#so that he has to develop more content for Uncharted

[76-rafes-arm-hair-39]

Random resting thought of the day: Where do you think that Rafe, Nadine, and the Shoreline mercs slept whilst in Scotland, Madagascar, etc?

Obviously, in a bed, I can't imagine them sleeping in a catacomb 😂 But where? In a pop-up tent? In dormitories? Did they have little caravans? With little sofas adorned with cushions and blankets and books with cups of hot chocolate? A fancy hotel? THESE ARE THE LITTLE DETAILS THAT WE NEED FROM NAUGHTY DOG!!!! 😭😭😭

[dcocca]

Hi! This is the moment when I gently remind you that there are tags. And these tags say that this fic was always going to have smut in it. So, I am happy to announce that the smut has arrived! At barely 180K words. 😂

And it’s NOT skippable. It is embedded in the whole body of this chapter and it’s an important development in the narrative. I wanted it to feel slow, thought through, and important for them.

Find Chapter 27 here! 👇

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61024075/chapters/167402230

An excerpt (smut free!):

The night air was sharp against Aziraphale’s cheeks as they stepped out onto the quiet London street. The chill sent a shiver down his spine, but Crowley was already there, pulling him close, tucking him against his side as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And Aziraphale, feeling a sense of contentment, nestled there with the utmost pleasure.

He noted with delight that, even though they had left OffTopic, the spell had not been broken: the warmth, the things they had said to each other, the love—they were all still there, wrapping around them.

Aziraphale lifted his face and brushed Crowley’s jaw with his nose, and Crowley lowered his head to meet him halfway, pressing a soft kiss to the spot between his nose and cheek. Aziraphale giggled at the tingling sensation.

Crowley grinned at the sight of Aziraphale so delighted. They were both drunk on happiness and the emotions they had experienced that evening, laughing like a pair of schoolboys, without restraint.

“Feelin’ cuddly, angel?” Crowley asked, amused.

Aziraphale answered by kissing his jaw gently, then moving to a tender spot just beneath his ear and planting a lingering kiss there. “I feel more than cuddly, my dear,” he replied, unable to hide the longing in his tone. It was a bold statement for him, but for the first time in his life, he felt a warmth and affection radiating directly from his chest, and he could not contain it—he had to let it out. And there was no one he would direct that warmth and affection towards but Crowley.

Crowley swallowed. “Hell, Aziraphale,” he murmured. “Ye’re gonna kill me.”

“Oh, shush,” the bookseller replied, amused, planting another kiss under his jaw. “You are made of sterner stuff. You made that clear enough tonight.”

Crowley chuckled. “Dunno ‘bout that. I’ve never come across a ‘Ziraphale before. This is still uncharted territory for me.”

At that, Aziraphale pulled back slightly and took Crowley’s hand, intertwining their fingers and locking them together as if they were perfectly shaped for each other. “Then let’s explore together.”

Tagging @goodomensafterdark 💙❤️

[staybabblingbaby]

Chan x Youtuber (Discover Part) a1 d1

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader is an anonymous Youtuber who does English covers of various k-pop songs, including Stray Kids. Bangchan comes across one of these one night and falls in love with Reader's voice. They develop an online friendship, and Bangchan might be in love with more than just the voice.

Word Count: 962

Notes: I had a lot of fun narrating the video. I've seen it a lot in Idol novels that I read online, and it really is a fun and new perspective to use. The username may stay, it may change, i might get rid of it entirely idk. Kind of also contemplating using 'You' instead of 'person'. Idk we'll see how it goes as i work on it. Feedback would be much appreciated for this one. No editing notes rn, I'm not rlly feelin' it.

Warnings: None that I know of? It's just silly fluff idk what u want from me.

Masterlist link :D| Prev Part

It was 2am on a random Tuesday in Seoul. Bangchan lay staring at his ceiling for the nth time that month, silently cursing at his insomnia. He rolls over for the thousandth time to stare at his wall instead. His eyes drift his phone on the nightstand, and he idly wonders if he should spend some time teasing STAY on Bubble.

It’d definitely relieve the soul-crushing boredom of being unable to sleep, but he doesn’t really feel like receiving their well-intentioned scolding over his sleep schedule right now. He rolls back onto his back and heaves a tired sigh.

With resignation, he sits up and grabs his phone. He’d like to avoid being scolded, but receiving STAY’s love is always comforting. Vlogs and edits it is, then.

He hops onto YouTube with deft fingers and begins his latest STAY-binge. The thought of STAY’s reactions when he reminds them that he watches their stuff brings a smile to his face. They always freak out so cutely.

Soon enough, he’s zoned out and mindlessly scrolling through, giggling along to memes and watching vlogs with all the affection in his heart.

He runs out of content from the accounts he regularly watches pretty quickly. He’s only killed about 30 minutes, and even though his mood has improved significantly, he doesn’t quite feel up to going back to staring at his ceiling yet.

With a light heart, he descends into the familiar uncharted territory of his recommended feed. He manages to kill another hour or so before a particular video catches his eye.

[Learn Music Production With Me! | Cover Me by Stray Kids (English Cover) | EP.4]

The thumbnail features someone with brightly colored hair slumped over a desk, their face smooshed against the wood and their arms dangling limply beside them. Their features are obscured by a fabric mask, but bright blue tear-tracks are drawn on over top.

Bangchan can’t help but be amused by the image. He could definitely relate to the frustrations of learning music production. He actually felt a bit flattered and flustered that this person was using his music to learn from.

Officially intrigued, Chan clicks on the video.

It opens with a shot of the person from the thumbnail from the back. They’re sat at the same desk, which Chan can now see hosts a towering hutch with full shelves decked out in flower-shaped fairy lights. He spots a large section of SKZ albums tucked between other albums and books on the hutch’s shelves.

There’s a microphone on the desk, the boom arm pushed to the side, and a bulky set of headphone’s on the figure’s head. Despite the microphone’s distance from the person at the desk Chan can hear the furious clicking of a mouse as clear as day.

This scene plays out for a moment before the clicking suddenly stops and the person freezes. They slowly remove their headphones and sigh loudly. A very crisp [“Fuck!”] Takes him by surprise and he can’t help a soft laugh as the video pauses and begins to rewind.

