#it is ABSOLUTELY worth the $20 price i promise
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when the stars are in time or sometthing
#my art#in stars and time#isat#siffrin#loop#odile#mirabelle#isabeau#thinks about Loop. thinks about Loop. thinks about Loop#the touch starved creature(s). i like them#everyone go play in stars and time NOWW!!!!!#it is ABSOLUTELY worth the $20 price i promise#it has time loops . and is one of those games i wish i could play blind again all over#does this deserve a start again a prologue tag….. maybe#anyways. walks back into the fog ✌️
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Look it was a really fuckin rough day and internet drama is what is keeping me afloat so here's some bullshit about Watcher
I don't want to talk about creative decisions. Creators deserve to be paid and TV costs a lot of money, and whether you think a TV model makes sense and reflects the brand's appeal is ultimately a matter of taste.
I want to talk about how much this fuckin thing costs.
If you are going to make a venture like this survive, you must aim at the money. I am the money. I'm financially independent and old enough to have kids who watch the show but have no income, I am a long-time BFU/Watcher fan who's splashed out for merch and a live show, and I've subbed to multiple similar services (RIP Alpha). I am the boring adult that you must convince, because I am the one who can pay for this without a second thought. You will not make it through this on the empty promises of children.
The closest comp to Watcher is not Dropout; it's Nebula. And trust me on this- they would prefer you to compare it to Dropout, because of how much better it makes them look. Compared on full prices (because you can almost always get a discount), Nebula costs half of what Watcher does, for a much, much larger catalog. I am a huge fan of Nebula. I've watched hundreds of hours on Nebula, because there is loads of varied content from creators who have expressed exactly the same wishes for creative freedom as the Watcher team.
And honestly, if we are gonna talk about comparisons to Dropout, you're never gonna be able to watch BFU on this service, so it's apples to oranges anyway.
I am certain that they will make more money percentage-wise through this service. It's not on me to care about their yield from youtube vs a dedicated streaming service vs a partnered streaming deal. That's not my job; I'm not their accountant or their dad. It's on me to look at value for money. I am not a charity, and when you put yourself up as a commodity, I'm gonna kick the tires and leave if I don't like the price.
I'm not going to pay $60 for this, or $42, or $6/month, because it's a bad value on my end. It is less content for more money. $30 still would have been too high, but there was a price point where I, the person with the intersection of money and interest, would have said yes. That is the trade-off: you can wait around forever for somebody to spend $60 and end up with $0, or you can get three people who balked in for $20 each and end up with $60.
Look, we're all friends here, we know the Watcher crew is not so damn dumb that they didn't look into joining an existing streaming service. It's not a fuckin grand revelation that there were potentially other options, and obviously they must have thought about this for longer than ten minutes. But when your service is MUCH more expensive than its closest comparison (Nebula) and the same price as the well-established competitor you'd like to be compared to (Dropout), why on god's green earth would you think I would buy it if I was anything short of obsessed? Where is your growth plan? How is this sustainable? The absolute best plan for me is to wait until the next series of Ghost Files is over, pay $6 to watch the whole series, then cancel again.
Also you're fuckin leaving money on the table by not having delayed VOD on youtube but at this point, that's none of my business.
If it's worth $60 to you and you've got the money, you do what's right for you. But I'm out. No hard feelings! But also no $60.
(Also I do think 100% saying that the back catalog will stay on youtube is a walkback and not what he said in the video, so like, watch that)
#watcher#anyway off to watch some nebula I think#oh yeah I forgot#most of nebula cross-posts to youtube anyway
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LWJ POV Fic Recs
I've done a WWX rec list, so I thought it was about time I made one for Lan Zhan, whom I adore & can never get enough of. The fact that we couldn't see into his head during canon will forever drive me mad, & if this bothers you as much as it does me, boy do I have good news for you! There are not one but two series re-writes from LWJ's POV in this list for your reading pleasure, along with 8 other not-quite-so canon compliant fics that are nevertheless out of this world good. Not gonna lie, people, several of these would make my top 20 if I redid my favorites list today, so I wish you some very happy reading. 😉
he comes in colors by ilip13 (M, 63,596)
Thoughts: The prose was absolutely gorgeous. I loved the author’s writing style, & the way they portrayed how Lan Zhan viewed the world was breathtakingly beautiful. I appreciated the nod in the author’s note about him possibly being read as neurodivergent because I picked up on that, & it felt both familiar & comforting in an I’m-not-so-alone-after-all way. I outright sobbed at some points due to the intensity of the emotions, both Lan Zhan’s & others’.
Wei Ying’s care & consideration for Lan Zhan was very gratifying & lovely to see. The depiction of grief was deeply moving, & the dynamics between all the characters in the story were rich, deep, & very meaningful. This is a new favorite of mine, & I couldn’t stop thinking about it for days after I finished. Fic hangover is very much a possibility with this one, but it will be 100% worth it; I promise you that.
paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 (E, 53,808)
Thoughts: Barely anything hurt in this. Like, you could blink past a minimal amount of anxiety. It was mostly an adorable kid fic in which Lan Zhan very quickly found himself falling for his son’s art teacher. Wei Ying being so desperate to spend more time with both of them was heart-meltingly cute, & I loved how he just slotted so easily into their lives it was like he could’ve been there all along. If you like domesticity & gratuitous fluff, then I urge you to give this one a go. I was thoroughly charmed & added it to my favorites list immediately.
The Price of Old Wishes by SoManyJacks (E, 67,793)
Thoughts: This was absolutely fantastic. I crave Lan Zhan POVs, & a fic that was basically canon from his perspective was very much on my wish list. I was so excited when I found it, & I devoured it in a day. The tags that serve as trigger warnings are all referring to events in canon, so there’s not really much that’s going to be a surprise in that respect. If you handled canon, then I think you’d probably be fine to read this fic. I loved the explanation for Lan Zhan’s difficulty with words being selective mutism. It’s the second fic I’ve read with that idea, & I’ve loved both of them. I highly recommend this. It’s definitely been added to my favorites list.
leave all your love and your longing behind by ScarlettStorm (E, 143,609)
Thoughts: This was one of the best modern AUs for Wangxian I’ve ever read. It hooked me from the very beginning, & I absolutely melted at how sweet & caring Lan Zhan was when Wei Ying invaded his house in a panic while trying to escape from the dog that was chasing him. His cat Bunny (so cute) was a love muffin & such a comfort in the moment. The dynamics between the neighborhood help squad Lan Zhan contacted to assist with the dog & its overwhelmed owners were also incredibly heartwarming. This fic expanded beyond a love story into a lesson on the importance of community & treating each other with kindness. I can’t recommend this highly enough. I already know it’s going to be a consistent reread for me. It really is just that good.
When the Lights Come Up by brooklinegirl (E, 50,012)
Thoughts: This is more Notting Hill inspired/adjacent than strictly following that story, for which I was actually quite grateful, as there were parts of Notting Hill I wouldn’t have cared for or felt fit Wangxian’s dynamic. I loved Lan Zhan’s characterization in this so, so much. Actually, I enjoyed pretty much everyone’s characterization, even down to side characters like Lan Huan & Nie Huaisang. Wangxian’s chemistry in this was spectacular, & the yearning was FELT. I got so anxious & heartbroken during the angsty bits, but as always, brooklinegirl delivered on that happy ending with aplomb. As someone with ADHD, I lamented the lack of chapters for good stopping places, but this is a minor personal quibble & by no means takes away from the overall brilliance of the work.
Where You Fell by Sweet_William (E, 63,596)
Thoughts: The angst was REAL in this fic, y’all. The intensity of Lan Zhan’s feelings is one of my favorite things about him, & that aspect of his character was fully realized here. I cried like a baby several times in this fic. I probably lost count, to be honest. Wei Ying being homeless & begrudgingly allowing Lan Zhan to help him in small ways at first nearly broke my heart, & then it absolutely shattered into a million pieces when the story hit peak angst later on. Tissues were a necessity, but I promise you that it was all worth it in the end. The slow burn was fantastic & so, so satisfying when they finally got their happy ending. They certainly deserved it. It was very overdue!
to hold the wind by androids_fighting93 (E, 62,474)
Thoughts: I was very excited to read another Wangxian soulmates AU, & this one was particularly interesting with the execution. The first time soulmates touched they remembered a scene from their past lives together. This of course offered a wealth of opportunity for angst with the quality of the memories Wangxian would have of theirs, & it delivered exactly that.
The slow burn was torture, & I cried at a couple of different points, particularly at Lan Zhan stifling his own feelings in order to respect Wei Ying’s boundaries regarding not wanting to remember. This fic also made me incandescently angry at Jiang Fengmian & Madam Yu for being such shitty foster parents & utterly failing Wei Ying (not that it was a new feeling, heh). He got his happy ending eventually, thank fuck, because we all know I couldn’t possibly accept anything less.
And He Knew Those Silver Eyes Were Trouble by PieceofLove
Thoughts: This is basically a series rewrite of The Untamed from Lan Zhan’s POV, though the author does mix book canon in as well, like the Phoenix Mountain kiss, etc. It’s the second I’ve read, though much longer than the first & not quite as well written but only because the bar was set so high by the first! I very much enjoyed this fic. I binged it within a few days, & that’s not bad for a little over 300k. The author clearly adored Lan Zhan (as they should), so it was fun to get their take on his side of the story. I’d absolutely recommend it as worth reading, even if I still like The Price of Old Wishes best of all the Lan Zhan POV rewrites of the series I've read so far.
Adventures in Pet Sitting by raitala (E, 63,003)
Thoughts: Wei Ying was a surprise extra roommate for Lan Zhan when he showed up to his brother’s apartment to pet sit. This was the first fic I’ve read that featured Lan Zhan as the one who was under the misapprehension that he was straight due compulsory heterosexuality. Usually I see Wei Ying placed in that position, so it was an interesting change of pace.
I loved how awkward things were at first & how it built up over time with the intense sexual tension between Lan Zhan & Wei Ying. One of my favorite scenes pre Lan Zhan’s self realization earned the light dom/sub tag, & I was very jealous of Wei Ying for the experience. That’s all I’ll say so that you can find out for yourself. Nie Huaisang was another highlight of the fic. I loved his meddling & the comic relief he provided amidst the Wangxian shenanigans.
varied my velocity by fantasiavii (E, 58,876)
Thoughts: I adored Lan Zhan in this. I have a soft spot for Lan Zhan POV fics, & this one was really well done. His characterization was just perfect. My heart went out to him for the shame he carried surrounding his sexuality. It made me cry at one point. I also really enjoyed the author’s dance background & how it came through in the fic with Lan Zhan’s love of ballet. The banter & intimate moments between Lan Zhan & Wei Ying as they got closer were absolutely fantastic. I really can’t rec this highly enough. It’s a new favorite.
*Edit: So I goofed & had to replace Scales & Arpeggios in this rec list because I forgot it was an alternating POV fic, not strictly Lan Zhan's. I do promise that the brooklinegirlfic is just as good. She's one of my very favorite Wangxian authors, after all.
#mdzs#the untamed#cql#wangxian#lan zhan#wei ying#lan wangji#wei wuxian#wangxian fic rec#Temnurus rec list#this one's for you lwj#bc we love a petty bitch#he's so funny y'all#i love him so much#we goofed but we fixed it!
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I was wondering if you still have the link for that lovely gothic night gown?
It’s just my girls style! Thank you. Hope you have a great weekend. 😊
OKAY SO. this is long and kinda rambly, but I like talking about these robes and the woman who makes because I fucking LOVE them and appreciate the hell out of her work lol.
so, first off: uh, which one are you looking for? I have two, at the moment.
I currently have a black lace mid thigh length kimono with batwing sleeves and a green velvet floor length kimono with batwing sleeves (this one has pockets bc it’s not lace!!!)
(if you want pictures of either to remember what they look like, I can provide those)
regardless, both are from the same shop, and it DOES take about a year-ish or more to get them because she’s the only person that hand makes all her orders and answers her emails and everything. they’re all fantastic quality though so they’re absolutely worth it, but it does take a while to get them in due to how high in demand her shop is with just her as her only employee, basically. she does post general order updates on her blog every 2 weeks though, so you can check the status of your order often. whether it’s in cut/prep, sewing, final seams, or about to be shipped out. and you will get an email confirming your shipping address and whatnot before it’s shipped to you.
OH. and her customer service is phenomenal. I emailed her about my green robe after a year of it being in production and she put a priority on it and sent it out a week later with express shipping, without charging me extra for it. AND she gave me a permanent 20% off code attached directly to my email that never expires and works on every item in her shop solely because I was kind and didn’t attack her about my robe not being ready after the 6-8 months it was promised to be ready for. all because I just politely asked if I could pay her something extra for her to prioritize it after it being in production for so long, and she was so grateful for the positive interaction because some people are just so fucking rude, that she did so without charging me extra for the robe or the shipping, and was very apologetic about the long wait time I had gone through. I immediately placed another order for another robe after that email thread, just to support her further and show that I genuinely appreciate the time and effort that goes into all of her work, and she emailed me again afterwards to thank me directly and give me the personalized coupon code because she recognized the name and email it was placed under. so I HIGHLY recommend this woman’s shop for all your gothic robe/spooky lingerie needs!!! just be nice to her if you email her directly or I’ll kill you with my bare hands because she’s genuinely a lovely soul and deserves kindness.
she’s actually currently making me a Barbie pink lace dressing gown, with a batwing trail and batwing sleeves. I got the only one of its kind. she only had enough of that fabric left to make one in that particular shade/style and I snagged it immediately lol. it’s from her bridal collection, it originally comes in black velvet (and my god, how I YEARN for the black velvet version, it’s just much more expensive). but I’m so excited for my pink version. I can’t wait to finally get it lol.
for reference, in advance, I got the black lace one about 4 years ago for 165, and my green velvet two years ago for 245. my pink one was a clearance item I purchased last year for like 265ish and haven’t received yet, it’s still being made. and the original black velvet version of the pink one I’m having made, is like 400 or something. just to give you an expected price range before you look at the site so you’re prepared.
anyways, if you tell me which you’re looking for specifically, I can give you a direct link to it! or just a general link to her shop for y’all to check out! just let me know!! I’m always happy to help and give product links to the things I am wearing in pictures I post here or just general shop links. ☺️
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I love her so much that spending money on myself makes me feel guilty and physically ill because that money could be spent on her, buying her Legos and seeing her smile and laugh because "These are expensive! You shouldn't be buying me these!" but knowing that I'm helping her improve at receiving gifts without guilt. Because she has trauma she's healing from. And simply buying her gifts, for the sole purpose of wanting to, helps her. So yes, buying a few things for myself must be evened out with at least 20 dollars worth of Legos being gifted to her, a set she picked out over FaceTime with much argumentation on her end, only for me to prevail and her to thank me for buying her something. She finally let me buy her something without needing to give something in return. She's healing. Because I love her.
