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m1d-45 · 1 year

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remorse

-> warnings: spoilers for kazuha story quest as well as general kazuha lore, kazuha’s friend is named tomo for convenience, mention of blood near the end, kazuha attacks you but it’s a brief memory, standard issue imposter sagau things

-> lowercase intended!

tomo was an avid believer in the creator.

most people are to an extent, kazuha included, but it’s more of a soft reverence for him rather than the burning devotion for tomo, whose belief is that the creator didn’t make inazuma for it to be hidden! they didn’t make the shogun for her to do this to her nation!

that combined with his other beliefs sent him to face her. ever a man of faith, he held firm that he was doing the right thing. even as his body fell to the floor and his vision flew into the awaiting grasp of his friend, his heart stood strong.

kazuha carries that faith with his memory, and does his best to honor it just as well. if he finds a pretty flower he’ll drop it at a shrine, always murmuring his friend’s name as he does so. he doesn’t hold you to as high a bar as other do, as high as tomo did, but it’s hard not to be religious in teyvat, where the gods literally walk the earth. he settles for a quiet reverence, and perhaps a prayer that his friend may find peace at your side when the storm winds howl and lightning strikes close.

and then beidou.

who thanks you daily for calm seas, for large hauls, thanks for the life created for her anew.

and he thinks. and thinks a bit more, and decides that well, his life has been remade too, hasn’t it? and like beidou says, he’s a poet, he’s been gifted with a form of creation, hasn’t he? so he starts leaving more than a few folded poems at the on-ship shrine—it’s kept in the back, a little tucked away both for safety and in case the crew has problems with religion or just doesn’t follow, but that just makes it all the easier to slip things onto it.

and he thinks that maybe tomo had the right idea.

so when he hears of an impersonator, somebody who utilizes both magic and their mind to take the place of the highest of gods…. he’s more than upset.

how dare you? how dare you try to take the place of his god- if the entire of teyvat’s god? how dare you try and swindle your way to the top, try to trick and scheme and deceive the innocent beleivers into serving you instead of the creator you fail to even imitate? he hasn’t even met you and he knows that you’re a stale copy, a fragile semblance even with your spells and alchemy, a careful house of cards that he longs to topple.

the alcor is docked in liyue, waiting for a shipment. he’s sitting on an empty crate while beidou leans on it, groaning about the merchant.

”come on! we’re gonna be late, and he had a week to prepare! who is this guy, even, thinking he can do shit like that?”

he’s about to speak—likely to admonish her for swearing when there’s children playing along the docks—when he spots you approaching. you have messy, shaggy hair and a face covered by a blue mask, dressed oddly for somebody in liyue. he doesn’t spot either vision nor weapon on you, but it’s hard to tell. at the very least, you don’t look hostile.

he decides not to get beidous attention, letting you do so as you walk up to her.

“pardon me?”

your voice is rough and coarse, like ore dragged into the light of the sun after growing underground for millennia.

she looks you up and down, deciding that you aren’t the merchant she needs. “what can i do for ya?”

“i w-as told you could provide passage to inazuma?”

she tilts her head. “huh? but the saokoku decree was lifted recently, there should be proper passenger boats leaving every hour.”

you swallow, and kazuha listens to the wind around you.

it’s afraid. apprehensive. tense, like you expect them to turn you down.

which he’s pretty sure beidou’s about to if you can’t save this.

“theyre full, and i heard you were leaving immediately. and besides, everybody knows the alcor’s one of the fastest boats on the waves.”

ah. you’re smart.

beidou laughs. “you’re right about that, kid, we certainly can get you there the fastest! but it ain’t gonna be cheap…”

you brightened, standing a little straighter. the wind lifted into a gentle breeze. “i have mora! na-ame your price.”

while they sorted that out, kazuha inspected your odd character. your voice was rough, strained over certain syllables, and occasionally you’d scratch at the side of your neck. he’d initially assumed that the mask was for anonymity, like shinobu from the arataki clan, but now he thinks it’s more for an illness.

one that could spread throughout the crew.

“well, you’ve got yourself a deal! any problems?” she turned back to kazuha for his verdict, and he checked over you once more.

dirt on your boots, but hands in the pockets of your jacket. you were more relaxed now, the air speaking of possibility.

“you sound sick,” he says simply, and your eyes widen.

“a-ah, i- it’s just disuse. i d-ont really talk often.” the mask lifted in a weak smile, your hand coming up again. the skin there was quickly turning red.

“then if there’s nothing else, welcome aboard, uh- whats your name, again?”

you give a name and dip your head in thanks. “thank you for your k-indness.”

kazuha took up the task of showing you around the boat, for no reason he could explain. you were nice to talk to, funny, and your voice was smooth after youd taken some of the medicine you carried.

you were easy to be around. it was like reuniting with a friend he hadn’t seen in years, an indescribable sense of comfort filling him at your side. you felt like home, like campfire chats around crackling wood, or the soft sound of waves on a shore. a clear sky, a cool breeze over a sun-warmed rock.

he was almost- no, he was sad to see you off, waving goodbye as you rushed onto the docks of ritou.

you would go far. whatever you wanted to do, kazuha was sure you would succeed, and extended you his blessings in your endeavors.

now imagine his reaction when, after settling the deal, beidou brings him a flyer. her jaw is set and her shoulders are tight, and he’s quick to see what irritated her.

it’s you.

the flyer has your posture more intimidating, a long staff in hand, eyes cold and calculated instead of the warm glow he remembered.

but it’s you. undoubtedly. even your picture tries to pull a smile from him- and then he sees the charges below.

and he wants to shiver despite the comfortable air.

how?

how can this be?

how can such a kind soul be so deceptive?

but isn’t that the thing? it says you utilize spellwork- that has to be it, right?

(but how can the wind lie?)

he leaps from the side of the alcor, barely able to tell beidou not to wait for him before he’s gone.

he’s in a confused daze for the next few weeks, constantly on your trail- but the wind guides him in loops.

you’re everywhere.

your aura is permanently in the air, giving him a shot of nothing short of pure bliss before he gets his wits about him.

he’s almost afraid, because the wind doesn’t lie- but it has to be, because you can’t enchant the air- but that’s the only way-

his mind is confused, constantly in a state of conflict, his instincts saying you’re a friend while rational thinking says youre foe. his heart calls for your safety whilst the careful shell around it reminds him of your crimes. of the way you’ve tarnished his god’s name, of the way you’ve disrespected captain beidou and her crew, of the way you took advantage of kindness to serve yourself.

of the way you took advantage of people like tomo.

he’s on a beach, preparing up some fish for dinner in a cave, when the wind suddenly smells sweeter.

it’s the scent he’s been following.

he stands and rushes onto the shore, unsure why he’s not reaching for his blade but not thinking too much about it, looking around. sand slides beneath his feet as he races towards a familiar figure: you.

you—his mind supplies him with the name you gave, but is it even yours? or was it just another layer to the lie?—jump as he approaches, but quickly relax. you slip down the mask to sip at the medicine the same shade as the sky, smiling at him.

“kazuha.”

his skin prickles, suddenly feeling hot just at the way you say his name. it’s so kind, so loving, almost, and any response flies from his mind. it’s so hard to be mad when your voice sounds like silk and the light…

the sun shines on your skin, nearly glowing, outlining every curve and angle of you and with a gentle hand. if you catch the light just right he can catch lines of something yellowed across your skin. it’s odd, he didn’t remember that on the… boat…

the flyer.

right.

you were a criminal.

a criminal of the worst kind.

a fraud, somebody who tried to take advantage of the people, using spells to try and garner attention and wealth from people-

people like tomo.

he grit his teeth and ignored the stab of pain in his chest as he drew his sword.

instantly, every ounce of happiness drains from your figure, replaced by an ice-cold tension that makes him want to shiver despite the warm breeze. “ka..zu…?”

the nickname falling from your lips begs him to reconsider, to stop.

its his last chance to.

