smiling at the sight of his glistering abs and the pleasure showing on his face.

He groans; “Oh God, you really are enjoying my body, don't you Hughes?”

“Every fucking part of it..”

"Good, 'cause it's yours to use from now on. Whenever you want, I'll even get you your special beeper for emergencies."

"I'll hold you onto that. Now... ready for some fun, Carrick?"

He smirks contently as she moves her head further down and starts teasing the top of his hardness again.

But then he realizes that it probably would take nothing more than a few sucks to release, given how worked up he already is.

And nothing was further from the truth. Without warning, she stopped teasing, taking his full length in her mouth. After a few seconds of settlement, she starts deep throating him, and before he gets the chance to protest it turns black before his eyes, pushing his head back and he releases in her mouth.

She teases him with a few more sucks, making sure that every drop of him gets savored while enjoying the feeling of his body trembling under her mouth. For a minute he lies on the counter, breathing hard. "For fuck sake, Hughes."

She shrugs with a sly smile "Oops, got a little bit carried away there."

He slowly starts to get regain his senses and he looks up to a smirking Liz, sticking out cheekily the tip of her tongue.

“But, damn, that tasted even better than the scotch T.”

He hides his face behind his hands to hide a satisfied smile at her bold words.

After just a few more deep breaths, he manages to collect himself and jumps off the counter. “Glad that you enjoyed that, Liz, but now it’s my turn.” He scoops her up from the counter and throws her over his shoulder without any effort. Oh, I’m taking back control now.

After a few satisfying smacks on her butt, he sits down on the bed, letting her slide down on his lap. His lips find hers and he starts to unhook her bra, throwing it into a corner. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth while teasing the other with his hand. Her head falls back as she starts to grind once again in his lap. “Oh, God Tobias I already feel you grow again.” She reaches out to stroke him, but to avoid losing control once again he stands up, grabbing her at her thighs, and he throws her onto the soft bed.

“No more touching me, until I’m done with you, Liz. That means AFTER two orgasms, I’m going to fuck your brains out. But now. You’re completely at my Mercy." She nods, biting her lip. "Good girl. Now, grab the headboard, and don’t let go.”

Her eyes start to glister at the commanding tone in his voice and she completely surrenders. Obediently she grabs the headboard.

“And Liz... Don’t make a sound, until I tell you to.”

She swallows and a hot shiver runs through her body, by hearing those words, setting her body on fire. Such a turn-on.

He rips her panties off in one tuck, drawing her in for a deep kiss, while teasing her entrance with his erection. He starts to rubs his dick against her clit. Taken by the urge to feel him closer she starts to shift her hips up, urging him to enter her. Without thinking she sighs between kisses. “God Carrick, I... I need you inside me. I need to feel you deep inside me.”

He immediately stops. “What was that? I believe I heard some sounds coming out of that delicious mouth of yours. Yeah, you want me inside you?”

Realizing that she spoke, her eyes snap open, sucking in a breath while waiting for Tobias to react.

“Three orgasms, it is now.” And without further notice, his lips crash against hers again. His hands firmly exploring her body before they find the place where he started tonight.

He wastes no time, knowing how worked up she was before. His thumb finds her clit, and he sees her biting her arm as he enters her with three fingers, suppressing a moan. God, that’s sexy. He catches the encouragement and starts to moves his fingers faster and faster while sucking on her swollen nipple, caressing her other boob with a firm squeeze.

She trembles, more and more under his touch, finding it harder and harder to keep her moans in. God, she wants to scream his name so badly.

Then he softly bites her nipple and a flick of pain runs through her body, turning quickly into pleasure as she tumbles over the edge, biting even harder in her shoulder, only intensifying her orgasm.

He smirks at her, impressed, but also totally captivated by the look on her face as she comes, shutters and shakes, by his doing. Yeah, I’m never going to get enough of this.

He gives her a few seconds to catch her breath and damn she breaths hard, releasing her arm from her teeth, leaving bite marks.

He gently moves up to guide both of her arms down, which are still clenching to the headboard. He kisses her softly as she opens her eyes to meet his. “You okay?”

She smiles softly and nods. “Good. Ready for me to taste you?” She mouths “Ohh God Yes” without making a sound.

They keep staring into each other’s eyes as the mood shifts 180 degrees. Tobias frowns at her as she takes his face in her hands, knowing very well how much she actually adored this man.

His eyes turn soft and he smiles at her. "You're amazing, you know that, Liz?"

"Show me."

Tobias moves in for a tender and long kiss, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Liz feels her heartbeat rising, now by the soft touch of this man. He covers her body with hers completely as they start to lose themselves in each other. Her hands drift over the back of his head, enjoying the tickling of his soft short hairs, before letting her fingertips drift over his bareback. He slowly undoes her hair and drapes it over the mattress. Their hands meet and fingers entwining. The pillows and sheets are long found on the ground. He drops soft kisses on her neck, murmuring "God, youre beautiful."

He gently lets go of her hands and starts moving, teasing his stubble against her sensitive skin on his way down, breathing in her warm scent on the way. He looks at her glistening clit and gives it a few quick licks.

She directly moves her hips a bit up and he realizes how sensitive she is.

“I can’t wait for you to scream my name, Hughes.” She smiles at the permission to make sounds again.

“Then make me, Carrick.”

He moves his hands up to her hips, pulling her softly towards the edge of the bed as he gets on his knees, laying her legs over his shoulder. He starts licking her softly and slowly, savoring her smell and fluids.

“I need more, T.” She softly grabs his head urging him to come closer. He smiles cheekily and pushes his head back up; “I’m sorry? I believe I missed two magic words?”

“More, PLEASE Carrick, give me more.”

"That's what I'm talking about."

He starts licking and kissing again, but still moving his tong teasingly slow and soft while looking cheekily up to her.

She looks down to meets his eye, and he gives her the sexiest smirk she has ever laid eyes on. “For god's sake Carrick, if you’re going to smirk like that every time you taste me..” He suddenly moves up the pace of his tongue, forcing her to stop talking midsentence. "Nnnngh."

“Yes? Then?” He smiles against her clit, back to teasing her.

“Now you're the one who is unbelievable, T."

"Don't tell me things I'm already aware of. Now, finish that sentence, Hughes."

She sighs, longing for more tongue. "We are going to need a private conversation like this at least two times a day.”

He keeps his smirking up; “Then that's settled” He pushes his head down and lets his tong flick expertly, fast, and firm, letting his fingers assist by moving in and out of her.

“Nnnnhhhhgggg… T..” Her hands grab the sheets and he lets his finger slip out of her, to pull her even closer, steadying her hips. He picks up pase, encouraged by the deep moans. She trembles more and more, urging to move her hips, but his stern grip keeps her in place. You’re not getting away, Hughes.

She starts to move her hands, looking for something to grab as the sheets are not enough to hold onto. Her hands find his head again.

“Fuuuuuuck Carrrrrriccck.”

Yes, that’s it.

She pulls up her knees, body shocking and sweating, and he feels how she comes with his mouth still on her. Seeing her tremble like that...

God, I can’t wait any longer.

“You taste so good, you know that Hughes. Here. Taste.” He kisses her slowly, his hands encircling the back of her neck to draw her even more in, his dick rubbing against her still sensitive pussy, causing her to keep shuttering her body from time to time.

“Are you ready? You've been such a good girl, so I will fuck you towards you’re third orgasm, Liz, don’t you worry.”

Still with her eyes closed, she nods and lets out a satisfied sigh, letting him lead her up on the bed again.

As he completely covers her body with his again he places his dick before her entrance. Theirs eyes meet, both filled with longing to finally get close. She softly moves her hands behind his neck, teasing him with her nails. Maintaining eye contact he slowly starts to move inside her, until his eyes roll back at the feeling of how tight she is.

Her breath enhances, and she smiles, enjoying the visible pleasure on his face. He keeps slowly moving against her until he fills her completely.

Her eyelids start to flicker as he slowly starts thrusting into her.

“God, you’re big, Carrick.” She matches the movement of her hips to his rhythm, moving her legs around his waist to encourage him to go deeper. His lips find hers as he picks up the pace until he is not able to hold his upper body up, with the pleasures running through his body.

He lets out a deep, almost animalistic moan; "So tight Liz, you're so tight."

Leaving her lips and he hides his face in her neck, sucking at her sensitive flesh, leaving his mark.

Her nails slide from his shoulders to his back and smiles against his ear. “Fuck, this is so much better than in the dreams I had about you... T, you fill me up perfectly.”

She feels how he starts to lose control, picking up his pace, more firm with his thrusts as she speaks.