I love her so much that 20 dollars worth of Legos, in my eyes, is not enough for her. I've always been selfish, buying things for myself alongside someone else's gift to make it up to myself, ensuring the item for myself is worth more money than the other person's gift. That's selfish, greedy. I've always hated spending money on other people. Perhaps that's because I've rarely had my own things, being the oldest child. Or perhaps that's on pure materialism. But I'm perfectly content walking into a store and buying anything and everything for her without even thinking about me because the smile on her face when she receives my gifts is something I cherish with my entire being. And buying her gifts is like buying a smile from her, a guaranteed grin on her beautiful face, and maybe a bonus kiss of appreciation and thanks. I will gladly give up everything in my own cart if it meant buying her a bigger, more expensive gift that's been on her wish list for years. A gift she'd absolutely argue with, one she'd try and make me use for myself, but is her passion, not mine. And she can smile. Because I love her.
I love her so much that I have an entire list of things I can't wait to buy her. Pinky promise rings, 55 dollars each, that I've been wanting to give her since February. A keychain set telling her to "Drive safe, I need you here, Mi Amor" as a daily reminder that no matter what her mind tells her, I will always love her and need her here. Soft blankets with her favorite colors and flowers. Matching pajama sets with both pants and shorts of the same pattern so we'd always be matching. Her many Lego sets on her wish list, organized by price, occasion, and want. The places I want to take her, like the giant Lego store in New York, the huge Build-A-Bear Workshop over there too, Great Wolf Lodge, and some cool museums I've seen that she'd love too. I'd pay for all of it. Because that'd mean we'd be together. And I'd get to see her smile. It's easy to think of spending money on her. Because I love her.
I love her so much that saving money doesn't sound like such a chore. Saving for a car so that I can drive to go visit her, or saving for airplane tickets and some extra spending money to spoil her when I visit. The more money I save, the faster I can visit her. I can see her again. I can hold her, hug her, breathe her in. I can kiss her, rest my forehead against hers, I can breathe. I can rest. With her. And suddenly, spending money doesn't sound as tempting as it once was, my growing savings account seemingly more appealing as thoughts of rushing to her arms flood my mind. I can save my money, I can be patient because I love her.
I love her so much that buying her a ring sounds like the simplest thing in the world. The most natural thing. An engagement ring. A wedding ring. I'd save up for years, and the moment I have enough money, I'd pay it all off in one go, never having to make multiple payments because saving money for her is so easy. It'll make her so happy. Happier than any Lego set, happier than any blanket, hoodie, or gift I ever send her. I'd be there to give it to her in person. Present it to her, just her. It'd just be us. No peering, judging eyes, just us in a shared safe space. The most expensive gift I'd have ever bought her, giving her the biggest smile ever, and possibly a few tears. She lies when she says she hates receiving gifts. She lies when she says she hates me spending money on her. Because she knows that the day I buy her the most expensive item she'd ever receive, she'll be the happiest woman on the planet. And truthfully, her gift wouldn't be the ring.
Her gift would be me.
I love her so much that I would give her myself, every single day, for the rest of eternity. And even though I would spend every cent I own on anything for her, she'd never truly want anything other than me.
She loves me so much that she doesn't care if I'd buy her gifts or not. Because I am gift enough.
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PART TWO: A little spiel and a REINTRODUCTION!!!!
(09/11/2022) (Solar Institute Bulletin No. 20) (From Rio de Janeiro)
In São Paulo, running towards 26. Photos by Lauren Tepfer
Good morning cuties… or should I say Oi!!!!
I landed in Brasil a few hours ago. The pop star river runs — stumble half asleep into a waiting car, get to a lovely hotel room, eat some papaya off a gorgeous fruit plate, shower, crash out. I sit typing this at a wooden table near a window, looking out over Sao Paulo. A security guard waits in the hall outside my room. In total there are five men being paid to protect my body this week. I love coming to Brasil, and South America in general, and look forward to it for years. I can never believe the way the Brasilian kids took to my music, this kid from so far away somehow making sense to them, and the shows are totally electric and emotional and play on a loop in my brain for years. I love the food and the architecture and the trees. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a completely surreal feeling getting on a plane in one country with relative physical anonymity, and getting off in another to literal flash-using paparazzi and gorgeous crying kids. It happens for all of 10 days of a year, so I still think it’s sort of bizarre and eerie and a little bit fabulous, someone else’s life. I’m struck by how truly odd the notion of having a security guard is, still like something out of a movie to me, and how inextricably linked it is with coming to America. My first security guard met me at LAX and guided me through a scrum of autograph hunters with a gun tucked into his belt. Proper Dorothy not in Kansas any more moment. Today I feel like an exotic tropical fish, big slow blinks and gorgeous fins, and I’ll swim around and around in my little bowl until showtime.
My pretty fishbowl
When you read this, by the way, I’ll be twenty fucking six. TWENTY SIX! Kinda can’t believe that, but on the other hand, absolutely can. It’s been a lifetime already, you know? Besides, the lines are only fine, my body’s fitter and stronger than ever and the spiral winds around in ways I’m finding more and more rewarding. Happy to be in this beautiful country on the day the portal opens.
Taken at sunset on birthday eve
So. Tour update incoming. But first, a spiel!
I don’t know how much you’ve been following the live music industry conversation, but lemme hit you with a five minute explainer, cause I think it’s interesting, and good to know about if you’re going to concerts at the moment. Basically, for artists, promoters and crews, things are at an almost unprecedented level of difficulty. It’s a storm of factors. Let’s start with three years’ worth of shows happening in one. Add global economic downturn, and then add the totally understandable wariness for concertgoers around health risks. On the logistical side there’s things like immense crew shortages (here’s an article from last week about this in New Zealand), extremely overbooked trucks and tour buses and venues, inflated flight and accommodation costs, ongoing general COVID costs, and truly. mindboggling. freight costs. To freight a stage set across the world can cost up to three times the pre-pandemic price right now. I don’t know shit about money, but I know enough to understand that no industry has a profit margin that high. Ticket prices would have to increase to start accommodating even a little of this, but absolutely no one wants to charge their harried and extremely-compassionate-and-flexible audience any more fucking money. Nearly every tour has been besieged with cancellations and postponements and promises and letdowns, and audiences have shown such understanding and such faith, that between that and the post-COVID wariness about getting out there at all, scaring people away by charging the true cost ain’t an option. All we want to do is play for you.
Profits being down across the board is fine for an artist like me. I’m lucky. But for pretty much every artist selling less tickets than I am, touring has become a demented struggle to break even or face debt. For some, touring is completely out of the question, even if they were to sell the whole thing out! The math doesn’t make sense. Understandably, all of this takes a toll — on crews, on promoters, and on artists. You’ll notice a ton of artists cancelling shows citing mental health concerns in the past year, and I really think the stress of this stuff is a factor — we’re a collection of the world’s most sensitive flowers who also spent the last two years inside, and maybe the task of creating a space where people’s pain and grief and jubilation can be held night after night with a razor thin profit margin and dozens of people to pay is feeling like a teeny bit much.
Me personally? I’m doing pretty good. You guys have come to the shows in such mammoth numbers (we sold almost 20,000 tickets in London, like what the hell) and not having crippling stage fright hanging over me for the first time is such a fucking blessing that you could tell me I had to cycle from city to city and I’d still be loving it. But I’m not immune to the stress — just a month ago I was looking at a show that was pretty undersold and panicking, only for it to sell the remaining 2000 tickets in ten days. Wild stuff.
I wanted to put all of this in your minds to illustrate that nothing’s simple when it comes to touring at the moment, and if your faves are confusing you with their erratic moves, some of this could be playing a part. So, without further ado, some updates:
I know it seemed extremely sus that the Down Under edition of The Solar Power Tour would ever happen. But it's almost that time! I'm honestly really glad it worked out this way, we're playing so well, and I have so much to bring to these shows now I know it inside out. So consider this a REINTRODUCTION to the tour. We're coming. It's happening. Lesgo.
-- We are thrilled to be adding a show at the Adelaide Festival on March 16th. I’m psyched about this, haven’t played in Adelaide since 2014!
-- We have to cancel New Plymouth. I would love to wrap it in something to save face but honestly, it’s a pandemic and we haven’t sold enough tickets! I’m bummed, I love that venue, and I hope to play it some day in the future :—)
-- Conversely, we are adding a second show at Black Barn. Yes, I know this sounds insane but the powers that be are telling me that’s what we should do. Can’t wait to find out if this was a smart move in real time alongside you, lol! This show will take place on March 2nd, and if you come, I promise you something special and completely one-off, how’s that? ticket info here.
pre-sale code: strangeairlines
-- I’m EXXXXTREMELY thrilled to announce the support acts for these shows - Fazerdaze and RIIKI REID in Aotearoa, and the absolute huns MUNA in Australia!!! The sublime Laura Jean will join us for Perth — you know how I feel about Touchstone and now I raise you Girls On The TV. You’re welcome.
I’m really excited to play in this part of the world — it’s always a super special time for me coming home. Makes it more real. I hope I’ll see you there.
We’re gonna do a little flash sale on tour merch — fab quality, fab designs, would cop if I were you.
To finish, some recent Mexico pictures I loved, from Lauren’s clever lens.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love (twenty six times!),
L x x x x x x x
PS:
(source: received this email)
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Tangled Bonus Marathon - Tangled the Series Magazine
Introduction
There are supposedly several copies of this magazine that were published, but they are extremely hard to come by. I believe there are six issues in total, but I could only find this one issue, published in 2017, for sale. And even of it, there was only one of two copies left. This arguably makes it the rarest piece of merch covered in the marathon. Even more so than then the journal replica.
Content
It’s an activity book.
I mean that’s literally all there is to it. Later issues had like comics (all of which were reprinted in the graphic novels) and such, but this particular issue is almost entirely arts, crafts, and games.
Now, for an activity book you do get a lot of content. There are writing prompts, quizzes, art exercises, tons of crafts, hair style ideas, coloring pages, simple puzzles, and even a board game!
In addition to that there’s two promo posters, a couple of door hangers, invitations that you can cut out, and one of those paper fortune teller things that we all made in back elementary school.
Unlike some other activity books that we will look at for the marathon, these magazines are made to be destroyed, cut up, tore up, and scribbled on. I’m just not sure you want to do any of that considering their potential collector’s value.
The only gripe I have with book is it’s attempts to give life advice.
This was made early in season one’s run, so the magazine felt the need to recap a lot of stuff and give little introductions to a few new characters. Including Monty, who gets two whole pages dedicated to him and his feud with Rapunzel, along with ‘advice’ on ‘How to Agree to Disagree”.
It sucks ass!
Disney you are not allowed to teach my child conflict management!
On the surface a lot of it sounds like reasonable stuff, like be respectful, be patient, look for good in people, and shit like that.... Unfortunately, we live in a world where half of my co-works are actively trying to deny me the medicine I need to live just because they believe it’ll make gas prices cheaper for them (It won’t).
Sometimes you just don’t vibe with people, nothing wrong with that, but other times the people you hate are actual threats to your life and ‘playing nicely’ with them will get you killed. You need to teach kids how to tell the difference between dislike of something and when someone is an actual threat to them first, before you teach them the proper way to respond to a conflict, because those two things require very different responses.
Presentation
The art work is fine. It’s in the typical art style for the series. The page layouts can get a bit cluttered though. However, I’ll give the book bonus points for not having any of the potentially destructive activities, like the cut outs or the painting, be on the same page as anything else. Meaning you don’t have to pick and chose between what you want to keep or not, unlike lesser kid’s activity books I’ve seen.
Would I Recommend It
Honestly, given the price and how rare it is, this is only for the hard core collector. If you buy this brand new, like I did, you’re not going to use it as an activity book. If you do any of the activities inside, you’ll do them on scrap paper or by tracing.
I can’t promise that any of the magazines will be worth a whole lot of money in ten years time, but the ones in good condition will absolutely be resalable later for a higher price than the original market value; especially if you have the single Varian issue.
You’re right now looking a $10 dollar product getting at least a double mark up to $20/$25. I already had to pay $16 for my copy. Give it a few more years, and I’m guessing it’ll go for $30 to $40 dollars easy.
Now whether or not $40 dollars will be worth anything in a few years is another matter.
Next Up
We’re going back to the episode adaptions with Tales of Rapunzel 2: Opposites Attract.
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Yk what
fuck it
PROJECT IDEA RANTTTT
Ok so the first idea which ive admittedly had for awhile
Is making videos based off of the Gregaverse Creators Shinanigians series
Little edit like things where the comic is the same nothings changed except for instead of a comic its a little video
However i have 21 left to do and there are 25 in total so doing them all will take a bit of work but i think i can manage(somewhat)
They could be dubbed or i could just add music and sound effects to the video w/ the regular text bubbles showing up w/ no dub
I like the dubbed idea better but then again for any of this to work i need every creator includes consent so thats why i didnt wanna talk abt this one
I cant promise everyone can consent and this is a pretty cool idea but im not gonna post my friends w/o their consent thats just rude imo
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Second idea
Youtube channel
Yk like those youtube animation channels that post storytimes and rants and some other stuff?? yeah i wanna do that
Origionally i wanted to be a streamer and my friend saying that id be a funny one when i mentioned it in a call made me want to be one more
However my schedule is absolutely everywhere so i wouldnt be able to do steady streams like id like to
So a youtube channel works better!!
I can premake videos and have them ready to post on a schedule like id like it to be
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Third idea
DT COMIC SERIES
Itd be like the books up to a T so basically you can read the comic or the book and get practically the same story
Except the book will have more extra details and the comic would be more.. graphic
Itd be fun to do
A great comic idea
Plus i already have atleast 20 pages worth of story done and posted maybe more
I like it but itd prolly be started way after i catch up w/ my current projects
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Forth idea
A Gregaverse creators series except its based off of persona rps
This one is a good one but i think itd take a bit of me warming up to before i can manage it
Its a great idea
I love it
However i have alot of anxiety w/ writing a character right so writing another persons persona?? anxiety through the goddamn roof
But the rp part makes it simpler due to the fact that well they play their own character and all id have to do is write it into a story fill in a few blanks and boom!! story
Again my friends consent but itd take awhile to start anyways due to the fact im drowning in WIPs so i wont have to ask for awhile
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Fifth idea
Songs
I can write i can sing so songs would be a great outlet for me
In theory
Ive tried this before and became very dysphoric over my voice in the recordings as it sounded wrong to me
Not to mention my phones microphone is shit so id have to wait a long time until i can
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Sixth idea
Comissions!!