[“So turns out I’m a big ol’ dumb-dumb and I’ve been doing this wrong this entire time.”] A voiceover begins to explain. The rewind quickly covers what Bagchan assumes is hours of work, and the voice over continues, [“Well, not wrong, per say, but I was definitely doing it the hard way. Wrong Equation right answer sort of situation. I.”] The voice chuckles ashamedly, [“I could have done this whole thing in a third of the time. I’m so embarrassed. Let me show you.”]

The rewind stops and the video switches to a different angle. The camera is obviously sitting on the desk this time, looking at the person from the side. The angle is much closer. The person waves awkwardly at the camera with both hands and rotates their chair to face it properly.

[“Hi all, I’m Grimm’sTeddy and this is episode 4 of me failing to learn how to produce music. We’re onto week 6 now, because I was quite seriously fighting with this program the entire time.”] A caption appears on the screen, [Shoulda watched more tutorials, buddy].

The video continues along the same vein for a while, a mix of Grimm talking and explaining their process while being unknowingly roasted by the occasional caption when they do something wrong. The video mostly shows the screen they’re working from, only switching back to the vlog-style camera when Grimm is being particularly dramatic about their struggles.

Around the 10 minute mark, Grimm discovers the feature of the program that triggered the reaction from the first clip. There’s a bit of grumbling and self-deprecating jokes, and then the video’s pace speeds up by quite a lot. Apparently the process is a lot less entertaining when it’s going smoothly.

Finally, 12 minutes in, the full cover is revealed.

Bangchan is, quite honestly, entranced.

There’s something almost desperate in the tone Grimm sings with, something raw and hurting. The cover is incredibly faithful to the original. They’d changed some words to preserve the melody across languages but were clever enough with it to preserve the meaning.

Bangchan finds himself impressed. Sure there are mistakes, and a lot of polish is missing, but the voice sticks in his head like glue. He goes to the channel’s page to find the first video in the series almost without thinking about it.

It turns out the video he’d watched was from several months ago, just after they’d released the song initially. There were only 2 videos after it, the series seemingly ending at episode 6.

Chan ends up watching the other 5 videos that night. He falls asleep with his phone on his chest at 5am, after making sure to leave a comment on each video.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hi! Can I request cursed spirit reader who has a similar demeanor to Mahito? Maybe one where she shows Choso how to do hair and makeup? :3

Haha! This is so random but I’ll never reject a nice Choso request! Big brother alert, let’s gooooo~!

Choso- Styling Perfection

Makeup and hair you say? Choso doesn’t know this stuff, due to having only brothers. He never had a sister to call his own, so girly self-care is truly uncharted waters for him

For you, Choso has always liked how you cared for his remaining little brothers and after a while, he’s developed a crush on you. A cursed spirit that had the same intriguing mania of Mahito, after Mahito disappeared. You practically replaced him but you are more approachable

Choso found you taking care of your hair one day and his fingers instinctively combing through the thick strands, amazed by how soft it is. It kinda went out of hand when you shoved your hairbrush into his hand and had him brush your hair for you

Choso is beet red as he brushes your hair. You’re just so confident and you don’t care if it makes you look any certain way… he really likes that in such a person, even a cursed spirit

“Is this how you do it?” Choso softly chimed in after moments of silence, as he pulled away the rough bristles of your hairbrush from the now smooth, combed strands as his free hand had fingers tangled in the clumps in such a careful manner, he didn’t want to pull any of your hair out with his bare hands. Your hair is so pretty, your eyeshadow-decorated eyelids and lipstick-stained plump lips are always so pretty… it’s almost angelic for a being so corrupted and evil like you

“Yes! Now, be careful when you do style it! I don’t have a lot of hairties!” You respond with a rather eerily upbeat tone, hands reaching out for your disregarded makeup bag to begin pulling out the necessary utensils to begin dolling yourself up as you had always felt cute pastel makeup in colourful eyeshadow and glittery lipstick made you feel simply adorable. Out of everybody you knew from the little Cursed Spirit group, you wanted Choso to assist you with it

And he, for sure, did help the best he could as he places down his gentle hold on your hair to turn around to meet your gorgeous face as you hand him the now blush-dusted brush for him to dab on your cheeks for you. Choso’s own face was burning red, hotter than the grandest fire as he gently places the feathery hair-bristle on your soft, silky skin to lightly dust it until the soft glow of pink marked on your features, further highlighting your beauty whilst you hummed delighted and closed your eyes

His eyes scanned over to the open contents of your small standing makeup bag where he spotted a single mascara in a vibrant aquamarine hand-held container. He didn’t know what it was but he wanted to help put it on, he wanted to further decorate you in such amazing colours to make you shine. Rather you be twisted and corrupt afterwards, you’re simply so beautiful right now that Choso can’t keep it to himself

He never suspected he’d ever be able to watch you get ready, let alone help you get ready… he is in heaven and he almost can’t speak with how relaxed and lovestruck he is…

“Can I help put on that stuff in the aquamarine container too?”

[lopposting]

Korea Game awards Game Director interview transcription <Lies of P>

Source (KR)

Hey so, I went through some Korea Game Awards stuff. It looks like there was a lot of content recorded for the event, but it doesn't really seem available online. I did find this interview with the director uploaded by a ruliweb user. It ended up being more of talk related to the industry and not all that related to LoP, but I figured I might as well share it since and I had gone through it anyway [and who knows, this could all be lost media one day!].

On LOP winning GOTY - South Korea

The Metacritic score was honestly higher than he expected

Talk about expanding the console games industry in Korea. Again, in South Korea - a leading world of PC Bangs and E-Sports, MMORPGs reign supreme! [Reading around the k-net supposedly LoP is notably one of the first major south korean developed single-player console title? I want to write about this more]

Influenced by other console, single player titles like Naughty Dog's Uncharted Series. [me: I love you, NG's The Last of Us.]

I'm pretty sure that based on his answers he will continue to spearhead the Lies of P IP

Send me an Inbox if you have a correction or see possible error/clarification needed!