His voice sounds low and gruff. “Ahhh... You've dreamt about me, Hughes? So what did I do to you in these dreams?”

With him putting more power in his thrusts, she feels how he is hitting the right spot over and over again and she moans. “O god yes, Tobias… You... you fucked me in the middle of the diagnostics room on the round table, the next day in the supplies closet, NHHHGGG, on fucking Ethan’s desk, when the rest was out for lunch.”

“Ohhhhh Yes Hughes.” He moves his hands between them, as he keeps thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster while massaging her clit.

Liz is unable to talk as she feels how her body is taken over by the pleasure, quickly rising from her toes to her head, closing her eyes and she certainly was not able to think straight anymore... “Youuu... You… yyy… test nnnnhg lab”

“What are you saying, Hughes?” He smirks, leaning on one arm looking at the woman crumbling to pieces under him. He tries to stall his orgasm, but it gets harder and harder at the sight of her losing her mind, combined with the sexy talk rolling over her swollen lips.

He takes her breasts in his mouth, murmuring “Come on baby, let go once more. Show me that beautiful look on your face.”

His words were enough to push her over the edge, he notices, leaving her breast and again hiding his head in the crook of her neck. Biting, sucking as she encourages his thrusting, drawing blood with her nails on his back.

“Fuuuuuuck yeah, Carrick.”

He feels her pussy contracting around him and lets out a deep groan. He wants to savor the feeling, but the damn release was so close, it was unfightable.

“I need you to fill me up, T. Please... I need you to come.”

He keeps thrusting, barely managing to hold it together as she keeps stumbling each time he slams into her. "Nhhhhhhgggg, Liz, God Liz."

She grabs his head out of her neck, to make him look up, straight in her sparkly, wanting eyes and he keeps thrusting into her, while barely able to hold his own body up while leaning on his hands.

“Fulfill the hunger, Carrick… still my appetite. ”

Holy fuck.

That was it, he feels how he is not able to fight it anymore and he releases, A deep groan escapes, filling her up, like as she wanted it.

His eyes rolling backward “Gnnnnnggg Hughes, for fuck sake…” He sinks through his arms and after a few more thrusts he holds still, both breathing hard, clenching onto each other. After a few minutes, he gives her a bunch of soft kisses on her forehead, before rolling to the side.

“You’re something else, Liz.” He gently grabs her arm, to place soft kisses on the bite mark.

She smiles, still out of breath. “You know, I expected more oooh Lara and ooooh Miss Croft.”

He snorts and she looks at him in surprise.

“You know what Hughes…” He moves his fingertips over her bare body, encircling her nipples before ending at her lips. He smiles softly and just stares at her in awe.

“Seriously, you’re not going to finish that sentence?”

“I’m sorry I got distracted. You know what it is... I lied to you that night we were drunk. You were my fantasy, but I couldn't just say that right. You are my colleague and I've never had the idea I could be something more until I saw the look on your face when you looked at me last week with my shirt off."

She sighs; "Well, It's already hard to hide it with your shirt on Carrick, but it appears to be a real-life mission impossible when you're standing bare-chested in front of me. It does weird things to my brains and body you know."

"Soooo, me suggesting to Ethan that the new work outfits should be shirtless is not an option?"

She giggles; "Oh no, you do that, please. As long as I get to watch when you ask him. Imagine the look on his face."

Tobias bites his lip at the thought; "True, though, I cannot imagine him saying no to a shirtless you...Miss Croft." He winks and pulls her close to his chest, softly caressing her arm.

"O God, I made a total fool out of myself didn't I?"

"Not at all. Never apologize for looking that delicious. Besides, she was my fantasy until you knocked her off her throne, Hughes."

"Oof, so I've drawn some bad blood there, or what?"

"Nah, actually you might have teamed up a few times.”

She laughs; "Well I'm always open for suggestions Carrick, so if you bump into her...never hurts to ask."

His eyes start to glister at her words. "I never dreamt of you being this naughty, Hughes."

"Is that right, Carrick? So, how did I actually do compared to fantasy Liz?"

He smirks “You’ve proven from our first kiss that reality can beat fantasy by a long shot.” He turns to his side to give her a sweet kiss on the lips.

"I don't think I dared to dream that kissing you would feel this good Liz."

Her eyes start to flutter a bit, relaxing at his words. "So I guess there will be a next time, ha?"

"For me, absolutely. I can't wait to get caught with you day after day, making out in the supply closets until they just give us our own, with our names on it, to have a little fun in."

She smiles softly, barely able to keep her eyes open, murmuring; "I would love that, Tobias"

He removes his arm gently from under her neck to get up. He grabs the blankets, covering her and he lifts her head gently to lay it onto a pillow.

"Mmh, thank you T."

He smiles and plants a kiss on her forehead as she gets comfortable, shifting around, moving on her side.

He returns to bed, drawing her in to spoon.

“So about that whole yoga and gymnastics. Care to show me tomorrow in the shower?”

She smiles gently with her eyes closed. “Absolutely. And after that, you might want to show me around in your apartment... I might have missed everything except for 'naked you' and the breakfast counter.”

He laughs and looks at her in all his tenderness. He closes his eyes and moves hides his nose in her hair, breathing in her warm scent, focussing on the sound of her breathing.

Murmuring on the brink of falling asleep. “Deal, Miss Hughes. Besides you can have anything you want from me, anywhere. Because it's very clear that I was never the one in control, and hell, I love it."

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

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. Also please let me know if you want to be tagged for OH, but not for smut like this. Taglist: @schnitzelbutterfingers @kachrisberry @jerzwriter @gkittylove99

@choicesficwriterscreations

#tobias carrick #tobias x mc #jesse williams #open heart #choices open heart #fics of the week #why not both

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blackknightgargiemoviephile · 3 years

Text

How To Train Your Dragon Saga

In the beginning, I was never really interested in watching the movie and never even bothered to watch the trailer, since we thought it was one of those cliche failure movies (and Dreamworks hasn't really had a very good track record of good animated movies at the time), but after being bombarded with tons of Toothcup fanfics and fanarts and after very high recommendations by my friend Jello13 from dA, I finally got down to watching the movie. Boy, was I glad I took my friend's recommendation to watch this movie, and the subsequent sequels after that, because after 3, 4 friggin' times, I still fucking LOVE this movie!!!

Here's my findings of the saga:

Apparently this movie was based on a children's novel written by Cressida Cowell which focuses on the 2nd book in a 10-volume book franchise. There are certain deviations between the real Hiccup and Toothless and the storyline as a whole, but after reading the summary of the original story, I think I like the movie version better. In fact even the writer said so in her blog that she likes the deviation as the movie captured the core essence of her story and it was amazing to see her story to be interpreted this way.

The storyline and the pacing is very good, and the sarcastic humour and slight optimism of Hiccup despite people thinking he's anything BUT a Viking is very intriguing. I love his catchphrases like "I'm way too muscular for their tastes. They wouldn't know what to do with all...this" and "Thank you for summing that up" and his famous line "You just gestured to ALL of me!" is just some of the LOL-worthy lines the talented Jay Baruchel who voices Hiccup does.

I was totally shocked to find out that Gerard Butler plays the role of Stoick, Hiccup's old man! I have never expect him, who is known for his brawniness and action-packed persona, made famous in the movie 300, would actually play a voice-over for a cartoon character. After finding out, spotting his voice and hearing the familiarity was much, much easier.

And of course, the creme de la creme of the entire movie: TOOTHLESS!! He is just so, so, so, soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo uber cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute~~~~!!!!! When I read about him in fanfics and caught glimpses of him through fanarts, I was thinking, "Hey, this dragon is quite cute." Now amplify that feeling by a gajillion times more. That's how I feel about Toothless. He started off a little vicious with his snake-like slit for eyes, trying to act strong and tough like the dragon he was, but the moment he let his guard down a little, he got these pair of big doe eyes that is just so MOE and SQUEE-worthy. And of course I finally learn how he got his namesake: with retractable teeth that he can materialize at will

My most favourite scene of the entire movie would be this scene where Toothless finally was at peace with Hiccup and allowed him to touch him. The way Toothless tried to copy his drawing, and then growled whenever Hiccup stepped on his drawing, then Hiccup moved to avoid the lines in tune with the music until finally they were so close they were allowed to touch was just so AWW-worthy. And the music score was perfect too, especially the title of that score: Forbidden Friendship. Isn't that just sweet?

The part where Hiccup and Toothless slowly develop that bond while trying to get Toothless back on his flight feet again was also very interesting as they slowly worked together and forget each other's differences to reach a common goal, while at the same time trying to learn about each other, and Hiccup using that knowledge to good use (the eel and the scratching of the neck part was really epic), making him the life of the team, much to his crush, Astrid's chagrin.