I want to do comissions for a multitude of reasons
I need the money for my savings
I want to start making money independently
Itd cure boredom
Plus itd get ppl some costum content!!
I already have ideas for prices and what i would comission
For example my favorite ones of these ideas is picture oneshots
I draw you a picture based off of who and what you want the story about then write abt a 3-4k word oneshot abt the drawing
The price idea for that one was 15-25USD but i think itd be worth it
The comissions would mainly be writing though as im still working on my art skills
I dont think theyre good enough for professional comissions so id prolly have the main focus on writing and stories
However i did have the idea of including added pictures
Such as you commissioned a base story of 5 chapters and decide “yk i rlly want an art peice abt this spesific part”
You could ask and pay for it!!
It be maybe 10-15USD per picture bc i plan on making this pictures extremely detailed
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Thats all the ideas for now so-
I might reblog w/ more ideas but feedback is always welcome
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Ok I hope you are ready for this mammoth. I am going to start off by telling you some cafes to visit. Eckers in Frogner is a really pretty and does nice coffee and food. Pust, which is just across the road from Majorstuen station is another cafe with a very cool atmsophere. As I have already said before if you are looking for a chain coffee shop I would pick Kaffebrenneriet. My favorite is the one by Nationaltheatre but you will probably want to go to the one from Skam which is on Skovveien. They do the best reasonably priced coffee and you must try the pastries. It is good to know you are staying in Gamle because then I will recommend a tiny brunch place called Kumi. It has the most beautiful interior and vegetarian food but I warn you it is on the pricier side. You absolutley must go to Hotel Bristol to get hot chocolate. Inside is absolutely breathtaking and has major dark academia vibes. This is quite popular so I would recommend booking a table in advance on their website. Do not let them fool you into getting two pots of hot chocolate, one is enough for two people to have two cups each. For places to eat, I would first recommend a burrito bar called Freddy Fuego. They have a vegetarian option and lots of options which are all delicious and not badly priced. For pizza go to Villa Paradiso, there are a few of these over the city. If you want a more general Italian restaurant I would try Olivia by the fjord. Great food but more expensive. If you like Japanese food I can tell you about a tiny, tucked away restaurant called Izakaya on Olavs Plass. If you just want to buy snacks or something to cook at your airbnb I can tell you again the cheapest supermarket by far is Kiwi. Now for the thrift shops! Oslo has some amazing thrift stores and Grünnerløkka is the place you want to be. You absoltuely have to go to Robot! This is the coolest thrift shop of all in my opinion. Lots of good finds and a huge shelf of second hand sunglasses. There's also Velouria and Good Vibes Vintage. UFF is worth a look in Løkka but they have a much bigger, I think better store across the city in Prinsens Gate you should check out. The best budget friendly thrift store is Fretex. They are linked with the Salvation Army and you can get items as low as 50nok, which I looked up is about the equivilant of 7 aussie dollars. Next I've got a list of other things nice things you might like to do if you have the time. I saw you like art from your blog so I thought I'd recommend you some galleries. I mentioned before the National Gallery and Museum are free on Thursdays and the Munch Museum is free on Wednesdays from 6pm to 9pm. Astrup Fearnley is the only one without a free day. But I also have some smaller, lesser known galleries for you. It is worth checking out whether Peder Lund, Galleri Riis or Galleri Golsa have any exhibitons on while you are there. They are all free and very small, only a few rooms each. Galleri Golsa seems confusing to find but it is opposite a gym carpark and the door is heavy to open but I promise you're in the right place. They are well worth visitng. I would also recommend visiting a huge lake outside the city called Songsvaan. I know it looks far on a map but it only takes 20 minutes on one line and is still within your zone 1 ticket. There is something so magical about walking round the lake on a winter evening with it frozen over and snow covering the trees. They even have a little cafe. You will notice the increase in cold so you definitely want to your wool innersoles and tights under trousers here, I would recommend that if you venture out of the city anywhere or when it gets dark. If you like hiking and it's not too icy walk up Grefsenkollen and you will get a view over the entire city. In my opinion this is better than the view from Holmenkollen. Since you are staying in Gamle I will also recommend visiting Ekerberg woods which is a ten minute tram ride away and has a scultpure park and also the Botanisk Hage at Tøyen. It is small but pretty inside and guaranteed to be warm. I hope this is a help to you!
oh my god thank you so much, i know this must have taken a lot of time and effort to put together so i hope you know i really appreciate it!!!! these all sound wonderful i am about to start making notes literally right after i finish typing this xx
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DISCLAIMER: I bought these tools with my own money paying full price on Amazon. No one has paid for or coerced my opinion in any way.
Here are two Bradford pear spoons (one symmetric and the other right handed).
I had an online conversation about the quality and usability of certain mass produced tools and the Ukrainian company Hutsuls came up. I said that I own the $20 set that has the 3 knives, gloves, honing compound, strop, and canvas roll-up.
I promised to make a spoon using just that set.
1. This is using a Bradford pear branch that came down in a storm a month or two ago, and has been anchor sealed and sitting in my shed.
2. I put a sharpening on these tools using just w&d sandpaper glued to plywood, and honing compound on leather. They will be meeting the diamond and ceramic plates soon, and I will be adjusting some backs and bevels.
3. The handles are unmodified as are the be els and blade backs.
Here are my findings. They are absolutely worth $20.
The slöjd knife is 2-1/4" so it is more like the Mora #120 than the #106. If you hold them side by side the blade looks almost exactly the same.
The spoon hook knife is right handed. It has the sharp point like the old style Mora #164. And I can only assume the strong semi-circular shape is akin to the older style Mora #164 although I don't actually own one of those. So it differs from my current Mora #164's semi-carotoid shape. But it is similar in shape. It is also, a thicker blade material as well.
Thirdly it also includes a detail knife 1-5/8" long and 1/4" wide. This was a new tool to me. It goes around corners quite well.
Overall, all the blades cut well and held their respective edges. Through the two spoons I honed the hook knife about 5 strokes on green and 5 on pink. Tho other blades never felt like they needed it.
All that said the only "con" would be the handles. They are flat with some rounding. Hotspots and blisters. Enough said. Need wrapped or rehandled. :)
#handtoolwoodworking #maker #diy #woodwork #woodworking #wood #axecarving #spooncarving #greenwoodcarving #pear #pearwood #bradfordpear #bradfordpearwood #hutsuls
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Apple Watch Series 8: Should You Buy?
Apple Watch Series 8 Review: A Comprehensive Evaluation
In the fast-evolving world of wearable technology, Apple continues to set the benchmark with each new release. The Apple Watch Series 8 has been making waves since its launch, promising exciting updates and features. In this in-depth review, we’ll delve into the Apple Watch Series 8, examining its design, performance, health and fitness capabilities, battery life, and more. Let’s explore what makes the Apple Watch Series 8 stand out in the highly competitive smartwatch market.
Read More: Apple Watch Series 8 — The Best Apple Smartwatch
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Apple Watch Series 8 Review: Unveiling the Innovation
The Apple Watch Series 8 is the latest addition to Apple’s impressive lineup of smartwatches. It combines style, functionality, and innovation in one sleek package. In this section, we will break down the key features that make this smartwatch a must-have for tech enthusiasts.
Design and Build Quality
The Apple Watch Series 8 retains the classic design elements that Apple is known for, with a few subtle upgrades. The slim and lightweight aluminum or stainless steel case offers durability and a premium look. The always-on Retina display is 20% more durable, making it perfect for outdoor activities.
Performance and Speed
Powered by the new S8 chip, the Series 8 delivers blazing-fast performance. Apps launch quickly, and navigating through the watch’s interface is smoother than ever. This boost in speed significantly enhances the overall user experience.
Health and Fitness Tracking
One of the standout features of the Series 8 is its comprehensive health and fitness tracking capabilities. The built-in ECG and blood oxygen sensors provide valuable health insights. It can even detect low and high heart rates, potentially saving lives. The watch also boasts an improved sleep tracking feature that helps you monitor and improve your sleep patterns.
Battery Life
Apple has made significant improvements in battery life with the Series 8. You can now enjoy up to 48 hours of usage on a single charge, making it more convenient for everyday wear. This is a substantial upgrade, especially for those who like to track their activities around the clock.
Connectivity
The Series 8 offers seamless connectivity with your iPhone. It supports fast charging, allowing you to get a full day’s worth of battery life with just a 45-minute charge. The watch also includes 5G support, enabling faster data speeds and better call quality.
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Water Resistance
If you’re into water sports or just want peace of mind during rainy weather, the Series 8 has you covered with its impressive water resistance. It can withstand being submerged up to 50 meters, making it suitable for swimming and water-based activities.
watchOS 8
The Series 8 comes with the latest watchOS 8, introducing several new features and enhancements. From improved messaging options to new workout modes, watchOS 8 enhances the overall functionality of the watch.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is the Apple Watch Series 8 compatible with older iPhone models?
Yes, the Series 8 is compatible with iPhone 6s and later models, running iOS 15 or later.
Can I make calls directly from the Series 8 without my iPhone nearby?
Absolutely! With the Series 8’s 5G support, you can make calls, send messages, and stream music without needing your iPhone nearby.
Is the sleep tracking feature accurate?
Yes, the sleep tracking feature is highly accurate and provides valuable insights into your sleep patterns, helping you improve your sleep quality.
How does the ECG feature work, and is it reliable?
The ECG feature records the electrical signals from your heart and can detect irregular rhythms. It’s a valuable tool for monitoring your heart health, and it has been proven to be reliable.
Can I customize the watch face on the Series 8?
Yes, you can choose from a wide range of watch faces and even customize them to display the information that matters most to you.
Does the Series 8 support third-party apps?
Absolutely! The Series 8 has a vast library of third-party apps available on the App Store, allowing you to tailor your watch’s functionality to your needs.
Read More: Apple Watch Series 8 — The Best Apple Smartwatch
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Conclusion
The Apple Watch Series 8 is a testament to Apple’s commitment to innovation and excellence in the world of wearable technology. With its sleek design, powerful performance, and advanced health and fitness features, it’s a valuable companion for anyone looking to lead a healthier and more connected life.
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Forage - Cowbridge, Wales
As the idea of this little blog came after we visited some places, I cannot provide photos. I will take one for the next post, I promise.
First impressions. Spacious, very natural looking, modern but still cosy building with lots and lots of wood, sustainability and from top-top-bottom windows. Lies outside Cowbridge, on a large field which has plenty of recently planted little treelets - if this word exists at all. The car park is enough, it is easy to find a space among the Teslas and Range Rovers. Visited Forage once or twice with bikes for a coffee, but to be honest that was forgettable. Inside, there are two main parts: the restaurant / bar area and the farm shop area.
Hygenie. All the interior has a lovely design, the space in general is sparkling clean and the shop is very tidy and appealing. From the cutleries to the wooden fan on the ceiling via the shelves - everything looks and feels new and taken care of. Felt a bit awkward, because after a walk in the rain in a muddy forest we didn't really have much time to go further than the Forage, and we basically sat down for an easy lunch in this sparkling clean place in muddy wellies and waterproof trousers, wearing hiking clothes. No make up, no hair, no pretty. Sorry about that, dear Forage!
Service. Before we asked for a table, because of experience, we asked for the vegan menu to check first, just in case. The waitress was extremely helpful, answered all of our questions and helped us with a vegan selection; which were mostly items from the main menu, veganised.
We had to wait 20-25 minutes for a table, but we didn't mind, because we wanted to see the farm shop anyway. Just O. M. G. Their selection is what I call Selection with a capital, because they have basically everything a fancy pantry needs. Artisan cheese, craft beers, exciting pickled goodies, handmade soaps and lovely looking desserts and confectionary just to mention some. It is really worth a check, because I have no space to list everything what I have seen; but briefly: if you go there to look for something authentic, or "classy farming" gift, guaranteed you will find one. No problem if you are looking for gluten free, vegan, or ethical either; we really struggled to not to do a big shopping there.
After we got our table, we had to submit our orders at the bar counter. As we didn't have time for a proper lunch, we chose some sandwiches, an oat based flat white and a Diet Coke.
Then we were waiting for 40 minutes to get those sandwiches. I'm not sure if someone had to harvest (?) the beet for other half's sandwich, or had to run and capture a chicken for mine; but we were a bit hangry now. Waiting patiently, finally we got our sandwiches accompanied with a decent amount of rocket salad. The amounts are big, the artisan bread were fresh, tasty and soft.
Quality. My meal was absolutely good. Maybe the salad could have bore with some sauce, but I was impressed the nicely toasted bread with the melted brie inside. Other half was a bit disappointed, because the beets took over the flavour of everything else in his vegan sandwich. Basically it was a layer of spinach, a cold blob of tasteless butternut squash cream and several slices of pickled beetroot - again - with no sauce. He had the same side salad like me. The beverages were fine, you can always trust a good can of Coke - I know, I am trash, but even the Diet one. And his coffee was made from a fancier coffee than we had at our last visit, he said it is much better.
Summary. We know that the prices of this area are not the friendliest, but two sandwiches and two basic drinks for ~20 quid was a bit of "come on...". There are some areas to improve, like for example the vegan sandwich recipe, or the waiting time for these sandwiches; but otherwise we liked this above mentioned classy farming look and feel. Maybe we will check back in summertime if they have any good looking desserts or artisan ice creams even.
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bang a gong.
summary: you’re tired of being a virgin, and when you meet harry at a bar, he’s more than happy to help you out.
warnings: literally all porn, very little plot. fingering, m+f receiving oral, dom!harry
word count: 11.1k
listen to while reading: bang a gong (get it on) by t. rex
You should say - for the record, or perhaps to maintain your dignity - that this is never the type of place you’d generally be caught in.
If you hadn’t been dragged from your faux pretense of nonchalance after you got dumped, you never would have come. It wasn’t like it was a serious relationship - barely two months - but it was your first since graduating college and perhaps you thought, maybe, you were in with this guy for the long haul, but he didn’t agree. You suppose it was a silly thought (your friends had told you not to expect too much from a former frat boy, anyway.) And it did prove to be, anyway, dissipating the second you woke up to a text saying he didn’t reckon things were working out, and could he please have his hoodie back?
Whatever. You hadn’t been too sad but your friends insisted you needed to let go of him and that is exactly why you’re here, pressed into a booth at a high end nightclub you can’t afford, your friends and the randoms they’d pulled from the dance floor packed so tight that you can feel your thighs sticking to the leather seats and to each other. You hadn’t intended on drinking anything because the prices of the drinks would absolutely kill your bank account, but that, according to your friends, is exactly why you’re here - meet rich guys who frequent here, to have drinks bought for you with false promises of a night of fun, before leaving them high and dry while you are thoroughly drunk.