[The "footage" doesn't seem available so it's a little hard for me because we can't hear the phrasing, so it's my best guess]

[VERY ROUGH TRANS]

ENG

Hello, nice to meet you, I am Choi Ji-won, general director of Lies of P [Jiwon Choi]

What games have you participated in developing so far? Asker Online, and just recently I was in charge of Lost Ark. [note: MMORPG and he did combat direction]

What do you think are the virtues of a good developer?

Above all, I think it's being clear and unwavering in direction

To what extent have I achieved compared to my goal? I think I've achieved about 80% of it.

I think the remaining 20% area

I want to at least overcome that level of fun I had, and the remaining area is one where the goal is to explore new fun

To do that, you have to put in a lot of effort, enjoy the game a lot, and talk a lot with your fellow development colleagues to achieve the fun you want

I want to get into that zone This is really honest

What advice can you give to juniors who want to become developers? Above all, you must become a gamer 'Does that fun really move you?' And do you want to give this feeling to yourself by becoming a developer?' I would like to take this opportunity to tell you once again that it is more important than anything to make an effort just to have fun

Why did you become a game developer? I've been a console game fanatic since I was young So, while enjoying famous masterpieces in console games, I also want to create a game that can provide this kind of fun I think it would be The Uncharted Series at that time I think I was able to analyze why this was fun while playing So I decided to become that kind of developer

What do you think about the Metascore rating results? [note: I'm assuming they're talking about the metacritic score, which is a critic aggregate (Lies of P currently sits at an 80)]

I'll be really honest about this too I thought it was a better score than the score I received. [Note: This is what he says, but I think what he means is "It was a better score than the one what I was expecting"] When I saw the evaluations of the metascore I realized I was only thinking about a small aspect and thought, 'I was [too] focused on the completion of just this area' But now, 'I need to think about a broader field and focus on it again.' It was that kind of experience

What is your ultimate goal as a developer?

Rather than being a developer who receives positive reviews from users, I actually want to remain as a developer who has a positive influence on other fellow developers in the field I hope to become someone who can serve as an opportunity to further improve and develop the development culture and development capabilities of our country's game industry

How do you feel when you receive positive and negative feedback?

(If you think positively) Thank you But I think we should never be satisfied with that (When receiving negative feedback) More and more, there were instances of reflection from a gamer's perspective like ‘Okay. I should have been more in his shoes.’

Any last words you would like to say? I don't think this award is ever meant for me I think this is an award given to everyone on the team I will take this as a sign to work even harder in the future We will continue to do our best to become a developer that can provide only fun and emotion

KOR

안녕하세요 반갑습니다 <> 총괄 디렉터 최지원 입니다

Q: 그동안 개발에 참여하신 게임은 ?

<애스커 온라인>, 직전엔 <로스트아크> 프로젝트를 담당했습니다

Q: 좋은 개발자의 덕목은 무엇이라고 생각하시나요?

무엇보다 뚜렷하고, 흔들리지 않는

방향성을 제시하는 것이라고 생각합니다

Q: 내 목표정에 비해 어는 정도까지 달성했나요?

약 80% 정도는 달성했다고 생각을 해요

남은 20% 영역

본인이 느꼈던 그 재미 이상을 넘어서

새로운 재미를 추구할 수 있는 영역이라고 생각을 합니다

그러려면 정말 노력도 많이 해야 되고

게임도 많이 즐겨야 되고

같은 개발 동료분들과도

원하는 재미를 정말 많이 한 방향이 되도록

대화도 많이 해야 되거든요

저는 그 영역에 도달하고 싶습니다

이게 정말 솔직한 겁니다

Q: 개발자가 되고 싶은 후배들에게 해줄 수 있는 조언은?

무엇보다 게이머가 되어야 됩니다

그 재미를 통해서 본인에게 정말 감동이 되는가?'

그리고 이 감동을 본인도 개발자가 돼서 선사하고 싶은가?'

진짜 재미만을 위해서 노력하는 게

무엇보다 중요하다는 것,

다시 한번 이 자리를 빌려서 말씀드리고 싶습니다

Q: 게임 개발자가된 계기?

저는 어렸을 적부터 콘솔 게임 덕후였습니다

그래서 콘솔 게임에서 유명한 명작들을 즐기면서

나도 꼭 이런 재미를 줄 수 있는 게임을 만들고 싶다

그때는 <언차티드 시리즈>일 것 같아요

플레이하면서 이게 왜 재밌는지를 분석을 할 수 있었던 것 같아요

그래서 그러한 개발자가 되기로 결심을 하게 됐습니다

Q: 메세타스코어 평점결과 에 대해서 어떻게 생각하시나요?

이것도 정말 솔직하게 얘기할게요

받은 점수보다는 더 나은 점수라고 생각을 했었어요

그 메타스코어에 대한 평가 내용들을 봤을 때는

납득이 가더라고요

작은 영역에서만 생각을 했었고

'그 부분에 대한 완성도만 봤었구나...'

근데 이제는 '더욱더 넓은 분야까지도 생각을 하고,

또 정진해야겠다.' 그러한 계기가 됐었습니다

Q: 궁극적인 개발자로서의 목표가 있다면?

유저들에게 좋은 호평을 받는 개발자이기보다는

현업에 있는 다른 동료 개발자들에게

긍정적인 영향을 미치는 개발자로 사실 남고 싶어요

우리나라 게임업계에 대한 개발 문화나

개발력이 더욱더 개선되고 발전하는

그러한 계기가 될 수 있는 사람이 되었으면 좋겠습니다

Q: 긍정적 & 부정적 피드백을 받을때의 기분은?

(긍정적으로 생각해주시면) 감사하죠

하지만 그것으로 만족해서는 절대 안 된다고

생각을 하고 있습니다

(부정적 피드백을 받으면) 더욱더 게이머 입장에서

'아차, 제가 더욱... 더 그분의 입장이 되어야 했었구나'라고

반성을 하는 경우도 많았었습니다

Q: 마지막으로 하고싶으신 말은?