“how dare you disgrace the kaedehara name?”

your eyes turn glossy and you back away, shrinking in on yourself. a choked-off sound crosses the short distance between them, and kazuha forced himself to ignore it.

you are not an innocent. the beautiful sunlight across your skin did not mean that you yourself were as good as it, the lovely scenery around you no indication of whatever rot lied in your soul; something that had to be there, for you to try and imitate the creator.

and it was rot. you were rotten, bitter, deceitful, using the magic you’d have to have bought—for no being could grant somebody like you that power—to try and warp mildew into meadows. he had to remember that.

he was being charmed.

and then he’s in liyue.

he’s going to a meeting with ningguang with beidou, where the news is broken.

the normally ever-steady tianquan looks shaken up, asking beidou first for her promise to utilize her crew and connections to spread what she’s about to say as far across liyue as she can.

and then she says it.

and kazuha leaves.

he’s in the crows nest of the alcor—it hasn’t left the harbor in months due to the awful storms over teyvat and the cruel waves—and curled into a ball, hands tangled into his white hair, undoing his ponytail in the process.

he tried to kill you.

he’d had you pinned to the beach- you didn’t even fight back. you’d just laid there, tears beading in your eyes, just staring up at him even as his sword was resting in the hollow of your throat.

he’d-

he’d nearly drawn blood.

he’d almost killed the very god he worshipped.

the shining light in his best friend’s life, the new beginning he’d found alongside his new home with the crux, the-

the flush across his skin whenever you were close, that sense of calm and serenity- of course. it all made sense, now that he put aside his blade.

you were a god.

his god.

and he’d tried to kill you.

he tries to soothe himself—you’re okay, you didn’t hurt them too bad, did you? imagine how the killer feels—but it’s in vain. the very wind turns against him, biting and cold despite the warm sun, and he’s shivering.

shaking, about to cry, because you… you were only seeking a new opportunity. you wanted another chance. you just wanted to live- ningguang had said your memory was likely damaged if even there at all, you didn’t even know you were a god at all. you didn’t even understand the nature of your sins, you didn’t understand the world you were in in any form, you didn’t understand why you were being chased, persecuted, hunted.

and kazuha, alongside the entire world, had decided that was a crime punishable by death.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #kaedehara kazuha #sagau kazuha #spoilers under the tags’ ‘see all’ button be warned #hi hello welcome to spoiler territory: did you know you can find tomo’s grave ingame #tp to the artifact domain by narukami shrine and head east to the little gorge #head south down the gorge #who cares if nobody reads these bc they’re my tags and i get to infodump all i wanna #within the archive #specifically the ‘living beings -> wildlife’#you can find cats. nearly all are named ‘[descriptor] cat’ with the exception of one: the pure white cat #the pure white cat entry in the archive is simple named ‘sapphire’.#= their cat is now named sapphire in my mind #i hope you have learned something today even if it’s just ‘midas collects and reads archive entries unironically’

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these-godforsaken-halls · 2 months

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There is Grian's hand, held tight in his own. There are wings raised, protective, in front of him, and soft colorful feathers that brush against his face with every gust of wind. Grian had been so quiet — he’d looked so frighteningly lost, and Scar’d had half a mind to sit him down for a proper heart-to-heart, but he chose boat havoc instead, and boat havoc worked like a charm until it didn’t anymore — None of that matters right now. “This is bad,” is all Grian says after that, and his wings raise a little higher, heels sliding back a little further. Scar feels — he feels tucked away, almost, like diamond ores in hidden chests, and he doesn't really know what to do with that, or what’s about to happen, so he just squeezes Grian's hand.

chapter 2 is here and it is early and things are PICKING UP NOW. mmm protective scarian . so much protective scarian

likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated, and i hope yall like the chapter!!

#next week we get to see more from the other tagged hermits and relationships #there was just so much to fit into this chapter!! it was a whirlwind to write and edit #hermitcraft #hermitcraft smp #grian #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #scarian #desert duo #hermitblr #hermitshipping #hermitcraft fanfic

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adore-laur · 6 months

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CLOUD NINE

— a swoonworthy sequel to pink velvet 💍

——

Lake Como is an area with timeless appeal that seizes the eyes of every wanderer roaming the enticing paradise of solitude. Rolling vineyards weave throughout the countryside, with snow-capped mountains rising above the clouds. Romanesque cathedrals and theaters overlook the grand lake beautifully shaped by glacial movements. Opulent gardens of cascading wisteria and olive groves blossom across the region, decorating the premises of historical villas and estates.

It's bliss for the second time.

It also happens to be one of the most desired places in Italy for wedding venues, which is why you're currently driving through the captivating village of Bellagio with Harry the evening before the big day. A year has passed since you were in Salerno together for your third anniversary. A year since he proposed on the secluded beach he rented out for you, bent down on one knee with shaky hands holding a pink velvet ring box that encapsulated evermore.

Now you're back and ready to marry the man who has one hand on the steering wheel of the vintage car and the other resting on your thigh.

Bellagio, which juts into Lake Como, greets you with cobblestone streets hugged by dainty shops and restaurants. Stucco and terracotta houses painted with pastel colors sit with their wooden shutters open, plants on their balconies and ivy climbing their walls. Everything is perfectly placed and flourishing under the European sky.

A boat launch is where both of you are headed since the sun will be setting soon, and being on the lake is where tourists say it is the most idyllic place to admire. You're going to rent a private speed boat for two hours to wind down and spend time together on the alpine waters before being the center of attention tomorrow.

The narrow backroads lead to the pier, where many boats are docked. Harry has brought a comically large backpack filled with various snacks, books, and other items to keep busy while on the lake. He's currently humming along to a solemn Italian waltz statically playing through the car's antique radio speakers. His hair whips in the wind, and golden hour light dances across his face.

"I know you're looking at me," he says, gently squeezing your thigh.

You snap out of your trance and lean over the console to pertly kiss his dimple. "You're just really... bello? Is that how you say pretty?"

His cheeks flush an endearing shade of pink. "Bello, yeah," he murmurs with a shy smile. "Thank you, baby."

After another few peaceful minutes of driving, Harry pulls into a parking lot by the docks. The piers bob in the shallow water. The lake is even more stunning up close, with delicate ripples and a mountainous backdrop that resembles a contemporary impressionist painting.

As you gaze upon the elegant villas sitting along the coastal cliffs, the passenger door swings open, a gentlemen-like gesture Harry always does no matter the countless times you've told him you're entirely capable. You sling your tote bag over your shoulder and pick up Harry's backpack, which is crammed in the space behind the seats. You hand it to him and then interlock your fingers with his before walking to the launch. Luxurious boats rock in the water; their exteriors are glossy and classic, and their interiors are more modern with white leather seats.

"Ciao, siamo qui per il noleggio di due ore," Harry greets the group of men standing on the pier with cigars poking from their lips.

They all smile and wave the both of you over. Harry initiates a foreign conversation with them that you can't understand, save for a few fleeting words. Eventually, one of them claps their hands together and leads you to a speed boat. As the other men remove the ropes that secure it, Harry reaches his hand out to help you step on. He then guides you to the driver's seat, sitting down and settling you on his lap as he sticks the key into the ignition.

"Ready, cipollino?" he asks, recalling the nickname he gave you last year while tipsy under a streetlight. His hand rests on the curve of your back as the engine rumbles to life.

"Yeah," you reply with an eager nod. "And stop calling me that!"

"What should I call you, then?"

"Your wife."

"Not yet, darling." He kisses your neck and then looks behind him, giving the men a thumbs-up.

They return his gesture, and he doesn't waste any more time as he pushes the throttle forward, making the boat lurch. With your legs draped over his, the village becomes farther away. Sailboats and ferries float on the water, and Italian flags are proudly attached to them.

The speed creates swells of water that refreshingly spray your skin as you lean your cheek against the top of Harry's head. He steers with one hand as the other reaches down to unzip his backpack. He sifts through the belongings, eventually taking out a container of mixed cheese cubes he bought a couple of days ago when he went shopping at a local food market.

"Close your eyes and guess," he says over the gusty breeze, hiding the container behind his back.

You close them and open your mouth so he can feed you. You hear him snap the container's top off and then feel a cheese cube on your tongue. You chew it, humming thoughtfully while you figure out the distinct flavor.

"Provolone. That's too easy," you say after swallowing. "Give me another one."

A second piece is given; this time, it's a uniquely rich flavor you've never tasted. You decide to just guess fancy names you've heard in passing. "Um, mascarpone? No, wait. Gorgonzola?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I have no bloody clue what it is." You laugh and open your eyes, but Harry quickly covers them with his large hand. "One more," he murmurs cutely.

Parting your lips again, you wait for another piece of unknown cheese. However, a pair of soft lips capture your mouth instead. You feel Harry smirk against it, causing you to tilt your head with a bright smile.

"Was that too cheesy?" he asks, playfully tickling your ribs before cutting the engine so the boat can drift. "Eh? Get it?"

You drape your arms over his broad shoulders. "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

He scoffs under his breath. "What do you mean? I come up with these killer jokes on the spot."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, calling his bluff. "Tell me another one."

Harry pouts his lips and thinks. "Let's see. Give me a second; I have loads of good ones." You giggle into his neck as he struggles. "'Kay, I've got it. Why does water never laugh at jokes?"

"I don't know. Why?"

He cradles your head and whispers in your ear, "It isn't a fan of dry humor."

You lean back and narrow your eyes at him. "That was terrible."

He pretends to throw you overboard, leaving you squealing and holding on tight to his shirt. "Sii gentile."

The following two hours are spent cruising around the lake, pointing out extravagant architecture, and reading the several translated Italian romance novels you bought from an independent bookstore. The mountains are hazy due to the clouds drifting past the jagged crests. The faraway sounds of ferry horns and coos from the wading birds provide a serene atmosphere. You don't plan to remove yourself from Harry's lap anytime soon since his calm breathing and affectionate kisses against your skin make you fall into a blissful reverie.

It doesn't feel like the wedding is tomorrow. The reality hasn't quite hit you yet; you've always felt like it's been some unreachable day that won't ever happen. But now, you sense the forthcoming nerves and anticipation somewhere deep in your bones.

Only one more sunrise until he's eternally yours.

Once the sun has plunged below the horizon and left a blended tangerine and turquoise sky in its wake, Harry lets you take control of the steering wheel to drive the boat back to the docks. You successfully station it between two narrow piers. The men that had previously helped get up from their chairs and come over with rope. Harry takes the key out of the ignition, puts his backpack on, and then grabs your hand and ushers you to land.