A good concept, in theory, and it was enough to tug you off of the couch and dig through your closet to find a suitable dress to wear. Perhaps you’d support it more, though, if you had any experience in seducing guys at all - the entire night, you’d merely been grabbing the extra shots your friends had gotten from the guys they’d located.
“Aren’t you having fun?” your friend asks, and you turn to look at her from where she sits next to you. The music is thumping some song you can’t recognize and it rings in your ears as you raise your eyebrows at her. Speak louder, your eyebrows say, and Natalie leans closer so her lips are nearly brushing your ear. “I said, are you having fun?”
Are you? Well, you’re not sure. Even if you’d done nothing to earn the two shots you’d downed, they did taste better than the cheap bars you and your friends frequented on weekends. And it was entertaining, watching guys nearly twice your age seriously believe they’d end up between the sheets with your friends later. So you shrug, bringing your hand to fan at your neck, trying desperately to alleviate the heat burning at your skin. “It’s alright.”
It’s good enough for Natalie and she turns back to Valerie, whose legs are swung over the lap of some 50 year old who had got you all your second round of shots. His hand is pressed to her waist, fingertips digging into her skin through her dress, and it makes your stomach churn to see, so you drop your eyes to the table, where you’ve been picking at your screen protector for the past 15 minutes.
It’s times like this you wish you were a lightweight but you barely feel tipsy, and you’d like nothing more than to rip away your inhibitions and go out and dance against some guy who you’ll never see again, but you find it too awkward to do while practically sober. You bring your eyes up to scan at the dance floor - God, there’s so many girls with the same ideas you had, presumably. The demographic of this club is rich old men and broke, early-20s girls and you don’t know how much you really like to be one of them.
Though you can’t deny that the drinks are good.
“Stop thinking so much!” you glance back at Natalie with your brows furrowed. You hate the way she can practically feel what you’re thinking because you’d have been more than happy to tug at your screen protector until it peeled off of your entirely-too-vulnerable phone but she’d never allow it. Never let you sit here, in this booth, while everyone else is having a good time. Sometimes you appreciate it and sometimes you don’t and you aren’t quite sure of how you’re feeling about it now. “You know what I think?”
You can’t fucking hear her and you lean your head in more, awating her response as your narrowed eyes look around the crowd on the dance floor again. No one catches your eye but nobody catches your eye here, either, and you reckon you’d have better luck roaming the streets of LA to find someone worth your time.
“I think you should go get laid,” Natalie tells you, and you exhale, a humorless smile turning your lips up. “I’m serious! There has to be some hot, rich guy here. What, did that guy fuck you so good you never want anyone else again?”
The thought of being pinned under any guy that your eyes are glazing over could make you gag, but you reckon she may be right. Unbeknownst to your friends, you’d never fucked anyone and you hadn’t necessarily felt the need - you’d done just about everything else under the sun, and not a single guy you’d given a blowie to, or who’d fingered you, had ever been able to find the spot that made you squirm more than anything. So you’d never quite understood why having someone’s dick inside of you was such a big deal but you can’t deny, now, that getting it out of the way does sound quite nice, solely to boost your self esteem after getting dumped by a graduated frat boy named Logan.
There wasn’t much of a bigger blow to your ego than that.
You tug your gloss-coated bottom lip in between your teeth, dropping your eyes back down to Natalie’s, and she widens her eyes at you in a way that further encourages you to get the whole virginity thing out of the way. It’s not like it matters, anyway. “Maybe,” you tell her, entirely too quiet compared to the music pulsing through the club, and she smiles, leaning back in the booth. You’re not sure if she heard you because you can’t hear whatever she says next, but it doesn’t matter - you’re already pushing your way out of the booth, calling excuse me to where Alexa is leaning close to the man she’d found (and he’s, by far, the most attractive of any of the three guys your friends had located, but Alexa has always been the best at finding the hottest guys, and you’re nearly positive she actually will end up fucking him tonight.) She leans forward so you can climb behind her, awkwardly in your heels, and you tug at one of her curls as you clamber out of the booth.
Working your way through a crowd of people to the bar is a skill you’ve all but mastered and at a club like this, it’s a lot easier than you’d expected. There’s less people dancing than you’d thought though you shouldn’t be shocked - it certainly isn’t like the usual clubs you go to. And so, you push your way through the people dancing to the bar, and there’s a few people spread out on the barstools. You scan the back of them - you can’t see any of their faces, naturally, so you merely judge from their hair, and you take a few steps forward and settle yourself onto a stool besides a man with messy brown curls, a pint of beer in front of him.
When you peek at his side profile he certainly looks younger than you’d expected - hardly older than you, if at all. And that’s a score for you, you figure. You’d much prefer to lose your virginity to someone who doesn’t seem like they could be your dad. But he is wearing sunglasses and that’s a bit weird - certainly not a dealbreaker but odd enough to make you wonder.
You aren’t sure what to say - should’ve listened closer when Natalie, Valerie or Alexa were seducing their men for drinks - and for a moment you sit in silence.
It’s only when you turn your head to take another look at him, at the sunglasses sitting at the very top of his nose, that the silence between you two is broken, and his head tilts ever so slightly towards you. “What’re you looking at?”
God, his voice. You’d always had a thing for British accents and his is better than most, deep and raspy and slow, and you shift on your stool. And it sounds just a bit familiar but you can’t exactly pinpoint where - well, it doesn’t matter. If things go further between you two, tonight, you surmise he’d forever be the sexiest voice you’d slept with.
But you can’t get your hopes up. After all, the sunglasses in a dimly lit, fancy club is enough to make you just a bit suspicious of what type of person he is, and you refuse to hand over your V-card to a weirdo.
“Just wondering what your glasses are for.” Figure it’s best to figure that out before you let this get any further. You don’t want to waste your time. And you pointedly glance up at the ceiling, eyes darting around the walls of the club. “S’not like there’s much light here to protect your eyes from, is there?”
He chuckles, then, and you raise your eyebrows. “Guess I just don’t want people to see me,” he tells you, and when he turns to face you fully your eyes scan over his face and - God, he really does look familiar. And he sounds familiar. Have you met him before? No, you don’t think you could ever forget someone like him.
But - well, maybe. You weren’t necessarily known for having the keenest of memories.
You smile at him, brows creasing together. He certainly does seem to be a mystery and you’d love to uncover it in more ways than one. So you lean forward, resting your arm on the bartop. “Seems like the wrong kind of place, if you don’t want people to see you.”
“I reckon it’s working - you’re the first person to talk to me all night.” A hand - a large hand, you note - goes up to his hair, fingers brushing through his curls, and your eyes follow its path in a way that certainly isn’t anywhere close to subtle. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”
Is he flirting with you? You’re not quite sure but God, you hope so, because so far he keeps getting better and better to you. So you turn to completely face him and you can see the small smirk on his lips, as if he knows what he’s doing to you without even having to try. “Are you going to tell me your name?”
You can see his eyebrows raise as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. Your eyes can’t help but follow every movement he makes and you don’t care if you look desperate - truthfully, you are. You hadn’t even seen his face in its entirety but you suspect your friends would be impressed if they could see the sort of guy you’d located. Even if you leave this club and never see him again, you’re not sure you could ever forget the way he’s making your stomach flip just with a small quirk of his lips.
When he’s set his drink down again and brought his wrist up to wipe at the beer still lingering on his lips - is that a Gucci watch? - he tilts his head at you, curls flopping, and then says, “Tell me yours first,” so you do. And he nods slowly before telling you, “My name is Harry.”
Harry.
Your mind is whirring because suddenly the pieces are coming together - and you hadn’t been in your One Direction phase for a few years but you certainly know who Harry is. And the fact that you’re just sitting here, right now, talking to him in a club filled with too many other girls to count, seems like an accomplishment in itself. But you don’t want him to know you know, though surely he must assume you do, so you nod in the same fashion he did, as if you’re content with what he’d told you.
“Harry,” you repeat, as if testing the name out on your tongue. He spins his stool slightly so he’s facing you and your knees knock into his slightly. And then you raise your eyebrows at him, reaching down to tug your dress down slightly where it’s been riding up on your thighs, and you don’t miss the way his eyes follow your movements. “Are you going to let me see your eyes, Harry?”
Harry laughs slightly and then stands, and you look up at him, confusion blazing in your eyes. Is he leaving? God, you hope not. You don’t want your experience with him to be over before it's begun, no matter what it ends up being. But then he motions, with one finger, for you to follow him and you’re standing so fast your head is spinning, and you trail after him as he leads you through the crowd of people, and you crane your neck to try and see where your friends are but you can’t see them anywhere.
It’s fine by you, you decide, as Harry stops in front of a small, darkened booth towards the back of the club. You’re surprised but positively overjoyed that it’s empty - seems like the perfect type of table for anyone looking to get lucky. And, Christ, you are.
You slide into the booth and Harry slides in right next to you, leaving hardly a few inches between you two as he rests his arm against the back of the booth oso he can face you, and, beneath the table, your ankle links with his. You give him a moment to see if he’ll pull his foot loose from yours, but he never does, and it makes your heart race.
“Gonna take off your glasses for me, Harry?” you tilt your head forward - where you’d moved to is closer to the source of the music and it’s harder to hear, all of a sudden, but you can’t bring yourself to pretend that’s why your face gets so close to his. His breath smells like beer and mints, and you can see the smirk spreading further across his face. “I’ve been dying to see your eyes. Bet they’re pretty.” And you’re not quite sure where this confidence is coming from, because you’ve hardly tried to seduce anyone like this, but you’ll lay it on thick for him.
He’s different.
He chuckles and you can feel his breath, hot against your face. It sends a shiver down your spine and you hope the instinct was imperceptible. “Take them off for me, then,” and you do, reaching up to pull the glasses off his nose, and you can tell - just by the feeling of them in your hands - that they’re more expensive than anything you’d ever held in your life.
As if everything before this wasn’t proof enough that you truly were talking to Harry Styles, sliding the glasses down his nose and meeting his eyes really validates it. You can’t help the way your lips part as you reach down to rest his sunglasses on the sticky table and you hope you don’t look as amazed as you’re feeling.
God, you have to be dreaming. The guy you cherry pick from the randoms sitting at a bar is - him. And you’re sitting with him, his fingers dancing across your shoulder blade where his arm is thrown lazily over the back of the booth, your ankles intertwined.
16-year-old you never could’ve believed it, but 22-year old you is having the time of her life.
“You look a bit shocked,” Harry murmurs, barely heard over the pounding music, but you hear it as clearly as if he’d yelled it in your ear.
You shift your mouth closer to his ear, so close that you know your lips graze his skin when you tell him, “Prettier than I’d expected, s’all.” It’s then - with a start - that you feel his other hand drop to your knee, pressing circles into your soft skin. You could nearly moan at the feeling and you know, suddenly, that this’ll definitely go where you want it to, assuming you don’t fuck it up.
And you won’t. Won’t let this opportunity go to waste.
“Ah.” When he tilts his head ever so slightly your lips are hardly a centimeter apart and with one shift forward you could close the gap, press your mouth to his, slip your tongue into his mouth. Force this into exactly the direction you need it to go, feel his hands drop to your hips, pulling you into his lap, cock hard against your core where your dress is riding up your hips.
As soon as you start to lean in, to make every fantasy you’ve had a reality, you feel two fingers, harsh against your shoulder, and they don’t belong to Harry.
You glance up, eyes narrowing at whoever had disrupted you, and standing in front of your booth is Alexa, wearing a small smile reeking of both excitement and guilt. And you can’t bring yourself to be mad at her for interrupting you, even though you want to, as she drops your phone onto the table.
“Sorry for interrupting,” she calls above the music, and you roll your eyes, leaning over Harry’s shoulder to move your head closer to his. In your ear you can hear him groan softly as your chest presses against his, and you can feel his arm that had been over the top of the booth drop to wrap around your waist - exactly where you’d wanted to feel it. “We’re gonna head out. Are you going to come?” The question is innocent but you can tell she already knows the answer as her eyes drop down to Harry’s arm, secure around your waist, fingers rubbing patterns into your hip through your tight, black dress.
“No,” you tell her, and Harry squeezes your hips in approval. “No, I’m gonna stay.”
“Are you sure?”
It’s then that Harry turns his head to look at her, effectively pressing your bodies closer than you’d thought they could go, and you can see the exact moment Alexa recognizes him - the way her eyes widen and her lips part into a smile. You’re not sure if she’s simply shocked that she’s seeing Harry in person or if she’s surprised you’re wrapped around him, but either way, she looks absolutely shell-shocked. “Promise I’ll take good care of her,” Harry tells your friend, and the double entendre makes you shift slightly, thighs rubbing against each other.
He better take good care of you.
You bring your hand up to wave to Alexa and you can’t hear the response she squeaks out before she’s gone, and you don’t look to see her go back to your friends. You merely lean back, just a bit, pressing your hands to Harry’s shoulder to look at him.
“Gonna take good care of me, then?” you raise your eyebrows and you can see Harry’s pupils dilating as he stares at you, and you shift closer to him, practically in his lip. The music changes, then, and you hadn’t been paying attention to it before but now, Bang a Gong seems quite fitting for the moment. “Hope you follow through on that.”
It’s then that he leans forward, eliminating the distance between your faces as his lips press to yours. And you hardly have a moment to even comprehend it as his hand rises to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, and you moan into his mouth just about immediately. Harry’s tongue slips into your mouth and one of your hands drags up to the back of his neck, nails tracing along his sweaty skin. You’re not sure you’ve ever truly appreciated being kissed until right now, feeling his lips slotted against yours, the way his hand is pushing further up your thigh until his fingertips are creeping up the cheap material of your black dress.
You only pull away when you need to catch your breath, and Harry’s arm keeps you so close to him that the thought of regaining your composure seems too far away to consider. You’re not sure you’ll ever recover from that and you know there’s so fucking much more to come and you truly have scored, even if you only end up with kiss swollen lips to show for it.
But you reckon he has a thing for hickeys. It’s just a vibe you get from some guys, and as soon as the thought settles into your brain Harry proves it - mouth moving down to just below your jaw, and you drop your head back with a whine as you feel him beginning to suck a dark mark into your skin. His hand on your hip clutches your dress between his fingers, pulling the material tighter to your body than you’d even thought it could go, and it’s all the leverage he needs to pull you as close to him as you can go without being on top of him.
Which - you aren’t opposed to, but you’d always pictured your first time being below an incredibly handsome man.