이 상은 결코 저에게 주는 상이 아니라고 생각을 해요

팀 모든 분들에게 주어지는 상이라고 생각을 하고

앞으로도 더욱더 열심히 하라는 뜻으로 받아들이겠습니다

오직 재미와 감동만을 선사할 수 있는

그런 개발자가 되도록

계속 최선을 다하도록 노력하겠습니다

[dragon-ball-meta]

I'm both excited and nervous about this development. I'm happy to see that Iyoku intends to increase productivity of Dragon Ball content and expand further to give the franchise more exposure. I'm also confident in his commitment to maintain quality since his involvement in the last two movies has shown how much he values the spirit of the series and won't compromise it just to chase after trends(unlike a certain manga author). Not to mention that he seems to work quite well with Toriyama. I suppose that the only thing I'm nervous about is just how much "bigger" the universe is going to be for the next decade since it sounds as though that in addition to games and movies, he wants to push the original Dragon Ball story itself beyond its parameters(at least that's my interpretation). Which I'm with as long as Toriyama is on board, but as you said, this is just uncharted territory.

I definitely feel you there. It's quite exciting, but there's also the possibility that a lot could go wrong. We'll have to wait and see. But sadly, it's also clear Shueisha just wasn't cutting it when it came to how they're handling the series, so I'm glad at least something is being tried before the franchise fades into a punchline for Shonen kids to mock in comparison to Generic Destined Protagonist #24534's journey.

[jcmarchi]

Nintendo Announces Live-Action Zelda Movie

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/nintendo-announces-live-action-zelda-movie/

Nintendo Announces Live-Action Zelda Movie

Nintendo and Arad Productions Inc. have announced the start of development on a live-action Legend of Zelda movie. The movie will see Nintendo legend and Zelda creator Shigeru Miyamoto return to the role of producer following The Super Mario Bros. Movie, which was released earlier this year. He is joined in the producer role by Avi Arad, who has produced films like 2004’s Spider-Man 2, 2008’s Iron Man, and 2023’s Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. Arad has also produced a couple of video game adaptations including Uncharted in 2022 and Borderlands, which is slated for a 2024 release.

Wes Ball, who directed the Maze Runner movies as well as Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, has signed on to direct the film The movie will be co-financed by Nintendo and Sony Pictures Entertainment (with more than 50 percent being handled by Nintendo), with the theatrical distribution being handled by Sony Pictures Entertainment. 

I have asked Avi-san to produce this film with me, and we have now officially started the development of the film with Nintendo itself heavily involved in the production. It will take time until its completion, but I hope you look forward to seeing it. [2]https://t.co/2H9lzzS5Pv

— 任天堂株式会社 (@Nintendo) November 7, 2023

This announcement follows the runaway success of Nintendo and Universal’s The Super Mario Bros. Movie, which grossed more than $1.3 billion worldwide at the box office. In March, I asked Miyamoto if he had any other Nintendo franchises he’d like to see make the jump to the silver screen through a film adaptation. “You probably know that we have Nintendo Pictures now as a group,” he said. “Whenever we create games, that’s one form of content. And when we create animation, that’s another form of content. And we want to continue to expand the amount of content that we can produce. In terms of announcing or sharing anything, I try to hold off until there’s something really good and enjoyable. So, there’s probably nothing to announce in the near future, so I ask you to put all your focus on this movie currently.”

No additional information, including the release window, for the live-action Legend of Zelda movie is available at this time.

[embedded content]

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝shiny things❞

summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why word count: 2,406 tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being a bird a/n: uhh i don’t know i love the bird man

sequel “preening”

masterlist

Dating Hawks was unusual for a list of reasons. He was a pro hero so that meant he was very busy, in the public eye, and couldn’t tell you everything. Then there was the way Hawks had been raised. After a while of dating, he trusted you enough to open up and tell you about his childhood. It shed a lot of light on the things he did in your relationship. But perhaps the least expected thing was his bird-like habits.

It wasn’t unusual for people with animal-like quirks the show similar traits to said animal. Selkie and Gang Orca came to mind although they looked more like their animal counterparts than Hawks did. Perhaps that was why you didn’t expect it from him.

At first, you thought he was joking. You had been dating for a while enough to know each other well enough to start to develop feelings. Hawks flew in to meet you for a coffee date in between work. The wind-blown hair and charming smile always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look what I found.” He said, his tone of voice sounded like an excited kid. He held out his hand present the shiny blue marble. You glanced up at him wondering if he was joking but he looked happy to present this offering. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings even if you didn’t quite understand.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” You asked taking it and holding it up in the light to examine it.

“I found it on patrol.” He said. “It was shining in the light and caught my eye. Don’t worry I washed it off.” He reassured. That almost made you laugh.

“It’s pretty.” You said. That wasn’t a lie, in its own way it was pretty but you could honestly say you had never met someone over the age of ten present a marble with such excitement.

“It’s for you.” He said with a smile that melted your heart. The sentiment wasn’t lost on you even if you were trying to wrap your head around it.

“Thank you, you’re too sweet.” You told him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The next time that happened you were more prepared for it. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear, and the weather cool. The salty breeze from the ocean filled the air around you as you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend. The sun was sinking into the horizon leaving a beautiful sunset.

Hawks spotted something, his eyes widening as he let go of your hand and rushed forward. He leaned down picking up something from the ground. Brushing it off he stood and returned to your side.

“Look!” He said in an excited voice holding his open hand up to you. You smiled at the way his wings fluttered in excitement behind him.

“What is it?” You asked putting one hand underneath his as you looked. There was a small shiny green object, it almost looked like a rock.

“It’s a piece of sea glass! It’s normal glass that ends up in the ocean, it takes like fifty years of tumbling around in the water to look like this.” He said. Looking at it, it was pretty. The frosted texture was unique you realized as you picked it up. He closed your hand over it. “Keep it.” He smiled.

You smiled at him sliding the sea glass in your pocket for safekeeping. This wasn’t the last time that he gave you an odd gift with a genuine spirit. You always smiled when he presented the items with pride and excitement, his feathers puffed up.

It was a night that you were spending with Hawks at his fancy apartment when things started to make more sense. You had made him dinner and were enjoying a bottle of wine now.

Hawks wasn’t a drinker but since you met him you had gotten him to like wine. It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bottle. It always amused you the pink tint on his cheeks and how relaxed he got.