I also love the part where Hiccup tries to convince everyone during the final exam of killing a dragon that dragons are not what they think they are, and tried to pacify the Monstrous Nightmare only to be interrupted by Stoick and having Toothless coming to the rescue (damsel in distress much, Hiccup? XD) and revealed their relationship. It felt really sad and my heart just broke when Hiccup shouted Toothless for him not to kill Stoick and Toothless looked at him with his doe eyes, then Hiccup tries in vain to stop everyone from hurting Toothless, and that argument which led to his disowning, and earning back his role as a son by proving his worth and Toothless' reputation, though a cost of his leg. I was wondering where would be the scene where he looses his leg, since I read that he had a prosthetic in fanfics, but turns out it happened in the near end of the movie, and literally mirrored Toothless' missing left tail fin.

Ending is a bit cliche where he gets the girl, he is lauded as a war hero and gained the respect of everyone including his father, the dragons made peace with humans and all that, but still it was a very heartwarming cliche scene. One that leaves a smile on your face and a sigh of contentment in your heart.

Speaking of Astrid, not really sure it's because of that yaoi in me, but I never really saw Astrid as a suitable pairing for Hiccup. I know, I'm not usually one for bestiality, but seriously, can't you just FEEL the love between Hiccup and Toothless to the point where you can consider them as lovers? Toothcup (Toothless/Hiccup) pairings are in the rage right now since the movie has been uber popularize, and you cannot deny that sort of relationship exist, right?

This one, personally I feel, is almost as par as the first one. Not better, not worse, but more or less par. Hiccup and Astrid are still together, but the Toothcup shipper in me just don't feel like they match somehow. Moreso, suddenly out of the blue, Snotlout and Fishlegs were heads over heels with Ruffnut, which I ABSOLUTELY have NO CHEMISTRY feel whatsoever! Even after I've watched their TV series that led to the second movie, I STILL don't get the vibe or the chemistry between those three people. It's like "Wait, what?" moment.

Although that moment when Ruffnut was just totally thirsty for Eret was absolutely hilarious though. I couldn't help laughing and cringing at the same time.

When the moment Hiccup's mom Valka showed up, I was not expecting her to be so... skinny. Stoick said that he made helmets out of Hiccup's mom's breast plate, and it seemed pretty big, but looking at her, she didn't look like someone who was close to being a big bosom woman, but what is continuity anyways? LOL Though Hiccup definitely has inherited her knack for dragons. Guess it's in the blood after all.

I teared up a little when Stoick died, and I felt so bad that their bromance was threatened by this, but thankfully Hiccup still loves Toothless and is willing to forgive him and try to bring him back to his side. Goes to show how deep their bond is, and Toothless ended up becoming the Alpha Dragon was one of the most epic moments in the whole movie.

It also kinda interesting that Hiccup has somehow became pretty hot in this movie. Was pretty surprised at how he transformed from the awkward tiny little runt of a boy to a strapping man LOL

Plot feels similar to the 2nd one, but the ending was so so SO bittersweet. A fitting ending, but sweet yet painful for me to watch.

My heart broke at the scene wen Hiccup was complaining about Toothless being in love n said "Am I not enough?" and I was like internally screaming "YES! U ARE ENOUGH!! U TWO ARE ENOUGH!! FUCK THAT LIGHT FURY!!"

Throughout the courtship scene btwn Toothless and the Light Fury i was like internally screaming "NO, SHE'S A TRAP! SHE'S A FUCKING TRAP! HICCUP, WHY ARE YOU OKAY WITH THIS?! I'M NOT HAPPY WITH THIS! I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS!!"

I cried like a fucking baby, especially at the end of the movie. It was like I knew it was happening, that they were gonna break up, but I was in denial, then when Toothless hugged Hiccup goodbye, I lost it, waterworks all over. In fact, waterworks all the way to the end at their final reunion ugly-cried like a fucking baby.

It did ended perfectly; perfectly bittersweet and perfectly heartbreaking and I was like "This is it. It's official. It's over. My Toothcup ship has fucking sank!!"

Fuck you, DreamWorks, you have killed my bromance!! Gahh!! I hate and love this movie at the same time!

Overall rating:

HTTYD: 9/10

HTTYD2: 7.5/10

HTTYD: 9/10

#httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup and toothless #movie review #toothcup

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burningcowboyhoagietaco · 3 years

Text

A Way to Learn a Lesson

written by:

@burningcowboyhoagietaco

illustrated and edited by the amazing, the one and only:

@lenle-g

Before I publish the story id like to thank @lenle-g from the bottom of my heart for being patient with me, being nice to me the whole time, and for making my story even better and more exciting. Without her I would have stayed in my normal, not that good English story. so thank you for everything!!! <3<3

And here's my part at @tagminibang submission:)

☆☆☆☆☆

Scott, no!!! No way! I am not going to give any lectures to anyone." John's voice comes out tight. "Especially not in front of a crowd. No way."

"Why not?" Scott raises a brow, his voice honeyed with ‘big brother wants something’. "It's not like you're gonna get executed by some children just for talking space at them, right? You love talking about space. It's all I've heard since you were, like, seven."

"No, that's not it." There's a sharp shake of the ginger’s head, "Scott, come on!" John knows for a fact that his oldest brother knows he's the most socially awkward person to have ever lived on Tracy Island (and maybe the entire planet). "You’ve lived with me long enough to know how much I hate social.... anything." John complains. "Why would you ever think I'd want to do this?""

"Well, yes, I know that," Scott shrugs, "I've seen that look you get on your face when there's a lot of people around." He’s well aware that his brother is an introvert who hates socializing with anyone, so he quickly changes the subject to try and make his younger brother feel a little more at ease. "But hey... everyone knows how much you like it when anyone talks about space or anything about astronomy. You'd be amazing at it."

"That's a different thing." John says flatly. Flattery, it seems, wont get Scott very far. "It's like, whenever you guys ask me anything about space, I like to answer them for you, but from random people…? And in huge crowds? I just simply can't." Surely he doesn’t have to explain himself much more than that?

"Oh trust me, everything is going to be fine." Scott was a flippant hand around, talking without really thinking, because all he wants is for his brother to get out of Thunderbird 5, to visit Earth for a little bit, to mingle with people a little. It can't be that bad. "If anything happens, Gordon and Alan'll be in Thunderbird Five doing Space Monitor duty, me and Virgil are gonna keep an eye on everything, and you’re in safe hands with Lady Penelope and Parker. It's all set up, so please go have some fun for once and teach the children something cool."

"My answer is still no." John says persistently, without hesitation. He's pretty sure it'd be worse than being in the middle of a hurricane, or testing one of his Grandma's new cooking experiments. It’s lucky Scott misses his involuntary shudder.

Scott, though, is so done with him at this point, that he's pretty sure there's no choice but to use plan b and hope that that works instead on his unwilling, stubborn, red haired brother. They've got to get him down from orbit and to that lecture somehow. Scott's just not going to stand for anything else.

"Are you sure that's your last answer?" Scott asks, with a heavy sigh, already planning the best way to call in the big guns.

"Yes," John scowls, arms folded. "Yes, it is."

They'll see about that.

...

"Is everything ready?" John adjusts his sleeves, smoothing down his vest and putting the last touches on his collar. Neat, simple, formal. Can't go wrong. "My presentation papers, laptop, and my mini simple dimple?”

"Yes, all in the bag." Scott calls back, rapidly checking everything, "But do you really need that little fidget thing of yours?" He picks his younger brother's old toy up between forefinger and thumb to examine it, remembering the day John made their Mom buy it for when he gets stressed.

"What fidge- oh, yes I need it." The look on John's face leaves no doubt about that. "I've used it ever since Mom bought it for me."

"Hey… Mom would've been proud of you, you know?” Scott tells him, in a quick flash of brotherly pride. “For, you know, going out of your safe zone for a little while and teaching the children and all that."

"Yeah, I know…" John finds him a nervous smile, "But I'm not doing this voluntarily, you've forced me with that plan b of yours."

The second John says that Scott's cheeks dimple, the corners of his eyes crinkle, and he grins victoriously, his teeth a bright white in the earliest rays of morning sun.

“All I had to do was make a call." He shrugs, "Lady Penelope did all the talking and somehow convinced you to go." Scott got a little more excited. He took a couple of steps forward, slightly standing on his toes reaching John's level asking"How did she convince you?" Clearly waiting teasingly for an answer to come out of John's lips

"Huhhhh." John exhales loudly, a little despairing. "She promised me we'd go to the Pagasa Astronomical Observatory after I finish the lecture with the children." He shrugs, keeping his eyes down, embarrassed.