(Though, you hadn’t ever pictured your first time being with your teenage crush, so you shouldn’t start relying on your fantasies now, you guess.)
When you shift your leg so it’s hooked across his, he pauses, pulling back to glance at the mark he’d left on your skin. In the dim light in the back of the club you’re not sure how well he’d be able to see it, but he grins as he examines it. Your fingers tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck and you can feel him shiver beneath you and it makes your clit throb. “I think,” he tells you, leaning in so his mouth is right at the bottom of your ear, and you fight back a whimper at how deep his voice had gotten - dropped nearly an octave since the last time he spoke. “I think we should take this somewhere else.”
Harry squeezes your bare thigh, then, fingers just a few inches from the hem of your panties. You’d let him pin you to the booth, fuck you hard where anyone could walk by and see but - of course - that isn’t feasible. And as much as you truly do not care about losing your virginity, you don’t think you want it to be here, so you nod your approval. In an instant he’s out of the booth, fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugging you out after him. You grab his sunglasses and your phone, resting on the sticky table. You stumble as soon as you stand up and you’re not sure why - you think you’re just a bit overwhelmed with everything that had happened in the past 20 minutes, and the fact that Harry fucking Styles is almost certainly taking you to bed.
“Hang on,” you tell him, and when he turns to look back at you with an eyebrow raised, you reach forward to perch his glasses on top of his nose, preserving the anonymity you knew he wanted. He smiles slightly as he reaches up to push them further up his nose, and then he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him as you begin to walk towards the door.
Your friends are gone, you note, as you pass the booth you’d occupied earlier. Your phone, firm in your hand, has been buzzing incessantly since Alexa dropped it off but you haven’t bothered to check what the notifications are - your friends, surely wondering what you were doing, where you were going, when you would be home. And you didn’t know, truly, but you hoped it wouldn’t be anytime soon.
Harry pulls you through the doors of the club into the moist, nighttime air, and immediately you’re shivering - it’s chilly, just a bit. Not too bad, but you can tell it’s just rained by the way your foot sinks into a puddle of water, soaking through your cheap black heels.
You pay it no mind - just keep walking in pace with him, wondering, briefly, if there’ll be a time when you wake up from this. Perhaps right as he slides inside of you, filling you up so good, you’ll squeeze your eyes shut and moan and when you open them you’ll be in your bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you didn’t have such a rampant imagination.
There’s no way this can truly be real but at the same time it is - the way his fingers tap against your hip feels so real. The way he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple as he turns you both down the street, it feels like it can’t possibly be a dream.
“What are you thinking about?” his voice sends vibrations rolling through your body and now that you’re free of music blaring through your head, muffling every word the pair of you spoke, you can appreciate it more - the rasp in his tone, how deep and slow he speaks. You could nearly moan at that but you hold back, biting on your tongue to prevent any loose noises from slipping out.
You lean up so your mouth is close to his ear like you had in the club, even though there’s no music surrounding you to make it necessary - you like the way he tightens his grip on your hip when you breathe against his ear. “Just wondering where you’re taking me.”
That wasn’t, in fact, what you were thinking about, but you didn’t think you could muster up the courage right now to tell him how bad you want him inside of you.
Harry points down the street and you squint to what he’s motioning to - “Have a driver waiting for me. Gonna take us to my hotel room, not too far from here.”
“And then what?”
He raises his eyebrow as he glances down at you, and you can see the amusement twinkling in his eyes even on such a dimly lit street. “And then -” he turns into a parking lot, just behind the club you’d been in, and you can hear the distant thumping music from inside - “I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
Christ. You nearly whimper just at the implication and your mind speeds off, leaving your body behind, imagining every single thing he could do to you - or you could do to him - or anything. You can picture a thousand different scenarios and every single one ends with you in his hotel bed, your V-card firmly in his pocket.
It’s then that Harry stops in front of a sleek, black car - raps two knuckles on the tinted window of the driver’s seat and it rolls down almost immediately, as though it had been waiting for his signal. You can’t hear what he murmurs to the driver as he ducks his head inside the window and you don’t strain your mind to try and listen - within a few seconds he’s stepping back, opening the door to the backseat and ushering you inside.
You’d never been in a nicer car before but you shouldn’t be shocked - the outfit he’s wearing tonight could pay your rent for the next four months. There’s a partition between the backseat and the front and you’re beyond thankful as Harry slides in beside you, slamming the door shut, and he doesn’t give you a moment to process anything before his lips are on yours.
You wouldn’t dream of complaining as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you, and he’s groaning into your mouth as his hand drifts downwards to cup your ass through your dress but it’s not enough for him and you can tell. Fingers push up the bottom of the cheap material so he can slip his hand beneath it, hand cold against the back of your thigh and he slides his hand further up until he’s groping your arse once more.
“Fuck,” you breathe, and you can feel Harry smirking against your lips - a smug bastard, he is, but you find you don’t truly care. You pull your mouth from his, feeling his teeth tugging at your bottom lip, but you’re hardly disconnected a moment before you throw your leg over his thighs, straddling him, and he moans like music to your ears.
He uses his grip on your ass to force your hips to rock against the bulge, prominent even through his pants. His other hand tugs your dress up to your hips, letting the material bunch around your waist, and immediately his hand comes down hard on your ass - you squeal, dropping your forehead against his, as he rubs over the spot he’d just smacked.
“Y’like that?” You nod, pressing your lips to the side of Harry’s neck as he lands another slap down on your bum. Your hips press harder into his, feeling the pressure on your clit as you roll against him. “Yeah, know you do. Dirty girl.”
And - you’re not sure why - but you drop your lips to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe and feeling the way his cock twitches beneath you. “Can I tell you something?”
He nods, and you bring your hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his sweaty curls. Harry tilts his head to the side and your lips briefly brush, feather light, as you slow the pace your hips are rocking, savoring every brush of your panty clad clit against the material of his pants. “Anything,” he mutters, head dropping against the headrest, and you reach down to press your palm to his cock. God, he’s so hard and he feels so big too, too big to even fit in you, but you know damn well you’ll try your very best to make it work.
Even if you’ve never done it before, and before you can wonder if it’s the best time or thing to tell him, you lean in. “I’ve never had sex before.”
Harry certainly seems shocked and the way his lips part goes straight to your ego - do you seem so good at all of this that he’d suspected you’d done it time and time again? Maybe he’s confused as to why you told him and truthfully, you are, too. Just felt like the kind of thing he’d like to know. Your ex boyfriend had certainly wanted to know, and two days after you’d told him he’d ended things.
Maybe some guys don’t want to take girls’ virginities, but judging by the way Harry’s fingers dig further into your ass, you suspect he does.
“Never?” There’s the surprise thick in his voice and you nod, grasp on his cock tightening ever so slightly, and he groans beneath you. “God. Never would’ve thought. Bloody good at this.”
Yep, there’s your ego inflating, and you shrug. “Done just about everything else. Just haven’t gotten to the good part.” Another smack lands against your ass and you moan, pushing back against his palm as he smooths his hand over your skin.
He leans back, then, shifting his hips, and you can see his pupils dilating more and more as he glances down at the way your cunt presses to his cock - “Why don’t you show me what you can do, then?”
You’re much more than willing, and you lean in to give Harry one final kiss before pushing yourself off of him and sitting, on your knees, on the seat beside him. He’s watching you so intently you could almost feel judged but you love it - love the way he watches you push your hair behind you, how he reaches down to slowly undo the zipper of his fancy dress pants, but you wanna do it yourself. You push his hand away, wrapping your hand around his wrist, and surely he’s strong enough to resist the dominant act you’re playing if he wanted to but you can tell he doesn’t. You finish unzipping his pants and he lifts his hips slightly so you can shimmy them down his thighs, just enough so you’re face to face with his cock, thick and bulging through his briefs.
You don’t give yourself a moment to examine just how big he is - bigger than you’d anticipated when you were on top of him and when you’d felt him up. You’d sucked off plenty of guys and none of them came close to his size but you’ve mastered the faux confident facade as you shift backwards, leaning down with your ass high in the air to press a soft kiss against Harry’s cock through his boxers.
He groans, those glasses slipping down his nose, and his wandering fingers end up dancing down your back - you’re not sure where he’s going but you shift forward to give him easier access to your ass, if that’s what he wants, and your fingers hook in the waistband of his boxers to pull them over his cock.
Jesus, yeah, he is big. You wrap your hand around him, pumping experimentally a few times, listening to the way Harry moans brokenly. You wonder, briefly, when he’s last done this - he looks as though it’s been a bit too long but, well, you suppose you can’t judge how sensitive he is when just the feeling of his hand splayed across your lower back is wetting your panties faster than anything has before.
Lips press a wet kiss against the tip of his cock, just briefly, before you wrap your lips around his length and push our head down - a gurgled cry escapes his throat and you nearly smirk around him, taking him as far down your throat as you can until your nose is just about brushing his pelvis. Your hands press to his thighs and you can feel him growing stiffer in the confines of your mouth by the second. Fingers tangle in your hair, forcing your head down, and with any other guy you’d roll your eyes but there’s something different about him, something that makes you like the dominance. Any semblance of it that you’d had seconds before is gone and there’s a smack against your ass, causing you to cry out against his cock.
Normally you pull off of guys after 15 seconds (or so) but Harry doesn’t let you, holds you down, and you hollow your cheeks around him. Swallow, and his hips jerk up into your mouth, forcing a gag from you, and then he loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to pull your mouth from him.
Harry’s breathing is heavy and his hand is groping your ass so tight it nearly hurts but the pleasure overpowers it and you push back against his hand. His fingers tug at your thong, slipping beneath it as you lap at the tip of his cock, and no sooner have his fingers circled your puckered hole - is he gonna do it? - that he slides them further down, running his digits through your soaked folds.
“So - so fucking wet -” his voice cracks as you take him down your throat again but his hand doesn’t force your head down like last time - instead he brings his other hand to your bum and smacks you hard, harder than every other time, and you moan and he moans, and then two of his fingers slip into your cunt and you moan again.
God, it really is happening, because if it wasn’t, you’re sure you’d have woken yourself up in excitement by now. He really is two fingers deep in your pussy while his cock is all the way down your throat, and he really is crying out as you whine against his cock. His digits curl, brushing against that sweet spot in your velvety walls that has you clenching around him, and you think he’s the first guy you’ve ever done anything with whose found your G-spot without 10 minutes of needed assistance.
Your tongue swirls around his cock as you take your mouth from him, throwing your head back with a cry, and your first still pumps him up and down - his fingers are thrusting in and out of you so fast that the sound of your arousal is nearly the same volume as your moans lingered with his. You’re going to cum so fucking hard, first time you’ve cum from anything other than your fingers or your toys, and you roll your hips against his fingers, grasp on his cock tightening.
“Gonna cum -” your eyes roll back into your head as your thumb flicks over the head of Harry’s length, feeling the way his body jerks at the sensation. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop -”
“Gonna cum for me?” his voice is a hiss through gritted teeth as his fingers speed up even more, pumping inside of you so fast that your head is fucking spinning. “Do it, then. My dirty - fucking - girl, cum for me.”
It’s all you needed and you can’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed at how fast you’re cumming because as soon as the pit in your stomach starts to unravel you can feel his cock twitching in your fist. You can’t think of a single thing to say, vocabulary wiped clean, merely throwing your head back with a noise akin to a scream as you cum on his fingers, and as his hips jerk up, you can feel his release coating your hand.
Harry’s fingers still pump slowly inside of you, prolonging your orgasm until it fades away and in turn you try to do the same to him, hand moving up and down his cock until your breathing steadies from labored pants into something more normal. So you pull your hand off of him, pushing yourself to sit on your knees, cum covering your fingers. And, in an instant, Harry’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and you let him guide your hand up to your mouth.
You can tell he’s merely testing you to see if you’ll do it - but, truthfully, you’d wanted him to cum in your mouth, anyway, if only to prove something to him, or to yourself. So you stick your tongue out, lap a thick stripe through his cum on your hand, dripping down your wrist, and Harry’s lust ridden eyes watch you, lips parted and breathing picking up again.
Your eyes never leave his as you lick up the last of his release on your hands, swallowing every last bit of it, and when you open your mouth to stick your tongue out - proving to him that you took every single goddamn drop - his hand flies to the back of your neck, pulling your head in, and your lips connect with a clash of teeth.
“Like a fucking angel,” Harry groans, pressing his fist to the car seat next to you, and the feeling of him hovering ever so slightly above you makes the buzzing in your head that much more intense. His other hand works at tucking himself back into his pants, zipping them up, and you figure it’s good to pull your dress down to cover your ass, too. “My fuckin’ perfect girl. Jesus Christ.”
You can feel the car slowing to a stop and you’re entirely too ready to go up to Harry’s bedroom and have your goddamn brains fucked out. You already feel like you’re on cloud 9 with one orgasm down, one so intense and brutal, one that you reckon nothing but him could muster up, and that’s just his fingers - you need to know what his cock’ll do to you.
His hand falls back down to your waist where it seems to love to reside and he squeezes your hip, leaning in to nibble at your bottom lip again. You grin lazily, then reach up and push his sunglasses back up his nose where they’d slid down the bridge ever so slightly. “Want you t’fuck me,” you breathe, voice raspy in all of its post-orgasm glory. “Never gotten fucked by anyone before but I need you - swear, I’ve never cum so hard in my life.”
Harry chuckles and turns to glance out the window - then he grabs the door handle and pushes it open. When you’ve both clambered out of the car his arm is around you in a heartbeat, and you need the support, legs feeling shaky, and you take just a moment to glance up at the hotel you’re walking into - nicer than anything you’d ever been in in your life but you feel a bit more used to it by now.
“Tell me,” Harry mutters, leaning his lips close to your ear, as the automatic doors slide open for the pair of you to walk into the hotel lobby. “How many guys have made you cum before, hmm?”
“None,” is your response, turning your head to the side so you can witness the shock that overtakes Harry’s face - you can’t see his eyes but you’re sure they’re wide. “Told myself I didn’t want to fuck a guy who didn’t know where the clit is, and - well, none of them did.”
He chuckles as you two make your way through the lobby towards the elevators - it feels wrong for you to even be here, walking by people who see more money every day than you have in your life, in your dress you’d gotten at the thrift store and your heel still slightly wet. But being with Harry, having his arm around you, makes you feel decidedly less awkward, because you’re sure millions of girls would positively die to do what you’re about to do.
But you get to do it, and if that isn’t the best feeling in the world.
He stops in front of the elevator and presses the button to go up, and the doors open almost immediately - such a gentleman, he is, letting you step in first, and when you’re both in you watch the button for the very top floor light up as he pushes it.