The view from Hawks balcony was nice, a perfect city skyline. The love seat there was comfy and so was your position resting against Hawks, one of his winds draped around you keeping you close and protecting you from the cold night. The candles lit around you gave off a dim glow.

You looked at your empty glass and his. As much as you didn’t want to get up you did want more wine so you would have to sacrifice your comfort for a moment.

“Let me get you more.” You said taking his glass in your hand before standing up. He made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact.

“I can get it.” He said. You leaned forward pressing a kiss against his lips, your free hand grazing his cheek.

“Let me, relax here. I’ll be right back.” You said before walking into the apartment. You entered his nice kitchen grabbing the bottle on the counter. There was enough for one glass. You looked at the full bottle on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt to open up another, you could always save the rest if you didn’t finish it.

Opening a drawer you looked for the wine opener. This one had normal utensils in it. The one below it had towels. It was the third drawer down that was odd.

It was full of random items, rocks, stray earrings, buttons, and other odds and ends. It wasn’t your usual junk drawer. All of the items had a certain shine to them. Your mind was immediately pulled to the random things Hawks had presented to you so happily.

You let out a small gasp as it all clicked. He was a bird. Well, not literally but it seemed he shared more traits with the animal than you had originally guessed. Looking at all the items you knew that he cared for them enough to keep them in his house.

A smile met your lips thinking about how excited he always was as he handed you the shiny thing he had found. It was so sweet that he gave them to you instead of keeping it for his own collection. Had he even been keeping anything for himself since he met you?

Your heart felt full as you closed the drawer and looked for the wine opener. Hawks was already so sweet and somehow this odd quirk of his added on to it.

Returning to the balcony you sat down next to him handing him his glass before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your free hand tangled in his feathers and you could feel him sigh against your lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned pulling back with pink cheeks and a content smirk.

“Nothing, I just really like you.” You smiled.

“Well, I really like you too.” He said before pulling you in for another kiss.

“So I gave her this shiny rock and she was so happy, I love the way she smiles when I give her stuff.” Hawks gushed about you to Mirko often. The rabbit hero was patient in listening to him but would often roll her eyes at how head over heels he was.

“Wait, so you’re telling me the kind of gifts you’ve been giving her are shiny rocks and marbles?” She questioned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stolen french fries from tourists to give to her.” Hawks gave her a questioning look.

“I always give her the shiny stuff I find now.” He said.

“And she hasn’t dumped you?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she must really like like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of girls like shiny things but they usually prefer bracelets, necklaces, rings, or even cars if you’re really trying to spoiler her. Maybe a designer pair of shoes or a purse.” She said thoughtfully. “Most girls would have left by now if they were given shiny debris from their boyfriend.”

Hawks stood there frozen trying to process what she was saying.

“Trust me, I get it, Hawks. The animal tendencies can be strong but you have to recognize them and adjust. Find a way to fill that urge but in a way that your partner will appreciate more.”

“I didn’t even realize it.” Hawks said in a quiet voice. “Oh no she’s probably hated all the stuff I’ve been giving her and has just been nice to me.” He groaned.

Mirko patted him on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. I nibbled on my first crushes sleeve. There are some things you’ll never forget how embarrassing they were.” She sighed, staring off in her memory.

“That’s rough.” Hawks said. “I’m just glad you told me before she got too weirded out. I really like her, I don’t want to ruin it with her.”

“That’s what friends are for to help you with your blind spots.” She explained. “And Hawks, if she stuck around this long I don’t think you’re scaring her off with shiny marbles.” She teased.

Hawks felt so embarrassed. He had no relationship experience. His childhood had not been a normal one, he didn’t go to middle school or high school. He didn’t go on awkward dates or take someone to prom. It was uncharted territory. He never even intended on dating anyone his life was too complicated then he met you and every excuse he had to date someone was out the window.

He had to make it up to you, he had to explain himself but he was trying to figure out the best way to do that. He recalled you telling him a story about earrings that you had really wanted to buy once at a boutique on vacation but you had ended up not buying them for one reason or another. He had made note of that hoping to look for one similar to what you described but hadn’t gotten around to it.

Now was finally his time, surprisingly it wasn’t that hard to find something that matched your description. He hoped it was close enough for you. Hawks texted you asking if he could come over tonight when you were home and you agreed.

After patrol, he picked up your favorite take out and headed over to your place. He landed on the balcony walking in as you told him he could. You sat on the couch wearing a cute pair of sweatpants and a sweater.

“Hey, babe.” You said standing up and walking over to him, greeting him with a kiss.

“Hey, little bird.” He said returning the kiss.

“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned.

“Your favorite.” He smiled. The two of you sat down at the couch opening up the bag of food and digging in.

“What’s the special occasion?” You asked as you finished up your food.

“I wanted to talk.” He answered, immediately he saw you face drop. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Oh.” You sighed in relief.

“Actually I wanted to apologize.” He started, his wings looked tense.

“For what?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The gifts I’ve given you, my friend pointed out that they’re weird and not something you should give your girlfriend.

“Hawks-” You tried to interrupt but he continued.

“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. I see something shiny and I take it, I’ve had a collection forever and I don’t know I never questioned it until Mirko pointed it out. I just would always get so excited when I saw stuff I kept it. When I started dating you I’d see something and I would think this is so pretty I have to share it with her, I don’t want to keep it to myself-”

“Hawks.” You said taking his hand in yours. “Don’t apologize. Look.”

He watched as you leaned to your coffee table grabbing the small box on it and setting it in between the two of you. Opening it he realized it was full of all the things he had given you.

“I’ll admit I was a little confused at first but even then I saw how happy you were and it was so cute. How could I deny or be upset about you giving me something that made you so happy.” You explained, brushing your hand over the piece of sea glass he gave you. “Eventually I figured it out, I saw the drawer at your place and I put it together. Honestly, the fact that you gave me these means far more than expensive jewelry would mean to me.”

Hawks stared at you in disbelief. How had he ever found someone as amazing as you? He fought the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. You had understood him without him ever having to explain.