"Grazie per la vostra generosità," he tells them with a hand on his heart. "Buonanotte."

"Sei il benvenuto," replies one of the men with a kind bow. "Guidare sicuri."

The both of you smile and walk to the parking lot, getting back in the car.

"That was so relaxing," you say as you slightly recline the seat and sigh happily.

"Mm-hmm." Harry rubs his full stomach and yawns. "Definitely gonna sleep like a baby tonight."

"Really? I think I'll be up all night with anxiety."

"Why? Getting cold feet already?"

"No, just nerves," you say. "It's a life-changing event we've been planning for so long."

His thumb strokes the back of your hand as he starts driving. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty confident I made the right choice in marrying you."

"I'm not doubting that. I just—"

"I know, love," he interrupts softly. "I'll probably be a jittery mess tomorrow if it makes you feel any better."

You give him a reassuring glance before closing your eyes while he takes the backroads that lead to the villa. The windows are rolled down, warm air envelops your face, and the smell of bread makes you hungry again. Harry will often read random names of restaurants and shops that he passes or quietly hiccup from all the food he ate earlier.

Just as everything becomes background noise, you suddenly feel the car slow down and jerk to a stop. You open your eyes and see that you're on a flat bridge made of grey cobblestone that connects the downtown area to a dirt path lined with cottages. You look over at Harry and find him staring at you with an indecipherable expression, his mouth downturned and his eyes dancing between yours.

"I think there's something wrong with the car," he says.

"What?"

"It just stopped." He scratches his jaw and sighs. I'm pressing on the gas, but it's not moving."

You blink in confusion. "The car is in park, Harry.

"No, I think the car just broke down. Stay here. Let me check under the hood."

"Just put it in drive. Nothing's wrong with it."

Harry ignores you and opens the door, getting out and slowly walking to the front. His hands place themselves on his hips as he bends his knees and studies the car like he knows what he's doing. He definitely does not.

"Hey!" he calls out, pointing a finger somewhere next to you. "It's a little chilly out. Do you mind grabbing my suit jacket from under my seat?"

Suit jacket? What is he talking about? You turn your head and reach under the driver's seat to blindly grab the jacket he apparently brought along. You feel a soft material against your fingertips, and you pick it up and set it on your lap. Sure enough, it's a suit jacket that's neatly folded and the color of a robin's egg. You've never seen it before, and you don't know when he could have possibly bought it since you've been inseparable since arriving in Italy.

You hold it up, and Harry grins, shuffling over to the passenger window. You notice that the stripes on his button-up perfectly match the jacket. Interesting.

"Grazie," he says nonchalantly, taking it from you and putting it on. "Fits like a glove. Speaking of..."

You cross your arms over the window and rest your chin on them. "You're acting really suspicious right now, and I suggest you tell me what's going on before I cancel the wedding."

Harry simply laughs and heads over to the hood. You watch as he reaches into his suit pocket, pulling out a pair of white gloves made of lace.

Now you're concerned.

He gazes up at you from under his eyelashes and smirks, putting on the gloves like he's about to perform surgery. "What?" he asks while straightening his collar. "I don't want to get my hands dirty."

You shake your head in disbelief. "Where did you even get those?"

He ignores you once again and pulls out his phone. He types something briefly and then holds it against his ear. "Towing company," he mouths to you, pointing at his phone with a wink.

You're speechless as you sit in the car, wondering what he mysteriously has up his sleeve. You're not stupid; there's obviously something going on because the car clearly has not broken down, and he's calling a towing company for some reason.

During the short conversation, you listen to him speak Italian in a low murmur, and before you know it, he's hanging up and strolling toward the metal railing of the bridge. He puts his hands in his pockets and paces back and forth, looking up at the peach-colored sky and then out at the sapphire-blue water.

As you're about to step out and join whatever he's doing, you hear distant music start playing. You look out the window and see a group of people walking in your direction, all holding instruments such as mandolins, horns, and accordions. Harry is also walking your way in your peripheral vision, a cheeky expression on his face.

You don't know where to look, but your ears recognize the familiar tune of "That's Amore" by Dean Martin when the group starts singing. Harry quickly rounds to the front of the car and does a clumsy spin, then leans his body and elbow on the hood, lifting one foot up as he begins mouthing along to the lyrics with a satisfied smile.

"Dance with me, amante."

You let out a shocked laugh and join him. "Did you plan all this?"

He daintily sticks out his gloved hand for you to take. "I might have researched Italian wedding traditions a while ago. One of them involves serenading the bride from outside her window, but... I put my own twist on it, I guess. The car didn't actually break down."

You hum against his chest as he begins swaying you. "Yeah, I caught onto that pretty quickly."

"I'm a shit liar," he mumbles into your hair, giving you a twirl. "Anyway, the bride is supposed to lower down a basket of bread, cheese, and prosciutto to accept the marriage." His hand leaves your waist to dig into his pocket. "And my darling, I just happen to have some leftover cheese cubes. Would you be so kind as to do the honors?"

He pulls out a small bag with only three pieces of cheese left. He takes one out and holds it gently between his fingertips. You take it and dramatically clear your throat. "Harry Styles, I accept this marriage. I cannot wait until tomorrow."

Grabbing your wrist, he pops the cheese into his mouth, grinning widely as he chews. "I accept your acceptance."

You continue slow dancing on the bridge as the song crescendos, the singers happily crooning the love-filled lyrics while you're pressed close to Harry.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

——

White silk with a subtle hue of lavender feels cool against your skin, the thin fabric of your dress lightly blowing in the breeze.

Harry is right around the corner, probably fidgeting with his fingers behind his back, toeing the ground, and ensuring his outfit is wrinkle-free. You can almost feel his energy, along with the collection of yours and Harry's close family and friends who flew out for the wedding. You hear them distantly chatter as they wait for your arrival.

Deep breaths are the only kind you've been taking all day, and you're surprised the pendant of your necklace isn't shaking from how hard and fast your heart is pounding. You haven't seen Harry since you fell asleep next to him last night, knowing he planned to sneakily slip out of the villa to get ready with his groomsmen early in the morning.

It's evening, so a golden tint casts over everything. The private ceremony occurs outside the lakeside courtyard, surrounded by lush gardens and pathways shaded by trees. The white aisle is rolled out, and a tall, flowered arch can be seen from where you stand behind the trimmed hedges. Stone statues guard the premises, some with moss and chipped bodies.

As you focus on a yellow butterfly that lands on a blade of grass, you suddenly hear the ceremonial music begin playing. Someone behind you squeezes your shoulders and gently pushes you, whispering encouraging words in your ear. You're too distracted by the movement of your dress to comprehend them as you begin walking down the aisle.

Watch your step.

One foot in front of the other.

Don't trip.

Yet when you finally turn the corner, keeping your eyes on the ground is impossible. It's as if everything happens in slow motion. You hear excited gasps and violins in your ears, but your eyes are the strongest sense at the moment. They naturally gravitate upwards to find Harry. He's wearing all silk, just like the both of you planned, along with the same hue of lavender threaded into the fabric. Silk trousers with a silk dress shirt tucked into them and white suspenders over it. A couple buttons are undone.

He's so stupidly handsome.

Once your gaze meets his, matching smiles of pure love take over both of your faces. His is a dimpled one that leaves you breathless, and yours is a gentle one that makes his tears spill over.

You see him roll his trembling lips in, looking down with a soft laugh and sniffle. When you reach him, you accept his bouquet of flowers and stand face-to-face with him for the first time today.

"You look gorgeous," he whispers while shaking his head in awe.

"You look pretty," you whisper back.

He bites the inside of his cheek and glances down at your lips. "I want to kiss you, but I can't."

You laugh and look at the officiant when he raises his hands. "Welcome, everyone," he says. You may be seated."

Everyone sits, and you exhale a long breath. You feel Harry squeeze your hands as the officiant drones on about the joining of the couple and what lifelong commitment means. You're not listening, too lost in Harry's teary eyes as they roam your face and dress.

"Is the bride ready to say her vows?"

You snap your head to the side and nod, a little embarrassed that you zoned out during what were probably important and sentimental words.

You release Harry's hands and take the folded note from your bra, making the crowd laugh. Harry rolls his eyes with a smirk. As you smooth the paper's creases, you feel your throat bob with emotion, thinking about how you poured every bit of your soul into the inked words you wrote for him.

Inhaling deeply, you swallow the lump in your throat. "Harry," you say with a tender squeeze of his sweaty hand, "you are someone who I believe comes into people's lives with a purpose. You came into mine when I wasn't looking for love, but you swept me off my feet with your kindness and attentive nature. I'm so in love with you, truly. When your eyes crinkle with laughter or when you remember intricate details about me. I even love the annoying things, like how you really love peas or how you have to turn the radio down when the roads are busy so you can concentrate. Everything you do and say is beautiful. Your presence is graceful and warm. I'm so thankful I get to be around it for the rest of my life. I love you and promise to do so through every moment, whether rain or shine. Ti amo."

When you finish, your cheeks are damp with tears as the crowd claps. Harry looks past you, quickly wiping under his eyes.

"And would the groom like to say his vows?" asks the officiant.

"Yeah, one second," Harry says as he tilts his head and blinks back tears. He looks back down and takes his vows out from his sock.