“You’re in for the night of your life,” Harry tells you as the elevator doors slide shut, and you’re entirely expecting him to pin you to the wall but he doesn’t - incredible composure, really, staring straight ahead like he can’t feel the desperation practically dripping from your body. You stare at him, for a moment, at his side profile, jaw set. Like he isn’t as needy as you are, but, as your eyes trail down his body to the bulge already hardening again in his pants, you know that he is.
It seems like an eternity later that the elevator doors slide open again, and you want to race down the hall to his room but you let him lead the way, even if his pace is pathetically slow as he strolls down the hallway. There are only two rooms up this high, on either ends of the hall, and his is to the left of the elevators and it seems so much further than the one to the right.
But you make it there, and Harry’s reaching in his pockets to find his key card - and then he’s swiping it - and then he’s pushing open the door - and as soon as it shuts again, you’re pressed firm against the wall. Your hands fly to the back of his head as his drop to your back, trailing downwards to cup at your ass again (he seems to have a thing for it, but you would never think of complaining.) Your lips press to his as your head falls back against the door, and his hips jerk forward to roll against yours.
You still feel entirely too sensitive and you moan out, pushing your hips forward to meet his as you pull his face closer to yours, using your arms around his neck as leverage to pull him in, but you didn’t need it - you can tell he’s just as desperate as you are, and soon he pulls you off of the door, backing you up to God knows where. You let him lead you until your legs hit something and you fall backwards onto a plush couch, pushing yourself onto your elbows to watch Harry as he drops to his knees before you.
Oh, shit.
Your cheeks heat up as he rests his hands on your knees, spreading your thighs apart. Harry’s hand rises up to his sunglasses, perched, still, on his nose, and he pulls them off, resting them on the coffee table behind him. His eyes meet yours and perhaps he can see the apprehension in your eyes because he leans up, pressing a kiss to your lips. You savor the moment, the sweetness of his tongue entering your mouth, before he lowers himself back down onto his knees. Hands go to the bottom of your dress, rolling it over your hips until it can settle around your waist, exposing your entire bottom half to him, and it feels so much more intimate now that you’re not confined to the backseat of a car.
Harry leans in without giving you a breath to collect yourself, pressing a kiss to your clit through your arousal-soaked lace panties - your hand drops to the couch, squeezing the edge of the cushion between your fingers, and you can already feel your slight embarrassment slipping away as Harry pushes your thigh, forcing it further open.
“Tell me,” he says, deep and hot with how close he is to your cunt, and your hips roll of their own accord at the feeling. “How many guys have done this to you?”
You pause to think, chest rising and falling as he leans in again, licking up your panties, and the sensation makes it a bit difficult to gather yourself enough to respond - eventually, though, you swallow and say, “Not too many. One or two.”
He leans back, pressing a kiss to your thigh. “And they never made you cum.”
“N - no.”
“Well, I will,” is his response, and, as cocky as it may seem, you know he’s right - could probably make you cum through your panties, but his fingers hook in the top of them as soon as the thought pops in your mind. You lift your hips up so he can drag them down your legs, and when they’ve puddled by your feet he helps you take them off. You watch as he crumbles the lacey material in his hands and then stuffs it into the pockets of his fancy pants - for later, he murmurs against your thigh. And then he goes in - hands on your thighs forcing them apart so hard it nearly burns but you find you like the stretch, and his lips wrap around your clit, cheeks hollowing as he sucks on the small nub.
Your head drops back against the couch and you bury your hand in his hair, a loud moan escaping your throat. He wasn’t teasing you and you were beyond grateful - tongue laps up every drop of wetness that gushes in your cunt, kitten licks against your clit, and you can tell he has more experience than you could have imagined. Harry has it mastered, exactly where to place his hands (one on your thigh, the other creeping its way beneath the material of your dress towards your tits) and how to flick his tongue just right to have your hips bucking up against his mouth. And if you thought you’d cum hard in the car you know you’re in for a fucking treat because there’s already pressure building in your stomach and it won’t be long until it fucking erupts.
When you squeeze your eyes shut he stops - pulls away, his mouth and his hands, like he’d never been there in the first place. You open your eyes, chest heaving as you stare down at him. His pupils are lust blown and wide as he stares at you, eyebrows raised, as if you’re meant to know something he never told you - “Eyes open,” he tuts, tone condescending and smug, and you hate how much you love it. “Keep them open. Gonna watch me make you fall apart, alright?” You nod slowly. “Tell me.”
Your voice is caught in your throat as Harry’s lips form a small o, breathing a puff of air onto your beyond sensitive clit, and your fingers in his curls tighten to what has to hurt - but he moans, ever so slightly, as you finally breathe, “Yes. Okay.”
“S’what I thought,” is his response, and then he leans back in, licking up your soaked folds as though no time had passed. Both of his palms press against your thighs, pinching your soft skin, fingers dangerously close to the area he’s working so well. God, his fingers, you swear you’ve never felt anything better than them - you want them again, so bad, hitting your sweet spot so good.
You can’t begin to get the words out to tell him that, though, so you merely reach down, shaky fingers wrapping around his wrist and pushing it closer to your cunt - he pauses, tongue mid-swirl around your clit, and looks up at you with a glint of pure cockiness in his eyes.
“What do you want?” he doesn’t remove his mouth from around your clit as he speaks and the vibrations roll through your body, sending a cry through your throat, and you push his hand further towards your cunt. You know it won’t be enough - haven’t known Harry for quite long at all, but you reckon you know that much about him. “Use your words,” and Harry sounds so fucking commanding that it could make you cum right then and there.
“F - fingers,” you just about sob out, rolling your hips up into his mouth so your clit brushes against his tongue. “Please, Harry - need your fingers, please -”
“Fingers, hmm?” His digits dance across your thighs, straying further away from where you need him, and your eyes just about roll back into your head as he pulls his mouth from your clit and blows on it again. “Where do you want my fingers?”
But you’re too far gone to speak - as he leans in to brush his tongue against your sensitive clit once more, you can feel the pit in your tummy starting to come undone. You drop your head back as Harry licks a thick stripe up to your sensitive nub, and he stops again, pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. “Does my dirty girl want my fingers in her pussy, hmm? S’that where you want my fingers?”
You moan out in affirmation.
Harry pulls his head from your thigh and you push yourself so you’re sitting up more, getting a clear view of everything he’s doing as he spits on your pussy, the saliva dripping down onto your clit, and you fucking cry out. His fingers come up to collect the spittle, rubbing it along your clit before dragging it down your folds so he can push them into your pussy - curling up immediately, knowing exactly the spot that makes you squirm. His other hand comes up and lands a firm smack against your clit, one that has your eyes rolling back into your head.
It only takes a few quick pumps of his curled fingers, in and out of your fluttering cunt, that has you cumming so hard you swear you see stars. Every single sob that breaks free from your throat is so loud that you swear the neighbors in the room at the other end of the hall must be able to hear you - should send them a flower arrangement tomorrow morning, because it’s just his mouth and fingers that has you screaming bloody murder.
“Oh my god -” your hips jerk against his mouth, your hands in his hair dropping back down to the cushions. “Fuck.”
Coming down from your second high of the evening is entirely different from your first - you can’t imagine how you’ll possibly be able to pull anymore from you but, as Harry stands up, your slick covering his mouth and chin, you know you have to.
The whole point is to fuck him. To finally know what everyone’s talking about - to see what the fuss is all about.
Harry leans down, tongue forcing its way down your throat the second your lips part for him, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. Your arousal mixed with the beer he’d had earlier, all traces of the mint washed away, and it tastes so divine. Even more divine as his hands drop to the zipper of his pants, sliding it down, and you slide your fingers in the waistband, helping him tug them down his thighs. He kicks them off as soon as they’re near his feet and then he pulls away, palm pressing against the bulge in his briefs.
“How do you want it?” he asks, words dripping with lust and desperation and you know the exact way he’s feeling and more. You watch him intently as he grips the bottom of his sweater and tugs it over his head - it drops to the rug atop the ground and you let your eyes soak in the sight of him, almost fully nude, briefly ignoring the question.
You hadn’t necessarily expected him to ask. He seems more dominant than that, needing to take control, so you swallow, chest heaving as you try to think. “I don’t - I don’t know.”
He seems to have been expecting that answer, because his hands fall to your waist, pushing you down so you’re lying on the couch. It’s spacious, just enough room for you to adjust yourself comfortably, and Harry lowers himself down on top of you the second you’ve shifted enough.
“How’s this?”
And his caring demeanor is shocking but fitting, because as much as you merely want to get your virginity out of the way, it does feel like a sort of important moment. You want it to be comfortable, and lying on the plushiest couch you’ve ever been on with Harry hovering above you, his arm inches above your head, is about as comfortable as you’re going to get.
You loop your arms around his neck and you can feel his clothed cock, pressed to your cunt. He’s so fucking hard and you’re amazed at the amount of composure he has. “Perfect,” you mumble, leaning up to attach your lips once more (you swear, you can’t get enough of him.)
Harry tugs down his boxers, just enough to free his cock from the flannel confines, and you can feel his tip, running along your folds - he slaps it on your clit and you groan. You drop your head back against the arm of the couch as he sinks his tip into your cunt. Slowly, steadily, he pushes himself the rest of the way in, stuffing you so deliciously full of him that it nearly overtakes the pain.
Nearly.
You’ve used dildos before and you’re thankful for it, now, because you reckon without any sort of experience you’d feel absolutely split in half. Even now, there’s a dull burn sparking between your thighs, and you drop your head back, eyes squeezing shut as you try to adjust to the feeling. No, it didn’t necessarily hurt but it was different and that in itself was enough for you to need a moment to adjust. The way his cock twitched inside of you every so often encouraged you and subsequently turned you on beyond belief, and you don’t need too much time to adjust, after all.
Harry’s breathing is heavy and you can feel it against your face, barely an inch above yours. Poor guy, must be torture, holding out, because you can practically sense how needy he is. You lift your head up to press your lips to his, soft like the brush of a butterfly’s wing, before pulling back. “Move - fuck, please, move, Harry.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, pulling his hips back before thrusting them back in. That is certainly different, verging on the border of pain, but with a few more slow pumps, in and out of your dripping cunt, the pleasure is beginning to take it over.
It takes a moment to find a rhythm that’s enough for both of you. There’s still a slight discomfort but not enough to make you want to wait any longer. You’re finally having sex and you want it to keep going, to do it forever and ever with the absolute God hovering above you.
“So goddamn tight,” Harry grunts as he rocks his hips into yours. “Squeezing me so good. Never fucked anyone so tight in my life, I swear.”
His compliments, whether they were in the heat of the moment or genuine, makes you moan out - makes this entire thing feel so much better.
And fuck, it truly does feel good, especially when he angles his hips just so, every thrust sweeping against that sweet spot deep inside of you that he’s so adept at finding. For the first minute or so you’re fine with the leisurely pace he’s doing but you can tell it’s killing him and it’s starting to kill you, too. You’ve never been too patient, even if you’d waited 22 years for this exact moment.
You’re not a virgin. It feels good, the invisible badge of honor and the cock, going entirely too slow for your liking, deep in your pussy.
“Faster - need you to go faster,” you gasp as Harry’s thumb drops to your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive nub, and they’re immediately a sharp contrast to the way he pulls his hips out and slams them back in. This is what he wanted, what he needed, and it’s what you need, too. No slow pumps. You need him fucking fast and hard and God it feels good, the way he presses down on your clit, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. “Feel so good inside me. God, keep doing that.”
Harry braces a hand on top of the couch, lifting his body slightly off of yours to piston his cock in and out of your cunt, taking him greedily and fully. He’d been with plenty of girls before - more than he could count - but there was something different, being the first guy to fill you up, to fuck you so hard you saw stars. And it was bloody good, watching you beneath him, your mouth falling open with a broken moan, pushing your pelvis up towards his, trying to help him along.
“Such a dirty girl,” Harry rasps, reaching down to grab the top of your dress - should’ve taken it off of you, really - and he pulls it down so aggressively you’re sure the fabric will rip. Your tits spill out of the top, covered only by your bra, and his fingers hook in the cups, pulling them away from your breasts, and in an instant his head is lowered to flick his tongue against your nipple. “Feels so good, hmm? Getting fucked for the very first time? Poor baby - never had a dick before. Tell me how - tell me how it feels.”
Your head is fucking spinning, is how it feels, and you’re not sure you’re going to be able to talk for days to come. You sob out your response, barely audible, but Harry hears it as if you’d spoken loud and clear - “So good, fuck, gonna cum.”
Two of his fingers pluck at your clit like the strings of a guitar, as if you’re merely something to be played with, but it’s enough to send you over the edge again. Your body convulses beneath him, eyes squeezing shut. Your cunt fluttering around him could make him cum but you can tell he wants to hold out - wants to see if you have one more in you, and you’re not sure if you do.
It’s as though Harry can sense the second you’ve milked your orgasm for all you can, because he pulls out of you the second you’re done. Before you can cry out, his hands grab your hips and flip you over with such ease it’s nearly embarrassing. You hardly have the muscle strength to hold yourself up, merely dropping your face into the cushion as his hands position himself at your cunt, pushing in without giving you a second to adjust, and it’s back to the hard, steady pace you’d reached before.
This position is a fucking change and one you love, a new angle letting him reach spots inside of you that you hadn’t even known existed. Your moans are muffled where your mouth is pressed to the cushion but Harry’s are loud and clear, piercing the air near violently as he cries out. You can’t see him but you try with all your might to picture exactly what he’s doing - picturing how his mouth is open and his eyes are shut and he’s lifting his hand to land it back down on your -
As though he can read your thoughts his hand goes up and smacks down on your ass, the noise cracking through the air, and you sob out at the feeling. You love that, you really do, and you’d never have expected yourself to but as he sends another slap to your skin you decide it’s one of your favorite things you’ve done this whole fucking evening.
“Gonna cum,” Harry grunts, hand gripping your thigh to rock your body in time with his. You wiggle your ass, pushing it against him, and for that, you earn another smack. “Where d’you want me to cum? Want it on your back, hmm? Or maybe flip you over again and cum on your pretty tits.”
You can’t verbalize anything, nothing except for broken cries and his name falling off your lips like a mantra, and he knows it.
“Or -” and his voice drops nearly a whole fucking octave, deeper than you’d even thought it could go, and you’re so close to your fourth that your ears are starting to ring - “does my dirty girl want me to cum in her pussy? Fill you up with my cum, fuck you so good until you’re stuffed with it.”