“Actually, I just remembered.” You said standing up and moving to your purse by the door. You looked through it for a moment before finding what you were looking for. Sitting down you held your hand out presenting a shiny vintage key. “I saw this today at a little store I stopped at on my break. I don’t know if it will fit into your collection but-”

Before you could even finish your sentence Hawks had nearly tackled you into a kiss. His arms wrapped around you pulling you close as his wings fluttered. He pulled back looking into your eyes.

“I love you.” The words came out before he could stop them. He already felt so much for you but this had pushed it over the edge.

“Keigo, I-I love you too.” You returned not expecting anything that had just happened.

“I got you a gift, a proper gift this time.” He said reaching into his pocket. “The earrings you talked about, I hope they are close enough to the ones you wanted.”

“Keigo, they’re perfect.” You said pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

Hawks was more than just a pretty face and you had seen through that. Getting to know him, the real him, not the person the media presented or the child that had been raised into a weapon, was something you had enjoyed. Not only did you get to know the real Hawks but you had fallen deeply in love with him, bird traits, and all.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia

[hslotharrie]

To My Best Friend

summary: reader faces quarantine at Harry’s and, turns out, it was exactly what they needed to come clean. also, Anne is the superior Mum.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: completely fluff. with marriage + mentions of family? not edited... when do I ever edit

based off of this ask<3

When you wake, the sun is shining through a slightly opened window in the far left corner of your bedroom. You can hear birds chirping amongst themselves from outside, cars driving far in the distance, it's quiet at Harry's home. Peaceful.

It's been a little more than four months since you and Harry decided to bubble at the beginning of quarantine. What you expected to be a few weeks turned into a lot more, but there were no complaints. Harry has the space, is the type to crave company, and you're his best friend.

Best friend.

You roll in the soft sheets, hugging the covers for a few minutes until you inevitably force yourself to get up for the day. You're not sure what sort of expensive luxury bed set this is, but god, they are comfy. You make a mental note to ask him later.

You zone out again on the soft sounds of the birds and the pleasant cool breeze flowing in through the window. You pull your phone from the bedside table to check the time, 10:56– and the weather, sunny and 78. You consider getting in the pool later.

Harry's phone rings somewhere outside of your room, followed by some muffled mumbling from the man himself signalling that he's awake too. You wonder if he's ate yet; he's a sucker for your omelettes and you're craving one about now.

You climb out of bed,  going to the bathroom to tame your hair and brush your teeth, before heading to the kitchen to put together ingredients for the omelettes.

It's about 10 minutes before Harry appears in the kitchen, provoked by the smell. He places a hand on your lower back as a silent 'good morning!' while he stands to your side to admire your cooking. You try your best to ignore the warm feeling that his touch brings; the feeling that makes you wish for more than just a touch.

It makes you nervous, how quickly his presence has you feeling butterflies or how fast he can make you smile when you're in the darkest of moods. You've been sitting on the feelings for years, they were always there, hiding in the back of your head. The feelings that made you wish you'd shared that drink with him just for the second-hand contact to his lips.

Those are the thoughts that make you nervous. You try not to think about them when he's standing right next to you watching your every move with a wandering hand on the small of your back.

He's dressed in a colourful flannel and some shorts, you notice, much different than your fresh out of bed joggers and t-shirt. You make a mental note to change later, and you consider stealing one of his flannels (there's the thoughts again,) just to have his smell on you.

He pulls away from you to begin setting up the eating area, bringing out cups and silverware and then returning with a plate when he senses the omelette is nearly done. He stands to your left with the plate held in both hands like an excited toddler and when you flip the breakfast meal onto his plate he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead in thanks. The thoughts come rushing back; I like when you kiss me, Harry.

"D'you have any plans for today?" he quizzes, before taking a drink of his orange juice.

"Was thinking about going in the pool later," you tell him, "it seemed nice out, an' I love your pool."

"I rather like my pool too," he chuckles "I'll join you, yeah? Could go for a swim later."

When you finish eating, Harry takes the plates to wash despite your protests. You cooked, he argues, so he cleans. You glance at the time, almost 12, and decide that the time it will take to change and freshen up will be enough for your stomach to settle and therefore a swim will be safe.

Returning upstairs, you first search for a bikini and then your sunglasses, changing and adding a pair of shorts. You brush your hair, throughly this time, and tie it up to avoid contact with the chlorinated water.

Before you go back downstairs, you take a minute to look at yourself in the mirror— doing your best not to allow the thoughts to come forward. (You don't think about how your body will look to Harry, and you definitely don't allow yourself to think about what he might think about the bikini you chose. Absolutely not.)

When you return downstairs to the kitchen, the dishes are washed and on the drying rack. Grabbing two cups and straws, you fill each about half with ice and then filtered water; and carry them both out to the poolside where Harry sits contently in the sun.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry's eyes travel along your body through his sunglasses when you appear from inside of the house, wishing he could touch you. His brain flicks back to the phone call he had this morning with his Mum, how she encouraged him to make a move because she knows you're meant to be. His stomach flips thinking about it.

"Do you remember when we went to that party and you pushed that guy into the pool because he was flirting with me?" you smile, sitting down beside him and handing him one of the cold waters.

"Mm, we had to leave because he was gonna' beat me up," Harry chuckles, "I was drunk. Probably lucky he ended up in the pool."

"You were being protective! It was cute!" you defend,  rubbing his back lazily in comfort. He looks at you in a funny way, smile faltering a little before he returns his eyes back to the pool.

"M'gonna test the waters so the princess doesn't freeze," He proposes, rising from his seat when you give him a playful smack.

You rise as well, shimmying off your loose shorts and moving to sit at the side of the pool. Watching harry submerge himself first, you let your legs dangle off of the edge and into the water. It's cold, but a pleasant, enjoyable cold in the hot sun.

You sit contently for a few minutes, enjoying the water on your legs and watching harry swim back and forth. You lean back and turn your attention somewhere else, trying to avoid being caught staring.  Suddenly, though, a hand brushes up the side of one of your submerged legs, informing you of Harry's presence.

"Y'coming in?" he asks, standing now. He's tall, so your faces are about level now.

"Are you in a hurry?" He's close enough now that he's dripping cold water on your skin.