"Ew," you say.

"Shush," he says with a smirk. "Okay, um... I'm going to try to get through this without completely losing it." He clears his throat. "So, I wrote this last night when you were sleeping. I wasn't procrastinating; I just wanted to write it when my emotions were high."

He unfolds the paper and straightens his posture. "I love you so much. You know it. Everyone knows it. You've had me whipped since I met you, and I swear it's only gotten worse over the years. I told you when I proposed that I was weak for you. Well, I still am. Always will be. Because I hang onto every word you speak, and my heart beats like a madman every time you look at me. The tremendous love you give me is something I don't deserve. It keeps me going, and the fact that I get to feel it for a lifetime makes me the happiest man in the world. Ti amo forever."

You let out a soft sob and dab under your eyes with your knuckle so your makeup doesn't smear. You secretly give Harry the middle finger for making you cry, and he gives one back, making your family and friends cackle.

"Now for the rings." The officiant hands both of you your designated bands and then looks at you first. "Does the bride take the groom to be her lawfully wedded husband?"

You slide the gold band onto Harry's ring finger, his hand shaking. "Lo voglio."

He seems surprised by your unexpected Italian, raising his eyebrows.

"And does the groom take the bride as his lawfully wedded wife?"

Harry slides your ring on. "Lo voglio," he repeats confidently.

"Then it is my delight and honor to now pronounce you husband and wife," concludes the officiant. "Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Styles!"

Everyone stands and cheers, hollering in celebration. Harry spreads his arms and pumps his fists with a wide smile.

"Can I kiss him?" you ask impatiently.

The officiant laughs and nods. "Yes, you may kiss the groom."

You immediately grab Harry's cheeks and slot your mouth over his, feeling his arms tightly wrap around your waist as he dips you toward the ground. The crowd whoops, and camera shutters click, capturing the official moment.

"Mrs. Styles," Harry murmurs against your lips, kissing them repeatedly until they ache.

You grab his hand to walk down the aisle together, waving and smiling at your families as they throw white flower petals in your path. There's a green convertible parked at the end, a getaway car of sorts, for you and Harry to take to the reception. It has a wreath hung across the trunk and bottles of alcohol and bread in a basket on the console. Harry opens the door for you as family and friends gather around, taking pictures and chatting to one another.

"Wait, we have to change into our outfits before we get there," you say abruptly as he begins slowly driving away. "We didn't think this through."

When you and Harry were planning the wedding, you agreed that you should both change into comfortable party outfits for the reception so it would be easier to move around and dance. Outfits the others hadn't seen yet were picked out and secretly packed in separate suitcases.

You took a risk with yours, to say the least.

"No," he gasps dramatically. "What are we possibly going to do? Bloody hell, we'll have to change in the woods!"

You smack his arm. "Shut up, I'm serious! I've been waiting all year to show you my outfit. We have to stop somewhere."

"Love, we can just change in the bathrooms once we get there."

"Fine. Hurry up, though. I'm excited."

He rolls his eyes and presses on the gas pedal harder.

After about ten minutes, you arrive at the outdoor reception area, which has circular tables and chairs on the lawn with a dance floor in the middle. String lights decorate the low-hanging trees, and some people are already gathered with flutes of champagne and plates of appetizers in their hands.

Harry parks the car and grabs your suitcases, sneakily going around the back of the old-fashioned estate that the venue is a part of. A security guard, wearing sunglasses and an earpiece, stands straight as a pin in front of the fancy double doors.

"Excuse me, sir," Harry says, never letting go of your hand. "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

He clears his throat and looks him up and down suspiciously. "Take the first left. The door is the fourth one on your right."

"Thank you!" you call out from behind since Harry is already dragging you down the porcelain hallway.

Once you reach the bathrooms, Harry enters one stall while you go in the other. You're both breathing heavily and giggling as you unclasp your suitcases and pull out your outfits.

Yours is a rose gold mesh bodycon dress decorated with rhinestones that came with long, matching gloves. Your beige underwear and bra will be visible under it, but that's the intended purpose. You also bought a faux fur boa scarf to hook around your elbows. You unzip your wedding dress and slip on the other one, then walk out of the stall with your empty suitcase.

Harry walks out a minute later, and your knees weaken. He's wearing a suit jacket and trousers with no shirt underneath. What's even more incredible is that the color of the sequined material is almost the exact shade of what you're wearing.

"Shut up," Harry says with a laugh of disbelief. "No way we picked the same color."

All you can respond with is: "Your tits are out."

He looks down at them. "Yeah... I suppose they are."

"You look so hot."

"So do you." He runs his hands from your waist down to your ass. "You look dazzling, Mrs. fuckin' Styles."

"Don't start anything," you warn, gripping the lapels of his suit. "We need to say hello to everyone."

He smirks. "It's crazy that we thought of the same color. I was going to buy a white vest and matching pants, but something told me to get this instead."

"That just means you have good fashion intuition."

"No, I think it means we're soulmates."

You kiss him. "That, too. C'mon, let's go before people get bored."

The reception commences, and hugs and well wishes are all around as you and Harry wander the lawn hand in hand. The weather is perfect, and the sun isn't too sweltering because of the breeze from the nearby lake.

Hours pass, the moon is out, and string lights twinkle around the venue. The dance floor has been open for a while, everyone a little tipsy and sweaty as they dance with each other. You've already done the first dance with Harry, swaying to "Moonlight Serenade" by Frank Sinatra as he whispered sweet nothings with his forehead pressed against yours.

After another slow song ends and couples find other people to dance with, "Careless Whisper" starts playing. Harry borderline screeches in your face while shaking your shoulders.

When the bridge plays, he gets down on his knees before you and belts the lyrics, hair falling in his face as his outfit shimmers from the strobe lights. You put the fur boa around his neck and pull him closer. His hands run up the length of your legs, eventually reaching your hands as you help him.

"My pants just ripped!" he yells over the music.

"Seriously?!" you yell back with wide eyes.

He tilts his head back and laughs with his hands resting on his exposed stomach. You immediately spot the small, ripped seam on his right thigh and begin laughing along with him. It's not even that funny, but cloud nine lifts you too high to care.

The party goes on, and people slowly leave as midnight nears. Soon enough, it's just you and Harry left as the music volume lowers and the chairs start being put away. You eventually stumble with flushed cheeks and giddy smiles to the sleek black limo waiting at the front of the estate.

"Where am I taking the happy couple?" asks the driver.

"Villa Balbiano, please," Harry replies. "And turn the music up loud, yeah? Apologies in advance."

The both of you clamber into the back of the limo, immediately putting the partition up. You straddle Harry's parted thighs as he begins massaging your breasts. "Take your bra off. Let me see your tits under this dress."

You unclip your bra, sliding it off and tossing it to the side. Harry kneads your ass and tilts his head back against the headrest, the veins in his perspiring neck becoming noticeable.

"I'm so gone for you," he says, biting your thumb as if restraining himself from doing a more provocative act.

"That's sweet." You climb off his lap and sit beside him, putting your seatbelt on. "But you'll have to wait."

His jaw clenches in annoyance, and you grin. You love giving him whiplash.

The ride to the villa is short but filled with tension. Harry broodingly looks out the window when the driver pulls into the gravel driveway, his right hand gripping the edge of the seat, his thighs tense.

Once the car is parked, Harry kindly squeezes the driver's shoulder, opens the door, and gets out. In an instant, your door is opened, and you're suddenly scooped up and thrown over Harry's shoulder as he walks up the driveway toward the arched doors. He navigates through the spacious rooms and up the grand staircase in complete silence.

You know what you're in for.

Harry tosses you on the king-size bed and crawls over you, placing his forearms on either side of your body. His cross necklace dangles over you, which is ironic considering how he's looking at you right now.

"Gonna let me fuck my wife, or do I have to wait for that too?" he asks lowly, leaving open-mouthed kisses to your breasts and keeping eye contact with you.

You bite your lip and slide the straps of your dress down, quickly slipping it off. Harry then grabs your wrist and uses his teeth to take one of your gloves, biting the fabric at the top of your fingertips. They're long and tight, so he struggles, huffing and closing his eyes in disappointment.

"This is supposed to be sexy. Stop making fun of me," Harry says with a defeated laugh, taking the route of just yanking them off and throwing them on the floor.

"I didn't say anything," you say, covering your mouth so you don't let a laugh escape. "And those are really expensive, Harry!"

He just shushes you and takes your underwear off. He then buries his face into your inner thigh as you spread your legs open. You're already wet, your warm arousal sticking to your skin. He laps some of it up and rumbles a groan.

"Will you let your husband take care of you tonight? Hmm? Tell me."

"God, Harry." You whine when his nose nudges your aching clit. "Yes. Please."

"So polite for me." He teasingly licks the inside of you with one stroke of his tongue, but it's not enough. "Such a good girl that was dressed like a filthy slut tonight."

"Says you," you reply breathlessly. "You had your tits out all night while you danced with my grandma."

Harry hums a laugh and pushes his nose forward, making you wrap your legs around his waist and arch your back on the bed. He lets out a long moan, beginning to unapologetically lick every last slick drop of arousal that seems to keep pouring out. His hands grip your thighs so tight you're positive there will be bruises left from his rings.