It’s that - his words, fucking filthy and rising above every other noise the two of you make - that ends you. Sends you hurtling into your fourth, now, the couch practically absorbing your moan (or more like a scream) and any ability you’d had to hold yourself up on shaky legs dissipates as you collapse against the couch but Harry’s there, holding you up, forcing your hips back into his you were made for it.
You don’t need to say anything - he knows what you want, can read you like a book by now, and you’ve only known him for tonight. So as his cock gives its final twitch inside your cunt, worn out from cumming four times in such a short amount of time, he makes no move to pull out. Just grips your hips and holds them close to his, and the feeling of hot ribbons of cum shooting into your cunt, filling you up exactly the way you’d wanted, is a sensation you don’t think you’ll ever forget.
When he’s done, pulling out slowly, you collapse fully onto the couch with nothing to hold you up - you’re fucking exhausted but you’ve never felt better in your life. A haze seems to be settling over your mind and body, preventing you from paying any attention to anything that’s not Harry as he stands up above you. And then you feel him, wrapping his arms around you, picking you up like a goddamn baby and you like it a lot.
You’re entirely too close to falling asleep in his arms before he lies you down on a surface softer than the couch - has to be the bed, the rich hotel beds, and as your head lands on the pillow you know you’re correct. God, feels like a pillow, and you’d like to spend the rest of your life right here.
Harry’s like a God in human form, truly, getting a warm washcloth from the restroom to wipe at the cum dripping down your thighs. You two speak in soft, hushed voices, as though making up for the absolutely inhuman noises you’d made before, as he pulls your dress over your head and deposits it on the ground. It is ripped, you can see, but you find you don’t really care. Not like you didn’t get it for less than $10 - and it’s just a reminder of every amazing thing that happened tonight, not that you’d ever need one. You know you’ll remember this night forever.
Finally he lies down beside you, shifting so he’s spooning you, arms firm around your waist and your head to his shoulder. This feels perfect, exactly what you needed to end off your first time perfectly.
“M’not a virgin anymore,” you murmur, adjusting yourself to press your body closer to his. “Feels good. Feel like I’m finally living.”
Harry chuckles at that, pressing a kiss to the side of your face. “Hope your first time was as good as it could be.”
You exhale softly. “It was perfect,” you tell him, voice soft and dripping with emotions you can’t possibly decipher. And it’s the absolute truth - even if your first time wasn’t with a boyfriend you were in love with, like your friends, you don’t think you’d ever have it any other way. “Maybe we could do it again, some time.”
Probably a mistake to ask, but there’s nothing to lose, really. Maybe a piece of your dignity if he says no, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. You’d do this a thousand times over again with him without hesitating.
He takes a beat to respond and you know you fucked up, already squeezing your eyes shut in regret, but then he rasps, “Definitely gotta do it again. Tomorrow night … and the night after that … and the night after that …” and you know you’re in for it.
#harry styles smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#can u tell i rushed the ending#harry styles blurb
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for someone who doesnt really play neopets anymore but still wants in on this juicy drama, could you explain all the hullabaloo thats going on with the cc event?
Since this CC is such a mess I have decided the best way to explain is with a timeline type list. So here we go:
0. People spend all year prepping for charity corner by hoarding sticky snowballs.
(If you don’t know, sticky snowballs are a big deal. They are marked as ultra rare and worth 8 points in CC but you can buy one every half an hour for only 25 neopoints. People hoard thousands and have alarms set to go off every 30 minutes. Even at work or while sleeping)
1. TNT delays charity corner for months because they “want it to be perfect” so people already had high expectations.
2. Charity corner finally starts and people realize they’re only getting 1 single point for sticky snowballs specifically instead of 8. Every other item value is untouched.
3. People become very angry and claim this was done out of spite and TNT hates their userbase.
4. The site is already lagging due to CC. To be petty people start donating thousands and thousands of sticky snowballs to the money tree instead which makes the lag even worse.
5. People finally click on the button to view prizes and realize there are absolutely no perks to buy this year and instead a tiny prize shop of soon to be worthless items. There are also 3 mystery boxes.
6. The mystery boxes? People began opening them.. it turns out there was actually less than a 1% chance of getting a rare item. The items you get could be as low in rarity as r1.
7. There is no mass donation button. You have to manually check off 15 items and you cannot leave the tab as the slow unskippable animation goes on between each donation
8. It was taking hours to donate due to lag and the slow method of doing so
which leads us to...
9. People were spending well over 3 hours to donate enough for one mystery capsule (originally 4500 points)
10. Since sticky snowballs are only worth one point nobody was prepared. They were forced to donate much more expensive items
11. People were wasting hours and extra thousands and thousands of neopoints on new items to donate only to open a mystery capsule and receive one item worth even less than 1000np in return
12. People lose it and begin attacking TNT as well as anyone who defends them
13. Everyone starts cancelling their premium membership and encouraging others to do so too.
14. TNT posts an update on an unofficial discord server well before the actual website.
15. TNT finally posts onsite saying they want to have “open ended dialog” with users then proceed to ignore everyone and punish the people who were criticizing them.
16. As part of the update they decrease the prize shop prices massively and apparently add 1 extra percent to the chance of getting a rare item (no one has yet btw) They also promise to refund points already spent and give everyone an extra 500 points to save their skin.
17. Everyone still spends all night bashing TNT (Especially Tony P.) and throwing every complaint at them at once. Including multiple other issues such as how they handle the LGBT community and some of the questionable content on the site. A lot of people were frozen and permasilenced.
18. The next day no one has been refunded yet but TNT thought releasing a mobile update on youtube was a bigger priority. People immediately harassed the video until they privated it.
19. More people rage quit, cancelled premium and swore to never buy NC or merch again because TNT was handling things so poorly.
20. TNT finally came out with another statement and refunded points
21. The points refunded disappear as soon as you donate again. Some people didn’t get refunded at all. The extra 500 they promised only showed up for some people and also disappeared for others. People with thousands of points now somehow have negative points.
22. TNT closes the general store, making points much harder to get, especially since no one was prepared this year due to the snowball nerf. (This would have been fine other years, but this year it feels like it was out of spite since it was only closed after users acted out)
23. A few hours later charity corner is semi closed. You can no longer donate the “easy” way. Instead you must click on a single item, have a window pop up, click a button, have the page refresh, close window, refresh again. Repeat for every item.
24. Since TNT can’t communicate properly people are unsure if it’s closed due to a whole new glitch or purposeful closed while they fix the already existing issues. Regardless people are still very angry.
and finally......
25. It’s only been 2 and a half days. CC is supposed to last until the 24th
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KK deserves more than 6mil for 1 year and there is no way Habs CAN'T match that. It was so low I thought it was a joke of an offer as petty revenge for the Aho one. Literally had a $20 signing bonus tf. With both teams picking up racists this is good PR frankly to excite fans.
Sorry, I actually disagree pretty solidly with almost all of this, but the reasons are complex and lengthy to explain, so I’m going to put it all under a cut.
Listen, I personally believe based on what we’ve seen from him in the playoffs that KK can eventually develop into a $6.1 million dollar player — it seemed like he did well once the team had been put through Ducharme’s mini-training camp before the playoffs that actually allowed the chance to cement his systems, and put up good numbers generally during the run for someone his age. If they can find a way to get that kind of stuff out of him in the regular season, he could very well be worth $6.1 or more down the road. I really truly think he has it in him with the right coaching and the right work put in.
The problem is, owing possibly to how the Habs have chosen to develop him (remember, he came to the NHL pretty much straight out of the draft) and how very young he actually is, he has not yet actually PROVEN that he can be a player of that value consistently for most of a season at any point. I’m willing to put an asterisk on his struggles this year, because it was a weird fucking season and the Habs had a rough go of it in several points, especially down the stretch, and because we’ve seen the ability is there in the playoffs. But given what we’ve seen while he’s been on his ELC, there has been no guarantee so far that a team that signs him to $6.1 million is going to get $6.1 million in value out of him this coming season.
Like, set aside league-wide valuations for a second, and think about what the Habs, based on their budgeting and philosophy and management choices, are paying some of their top foundational players right now in terms of cap hit. Toffoli makes $4.5 million, so will Hoffman. Anderson makes $5.5 million, as does Drouin. Petry makes $6.2 million. Edmundson makes $3.5 million. Jake Allen, a player so valuable to this team that we risked “Price to Seattle” to keep him, is $2.87 million against the cap. Gally, the lifeblood heart and soul of this team who has given his literal blood sweat and tears to it for almost a decade, only makes $6.5 million against the cap. They apparently weren’t even willing to offer Phillip Danault, defensive cornerstone of the playoff run, the $5.5 million he got from LA. With Weber on the LTIR, if KK signed with the Habs at $6.1 million, he would be the third-highest paid player on the active team when you exclude dudes named Carey Price (who is an outlier and should not be counted). I love the kid. I think he’ll be a bonafide star someday. He has NOT earned that kind of payday yet, based on the established scale of how the Habs reward their players.
Based on my amateur understanding of NHL contracts and the market, a reasonable deal with KK from the Habs would have been somewhere in the area of $2-3 million (so, what they pay for players like Lehkonen (2.3 mil) or Byron (3.3 mil) or just signed Armia to (3.4 mil)), for maybe about 2 years. By the time that runs out, he’d be 23 years old and heading into the prime of his career, and you would probably have a better idea of whether he’s made that big next step or not — if he has, you probably just got two years of great hockey out of him at a STEAL, and can at that point sign him for a nice juicy contract that will pay him to that level and lock him up through his prime years (which is what you would dangle to entice him to take the short deal for now). And if when that short deal is up he hasn’t made that next leap, then you either sign him back at what he is worth, or if that’s an impasse, part ways. He has said he wants to help bring a Cup to Montreal, and do it with the core of young guys they’re assembling (and close friends like the other Finns on the team) — with that, maybe some performance bonuses if he really kills it, and the promise of something bigger down the road once he proves himself (plus the knowledge that he might not get higher offers elsewhere because of how he’s struggled) you could probably get him to sign a deal like that with the Habs.
HOWEVER.
Now that he has signed this offer sheet, he WILL get $6.1 million. Not only for this year, but once the one-year deal expires, any extension offered to him by anyone is required to start at that number. Regardless of how he performs. Unless he has the breakout year of all breakout years, this will really screw him over — because if he DOESN’T perform to the $6.1 million level, a team (be it the Habs or the Canes) is not going to want to sign him to a second deal at that pricetag. He’ll have to go hunting as a free agent, or get traded before he expires and become another team’s problem. (Note: I’m not exactly sure if the offer sheet process allows Montreal to match with a contract at the same value but longer term, but that doesn’t really solve the problem of being locked-in at $6.1 million after next season even if they can). I understand why he signed the offer sheet — his career earnings so far total just over $2 million, and of course both he and his agent would jump at the chance to guarantee adding triple that in just one year, with the promise of more of the same on his next extension. I’m sure he probably thinks he’s worth it, or can prove he is worth it. He probably thinks the Habs believe in him enough to match it, too — I don’t think he wants to leave Montreal, but he probably sees this as simply an earlier achievement of what they would hopefully be paying him anyway someday, in his eyes.
But even if he DOES perform up to that level, if he remains on the Habs that creates another massive problem crunching up against the salary cap: Nick Suzuki and Jake Evans are both RFA’s at the end of the 2021-22 season, and THEY will be looking for their “grown-up” contracts at that time, the SAME time KK will need to be signed again. Nick is probably going to develop into the better player between him and KK (look at where he already is right now), so even if KK performs excellently next year as say 2C, Nick looks like he will be even better at 1C — and if I’m Nick’s agent, I’m definitely starting my contract negotiations with what the Habs would be paying KK as my absolute lowest starting figure, if not higher. Jake probably has more of a 3C/4C upside, but if KK struggles and plays at a 3C/4C performance level and Jake does that well or better, then if I’m Jake Evans’ agent I am definitely putting my starting figure for negations right around $6.1 million, because I can argue “well, you’re paying Kotkaniemi that much, why not my client?”. Romanov is due up for his post-ELC RFA deal after next year too — because he’s more of a defensive defenceman who isn’t expected to score much, he likely can’t command the kind of figures that an offensively productive centre does, but you still need to have enough cap space to actually sign the guy for what he’s worth; Romanov is eligible for arbitration in that negotiation, so lowballing him too hard could get complicated and contentious fast. And all of this isn’t even including factors like depth players on one-year deals who will need to be replaced or brought back after this year, etc.
Accepting/matching this contract creates a dozen new problems the Habs didn’t have before at all. It carries massive risk and could cause problems for the cap and for roster construction even if KK takes off like a rocket and lives up to the figure on the sheet. I didn’t even touch on the absolute hell the fanbase and media will put him through if he is in Montreal on that kind of payday compared to the rest of the team and fails to live up to it. Alex Galchenyuk only made $4.5 million while he was here and struggling. Look how that turned out for him. You’ve seen how people get when Carey has a rough patch, how the $10.5 million gets brought up and thrown around, and that’s with Carey goddamn Price. I have been around this fanbase long enough to see what happens when people don’t feel you’ve lived up to your pricetag. It gets nasty. Think whatever you’ve seen hurled at Mitch Marner this year, then multiplied by a factor of “fanbase whose expectations have been disproportionately raised probably beyond what’s realistic by the miracle playoff run” and “the Montreal hockey media eats people alive even in good years”. He has been lucky so far in his struggles because he’s still young enough to be cheap. And I’ve still seen plenty of people already writing him off anyway.
Make no mistake: I love KK, I love what he brings to the team, I love how he fits in with the rest of the young core and their dynamics, and I really believe he has the potential to break out into a formidable 2C lowkey-superstar. And I was really, really looking forward to hopefully watching that growth and achievement happen with the Habs, as part of the super exciting future that has been building here. I will be heartbroken if this leads to him leaving, genuinely. My biggest worry with having this bright and shiny new core was always that I would have to watch it get torn apart and turn sad just like the last one.
But now that this contract, right now, at this point in his career is going to be the price of keeping him? I don’t know if matching it will be what’s best for the team as a whole, or even what is best for KK. I don’t know if Carolina actually gives a shit about him as a player enough to use and develop him right if they keep him, or what their end goal here even is other than definitely very literally getting petty revenge for the Aho thing, just look at their Twitter (I think the idea of this as DeAngelo counter-PR has become a bit overblown as an explanation, because surely they MUST know they could end up holding the tab for this and all the risk of it in the end, and that this will die down eventually, so either they’re incredibly stupid or there’s some other benefit here).
And regardless of which way everything goes, I can’t think of anyone I trust less to make the best choice for everyone involved than Marc fucking Bergevin.