"Maybe,"

Suddenly, he's gripping your waist to lift you and pull you into the water. You squeal, grabbing his shoulders as leverage as he practically drops you into the water that feels ice cold against your warm sunny skin. He laughs loud and happy when you splash water in his direction as payback.

Soon, both of your energies mellow out. Harry's on his phone, while you're floating around in a doughnut shaped floatie. Harry snaps a photo, but you don't notice.

When it's time to get out, Harry offers to go grab the towels while you float around for a few more minutes. He's driving you crazy in the best way. Your skin still tingles where he had touched your sides to lift you into the water, and your palms burn with the memory of his bare shoulders.

When he returns, it's like his energy has changed. The sight of a shirt over his chest makes you frown momentarily, and he's light on his feet rather than the happy strides he took on his way into his home. You see him tuck his phone into his pocket as if he's been talking to someone again, and when his eyes meet yours the wide smile is hiding something else.

When you slip out of the doughnut and climb up the pool ladder, he mumbles a soft "c'mere" and wraps the towel around your shoulders. His eyes watch you for a little longer than they should've.

"Mum called again," He murmurs.

"I's she doing well? Is that who called this morning?" you question, keeping your attention on his eyes.

"Yeah, woke you up I suppose,"

"Not at all!" You defend.

He goes quiet, picking at his fingernails (a nervous habit you notice he's developed since beginning to paint his nails) and looking off to the side to avoid holding eye contact with you. This makes you nervous, he's never this way around you.

"Harry,"

"I'm sorry, 'shouldn't be such a big deal," he says, letting out an awkward laugh.

A soft smile appears on your face, taking his hands into yours to part them. Gently, you move towards him, pressing yourself wordlessly into his body and allowing his hands to wrap around your towel-covered body. It brings him comfort, and you ignore your own heart beating at the contact.

"Better?"

"A little." He admits. He loves holding you, and sure, it helps his nerves, but he's going to tell you.

His Mum's been on him since he told her you'd be staying with him, telling him “now or never, Harry!”, and he's beginning to realize it really is now or never. He doesn't know how long quarantine will keep up or how much longer you will decide to stay, and he misses you even when you're just running something as simple as a grocery trip.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows a friendship as strong as yours could work through anything, Still, there's always the possibility that things could go bad. “Get out of your head!'”Anne would say.

This type of topic between the two of you is quite common, given Harry's music and your tendency to be quite open. However, this type of topic concerning the two of you is uncharted territory.

He thinks about the story you'd brought up earlier. When you'd both went to a party together and some guy, very obviously drunker than the both of you, tried to flirt his way into your pants before Harry had pushed him into the pool himself.

The truth is, he knew you would hold your ground if you weren't interested. Actually, Harry knows from first-hand experience that you don't need protection, you can be very vocal when you need to be, and he's even seen you deck someone at the bar a few years back for touching one of your friends. You were the protector.

That's why, upon seeing Harry at such a nervous loss of words, you had hugged him. It was your own way of protecting him.

"I wasn't trying t'protect you when I pushed that guy into the pool." He states, quiet and unsure.

You only hum in reply, allowing him to finish his sentence but letting him know you heard what he said.

" 'was jealous."

What?

"What?" you pull away from him only slightly, “why?"

"I didn't want stupid—" he pauses for the name "Josh, or whatever, t'be the one to take y'home."

You give him a confused look, now that you can see his face. Not putting two and two together.

"Josh is great! I love Josh—"

"More than me?" he murmurs, and it clicks.

Oh.

"Of course not... Harry," you hesitate, watching his eyes move between your own and his jaw clench.

Is this happening?

"I wanted," his shaky hand finds your arm, sliding down to take hold of your own, equally shaky left hand to toy with your fingers.

"I wanted t'take you home. Crawl into bed with you. Whatever else." he finishes. His stomach is in butterflies by now and he feels the tight, anxiety feeling in his lungs.

It catches him completely off guard when your lips are on his.

When you try to pull away, scared you've overstepped, his mouth only follows your own and his hand rises to your jaw to hold you steady. He feels a weight lifted from his shoulders, holding you, kissing you, like this. This is what he's needed.

When you finally do pull away, it's to go inside. Harry erupts in happy laughter when you make a beeline up the stairs. Nothing happens though, it's too soon and Harry agrees, but that doesn't stop you from curling into Harry's sheets, cuddling and kissing each other while watching one of your favourite films.

Catching up on missed time.

***

The wedding reception.

How did we end up here?

"Honestly," Harry speaks loudly to the crowd of your family and friends within the dinner hall "I have two people to thank for sealing the deal."

You smile wildly, knowing exactly which story he's about to bring up. Your eyes travel through the table groups you and Harry had spent so much time planning out. When your eyes catch with Mitch's he gives you a wink.

"Anne, my beautiful Mother, thank you for not letting me coward out of finally telling my girl how I felt," he pauses, you place a hand on his knee

"And Josh—"

You can't hold back the laugh, especially when the entire room turns to face the poor, completely unsuspecting victim. Josh, face red and confused smile on his lips.

"Years ago, when I pushed you into that pool at your birthday party because— you would've killed me if I didn't run! Because you were talking to her and I got jealous!" the room is erupting in laughter.

The room is full of the most important people in your's and Harry's lives. Still though, your happy eyes are glued to Harry, working the small crowd of people as per usual and telling a story about the time of and before quarantine; of when you'd basically moved in with him and never left.

Later, when you're wrapped in warm blankets and Harry's arms, you're reflecting on your day. The guests, who you'd talked to, what you'd heard.

"Wow. I'm married." he dumbfounds.

Wow is right.

"We're married." you restate for him, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

"Wow. I'm married to my best friend.”

Giggles boil over in the dark room. Harry is astonished suddenly, pupils blown, wide grin on his face. He presses quick kisses to the side of your face and you snuggle into his side more.

"I think we win, H."