His quiet moans and suckling are muffled by his face pressed right up against your pussy, his hair tickling the bottom of your stomach as his head tilts with each new angle he tries. Your mouth is parted open, desperate whimpers leaving it as your hands tug at his curls.

You know he won't use his fingers, always keen on making you come with just one method. You feel dizzy from the tingling sensation in your thighs and core, your orgasm knotting with a deep ache.

"I'm gonna come," you tell him, digging your heel into his back. "Harry, I'm gonna... I feel it. I can't hold it."

What he does next is heaven. Without moving his head or stopping his tongue, he lifts his hand and presses his large palm down on your lower stomach, massaging it in small circles to help coax the swelling pleasure out. Just as you feel as though you're about to burst, he removes his tongue and lifts his head.

"No, no, no," you say, jerking your hips up.

"Hey, look at me," Harry demands, his lips swollen and glistening. "What's wrong? Am I being mean?"

"I hate you."

"That's no way to talk to your husband, now is it?" He unbuttons his trousers and takes them off, along with his boxers. "What makes you think I'm not going to stuff you full right now with my cock? Or is that not what you want?"

You catch your breath and swallow, your throat terribly dry. "No, I want it. I do."

Harry squeezes his throbbing cock and hovers over you with one hand placed next to your head, his arm bulging and sheened with sweat. It isn't going to take long for you to come undone.

"Yeah?" He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom from the drawer. "You like it when I'm that deep inside you?" he asks, tearing the package open.

"It's my favorite part."

He rolls the condom on and kisses your knee. "Is that what you want?" His voice is now soft as he strokes strands of hair from your face. "You want me to be nice and give you what you want?"

"I know you like it too," you whisper. "Don't even try to lie."

He smirks while running his tongue across his teeth. "And how would you know that?"

"Because you always put your hand right here" — you grab his hand and gently place it below your navel — "to feel it. Your eyes roll back every time. I love it."

His nostrils flare. "You love watching me? How did I not know this about my wife?"

"You're too fucking gone for me to notice," you say, repeating his words from earlier.

He nearly growls, lining himself up with your entrance before thrusting in with no warning. You gasp, holding onto his shoulders as he rocks inside of you, his cock burning past your walls. The headboard hits the wall with each of his powerful thrusts, and you moan pitifully when he goes long and deep. One of his hands holds onto the top of the headboard, and his other holds your limp hand on the sheets.

"So tight," Harry breathes out. "How do you fit all of me, huh? You're so tight and pretty."

Your legs ache as they bend from the force he pounds into you with. He sloppily kisses your lips, teeth knocking against yours and pleading moans escaping into your mouth. His scruff rubs against your face as he continues thrusting faster and faster until the knot forms again, this time stronger than before. You can feel him in the pit of your stomach, leaving you breathless and crazed when his abs move against the slight bulge that forms there.

"There we go," he praises. "That's it, baby. Is that what you needed?"

After another couple of thrusts and encouragements from him, you arch and release while gripping his hand and looking into his eyes. Harry comes at the same time, rutting his hips into yours as he shudders with a deep, guttural moan against your neck.

He hums, pulling out and cradling your cheeks. "You good?"

You nod, watching him quickly discard the condom and flop on top of your heaving body. Everything feels hot, sweat dripping down your hairline and Harry's skin sticking to yours.

"Thank you," you say hoarsely.

"For what, giving you an orgasm?" he asks with a laugh.

"For everything," you reply, running your fingers through his damp hair. "I always feel like I'm floating around you."

"I'm your cloud."

"That oddly makes sense. How do you say that in Italian?"

He starts giggling into your chest, dimples carving his flushed cheeks. "Nube."

You scoff. "Did you just call me a noob?"

His head whips up as he says, "No. Nube means cloud in Italian."

"Nube… that's funny." The both of you start silently laughing at each other, slowly coming down from the high.

"Shit," Harry exhales. "Someone left us some wine."

You turn your head to where he's looking and see a wine bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag on the dresser. There's also a little note attached to it.

Harry gets out of bed and walks over to it with his ass on full display, making you start giggling again. He grabs the wine and gets under the sheets, weaving his legs with yours.

You take it from him, popping the cork and raising the bottle. "Cheers to us. Ti amo forever, nube."

He grabs your hand and kisses the ring on your finger. "Ti amo, Mrs. Styles."

You take a swig, letting the crisp sweetness coat your throat before Harry has some.

You've come to realize that bliss can be tangible. Silk sheets and red wine. Heated skin and purposeful touches. Soft eyes and kisses just because. If you could, you would bottle this moment up to drink, letting the liquified love permanently stain your soul.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #adore-laur #cloud nine

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goddessofwild · 1 month

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Any Indian MDZS or The Untamed fan here?

If yes, then is it just me being their crazy fan or "moh moh ke dhaage", "Hasi" and "Siyaah Raatein" does really suits them perfectly?

For reference to those who don't understand Hindi, here are the links of songs' lyrics with translation.

Moh Moh Ke Dhaage -

Hasi -

Haan hasi ban gaye

Haan nami ban gaye

Tum mere aasmaan

Meri zameen ban gaye

Yes, you have become my smile

Yes, you have become my tears

You have become my sky

You have become my earth

Haan hum badalne lage

Girne sambhalne lage

Jab se hai jaana tumhein

Teri ore chalne lage

Yes, I have started to change

Started to stumble and gain stability

Since I have come to know you

I started walking/moving towards you

Har safar har jagah

Har kahin ban gaye

Maante thhe Khuda

Aur haan wahi ban gaye

Every journey, every place

You have become my everywhere

I used to believe in god

And you have become one

Pehchaante hi nahi ab log tanha mujhe

Meri nigaahon mein bhi hai dhoondte wo tujhe

Hum the dhoondhte jisey wo kami ban gaye

Tum mere ishq ki sar-zameen ban gaye

People no longer recognise me without you

Even in my eyes they look for you

You have become the one that I was lacking

You have become my land of love

Siyaah Raatein -

Faili thi siyaan raatein

Aaya tu subah leke

Bewajah si zindagi mein

Jeene ki wajah leke

Khoya tha samandaron mein

Tanah safina mera

Sahilon pe aaya hai tu

Jaane kis kadar leke

You brought morning

To my dark night

You brought reason to live

In my meaningless life

I was like a boat

Lost in the vast sea

I have no idea how

But you brought it(me) to the shore

Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta

Kaise hum jaane

Humein kya pata

Kuch toh hai tujhse raabta

There is some connection with you

There has to be a connection with you

How would I know

I don't know how

There is some connection with you

Ab kya hai kehna

Humko hai rehna

Jannatein bhulaake

Teri baahon mein panaah leke

What is there to say

I want to live

Forgetting the heaven

Taking shelter in your arms

Meherbaani jaate jaate

Mujhpe kar gaya

Guzarata sa lamha

Ek Daaman bhar gaya

Tera nazaara.. mila

Roshan sitaara mila

Takdeer ka

Jaise koi..

Ishaara mila

It showed compassion to me

While passing by

A moment that was just passing by

Gave me what I needed

Seeing you was like

seeing the bright star

It was like

A signal

Of destiny

Ruthi hui khwaaishon se

Thodi si sulah leke

Aaya tu khamoshiyon mein

Baaton ki jirah leke

Khoya tha samandaron mein

Tanah safina mera

Sahilon pe aaya hai tu

Jaane kis tarah leke

You brought back the desires

Which has already left me

You filled my silence

With your bickering of talk

I was like a boat

Lost in the vast sea

I have no idea how

But you brought it(me) to the shore

#cdrama #chinese drama #drama #the untamed #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #lan zhan #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #bollywood songs #indian

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alphaman99 · 8 months

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Mark Flatt

One crisp winter morning in Sweden, a cute little girl named Greta woke up to a perfect world, one where there were no petroleum products ruining the earth. She tossed aside her cotton sheet and wool blanket and stepped out onto a dirt floor covered with willow bark that had been pulverized with rocks. “What’s this?” she asked.

“Pulverized willow bark,” replied her fairy godmother.

“What happened to the carpet?” she asked.

“The carpet was nylon, which is made from butadiene and hydrogen cyanide, both made from petroleum,” came the response.

Greta smiled, acknowledging that adjustments are necessary to save the planet, and moved to the sink to brush her teeth where instead of a toothbrush, she found a willow, mangled on one end to expose wood fibre bristles.

“Your old toothbrush?” noted her godmother, “Also nylon.”

“Where’s the water?” asked Greta.

“Down the road in the canal,” replied her godmother, ‘Just make sure you avoid water with cholera in it”

“Why’s there no running water?” Greta asked, becoming a little peevish.

“Well,” said her godmother, who happened to teach engineering at MIT, “Where do we begin?” There followed a long monologue about how sink valves need elastomer seats and how copper pipes contain copper, which has to be mined and how it’s impossible to make all-electric earth-moving equipment with no gear lubrication or tires and how ore has to be smelted to a make metal, and that’s tough to do with only electricity as a source of heat, and even if you use only electricity, the wires need insulation, which is petroleum-based, and though most of Sweden’s energy is produced in an environmentally friendly way because of hydro and nuclear, if you do a mass and energy balance around the whole system, you still need lots of petroleum products like lubricants and nylon and rubber for tires and asphalt for filling potholes and wax and iPhone plastic and elastic to hold your underwear up while operating a copper smelting furnace and . . .