"The what now?" Scott stares at him, thoroughly confused.

"The Pagasa Astronomical Observatory in the Philippines.” John says, like that was obvious, “It's equipped with a 45-cm computer-based telescope. It's so powerful that astronomers and astronomy enthusiasts can now conduct effective observations of stellar bodies and other distant space objects! Scott, it’s been my dream to go since I was, like, 17."

Scott always knew how much of an astrophile his younger brother is; he never cared about his physical appearance, nor his poor eating habits and he always used to make excuses to read his books alone, yet no one has ever interfered in his personal life.

"Okay okay space lover boy,” Scott grins at him. He'd expected Penny to be persuasive, but resigning herself to hours stuck with John in full excited-about-space mode would hardly be in his top ten. Either he's gonna owe her one, or Penny's more resilient than him. “You can go, no one is holding you back."

The short silence between them was broken by a ringing sound from a nearby table, which John answers.

“...Mhm, yes? Oh, the lecture." It must be Penelope calling, "Yeah, I'm ready, I'll head out now." John grabs his bag, wandering toward where the FAB1 must already be idling on the Tracy runway. "Time to go."

"Mhm,” Scott makes an agreeable noise, watching him go. “Please stay safe and please don't make an idiot of yourself." He's teasing… mostly.

"Yeah yeah," John waves at him over his shoulder, not even looking back. "I won't."

…

"Are we there yet?" Despite the consistently amazing views out of FAB1’s windows during the flight, John’s found himself mostly looking down, fidgeting with his fingers. He’s worrying, just a little, about what awaits him in the Philippines - a whole different tropical island to his own, though still in the South of the Pacific Ocean.

"Just give Parker ten more minutes, darling,” Her Ladyship smiles at him, “We'll arrive in no time."

There’s a moment of silence before, unexpectedly, it’s broken by a call flashing up from, of all places, Thunderbird Five. There’s a prickly sense of discomfort as John realises that, of course, it’s not him calling. Gordon must be trying to reach them.

"Heeeeey Lady Penelope,” The kid greets, as Penny flicks it on, seemingly a lot less bothered by the change than he is. “Oh, and Mr. Tracy.” There’s a huge smirk on his face. “How's our newest teacher holding up?"

"Firstly, my name is John.” John points out, flatly, “Second, I'm not your teacher so please don’t call me Mr. Tracy ever again. Thirdly…” He concedes, quirking an eyebrow, “Yeah, I'm good for now, but fourth… How are you holding up, up there in my Thunderbird? She’s not much like Four, is she?"

"Ooooooooo that's a good question,” Gordon looks half like he’s considering it, half like he’s really missing his own ‘bird. “I'm holding up pretty well thanks to Alan. He’s taken all the Monitor duty stuff, so all I gotta do is keep an eye on you guys." He sounds a bit… sarcastic about that. “It’s pretty boring, honestly. How do you survive up here without a pool?”

"Young Master Gordon, are you quite done talking?" Parker glances, unimpressed, at the little floating hologram of John’s brother in his rearview mirror, "Because we're about to arrive at our destination."

"Huh… oh yeah,” Gordon doesn’t seem too bothered about that, but he waves merrily at them all the same, “Okay bye and John, please have fun, you too Lady Penelope, okay bye guys."

It’s only a few moments later that Parker opens his mouth to tell them that they’ve arrived at Chino Roque Theater, pulling up out front to let them both climb out.

John's eyes widen: it’s nothing like what he saw on the internet. It was more enormous, more luminous, more spectacular than anything he’d seen or read online. All he remembers reading is that it's a sphere shaped building located in the Philippines, in Anilao Hill, but the pictures on the webpage didn’t do it justice like being there in person does.

The building was smooth and round; the auditorium shaped like a massive egg nestled in amongst the other buildings. They were early enough that the sun was just cresting the horizon, colouring the sky with reds and oranges, visible through the geometric front of the building - where giant triangles of glass intersect together to give the people inside an amazing view of the sky at night.

"M'lady, you and John can go ahead. I'll park FAB 1." Parker said, before going to the parking lot - unaware just how tiring and long his journey to find a place to park is going to be.

They both head inside the building, admiring the sweeping glass fractals of the roof high above them. It’s incredibly beautiful, really a feat of engineering. So much so, that John almost forgets why he’s even there, until he spots a couple of buses arriving on the other side of the building, and the panic sets in. He was expecting to be a little bit anxious, but this feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. He presses a hand hard against it, trying to calm his racing pulse and stop the sudden shake of his fingers, and Penny must notice, because a little hand settles, ever so lightly, on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her.

"Hey John," Lady Penelope looks him steadily in the eye, projecting warmth and reassurance. "They're just a small, mixed group of children and teens. They can’t possibly hurt you, now can they? They just came to have a small lecture because all of them like space and astronomy just like you. Imagine yourself at their age, meeting a real life astronaut.” John tries very hard not to remind her who, exactly, his Father was, as she goes on - trying to visualise being a kid that didn’t get ‘take your son to work days’ at NASA’. It’s a pretty horrifying concept. “Most importantly,” Penny adds, “it's only for an hour or so, so you don't need to worry so much." She had to smile just to reassure him. “You’ll have filled their heads with space facts and be out before you know it.”

"O-okay,” John takes a deep, steadying breath, “I don't know if I'm supposed to trust you on this, or whatever, but I really don't have any other choice." He also wants to add that they forced him to go, but at the last second he remembers that they never forced him - he agreed to go because Lady Penelope promised him a trip to the observatory.

It seems like a pretty weak reason, now that he’s outside the stage door, knees shaking.

"Mhm, I think it's time to go inside.” She nudges him callously in the right direction, and John’s palms meeting the solid metal of the double doors is the only thing that keeps him from following gravity’s call and landing on his face. “Again, if anything happens, I'll be at the back of the room and I have a plan b if things get too much." John, pretty shocked by just how many plan b's the Lady Penelope might have prepared for the day, can only shake his head, bemused. “So stop worrying and get out there!”

She vanishes off into the atrium, and John can’t help the loud exhale that escapes his mouth before he musters up all the courage he can, and enters the room.

Bright lights startle him for a moment, and he’s pretty sure he does an awful, awkward impression of a blind baby giraffe as he stumbles out onto the stage and freezes as he notices the first smatterings of audience are already taking their seats.

The moment he placed his foot on the smooth wooden floor, his heart had started to beat faster, his hands began to sweat, the more steps he took forward the more he felt anxious. It was, he’ll think later, one of the toughest moments of his life, and he’s been to space. Multiple times.

Come on John. He tries to straighten up, shake off his anxiety, This can’t go worse than your first EVA.

Taking another deep breath, John waits patiently for all the attendees to take a seat inside the room. Waiting doesn’t help his anxiety levels at all, and he can feel them increasing by the second, but, determined, John doesn’t let it stop him from starting his lecture.

"H-Hello everybody,” He starts, incredibly conscious of the hushed silence that falls across his audience. “I'm John Tracy, M.Sci, PgDip, B.Lang Hons,” he rattles off his credentials, his nerves almost blurring them together, “I worked with NASA as an astronaut for three years before going… uh… solo in my astronomical studies, and I'll be your guest lecturer for the day.” He swallows around the lump in his throat, as a ripple of hushed oohhhs and ahhhs goes through the crowd. John’s pretty sure his face has gone bright red. “Thank you for having me at the Chino Roque Theater,” He goes on, before his embarrassment can bet the better of him, “I hope everyone’s had an amazing day so far. We'll be spending the next hour or so talking about astronomy and space physics, so shall we get started?" John thought it was a good opening, and yet his back was really wet from all the people's eyes on him. Glancing offstage, Penelope throws him a thumbs up, and he feels a little better.

"Um,” He blinks. “So does anyone here know how old the universe is?" John ventures, only to be surprised as almost everyone answers at once;

"Almost 13.8 billion years!"

"Yes,” The edge of a smile works its way onto John’s face. Clearly this was going to be a shout out the answer kind of lecture. He can work with that. “That's correct, now does anyone know how the universe started?"

"The Big Bang!" Most of them answer, and John feels a surge of relief. These guys really are into space.