#long post#sorry not trying to be mean just literally don’t agree with this at all#habs#Jesperi kotkaniemi#wnylanderthals#asks#montreal canadiens
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"Doppelganger" *Part 24*
Alright I REFUSE to make this story any longer, so the next chapter IS the finale, I swear to you.
This is just one more little loose end I wanted to throw in, maybe it'll come back around the epilogue. Who knows?! I know.
I would have started the "Wedding Day" here but I really wanted it to be it's own chapter, so this is kinda short and I'm not gonna lie if I have to I will make the last chapter 20 pages long to fit the ending in. That being said I have some stuff to do tomorrow night and work the next night so I may or may not split up writing the last chapter between those and post it late Sunday or Monday.
It's worth it I promise! I'll make it worth it.
Part 23
Finale!!
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The next day Rafael asked you to come by his office once again, making you nervous. Especially when you showed up to the Mayor and a Lawyer to greet you along with Rafael.
“Pinguino,” Rafael smiled as he met you at the door with his arms open wide pulling you into a kiss.
“....More interviews?” You whispered as you eyed the two other men.
“Actually, they haven’t told me what they’re doing here yet,” Rafael whispered back as you both walked over to the men sitting at Rafael’s desk. Rafael pulled another chair around to his side so you could sit next to him. He had a feeling this would take a while.
“So...gentlemen,” Rafael cleared his throat. “What’s this about?”
“Well Barba it’s about your wedding,” The mayor replied.
“...Why am I not surprised..?” He shook his head with a laugh.
“Actually Mr. Barba I think you’ll find this visit different from others the mayor here has sprung on you thus far,” His lawyer answered.
“...And that would be because…?” Rafael raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Because Mr. Fenkell here says that I owe you financial compensation for all you’ve been doing for me,” The mayor replied rather gruffly as he crossed his arms like a petulant child being called into the principal’s office.
“...Excuse me?” Rafael looked at both of them with confusion.
“Well Mr. Barba, I’m surprised you haven’t either realized or brought up the fact that the situation that you’re in is called ‘quid pro quo’,” The lawyer explained.
“Yes I know what ‘quid pro quo’ is counselor, we went to the same law school,” Rafael snarked. “And I graduated with higher honors than you,”
“Barba I’m here trying to help you out, I don’t know why you’re lashing out at me,” The lawyer now crossed his arms.
“Baby,” You put a hand on his. “Just let the man talk,”
“Right,” He nodded reluctantly. “Go on,”
“Like I was saying,” Mr. Fenkell pulled out papers from his briefcase. “I assume you and your fiancée here have been going along with the Mayor’s requests for fear of losing your job, correct?”
“I mean, not mine per say,” Rafael shrugged. “THAT would be illegal,”
“Right,” Mr. Fenkell nodded. “But everything he’s done thus far involving you and your fiancé's likeness entitles you to royalties, and dues for services,”
“Well, that is true,” Rafael nodded. “I’ve been so preoccupied with everything else I haven’t even stopped to think--”
“Which is exactly why I’m here,” Mr. Fenkell cut him off. “I figured a competent lawyer like yourself would realize when all the dust settles, that you were indeed entitled to a sum of money, and would therefore sue the Mayor after the fact,”
“Wow, that’s a lot of assuming on your part sir,” You laughed softly. “You really think Rafael is that shit of a--”
“I mean he is right,” Rafael finished for you.
“...Or I’m just an idiot,” You muttered.
“No, baby you’re not an idiot,” Rafael took your hand. “But we are entitled--YOU are entitled for some kind of compensation for all that you’ve done for the mayor--for me,”
“I thought my compensation was getting to marry you,” You smiled sweetly.
“Aww,” Mr. Fenkell remarked, causing an eye roll from the mayor.
“Right so--” Mr. Fenkell began laying papers filled with legal jargon on the desk in front of you and Rafael.
“This contract states that once we settle on a number, you won’t try and collect more from the mayor with some random claim like ‘emotional distress’ during your wedding, or events thereafter due to all of this,”
“...Trauma?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “You think that after everything I went through, I would classify this as trauma?”
“I mean theoretically you could, Ms. Y/L/N,” He nodded. “The emotional stress of reliving your trauma and trying to plan a wedding while on display for the whole city must be taking a toll on you right now, is it not?”
“...Well it wasn’t until you said it like that,” You muttered.
“Dammit Maxwell I told you, they were perfectly fine with--” The mayor began to pitch a fit.
“Oh no no no,” Rafael wagged a finger at the mayor. “Just because she’s ignorant of the--”
“Excuse you?” You crossed your arms at Rafael’s condescending tone.
“I mean, just because she doesn’t realize or recognize the emotional stress she’s under doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have it, and doesn’t deserve compensation” He looked to you apologetically while he re-worded the statement. You gave him an approving nod.
“Right well this is what this is for--”
“And what kind of price tag have you put on my fiance's feelings, counselor?”
“Well if you’ll peruse the contract, counselor…” Mr. Fenkell pointed to the bottom of the paper.
“This contract blah blah blah, no further seeking monetary blah blah blah…” Rafael spoke out loud as he scanned the document. Then suddenly, his eyes widened and he stopped reading, looking at you then Mr. Fenkell then the Mayor.
“...A million dollars?” He raised his eyebrow, skeptical.
“...What?” You gasped.
“....Each,” He added with a smile as he handed you the paper. You didn’t know a lot of the words, but in plain black and white you read: “...In the form of one million dollars per plaintiff,”
“I’m sorry, WHAT?” You said louder than you intended, but that was insane.
“That’s insane,” You said out loud. “I don’t need that kind--”
“Baby,” Rafael stopped you and pulled you slightly away from the mayor and his lawyer. “I know that you get antsy when good things happen to you, but you deserve this,”
“For what?!” You hissed. “For taking a few photos? For letting a camera crew in a church? Rafael I just--”
“...But think of everything before that, carino,”
“What, Nevada? That--” You shook your head.
“Wasn’t your fault,” Rafael finished.
“...Well it wasn’t the mayor’s fault either, Raffi,” You nodded at the mayor.
“But he is exploiting you for it,” Rafael pointed out.
“....True,” You nodded.
“Excuse you two, but I--” The mayor began to rant again.
“And if I may add,” Mr. Fenkell jumped in. “While Mr. Barba was worried about his job, you also had reason to be worried about it as well. Being as he is your only means of support,”
“Right now,” You quickly added.
“....Right,” Mr. Fenkell gave you a side eye. “Currently,”
Clearly this douchebag thought what everyone else must be thinking. That you were just marrying Rafael for his money. So that you could be a ‘kept’ woman. Well, he was about to learn that was the furthest thing from the truth.
“Alright then,” You finally said. “Then I want my share to go to Rafael, if we’re going to be married it’s his anyway,”
“No no no no, Nuh-uh,” Rafael shook his head. “Your share is your share,”
“...But I don’t want you to think that I’ve got some... ‘escape money’,” You gave him a sad look.
“Escape money?” He laughed. “Baby I told you, I think the last thing I should be worried about is you leaving me,”
“....Also true,” You nodded with a soft smile. You sure as hell had not gotten this far working this hard to ‘get’ Rafael to just give him up. Ever.
“Okay then, do I tell you where I want the money to go or do I do it myself?” You asked Mr. Fenkell.
“...You already have plans for it?” Mr. Fenkell asked you. “...Didn’t you just say you didn’t want it? Why would you--”
“Just answer the question,” You said flatly.
“I mean Mr. Barba could just draw up the contracts and paperwork for you to transfer your funds wherever you--”
“But Mr. Barba is my husband, not my lawyer,” You cut him off. “...And I’d like to keep that way,” You looked over at who Rafael looked at you in confusion.
"Not Mixing business and pleasure," You smirked.
“Right,” Mr. Fenkell nodded as pulled out a legal pad and a pen. “Well I can make a list of where you want to divert the funds and we’ll go from there,”
“Okay,” You took a deep breath. “Well, first of all-- obviously,” You took Rafael’s hand. “I want to pay off the rest of my time at Julliard,”
“That’s unnecessary, carino--”
“Yeah I know you say that Rafael, but I was going there before I met you and it’s not your respon--”
“It’s already paid for, in full,” He spoke over you.
“...What?” You asked him with a breathy voice. When did he have time to do that?! WHY-wait.
“But I’m going to need an extra semester since I’m taking the rest of this one off,” You said softly as you glanced at the other two in shame. You still felt guilty about Rafael having to basically babysit you for the past few weeks.
“Yeah I figured that.” He nodded with a smile, stroking your cheek. “It’s all taken care of, carino,”
“...Alright fine then I want to pay it back,” You insisted.
“No,” He shook his head. “Absolutely not,”
“Rafael come on--”
“NO,” He repeated sternly. “I won’t take it,”
“....Alright, fine,” You rolled your eyes. “Then I want a chunk to go to abuela--”
“No I have them covered too,” He shook his head. “And they are definitely NOT your responsibility. And before you say next that you want it to go to Maria, she will never accept it. We're too proud of a people," He smiled teasingly.
“...Fine,” You sighed in frustration. “THEN I want a chunk of it to go to opening a drama center,” You crossed your arms and looked at Rafael. “Any objections to that, counselor?”
“...A drama center?” He looked at you curiously.
“Look,” You took both of his hands. “I know you couldn’t-- your mom didn’t want you---” You took another breath, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “...You had to give up your dream to take care of your family,”
“Carino…” He took your hand.
“And my parents, they spent all the money we had on dance lessons, acting lessons, all of it. On ME. Just so that I could live my dream,” You continued. “Kids should be able to dream their dreams without their parents having to worry about money to do so,”
“But...your dream, Y/N. You want to be on Broadway. How are you gonna fit--” He started to speak but you were nowhere near done with your speech.
“Baby my dream was selfish,” You shook your head. “I wanted to be famous for the wrong reasons. To be adored by the world, to be loved by everyone. But, now I know the only person’s love I care about, is yours,” You stroked his face.
���If I open this place then I can still use my talents as a teacher, helping kids like us. I told your mom that when I met you, you made me a better person, that you made me want to be better. I want that to be true. I need that to be true,” You finally finished with a small smile, tears lined Rafael’s eyes.
“You are the best person I know, mi amor,” He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think the center is a great idea,”
“Good,” You smiled. “And….I want to name it the Y/L/N-Barba Drama Center,”
“....Well obviously after you,” He nodded.
“No,” You shook your head. “After you. And my parents. Because if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have found you, and you gave me everything I’ve ever wanted,”
“I love you,” He beamed at you as he kissed you deeply.
“...And on that note,” You turned back to Mr. Fenkell who looked wildly uncomfortable by your little cutesy side conversation.
“I want the rest to be split between a savings account for me, and the other half into a trust,”
“A trust?” Mr. Fenkell asked as he wrote down your wishes.
“A trust for our children,” You smiled at Rafael. “My parents spent so much money so that I could live my dream. I think it’s only fair I do the same for them; especially when I have the means to do it,”
“See those redneck shithead Jersians have no idea what they’re talking about,” He pressed his forehead against yours. “You are not selfish, not at all,”
“Thanks to you,” You pressed your own forehead against his like a love head butt.
“....Okay, so is there anywhere else you’d like it to go, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Fenkell said rather loudly, trying once again to remind you there were other people in the room. People who were not amused with your disgustingly cute conversations.
“Um, no I think that’s good,” You nodded.
“Split up mine the same way, Max,” Rafael added.
“Rafael you don’t need to--” You started to protest but he put a finger to your mouth.
“I have money,” He assured you. “I have enough money to take care of us for the rest of our lives. This money should go somewhere that represents the both of us, and our love,”
“Can we please for the love of God just end this, please?” The mayor groaned. “If I have to sit here and watch you word vomit your love all over this office, I might actually vomit,”
“Right,” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Well gentlemen you know where to find us,” He grabbed the pen and signed one of the contracts then handed it to you and you did the same.
“Now if you’ll excuse us we’re going to ‘love vomit’ all over each other now,” He smirked as he handed back the papers. Mr. Fenkell and The mayor nodded as they walked out.
“Well, what do you want to do now?” Rafael wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“As tempting as that sounds, I have another request mi amor,” You played with the hair on the back of his knuckles with a soft voice.
“Anything for you pinguino,”
“Well I mean, you have some pull over there,” You nodded outside towards the courthouse that was attached to the DA's office by a hallway.
“...Why, do you need parking tickets dismissed or something? Did I agree to marry a felon?” He teased you.
“No,” You giggled. “But I would like to skip the ‘name changing’ line,” You pulled him closer as his smile grew bigger.
“I don’t think that’s what they call it, but I appreciate the sentiment,” He kissed you as you both walked towards the door of his office and out into the lobby.
“We’ll be back, Tommy,” He told his assistant.
“Right sir,” He nodded.
“This way to the ‘name changing line’, pinguino,” He smirked as you walked down the hall towards the courthouse.
------
--An Hour Later--
You and Rafael walked out of the courthouse and down the steps hand in hand as you pulled the two papers from his hands. One was a marriage license, and one was a form that was filled with boring legal jargon but at the bottom was printed: “Legal Name: Mrs. Y/F/N Barba,” with your new signature on the dotted line.
“Mrs. Rafael Barba,” You smiled as you looked at the paper.
“Oh no no no,” Rafael shook his head with a laugh. “That sounds like you’re my property, pinguino,”
“True,” You nodded with a teasing smile.
“...So why the sudden urgency to change your name, carino?” He asked as you walked down the street hand in hand. “Not that I’m complaining. I'd be lying if I said just looking at your name with my last name makes me giddy,”
“Giddy?” You gave him a look.
“Yeah, I said it. Giddy,” He laughed.
“...I don’t know, it was something that my therapist said,” You shrugged.
“...And what did she say?” He asked you skeptically.
“She said,” You sighed and pulled Rafael out of the flow of traffic of people.
“She said that women who don’t take their husband's last names had one foot out the door of the marriage before even going in,” You looked up at him with soft eyes. “And I don’t want you to think that I am any less than 100% sure of my love for you, and the rest of our lives together,”
“Well, first of all I’d like to see her marriage to divorce ratios based on that assumption,” He rolled his eyes. “And second-- I appreciate the sentiment baby, I really do. Just as long as you did it for you, and not because your therapist guilted you into it,”
“She didn’t,” You assured him. “I did this for me. For us,”
“Well then Mrs. Barba,” He took your hand once again with a huge smile. “Let’s grab some dinner, shall we?” He asked in a melodramatic, fancy tone.
“We shall, Mr. Barba,” You answered in the same tone, making both of you giggle like school kids.
Now all that was left to do was actually get married!
#rafael barba#rafael barba imagine#rafael barba fanficton#raul esparza#doppelganger#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfiction#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader
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