“What’s for breakfast?” interjected Greta, whose head was hurting.

"Fresh, range-fed chicken eggs,” replied her godmother. “Raw.”

“How so, raw?” inquired Greta.

“Well, . . .” And once again, Greta was told about the need for petroleum products like transformer oil and scores of petroleum products essential for producing metals for frying pans and in the end was educated about how you can’t have a petroleum-free world and then cook eggs. Unless you rip your front fence up and start a fire and carefully cook your egg in an orange peel like you do in Boy Scouts. Not that you can find oranges in Sweden anymore.

“But I want poached eggs like my Aunt Tilda makes,” lamented Greta.

“Tilda died this morning,” the godmother explained. “Bacterial pneumonia.”

“What?!” interjected Greta. “No one dies of bacterial pneumonia! We have penicillin.”

“Not anymore,” explained godmother “The production of penicillin requires chemical extraction using isobutyl acetate, which, if you know your organic chemistry, is petroleum-based. Lots of people are dying, which is problematic because there’s not any easy way of disposing of the bodies since backhoes need hydraulic oil and crematoriums can’t really burn many bodies using as fuel Swedish fences and furniture, which are rapidly disappearing - being used on the black market for roasting eggs and staying warm.”

This represents only a fraction of Greta’s day, a day without microphones to exclaim into and a day without much food, and a day without carbon-fibre boats to sail in, but a day that will save the planet.

Tune in tomorrow when Greta needs a root canal and learns how Novocain is synthesized.

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pwlanier · 11 months

Text

Today in Great Lakes shipping history. June 9th.

1900: TASHMOO (steel side-wheel excursion steamer, 308 foot, 1,344 gross tons, built in 1900, at Wyandotte, Michigan) hosted Admiral George Dewey on her inaugural trip from Cleveland, Ohio, to Detroit, Michigan, on 09 June 1900. Admiral Dewey had just returned from his conquest of the Philippines during the Spanish American War and was a national hero. TASHMOO entered regular service for the White Star Line two days later.

1909: ASSINIBOIA and CRESCENT CITY were washed through the Canadian Lock at Sault Ste. Marie when the upbound PERRY G. WALKER struck the lower gate. All three ships were damaged but were repaired and returned to service.

1938: The GOVERNOR MILLER (Hull#810) a sister ship to the WILLIAM A. IRVIN, began her maiden voyage, leaving Lorain, Ohio. The GOVERNOR MILLER was only the second Great Lakes vessel to be powered by a steam turbine with a direct drive to the propeller shaft via reduction gear.

1963: The newly built SILVER ISLE of Mohawk Navigation and the PRINS ALEXANDER of the Oranje Line, collided in fog and rain on the St. Lawrence near Kingston. Both ships required repairs.

1979: The French freighter MELUSINE first came to the Great Lakes in 1962 and returned as b) LENA in 1978. It sank the French fishing vessel ANTIOCHE III in the English Channel with the loss of 4 lives on this day in 1979. LENA was scrapped at Ferrol, Spain, in 1982, after suffering engine damage on a voyage from Bilbao, Spain, to Detroit.

2023: The sun rises over Lake Superior as Mesabi Miner arrives to load ore.

Boat Nerd

#great lakes #shipping #ore boat #tug boat #freighter #nautical #maritime #edmund fitzgerald #ship wreck

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aviationgeek71 · 3 months

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Parting the glistening currents of the Ohio River, her steam-driven sternwheel churns to the rhythm of water and machine. A world known only to her crew of 20, men working a six-hour watch, they labor to her melody.

The great river, known by the Iroquois as "O-Y-O," and later named, "Ohio," greets her haul with a loving embrace. Its sparkling waters living up to the French name, La Belle Viviere, meaning beautiful river. A beauty that now tenderly flows softly with the steam-powered towboat — the term "tow" referring to the lashed assembly of barges it pushes forward on her journey along the Midwestern coastline.

When her haul first graced the waters in 1918, she was originally named the W.H. Clingerman; however, after being purchased by the Crucible Steel Company in 1945, she was renamed for their company chairman, W.P. Snyder Jr.

For more than three decades, her frothy wake echoed along the beautiful river towns. Laboring day and night, feeding the U.S. economy — a nation blessed with perfect geography, as its great rivers unite as one, forming the mighty Mississippi on a voyage to the sea — moving barges loaded with coal, iron ore, and steel.

As steam-powered engines gradually surrendered to diesel, her life story finally concluded in 1954. While many of her sister boats would be scrapped, fate intervened in 1955 when the W.P. Snyder Jr was donated as a museum piece.

Photo: W.P. Snyder Jr at the Ohio River Museum, Marietta, Ohio.

By @aviationgeek71

#old boat #ohio river #ohio history #my photography #my photo #original photography #my writing #original writing

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footprintsinthesxnd · 2 months

Text

Chapter 3: You’re Breaking My Heart

Eugene Roe x Violet Elwood

Summary: Everything was going so well, until it wasn’t. Things with Violet had been going swimmingly but how much can a person heart really take?

Warnings: implied sex scene, mentions of hospitals

August 12th 1941

Eugene watched as the drinks wobbled precariously on the tray as he moved through the crowd of people and towards the table where Violet and Henry were waiting. They were deep in conversation when Eugene arrived and he managed to catch the end of it before they noticed him.

“Violet, you have to tell Eugene. You can’t keep something like this from him,” Henry asserted, raising an eyebrow when Violet sighed.

“I can’t tell him, and you can’t either. It’s not yours to tell,” Violet snapped, her face quickly morphing into a smile when she noticed him. “Eugene, you’re back.”

“What were you two whispering about?” Eugene asked, placing the drinks on the table and sliding into the booth beside her.

Violet stayed silent for a moment, glancing at Henry before replying, “I was just telling Henry about what surprise I have planned for your birthday.” She leaned over and pecked Eugene’s cheek but he caught her before she pulled away and brought her in for a proper kiss. Eugene had never believed in feeling butterflies from a kiss until he kissed Violet, now every kiss felt as special as their first.

“A surprise? My birthday isn’t until October, you're planning early,” Eugene laughed, but Violet simply nodded.

“It’s good to be prepared,” she nuzzled her head against Eugene’s neck, sighing contently as his arm came around her, pulling her close.

August 27th 1941

Rose greeted Eugene when he appeared at the front door, “Mornin’ Eugene, Violet will be down in a minute. You wanna come in?”

“Sure,” Eugene thanked her, following her down the familiar corridor and into the family kitchen. Violet’s mother was tidying the kitchen and quickly pulled off her apron, hurrying over to him.

“Eugene, hello,” she pulled him into a hug which he quickly returned. He always felt so welcome in the Elwood household, even Violet’s father seemed to like him.

Violet came slowly down the stairs, smiling sweetly at him. “Hello Gene,” she embraced him, kissing his cheek delicately.

“What are you two up to today then?” Her mother asked, packing some sandwiches into a bag and handing them to Violet.

“We're going out to Henry’s family’s boat for the day,” Violet spoke cheerfully, clearly very excited about the prospect of their boat trip.

“Sounds fun,” Violet’s mum gave her a quick kiss. “Well, be safe and have fun.” Eugene followed Violet along the hall when her mother hurried after them. “Violet, don’t forget these.” She handed her something which Violet quickly buried in her pocket, sending Eugene a small smile.

He began to ask what her mother had given her but Violet quickly linked her hand through his, pulling him through the front door. “Come on or we’ll miss the bus.”

It was a short bus ride to the edge of the city where the Johnsons moored their boat, and the pair arrived shortly before noon. The sun was hanging high in the sky, beating down on the pair as Eugene helped Violet climb onto the small boat. It was merely a rowing boat, nothing grand or special, and yet Violet was so excited to go in it. He couldn’t help but grin back at her and he took up the ores and began to row, her smile was infectious.

As they pushed away from the dock and Eugene began to row further out Violet pointed out things on the land, or the way the water rippled, or how bright the sun was. It was as if she was experiencing all these things for the first time and it reminded him of the day at the lake with Henry. She seemed to intrigued by everything, as if she had yet to experience much of what life had to offer.

When they were out far enough from land, Eugene balanced the ores so they were no longer in the water and they were left to float around in the clear water. Occasionally fish passed underneath the boat, their silver bellies glistening in the afternoon sunshine.

Violet opened up the package of sandwiches, offering Eugene one, which he accepted gratefully, enjoying the taste, if not the rough texture of the bread. She opened a small pot and took a round tablet from it, placing it on her tongue and washing it down with water from the canteen.

“You okay?” Gene asked, watching as her eyes grew wide and she mumbled something, shoving the pot back in her bag.

“I think I have a migraine coming on,” she smiled weakly at him, taking a bite from her sandwich and began chewing quickly.

Eugene nibbled at the edge of his sandwich thoughtfully, sometimes it seemed like he knew Violet better than anyone, other times it felt like he didn’t know her at all.

Violet soon changed the subject, pointing out a colourful fish that splashed at the edge of the boat, weaving between the reeds and disappearing behind a rock. Violet had a childlike manner when it came to pointing out animals that always made Eugene smile, whether it was pointing out a dog walking down the street or a cat sitting on a fence, she always noticed them.