"Okay, okay, not bad at all." He nods affirmatively at them, and the screen behind him lights up with an artist’s rendition of the Big Bang happening. "Now if I were to go and search ‘how old is the universe’ in, say, Google, the answer would be 13,772 billion years. It’d be the same thing if we looked at NASA, or even Wikipedia - so how did people get to know the age of the universe? How do you even start calculating something that old? Well I'm going to explain it for you in two ways: the good, nice way, and the kinda not that good and not that scientific way." There’s a bit of an awkward pause as John wonders whether or not he’s explained that well. When only silence greets him, he very quickly realises he needs to press on.

"So, uh, the good way.” He folds his fingers together behind his back, trying to resist the urge to fidget. “Well, in the middle of the previous century, as telescopes developed, we noticed something strange. We found that stars in very distant galaxies tend to look red… Umm, which is something that’s not supposed to happen.” A chuckle escapes John and, to his relief, the audience laughs with him. Scott never gets his space jokes. “So why’s that?” He asks, “See, if a chemical element gains or loses energy it’ll emit light in certain frequencies, thereby creating certain colors.” A small movement of his hand signals the slide to change, and a picture of the visible section of the electromagnetic spectrum appears, colouring the room with rainbow light. “For example,” John goes on, bathed in blue and violet, “Consider something like… a desk lamp, as like an element. If you give a lamp electrical energy, it’ll release that energy in the form of heat and light, yeah?" There’s a murmur of uncertain understanding in the room. “Electricity goes in, the bulb gets hot, and it gives off light. Well, we know stars do pretty much the same thing - only powered by nuclear fusion rather than a nine volt plug.”

"From studies of the sun and stars that are near Earth, we know that they’re made of helium and hydrogen, yes?” There’s another murmur of agreement in John’s crowd, “Well, hydrogen and helium can create red light, but they don't have the ability to create these shades of red that we see in deep space." The slide behind John clicks to a comparison of the two shades, on two different stars - making the difference clear.

"So, if stars are made of helium and hydrogen then why do distant stars have different colours? Are their compositions different?uh, well It’s possible, but not likely. The strongest explanation is that the color difference is due to the movement of the stars." The room gives a soft gasp at this news, and John knows he’s onto something good.

"So there's something called the redshift and blueshift phenomenon that says that if an object radiates light and approaches you, the color of the light begins to turn blue, and if the object is moving away from you, the color will turn red. This happens because the wavelength of light contracts and expands with movement meaning that something stretching equals red and contraction equals blue."

"And the strange thing is,” John adds, his audience listening raptly, “That most, if not all, stars show the same behavior, so, if we think about it, if all stars are moving away from us, that means that they were close to us at some point, and if we follow their path, we find that everything in space meets at a point named ‘singularity’."

"It was believed, in the past, that everything in the universe, or at least in the visible part that we have observed, that is to say,” John flicks to a graphic on his next slide. “All the galaxies, planets and stars, were all gathered at one point - the singularity. The theory is that this point exploded in what we call the ‘Big Bang’, and from that time onward, the universe has been in constant expansion.”

"So it’s with data from this knowledge that we can calculate the age of the universe:” With a wave of his hand, John puts a series of bullet points up on the screen behind him, then reads them aloud.

“One, the universe began as a very small, single point.” He reaffirms, “Two, the universe is constantly expanding outward from that point, and three, from these we have the ability to calculate the expansion rate of the universe, by calculating the speed of the stars that are moving away from us. If we take the furthest accelerations and enter them into this equation,” John’s board merrily does it’s thing behind him, “Then, we get the age of the universe."

"And, so we don't forget, all this talking was about the good way. There is another way to calculate the age of the universe, the, uh, not as good way, or, more specifically, the less scientific way.” A ripple of laughter goes through John’s audience - and he relaxes a little more. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe these are his kind of people. Scott’s never laughed at a space joke for sure. “There's no problem with it,” He quietens them again with a gentle gesture, “and it does support our theory and calculations, so I guess we should talk about it."

"Since ancient times, humans have been looking at the sky, watching the stars, and giving them names like Cygnus, Canis Major, Orion.” All names any young astronomer in the Southern Hemisphere would recognise, and be able to enthusiastically point out in the night sky. “In those days, there wasn't the internet so they were looking up at the stars instead.” Much like John himself, when he’d been a boy.

“As a way of calculating the age of the universe, astronomers set out to search for the oldest celestial bodies in space.” He goes on to explain, “The idea was that if we find a star whose age equals X, then the age of the universe must be greater than the number X. So we pointed our telescopes up there and started trying to find out their ages from birth, to youth, to their old age until their end."

"Can anyone guess the age of the oldest star we've found?" A lot of answers were guessed, some of them were pretty close, but some, amusingly, were way too far. "Ok, ok…” John puts his hands up to pacify his excited crowd, “Umm I see there are a lot of answers, but the oldest star people discovered was actually estimated to be 13.5 billion years old. The HD-140283, or as you might know it, the Methuselah Star. That number is very close, you’ll notice, to our estimation of the age of the universe."

"But if we found a star that is 13.5 billion years old today, then we could find an even older star next week and that would ruin all of that,” He chuckles, mostly to himself, “We also should note that this method alone isn't suitable for determining the universe’s age, but as long as we have two methods with corroborative results, we can be reassured that the estimate is correct.” He pauses for a second, “So, does anyone have questions?" A couple of hands raised, and John found himself suddenly answering a lot of questions - but he managed all of them despite his fear of the huge crowd.

He’s starting to feel more than a little overwhelmed.

"Umm… W-well that was a lot of questions,” John tries to pull it back in, his allotted lecture time ticking away on the big clock at the back of the hall. He feels a little panicky from the bombardment, and his palms have gone sweaty. “We’d better move on.” To distract himself from the people, as much as anything, “Our next topic is the theory of relativity, so l-let's get started on that."

Lady Penelope, from her fold-out seat at the back of the room, frowns. It’s clear John’s terrified and she wants to use plan b, but as long as he’s still standing on his feet, and giving the lecture, he's probably fine for now. If anything, it’d cause more of a disruption to drag him away now.

"Umm,” John takes a breath, trying to centre himself in the science of it all. “Let's start with a supposition, a hypothesis if you like, and consider it together. Okay, you’ll have to bear with me on this one, but let us suppose that we were all asleep, and the universe suddenly inflated by a thousand times.” There’s a murmur in the crowd at how odd everything abruptly getting that much bigger sounds, “Your bed, your pillow, your desk,” John extrapolates, “even the meter we measure stuff with. If humans became a thousand times bigger, when we woke up would we feel something strange? Would we even notice anything had changed? You’d think so, but no.” John’s settling back into his rhythm now, “So why is that? Because the bed and everything became a thousand times more inflated and our bodies also inflated a thousand times, with everything scaling in parallel relation to each other so that this percentage, this scale, was preserved throughout the room. You’d never know the difference."

"Henri Poincaré, the well known mathematician and theoretical physicist, says that we will never be able to discover that something like this has happened, even if we use all the mathematics and calculations ever invented.” John drives the point home with another illustrated slide, “This hypothesis is called the Poincaré hypothesis, and simply, because the meter with which we measure things will have also expanded a thousand times, there’s never going to be any equation or calculation or any analysis possible that could lead us to the truth, because the ratio is preserved in all parts."

"Now, this is important, because the same thing also happens with time. If everything suddenly got a thousand times faster, we’d still never feel anything different. Why’s that?” He asks, rhetorically, “Because time is also a thousand times faster, your heartbeat is also a thousand times faster, your body would function a thousand times faster to keep up with it all. As long as everything is increased by the same amount, the ratio is preserved, and none of us will be able to detect any change."

"So Poincaré asked the scientific community; is there no way to know that time increased or that things inflated?" John tells the room, "Well, it was Albert Einstein who answered him, deciding that the one and only way to tell, would be to have someone observing what happened to the world from another galaxy, from another world, lightyears away. For someone to point a telescope in our direction, and look through it at us, and say what happened to the Earth? Why are humans walking a thousand times faster than in the past? But this person who realized the situation,” The astronaut waves a flippant hand, starting to feel much more confident again, “would have to be a person standing on a fixed external platform in a different world, so that what happened to us was not also happening to him."

"But, as Einstein commented, this hypothesis is impossible for a simple reason and it's that there is no fixed platform in the universe - the entirety of it is in constant, turbulent motion. For example, the Earth rotates at a speed of 460 meters per second, revolving around the sun at 30 kilometers per second, and at the same time, the sun and it’s planets and dwarf planets and moons and asteroids, all revolve around our galaxy, The Milky Way, at a speed of 300 kilometres per second, and so the whole universe revolves. That's,” John takes a deep breath, finding himself out of air after so much explaining, “why it's impossible for us humans to completely accurately judge the motion of any astral body."