After finishing his sandwich Eugene rowed them further across the lake, before turning the boat and started the paddle back to the shore. The sun grew low in the sky, and a cool breeze began to blow across the lake. Violet began to hum a soft tune and with the setting sun glowing on her Eugene couldn’t help but see the resemblance to an angel, an ethereal being. Eugene often wondered if she was closer to God in some way, through things she said. She was very perceptive and had a way of looking at life like no one he’d ever met before.

Back on the shore, Eugene helped Violet climb from the boat, ensuring it didn’t too as she stepped out and passed her the bag and tied the boat back to its moor. Violet sat on the bank watching him with a smile on her lips.

“What are you looking at?” He chuckled, moving closer to her and pressing his lips firmly to hers. She smiled into the kiss and Eugene knew that he could happily spend the rest of his life kissing her lips.

“Just looking at you,” she replied, a light brush spreading across her cheeks as Eugene began to kiss her once more.

“Oh really,” he mumbled against her lips, cupping her cheek gently and raising her chin so he had better access to her lips.

“I like it when you kiss me, Gene,” Violet mumbled, gripping the front of his shirt, and looking up at him with her large blue eyes. “I really like it when you kiss me.” She looked down in her lap before meeting his gaze once more, “I think I love you, Gene.”

“Well I really like kissin’ you too,” Eugene assured her, pushing her hair away from her face but she just shook her head, causing the blonde strands to fall back. “And I think I love you too.” He couldn’t believe the words left his mouth but he was glad they did. To finally admit how he truly felt for Violet felt like a huge weight lifted but Violet’s face said otherwise.

“No Eugene, I really like kissing you and I’d like to kiss you a whole lot more, and maybe even…” she trailed off and Eugene cocked his head, thinking over her words until he swallowed hard, realising just what she was implying.

“Are you sure?” He whispered, unable to raise his voice any louder. His throat felt tight like someone was crushing his trachea.

“I’m sure, I’m very sure,” she assured him, gripping his collar and pulling him down for another kiss, this one more passionate than any of the kisses they had shared before. Eugene gasped and Violet took the opportunity to push her tongue into his mouth, fighting against his own for dominance which she quickly won. Eugene moved to kneel and Violet pulled him down with her as she lay on the grass.

Before things could go too far Eugene pulled away. “We can’t… not here,” he took her hand in his own, pulling them both to their feet. “There’s an old lake house on the far side of the lake. No one uses it but it’s pretty nice over there. Henry and I spent lots of time there last summer.” He wasn’t sure why he was suggesting the old lake house, he didn’t like to think what his mother would think of him but Violet nodding adamantly at him encouraged him to make the decision.

“Okay.”

The moonlight streamed through the crack in the wooden boards, casting an eerie, white glow across Eugene’s face as he stirred under the thin covers. His arm felt numb but he was unable to move it due to a heavy weight on it. Turning his head, he was met with the sleeping face of Violet, looking so peaceful under the moonlight. He reached across, smoothing his index finger over her cheek.

He’d never imagined his first time with a girl to be in a boathouse, especially not Violet. He’d imagined a romantic evening but thinking back on their day together he couldn’t think of anything more perfect. Everything was perfect with Violet by his side.

Checking his watch, the time read 09:00 pm. Shit. Despite not wanting to disturb Violet they had to get home soon, her parents liked him up until this point and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that.

“Violet? Vi Sweetheart, we have to get going. Your parents will want you home,” he pushed her gently but she didn’t stir. “Violet?”

Eugene sat up straight, leaning over Violet and shaking her harshly, “Violet!” His voice grew more urgent as his heart began hammering in his chest. When he continued to shake her to no avail he knew his only option was to get help. He pulled his clothes on quickly, scooping Violet up into his arms and hurrying out of the lake house. He was thankful for the road that ran alongside the lake and hurried up onto the tarmac, flagging down a passing car.

“It’s going to be okay, Violet. I’m going to get you help.”

Eugene had never spent much time in hospitals but from just sitting in the waiting room, he had grown to hate the place. One of the nurses had contacted Violet’s parents who luckily had a phone due to their shop, and they had passed on the message to his parents. The two families sat in utter silence and it was crushing Eugene with more guilt than he already felt.

Violet’s mother had begun crying when she saw him and pulled him straight into a bone-crushing hug to which he broke into a heartbreaking sob. All the emotions of the day finally caught up with him and now it was all too much. She loved him and he loved her. They had consummated their love and now… well now he wasn’t sure what was happening and he didn’t seem to be getting any answers.

As the hours dragged on, different family members got up and walked around, his sisters choosing to get some fresh air outside with Violet's sisters. Eugene couldn’t move from his seat, paralysed by the confusion and growing pain he felt in his chest.

“Mr and Mrs Elwood?” An older doctor in a long white coat appeared, a clipboard tucked under one arm.

“Yes,” Violet’s parents stood quickly, hurrying towards the doctor. He ushered them forward and Eugene stood too.

“What’s wrong with her?” He demanded, tears slipping down his cheeks. Violet’s mother turned to him, nodding to Violet’s father. The couple moved closer to Eugene, beckoning him to take a seat again but he refused.

Violet’s mother took a deep breath, “Eugene there’s something that you need to know… about Violet. It’s going to be hard to understand. She didn’t want to hurt you, that’s why she didn’t tell you.”

Eugene gulped, ignoring the tears that continued to slip down his cheeks, “Tell me what?”

Tags: @blueberry-ovaries @mads-weasley @coco-bean-1218 @she-wolf09231982 @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @hesbuckcompton-baby @allthingsimagines @bucky32557038ww2 @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @msmercury84 @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @hanniewinnix @inglourious-imagines @l13bg0tt @xxluckystrike @hogwartslegacypics @softguarnere

#heart to heart #band of brothers #eugene roe #Eugene roe x oc #Violet Elwood

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allthingsfangirl101 · 1 year

Text

Right in Front of You – Steve Harrington

Season 4, Episode 7

Requested by faithiegirl01

I looked over my shoulder to see the kids watching us from the shore. I quickly turned around and wrapped my arms around myself, resisting the urge to dive into the water and swim back to shore. I could feel Steve's eyes on me as we rowed to the middle of the lake. He opened his mouth to say something to me but Nancy interrupted him.

"This is it," she sighed. "This is where Patrick died."

"Alright," Eddie said loudly as he clapped his hands. "Who wants to dive down and search for a gate? Probably not me because I've never seen one."

"That counts me out," Robin chuckled awkwardly. Nancy, Steve, and I looked at each other. My heart jumped into my throat when Steve sighed and started taking off his shoes.

"What are you doing?" I stuttered.

"Somebody's gotta go down and check this out," he sighed. "Unless one of you four can top being Hawking High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then it's gotta be me. No complaints, alright?"

"But. . ."

Steve reached over and grabbed my hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he smiled at me.

"I'll be fine," he whispered. I opened my mouth to point out that he was going underwater, but he added, "I promise."

I looked away, unable to watch as my best friend, the boy I was secretly in love with, got ready to dive into the lake. I wrapped my arms around myself, holding my breath when I heard a splash. I struggled to keep my breathing under control as I tried not to think about Steve swimming toward a gate and what could be down there waiting for him.

I jumped when he finally came back to the surface. He swam to the edge of the boat, pulling himself up a little so he could see us. He instantly found me. I moved to the side of the boat, gently putting my hands over his.

"Did you see anything?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," he said, catching his breath. He finally looked away from me and towards Robin as he added, "Dustin was right. There's another gate."

"Underwater?" Nancy asked. "Is that even possible?"

The others started talking about the possibilities and whether or not we should go down there.

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

"I'm fine," he said, squeezing my hand. "You should see it though, Y/N. The gate is pretty. . ."

"Steve?" I asked when he stopped talking. "What's wrong?"

"Something. . ."

"Steve!" I screamed when he was pulled under. I didn't hesitate. I didn't listen to my friends. I didn't even think about it. I dove in after him.

I didn't have time to focus on the fact that demobats were dragging him down. I didn't have time to focus on how scary the gate looked. I didn't have time to hesitate before swimming through the gate.

I gasped for air as I struggled to climb through the gate. I didn't have time to relax before I heard Steve gasping for breath. I turned around, my heart jumping into my throat when I saw the demobat's tail wrapped around his neck.

I grabbed the closest thing to me which was a rowboat ore. As I started to hit the bat that was choking Steve, others started attacking me. I let out a surprised scream as I started attacking the ones attacking me.

"Y/N," Steve gasped out.

"Hold on!" I yelled between swats.

I continued to fight off as many as I could as I started to hear the others coming through the gate. I'm not sure what really happened or who killed how many. All I knew was that it was over.

I froze when I turned around and finally got a good look at Steve's condition. There was a large chunk missing from his side and there was a lot of blood dripping down his torso. I tried to move but couldn't when he spit up blood. I was brought out of my trance when he fell to his knees.

"Steve!" I yelled. I ran over, collapsing next to him. My hands were shaking as I hovered over his wounds.

"Is it bad?" Steve asked, trying to sound light-hearted but it came out forced.

"I don't know," I said shakily. "It looks. . . I may be able to. . . I don't know, Steve. I don't know but. . ."

"Hey," he said gently. "I'm going to be okay."

"It looks bad."

"It's nothing," he tried to reassure me.

"We should get out of here," Eddie said. I instantly wrapped my arms around Steve's waist and helped him to his feet. We started running as fast as we could to the nearest section of woods.

It wasn't easy to carry Steve through the woods but I wasn't about to let him go. He needed my help. I would carry him all the way back to Hawkins if it meant saving him. Eventually, we got to Skull Rock.

"Steve!" I gasped when his legs gave out, causing both of us to fall to our knees. I leaned him against Skull Rock and gently reached up, moving some hair out of his face.

"I'm okay," he said through gritted teeth. He leaned his head back, struggling to catch his breath.

"We need to get his wound covered," Robin stuttered.

"Okay," I said shakily. I tried to breathe calmly, my hands shaking as they hovered over the wound. "I don't. . . I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Steve whispered. He grabbed my hand, weakly squeezing it.

"Here."

I didn't move as Nancy start ripping the bottom of her shirt. She handed it to me and I started wrapping it around Steve's waist. I winced when he gasped in pain. I looked up and saw him struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Don't leave me, okay?" I gasped out. "Promise you won't leave me, Steve."

"Hey," he whispered, making me look away from his wounds, "I would never leave you, Y/N."

"Promise?" I asked, my voice shaking. He grabbed my hand, squeezing it as tightly as he could.

"I promise," Steve whispered.

"I hate to break this up," Eddie said, staring at the horizon, "but we should probably keep moving."

"Can you walk?" I asked, looking back at Steve's wounds.

"I think so," he said, not at all convincingly. He stood up but he got dizzy. I instantly wrapped my arm around him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"I got you," I whispered. Steve looked up at me with a teasing smirk.

"Don't you always?"

* * * * *

Steve's POV

The group took turns helping me walk. We were on our way to Nancy's in hopes of finding some of her guns there, but it was taking us longer than necessary. We had to stop multiple times so I could rest.

Y/N helped me the most. Eventually, I noticed that she was getting tired. I made eye contact with Eddie and then glanced at her. His eyes softened before he nodded.

"How about I take a turn with Harrington?" Eddie offered.

"It's fine," Y/N brushed him off.

"Y/N," I whispered.

"I got you," she cut me off.

"Let me take over," Eddie pushed. "You've carried this dipshit for a long time. You should probably rest."

Y/N hesitated. I could feel that she wasn't going to budge. Unless I convinced her.

"Y/N," I tried again. "Let Eddie help me for a while. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" She whispered.

"I've got him," Eddie reassured her. "Take a break, Y/L/N."

Y/N sighed as she finally gave in. She held onto me until she was sure that Eddie had me. She slowly let me go, making sure I wasn't going to fall. Eddie and I waited until Y/N started walking with Nancy and Robin.

"Hey," I whispered, "I just wanted to say thanks. For saving my ass back there."

"Shit," he laughed, "you saved your own ass. I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there."

"Ozzy?"

"You took a bite out of that bat," he clarified. "Ozzy Osbourne. Black Sabbath. You. . . He bit a bat's head off on stage. . . You know?"

"It doesn't matter," I brushed off.

"It's very metal, what you did, is all I'm saying," Eddie added.

"Thanks," I sighed.

"Henderson told me you were a badass. Insisted on the matter, in fact."

"Wait," I paused, "Henderson said that?"

"Oh yeah," he scoffed. "Shit. The kid worships you, dude. Like, you have no idea. It's kinda annoying, to be honest. I don't even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks, but I guess I got a little jealous, Steve."

He glanced at me before clearing his throat and looking back toward the girls as he continued. "I guess I couldn't accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. Rich parents. Popular. Chicks love him. Not a douche? No way, man. No way. That, like, flies in the face of all the universal. In my personal Munson Doctrine."

Eddie shook his head, slightly going back to the Eddie Munson that Dustin described. "Still super jealous, by the way."

"Okay," I laughed off. "Alright."

"Which is why I would've never jumped in that lake to save your ass. Not under any normal circumstances. Nope! Outside of D&D, I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

"Give yourself a break," I sighed. "None of this UpsideDown shit is easy to swallow."

"See?" He interrupted me by pointing at Y/N, Robin, and Nancy ahead of us. "If it wasn't for those ladies, right there, I'd still be on that boat." He looked back at me before adding, "One in particular."

"What do you. . ."

"Y/N," he clarified. "She didn't hesitate, not even long enough to breathe. The millisecond you got pulled under, she dove in after you. It may have taken the rest of us a few seconds to get our heads on straight, but not Y/N. She wasn't about to lose you."

"I can't help but be mad at her," I said, not looking away from Y/N.

"Why?"

"Like you said, she didn't think. She dove straight in," I sighed. "She followed me through the gate and was forced to fight off demobats. She could've been killed."

"You could've been killed," he shrugged.

"I know but. . ."

"Dude," Eddie laughed. "How can you not see it?"

"See what?"

"That girl," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper as he nodded toward Y/N, "is crazy about you, Harrington."

"What are you talking about?" I scoffed.

"Don't do that," Eddie sighed, rolling his eyes. "Don't pretend you don't see what's right in front of you. It's not noble or sweet or charismatic. It's just pathetic."

"What's right in front of me?" I mumbled.

Eddie stopped walking, holding me back too. He glanced at Y/N before turning toward me. He studied me before he finally figured it out.

"You really don't see it," he said under his breath. "Wow. I didn't realize you were this dense."

"Will you stop being such an ass and just tell me what bush you're beating around?"

"Y/N's in love with you, dumbass."

My first instinct was to brush it off. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the little things. My mind went back to the moment before I jumped into the lake. Then it changed to Y/N diving in after I got pulled back down.

After we fought them off, Y/N was immediately by my side. She was the first one to volunteer to help me walk through the woods. Her turn was longer than anyone else's.

"You think that she's. . . Is she really?"

"Of course," Eddie laughed. "You really didn't see it? The way you're the only one she goes to for help. The way she runs to you. The way she only asks you for advice. The way she only listens to you. The way she runs to you. It's obvious, Harrington. We all see it."

"That can't be true," I mumbled. "She never told me."

"Duh," he scoffed. I looked up at him, not bothering to hide my scold. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he started walking us down the path again. "You can't really blame her. You two have been friends since you were little, right?"

"Right."

"I can't believe she stood by you in your douchebag stage," he laughed, "but that's beside the point. The point is that you can't blame her for being hesitant to tell you how she feels. What if you didn't feel the same?"

"You guys alright?"

We both let out surprised yelps at Y/N's sudden voice. She looked at us like we had three heads.

"You okay?" She asked slowly.

"Of course!" Eddie said, trying a little too hard to sound natural.

"Um, okay," Y/N said slowly. "Here, Eddie. We're getting close. Why don't you catch up to Robin and Nancy and I'll help Steve the rest of the way?"

Eddie glanced at me before back at Y/N. "He's all yours, Y/L/N."

I ignored his knowing look as Y/N grabbed me. She wrapped her arm tightly around my waist, making sure she didn't accidentally touch my wound. I draped my arm loosely around her shoulders.

"You doing okay?" She asked under her breath.

"As okay as I can get," I tried to tease. My heart sank when I saw the look on her face. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm fine."

"The wound was deep," she mumbled. "I could see. . ."

"Stop," I interrupted her. "Don't focus on that. Focus on the fact that I'm right here. That I'm okay."

Y/N sighed as she leaned her head against my shoulder. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"You'd never lose me," I said as quickly as I could. "I'm not going anywhere."

We were quiet as we finally got to Nancy's house. Y/N helped me inside as the others jogged upstairs to search for Nancy's guns.

"Shouldn't we join the others?" I asked through the pain.

"No," Y/N said in a tone that told me she wasn't open to arguing. "I'm going to try and find a first aid kit or whatever medical supplies the Wheelers like to hoard."

Y/N led me into the bathroom, somehow able to move me across the vines without stepping on them. She helped me sit on the toilet before searching through the medicine cabinet.

"Come on," she mumbled as she struggled to find some supplies.

"Y/N," I tried to get her attention.

"There has to be something!"

"Y/N, please." I grabbed her hand before she could run out of the bathroom. I thought about my conversation with Eddie, deciding that this secret between Y/N and I has been in the dark for too long.

"I feel the same."

"What?" She asked, her voice getting caught in her throat. I pulled her to me, not stopping when she hesitated. She mumbled my name as I pulled her onto my lap.

"I feel the same," I said again.

"Steve," she whispered, "I don't understand."

"I know how you feel about me," I clarified.

"What are you. . ."

"I know how you feel about me, Y/N, and I feel the same."

"You. . ."

"I feel the same," I repeated as I put my hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in.

Y/N gasped when my lips touched hers. It took her a second before she started kissing me back. As she did, she gently cupped my face in her hands. We got lost in the kiss, not caring where we were. I broke away from her when my side was throbbing too badly.

"Are you alright?" She asked, breathing heavily from the kiss.

"The only thing that could make this moment better would be if we weren't in the UpsideDown," I chuckled, ignoring her question and focusing on her face inches from mine.

"And if we weren't in Nancy Wheeler's bathroom."

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #requested imagine

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