"Because there is no fixed berth, we can only offer relativity. This is the first part of the theory that Einstein came up with, in summary; it cannot be said that the monotony of a body is absolute motion."

"Another thing he said was that, because of the vastness of the universe, it’s impossible to synchronize, what does that mean? Well, I will give you an example.” He flicks his slide, “Say I’m a person in the Philippines, and I'm talking to someone from the United States. We synchronize, and hear each other in real time, because we have a method of fast communication. I can hold my device and say; hello, how are you?” John holds up the slim, sliver slice of his phone to show the audience, “How’s the weather there? And they’d answer me with something like; I’m fine thank you, it's night here so it’s a bit hard to tell what the weather’s doing! What’s the weather like there? And I’d answer them; it's daytime, and maybe ask them something like, what are you eating? They’d answer me; a burger, and then I’d tell them that I'm eating kaldereta, and it’s much better than a burger."

In the audience Penny quietly hopes that Gordon, who's probably listening in with the rest of his brother’s, missed the fact John was making jokes on stage. The poor little bugger’ll never live it down otherwise.

"These two events, each person talking to the other, are compatible.” John goes on, absolutely oblivious, “It’s possible because the two wireless devices, be they mobile phones or more sophisticated comms systems, are on the same globe, creating a fast means of communication.”

"But,” John postulates, “If I was talking to someone from another galaxy and I used the same means of communication to make a call, do you know how long it would take to get to them? It would be about five to six thousand years until my signal reaches the phone of our friend, and they’ll have married, had children and died, and their children would have married and had children and died, and so on, for thousands of years before then."

"And that's why it's impossible to synchronize between the ends of the universe,” John balances his palms like he’s weighing two invisible ends, “It rather puts a damper on our chances of finding and communicating with extraterrestrial life, for sure, but at least it’s possible to synchronize within one system, like the system of the Earth. "

"This is a thing that also applies to light, for example: any star you could look up and see now, the light emanating from it may be coming from thousands of years ago. This means that it’s possible that the star you see shining could have exploded and disappeared, and hasn't existed for a long time. Why? Because it takes a couple of thousand years for the light from that explosion to reach us."

"There isn’t any proof for the hypothesis that the universe is linked by time, but the thing that happens that we’re sure of is that the universe is made up of, sort of, separate islands of different times that have no connection between them. The connection between movement and time in space is something we all know about, for example, a day on Earth equals twenty-four hours, yes?” There’s a chorus of agreement from the audience, “But on Saturn, a day is ten hours because it rotates faster. Astonishingly, a day on Mercury is the same as fifty-eight whole Earth days, which, infact, is also a Mercurian year, because the planet revolves around the sun for the exact same period as it revolves around itself."

"Okay, so, to what extent is movement related to time?” John asks, well and truly into this whole teaching thing now, “Well, Einstein was the first person to discover the connection between them and suggested that; suppose you’re on board a very fast rocket, 100,000 miles per hour for example. The mechanical watch on your wrist would be delayed over the flight, but you wouldn’t feel like time is being delayed. Why’s that? It’s because the rhythm of your heart would slow down - all of the vital processes in your body that are inside the rocket will slow down."

"As you move more, something called the dilation of time will happen.” He steps to the side, as if to illustrate the point, only to find himself stumbling a little, like if the ground beneath his feet had moved. “T-Time slows down,” John tries to recover it smoothly, but everything’s starting to feel, weirdly, like it’s shaking, and he doesn’t think it’s the anxiety anymore, “and that's-"

John doesn’t get to finish his sentence because there’s an abrupt shift and a loud cracking from under him, and getting off the stage suddenly seems like a good idea. Someone screams outside, and the volume in the room skyrockets as the children start panicking. John’s one hundred percent sure this wasn't anything planned.

He knew he shouldn't have come.

Earthquake? He wonders first, then; Tsunami? Ground slip? Hurricane? Whichever it is, John has to prioritise calming the people and evacuating them out of the building. The giant glass panels above them are trembling with the force of the shaking, and, as a professional at this sort of thing, Thunderbird Five’s Space Monitor doesn’t like the look of it one bit.

"Everyone calm down,” He has to shout to make himself heard over the roar of people, even with the microphones pointed his way, “This is a normal thing. All we have to do is evacuate immediately, as calmly. as. possible. I don't want anyone crowding the exits, do you all understand what I just said?" The front rows, white faced with fear, nod encouragingly at him, and he watches as they begin to lead the way toward the glowing green signs that signal the emergency exits. Immediately after making sure the crowd is moving, John pulls up his comm to contact Gordon.

"Gordon, are you on the line?” John’s a little breathless and he climbs down from the precarious stage, into the throng of terrified bodies, “We have a situation in here."

"Let me guess, you caused it?" Gordon seems so excited to hear something other than his brother's boring lecture that humour has outweighed his professionalism.

"Gordon,” John grits his teeth, “I'm being serious right now, there was a huge movement in the ground beneath the Chino Roque Theater, and it's still ongoing. Tell Alan to do a check on what's happening beneath us using the Ground Penetrating Radar." He orders.

"F.A.B." Comes the far more serious response, before Gordon clicks off the line to do just that. Squashing down any fear he’d about the now swelling, shuffling crowd, John opens his arms wide and walks toward them, the motion sort of like he’s trying to herd sheep, as he tries to evacuate the people safely out of the building.

He’s not exactly an expert at being on the scene during rescues.

"John, there's a landslide going on right now,” Alan’s worried little voice comes ringing out of his comm speakers, “Right next to the theatre. You’d better get out of there. I’m monitoring the situation, but it’s looking like you’re going to need International Rescue to get you and the people out of there. The debris field is spreading fast." John would do almost anything to be up there instead, at his own screens. “I've contacted Virgil and Scott, I’m patching them through now.” Alan clicks Scott and Virgil, both clearly just finishing their suit up sequences, into the conversation. It seems important to keep them up to date with John's developing situation.

"Hey Mr. Tracy, how are you holding up?" Scott jokes over the roar of his launching Thunderbird, the sound filling the background of the call with white-noise, "Oh, and how was your lecture?" John thinks he sounds far too casual in contrast to the impending danger all around him.

"Oh my God, Scott, is now really the time?” John groans, and a kid with mousey blond hair not dissimilar to Alan’s looks up at him, very confused, before the astronaut waves him on, “You are an adult person,” He reminds his big brother, “Please don't be like Gordon right now. He’s practically still a child."

"Hey!” Gordon had clearly overheard the conversation between his brothers, and springs up to defend himself. “I'm only two or three years younger than you!" He complains, not about to do the math.

"Gordon, we don't have time for arguing about that now,” John frowns, “and Scott, I'm holding up alright at the moment. Please don't ask me anything about the lecture until I get back home." If his voice cracks a little on that last bit, he’ll never admit it.

"Okay, okay I won't ask anything about that,” Scott reassures him, his amused, big brother grin very much in place, “Keep on evacuating the people safely until we arrive John, you’re doing great. It won’t take us that long. ETA at 15,000 mph is sixteen minutes.” He reassures, “We’ll be there before you know it."

"F.A.B. Scott." He reluctantly signs off. Now that he’s finished talking with Scott, John’s pleased to see that a lot of people have already made their way out of the atrium’s three sets of double doors, evacuating the building to get as far away from the landslide as possible. His fingers itch to pull up the schematics from Thunderbird Five on his comm, no matter what the people around him might think. He quickly caves, and it feels worth it to be able to see the incoming tide of slipping land.

They don’t have much time.

“Let’s go!” He shouts, chivvying. He’s a little breathless with the tension, so he keeps things short. “Come on! Let’s move guys!”

From his vantage near the crumbling stage, John can make out Lady Penelope and Parker by the main doors, ushering people through, and the sight of them fills him instantly with immense relief.

“Okay, that's a good amount of people out.” John has to jog to catch up with them, skirting around a little old lady with a zimmer frame and taking a second to correct her course, “Lady Penelope, Parker, I think you should go and check on the people who’re out. They could have minor injuries from the stampede, and International Rescue are still ten minutes out. I'll make sure the last few stragglers exit safely."

Penelope just nods, pale and worried. Her blond brows are all pinched in together, nervous and Parker looks practically haggard as he claps a reassuring hand on John’s shoulder, her faithful old companion following her pink shape dutifully out the doors. Hopefully they’ll go make sure that no one was badly injured in any way.

Turning back to the slow cascade of cracking rubble behind him, John finds the stage area has been all but obliterated, and his heart aches for the patrons of the Chino Roque Theater who’ll have to rebuild from scratch when this is over. He imagines the Tracy fund can contribute a significant amount toward that though. They often do for worthy causes.

John pushes the damp curl of his slightly sweaty bangs out of his eyes and climbs over what looks like a twisted piece of ceiling girder toward the sound of people, possibly trapped stragglers, who are calling for help.

"I miss Thunderbird 5 so much,” John mutters, keeping it under his breath so that no one hears him, as his palms are scraped raw against the concrete he’s trying to clamber around. There’s a rippp of fabric on a jagged piece of metal and the knee of his previous pristine brown jeans meets much the same fate as his poor, scuffed hands. “Oh, come on!” He’s having no luck today, “I'd so rather be assisting the situation from space. I can’t believe I’m stuck here." John grumbles, to no one in particular. He’s just not built for this kind of thing. Heavy labour and getting sweaty pulling people out of scrap heaps is what his other brothers do. At least rescues in space don’t have all this… gravity to contend with.

"John?” The crackle of a comm cut’s across his complaints, “What’re you still doing in there?” Gordon’s voice breaks him from his thoughts, little brother’s tone heavy with concern. “The building could fall any moment! You're so lucky the landslide isn't moving very fast, but it’s not gonna stay that way forever." Gordon was really worried about the fact that his older brother was still inside. “It could engulf the building! You need to hurry it up, bro.”

"I'm evacuating the people as fast as I can,” John gets both hands under the armpits of a boy who couldn’t be older than seven, and swings him above a pile of rubble toward safety, “I'll be out in no ti- Ah!"

John’s voice gets cut off with a startled cry, and it takes Gordon a second or two, time John might not have, to remember how to breathe so that he can yell in any way coherently into his comm. His eyes are wide, his anxiety levels through the roof as he tries, and fails, to rouse his brother on the other end.

"SCOTT! You need to get there now.” Gordon’s aware that he’s totally losing his cool, panic creeping in over his weak layer of professionalism, “I just lost contact with John.” He gasps, “He was evacuating people and I heard him yell and now he’s not responding! And- and it's not just him. There were other people he was trying to get out."

"Hey Gordon,” Scott tries to keep his voice steady to inject some kind of stability into the conversation, ��Don't lose your cool yet. I'm sure nothing that bad happened to John. Just stay your positive self, okay? I’m arriving right now and Virgil isn’t far behind me."

Thunderbird One is panning over the city, low enough to ruffle the hair of people looking up, but it’s not a problem until the usually so sure and steady pilot finds his hands nearly slipping off her controls as Scott catches his first, horrific glimpse of the building that he knows his younger brother is inside.

“What the…?”

The Chino Roque Theater is almost flat.

"Virgil,” Scott swallows hard to try and remove any of the tremor from his voice, “A-Are you seeing what I'm seeing right now?" He almost succeeds.

"Scott this isn't a joke, it looks like half of the building has come down with the landslide! John’s in there!" Virgil sounds more terrified than Scott thinks he’s ever heard him. What scares him the most is that the exit was on the side that has fallen in, which means that a lot of people are trapped under it, their John included. "Scott, we need to help them right now.

"Okay, here's the plan,” Scott’s hands tighten white-knuckled on the steering yoke, “You wear your exo-suit and go clear the debris out of the way so that we can save them, and I'll get rid of that roof with Thunderbird One and check for life signs. Remember that saving lives is our top priority, got it? No matter what’s happened to John."

"F.A.B." Virgil sounds incredibly tense. He lands Thunderbird Two as fast as he can in the crowded, limited space. Local people are beginning to make their way out of their houses to see what all the commotion is about, and the cramped city streets aren’t ideal for International Rescue’s four hundred and six ton workhorse.

Two’s pilot struggles into his exo-suit, rushing to get the Jaws of Life prepared despite Scott’s insistence that he focus and take things slow and sensible. It’s not long until he finds himself digging among the debris looking for buried people and, in the white rush of it all, Virgil’s not even sure how he got there.

"Scott,” he presses on his comm, “Please tell me you’ve got something?"

"Fortunately and thankfully yes,” It’s hard to find the hopefulness in big brother’s clipped Mobile Control voice, but it’s there to Virgil’s expert ear, drizzled in nervous relief. “I've got a whole cluster of life signs,” Scott reports, “BPM signalling in the green. "I think they’re just trapped under the debris." Alan’s echolocation report came back suggesting that there’s a big space under what could be folded sheet metal from the ceiling, that they’ve huddled in. I'm really sure there's nothing that bad, but still we have to continue otherwise it will take a bad turn for us and the people in there."

“I can use the grappling cables in Thunderbird One to take the strain off the roof,” Scott adds, “But I need you in there to get those people out.”

“Already on my way,” Virgil ducks under some rebar, skirting around the rubble and pulling away loose debris as he goes. His heart is loud in his own ears, and Virgil hopes the creak and groan of metal and concrete above him is Scott lifting the weight off the roof, keeping it from collapsing any further onto the people below, and not anything more sinister. Virgil gets peppered by a slide of small stones, but the roof holds steady.

He presses on until he catches sight of the cluster of around forty people, all huddled together around a tall, central figure with a shocking amount of rubble dust smeared over his face, and powdered through his ginger hair.

“John!” Two’s pilot makes a beeline for his brother, despite the fact three of the people are stuck under rubble. Clearly John’s in control of the situation here, and he’s never wanted a mission update from their Space Monitor so much in his life. He can’t help but hone in on the fact John's left arm is crudely wrapped in a piece of cloth from his sleeve, which he must’ve ripped off in order to tie it.

"You have to tell me exactly what happened,” Virgil drops the controls for the Jaws of Life, and grasps his brother’s biceps in both hands instead, resisting the very strong temptation to pull the spaceman in for a hug. “And what happened to your arm?!?" There’s a river of blood seeping from beneath the make-shift bandage, but John, it seems, isn’t bothered by it in the slightest.

"Not now Virgil.” His concerns get thoroughly dismissed, “We’ve got to get these people out of here, and then I'll tell you everything." Virgil didn't like the idea that something happened to his brother and he's silent about it, but after all John was right about saving the people first since his arm is under control for now.

John crouches by the nearest injured person; a pale, skinny teen with a sizable piece of rebar keeping him pinned.

“You’re gonna be out of there in just a second, Lito.” Virgil watches him reassuring the young man for a long moment, “Uh, Virgil?” John prompts. “Any time?”

“What?” He blinks, “Oh, yeah!” His brother is clearly waiting expectantly for him to use the Jaws of Life to get the poor kid out. "I’m on it, but you better tell me everything after we're done saving them." Virgil demands. “But, uh, Scott’s kind of holding the roof up right now, so you’re probably right.”

"Okay,” John literally rolls his eyes, busy stealing a pair of blue rubber gloves from the Med Kit Virgil brought with him, and snapping them on to protect his hands and the fine cuts he’d gotten from climbing over rubble. “I promise I'll tell you everything, but can we start actually rescuing them now?" Rolling his eyes right back, the bigger man uses his exosuit to heft the rubble off Lito, before John swoops in to apply pressure to his injuries.

“Give me the fold out stretcher from your sash.” He orders, hands bloodied “Then go get the next person out. Efifania, Sergio?” John beckons a pair of nearby dad’s in closer, clearly having singled them out as capable stretcher bearers. “Think you can manage Lito here for me?”

As Virgil starts removing the rubble from above the other two trapped people, a middle aged man and a younger woman, it becomes immediately obvious that both of them have more severe wounds than young Lito. They both need medical treatment immediately.

“I’ll carry one of them.” Without the three extra sets of hands he’d need, Virgil has to leave a couple of crowd members applying pressure to their wounds, as he moves back to where John is helping Lito unsteadily to his feet. “Think you can walk, young man? We’re gonna need that stretcher for the big guy.”

“I won’t let you fall.” John promises, and Virgil feels a real swell of pride at how well his brother is handling the situation whilst being outside of both his space station and his comfort zone. It looks like having a rescue and a job to do really gives him no time for anxiety. "I agree that that's our best plan.” He adds, nodding, short and sharp, to confirm it, then John turns, an arm around Lito’s waist and the kid’s arm slung over his shoulder, to address the crowd.

“Anyone not so severely hurt needs to help get the injured out of here.” John instructs, the small crowd listening raptly. The look on the faces of these scared people is one Virgil is all too familiar with, but he knows John has far less experience of in person. They’re really looking to him as their saviour. “Virgil here is going to lead us through the path he just made.” Which is news to Virgil, but does seem like the best plan. “International Rescue will then be able to take us all to the hospital to get checked out, and then I’m sure you’ll be released to go home to your families before you know it. Got it everyone?"

In that moment Virgil finds himself struck with amazement at how John seems to have become almost as fearless as Scott, as they started carrying the two injured people out to safety. It was really a new side to him that Virgil doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

"Virgil… I need you to check on Lady Penelope and Parker.” John’s keeping pace at his side, helping the boy they’d dug out along as he goes, “I told them to check to see if anyone was hurt."

"Hmm, yeah you're right.” Virgil frowns. If Penny and Parker have any more injured party members, even minor ones that just need a check up, Thunderbird Two will need to evacuate them to the hospital as well. “Have you got any idea where they might be?"

"Well, I told them to get somewhere away from the landslide,” John frowns, as their limping, shocky party stumbles out into the bright light of day, to be greeted by the roar of Thunderbird One’s engines high above them. “They should be near here.” He yells over the sound of it.

As usual, it turns out that John is completely right. Penny and Parker are waiting for them, but neither John nor Virgil find the look on Lady Penelope's face all that reassuring.

"JOHN!” She rushes toward the battered, bloodied spaceman, her arms outstretched. Virgil very quickly and carefully finagles poor Lito out of the way as his brother gets ambushed. “Are you okay?!?” Penelope demands, frantic, “What happened to your arm?” She reaches for the bloodied bandage, and John winces, “I'm so sorry,” All of John’s carefully constructed rules around personal space are shattered as she cups his cheek, inspecting his face for injury. It’s lucky that John is by far the most patient of the Tracy boys. “I shouldn't have left you there.

"She’d been so terrified, perhaps more than anyone else here. The horrific view she’d seen with her own eyes is going to haunt her for a long time yet. One second she was getting out of the building to reassure and check up on the people, and the next she was watching half the structure collapse completely, with John under the side that fell. She still feels a little sick.

"I'm so, so, so sorry John,” She repeats, before he can get a word in edgeways to reassure her, “Please, you must tell me if there's any way I can make it up to you. Ask me anything and I'll do it."

"Okay guys,” Virgil chuckles, “while you talk things out I'll go to get the injured people aboard Thunderbird 2. Make it quick though, we’ve still got people who need immediate medical treatment, got it?"

"F.A.B. Virgil.” John nods, “We'll be quick. Penny, I..."

“I’m so sorry.” She repeats again, and pulls his good arm over her shoulder as if to steady him as they make their way at the back of the crowd toward the big green Thunderbird.

"No no no, Penny, please stop apologising.” John’s fingers tighten for a quick moment on her shoulder, in brief reassurance, “I'm not going to ask you for anything because it was never your fault.” He insists, “It was just some bad luck, that's all. Fortunately I, and most people, got out safe with no severe wounds. These things happen.”

“Your arm.” She points out softly, hoping that all that blood looks worse than it is, “John I can’t believe you stayed behind like that, it’s so...”

“Tracy?” He grins, amused but very weary.

“Scott Tracy.” She corrects, scowling a little as she holds on just that little bit tighter around his waist as his adrenaline from the rescue starts to flag. “I thought you had more common sense.”

“Hate to disappoint.” She feels the warmth of him chuckling, “I’m lucky it was nothing worse than his cut from some shattered glass that fell on my arm while I was helping one of the guys who got stuck. I don’t think any arteries or anything have been damaged, but it is... kinda deep." And he might be getting a little lightheaded from the blood loss. Still, he really wants to reassure her, just like she had reassured him before he’d gone in to give the lecture.

"Hate to interrupt your moment, but are you guys done?" Scott pops up from who-knows-where amongst the crowd to yell at them. He’s clearly joined the relief effort. "Virgil’s just finished getting everyone aboard Thunderbird 2, and he's ready to launch." He adds, squinting at the pale, wobbly mess of his brother. "And you really do need to check your arm. That looks nasty.”

"Yeah Scott,” John wipes a tired hand over his dirty face, dislodging dust, “We're done. Don’t let Thunderbird Two wait for me, I'll hitch a ride with Lady Penelope, uh,” He turns to her, bashful, to check, “If that’s okay?"

“Of course,” Her Ladyship concedes, “Scott?” She is mildly concerned that big brother might want to have the injured member of his flock under his wing so he can smother him.

"Yeah sure, ride whatever you want.” Scott flip flops a dismissive hand at them, “You can ride a pod, I won't care as long as your destination is the hospital."

"How about you, Gordon?” John knows his little brother is still on the line, probably sulking. “Is it okay if I take the ride with Lady P?"

"W-what do you mean by that?” Gordon sounds confused and maybe a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught out. “Scott already said you should go, why’re you asking me?"

"Well, she's your girlfriend.” John grins, teasing, as Penny helps him into the back of FAB1. “Of course I have to get permission from her boyfriend.

"Penny swats at him for that, amused, but careful not to hit his injured arm. She doesn’t need anyone’s permission to do anything, but it is fun to see Gordon squirm - especially as Scott and Virgil both crack up, and even Alan in space starts teasing him.

"What?!?” Gordon’s face, bless that darling young man, has gone bright red. “J-Just go already." He ducks off the comm screen to try and hide his embarrassment, but it’s far too late for that.

He’s lucky that Penelope finds it incredibly endearing.

"John,” She nudges him, as the Tracy’s all click off the line to go do their actual jobs. She’s a little concerned that he’s looking a bit spaced out, if you’ll excuse the pun, and it’s probably a good idea to keep him talking. “You know we're still going to The Pagasa Observatory, just like I promised you, right?"

"Wait really?” John’s head tilts, a little floppy, towards her from where it had been sinking into FAB1’s luxurious headrests. He’s looking a little grey, but it’s good to see his eyes open. “After all that happened?” A ginger eyebrow quirks, “Are you sure there's time for that?"

"Well, we’re on our way to the hospital now, but there’ll be plenty of time this afternoon.” As long as the medics give him a clean bill of health. “You can change your clothes after we're done checking your arm then there should be time for you to go see that big telescope you've been dreaming of visiting. After all, I did promise you we’d go there after we're done."

"Well, that sounds good to me!” John smiles like there’s a supanova fuling him, “Penny you’re the best."

They reach the hospital a little after International Rescue has dropped off the fourty or so injured people, and so there’s quite a wait for a Doctor to be free so that they can have a look at John’s poor, sliced arm. Penny seems to be doing a worried hover at his side, while he waits, shaky from blood loss, and though he’s not used to having so much company, John has to admit it’s nice to have a chance to catch up with his old friend with no rescue alarms blaring.

Alan reports in that the two worst injured in the landslide have been hospitalized as fast as possible, that they were stable - the doctors have said their prognosis looked good. He also tells him that Lito’s family had been asking after the redheaded lecturer who’d helped him out of the rubble, and that John Tracy, M.Sci, PgDip, B.Lang Hons, should probably expect a gift basket in the mail quite soon.

John gets quite flustered about that. He’d just been doing his job.

The spaceman's arm was eventually treated, and Scott calls in to ask what actually happened to his arm. It still hurts, a properly bandaged throb just under his elbow, but not like before. The painkilling injection and little bit of morphine they’d given him when they stitched it up had probably helped with that.

Alan’s reports dug up that the landslide had been caused by a water main leaking under the building, and destabilizing the soil. Over time, water can do a lot of damage, washing away vital infrastructure if it’s not been properly reinforced during construction.

As the Chino Roque Theater was a new build, there must have been a mistake in the installation of the pipes during construction.

Someone was getting a big lawsuit heading their way, and Tracy Enterprises will be more than happy to fund the lawyers for the theatre.

As Lady Penelope promised him, they found John a change of clothes and went to the Pagasa Observatory. Penny’s quite sure she’s never seen anything as wholesome as the moment John sees the telescope - his eyes went all shiny, and the smile on his face was massive.

"Lady Penelope, Parker come take a look at the stars!!!” He calls, over his shoulder, with the enthusiasm of a boy half his age, “They’re really beautiful from here!" With such a high-powered lens pointed up at the cosmos, it rivals even his view from Thunderbird Five.

"Indeed, they are." Lady Penelope and Parker both step up to take turns, but John was the one to look through the telescope the most. With all the stealth her years as a secret agent offered her, Lady Penelope took a picture of him.

"Parker, come take a look." She whispers, beckoning her old companion gleefully over. "He looks so happy and innocent in this picture. Wouldn’t it be lovely to see his face like this always?"

"We still have some time before they close,” Parker points out, a sly grin creeping onto his nosey old face. “How h’bout we leave him like this for a little longer?"

"That, Parker.” she smiles, “Is an excellent idea.”

The End

#tag mini bang 2021 #tagminibang2021 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #john tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #Lady Penelope #Parker #tag #my writing

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