[harrywritingsbyme]

Cautious

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I decided to do a lil something with dad to be/husband!Harry and Y/n bc they're cute, sweet, and spicy...this one is also a little bit funny too. there's also a tiny hint of subby wife!Y/n in here too...Enjoy🙃

Harry refused to give you sex. Anytime you asked him for his cock, he always said no, citing that “he didn’t want to harm the baby”. When you first found out that you were pregnant, your hormones and Harry’s sex drive were through the roof. You two were not only having sex everyday, that was normal for you two; you and Harry were going at it like three sometimes four times a day now that you were carrying. You guys’ sex life had managed to skyrocket to an even higher level than it was on before the pregnancy. Harry was amazed at how your body was changing and growing with his child (he has a bit of a breeding kink) and you had a heightened sensitivity in your breasts and between your legs which made you even more needy for him. This constant sex routine so to speak, continued on for a good while too. That is, until the two of you paid a visit to your doctor for your week 20 ultrasound. That was the day everything changed; and by everything, you meant you guys’ sex life. From the moment Harry saw the developed baby and all of her prominent features, Harry went into lockdown mode. He was already extremely helpful and careful with you ever since the beginning of this pregnancy journey and even more so when he found out that you guys were having a baby girl. But now that he could actually see his little girl and not just a little dot on the screen, along with feeling her moving around in your belly, he was on a mission to do everything that was in you and your daughters best interests. Even if that meant limited or no sex.

Now you could understand taking the rough part out of the equation, but sex overall?! That was absolutely not okay for you. Yes he was being the sweetest husband and dad to be in the world, and yes you loved him immensely for that. But you were horny! In fact, him taking all of those measures to keep you and your daughter safe was a big turn on. It’s not like you were demanding for him to pound you into next month. You’d find great enjoyment in that of course, but like Harry, you wouldn’t want to put the baby at risk. All you wanted was for him to be inside of you. You even offered to put some anal action onto play from time to time. Sure he gave you his fingers and mouth, and yes they were magnificent and got the job done, but his cock just hit different. You didn’t even want to use the dildo he got for you that was a nearly exact replica to his cock. But it’s not like you could really use it anyways since you couldn’t see over your mountain of a belly. Which speaking of your mountain of a belly, you were so desperate for his cock that you even bookmarked articles online that listed the different sex positions that could accommodate your bump. 

Now your neediness for Harry’s cock was also translated into tears. Along with your horny hormones being heightened, you also had emotional hormones that were a bit out of wack too. Since you weren’t getting his cock frequently, you started to think that he wasn’t attracted to you any more. But luckily for you, Harry nipped that right in the bud. When you told him how you felt, he spent the entire night pretty much worshiping your body. He gave you everything you’d been craving for in the weeks prior. He used his mouth, fingers, and cock in the most mind-blowing ways and pleasured you for as long as you needed. And in the process of making you feel good, he still made sure that you and the baby were okay. He was able to be the adorable worry wart he is and be pleasured at the same time, and you were able to be pleasured the way you so desperately needed.

 It was absolutely amazing; and about a month ago.

You were now one week away from your 8 month mark and you were still horny. After that amazing night together, Harry went from softly dicking you down to sex lockdown. His fingers and mouth were in heavy and really the only things in rotation, and you were dying to have his cock inside of you. It’s also notable to point out that this was the first time in you guys’ relationship that Harry tried to not have sex with you. Which meant that this entire situation was uncharted territory and you were extremely ready to get back to what you were familiar with. And that would be regular sex. And you were planning on getting it by any means necessary. Even if it meant that you would be the one on your knees. 

See, you’d been trailing behind Harry all day long. After he used his mouth on you first thing this morning, you were in need for more. Even though you were thinking it, you didn’t want to just come out and say “I want sex!”. You didn’t want to ignite one of you guys’ frequent and very trivial tit for tat battles, so you just followed him around and kept as close as possible. You even pulled up a chair and cuddled up next to him as he had a zoom meeting with his team. Even though he was kind of the reason why you had as a serious ache between your thighs, you weren’t going anywhere. You continued to sit there with him for the entire duration of his meeting, keeping yourself busy on your phone until you were able to have his full attention. And once you did, you pounced; you were going to get rid of that ache. As soon as he hung up, you lifted your head up from his shoulder and you carefully slide yourself down onto the floor before moving between your legs.

“Y/n, get up off the floor!” He exclaims concernedly, leaning himself forward to help get you up from the floor. 

“No! I want your cock.” You whine, bringing your hands up to tug at the waistband of his sweats. “This is the only way I can get it since you can’t seem to understand that the baby will be perfectly fine if we have sex.” You continue on, tugging at his waistband a bit harder for him to finally lift his hips so that you can pull them down. Once he does, you’re quick to tug them down to his ankles before pulling them off and tossing them to the side. You push his legs apart and you immediately reach out to wrap your hand around his soft and hardening cock. “Just wanna make us feel good.” You explain softly, keeping your eyes locked with his as you bring your mouth in and down onto his cock. 

“Oh my- Y/n!” Harry groans, feeling your warm mouth glide down onto him. Harry hadn’t seen you on your knees let alone with his cock in your mouth in a really good while. It’s almost as if he forgot about how good it feels to simply rest on your tongue and inside of your warm mouth. After you take a good amount of him inside your mouth, you just hold him there. You suck on his hardening and girthy shaft a bit but you just hold him on your tongue. Simply having the weight of his cock was already working for you. Once you’ve just head him there for a little longer while squeezing at his thighs, you pull you mouth up from his shaft and you immediately replace your mouth with your hand. You begin tugging at his glistening shaft, keeping your eyes on his cock.  As you do this, all you can hear is little moans falling from Harry’s mouth above you. Even though he didn’t want you on your knees at all, he couldn’t deny the fact that your mouth and hands worked wonders.

“So big.” You admire through a whisper, as you push your hand down his shaft one final time before bringing your mouth back onto him. As you do though, you can’t stop yourself from rubbing up against one of his legs. Your clit was tingling and on fire and you needed to quickly rub it out. But once you pushed yourself against him and realized how good it felt, you couldn’t stop. As you pushed your mouth back and forth on his shaft and took him all the way to the back of your throat at times, you managed to simultaneously rub your center against his leg through your leggings. You weren’t able to get much of a rhythm to your movements but you could care less since it felt so good. While you were contently and very happily taking care of yourself and Harry’s cock, Harry was in absolute heaven above you. He had a hand on the back of your head and his own head was tightly tilted back against the top of the chair. Even though he had no problem forgoing his pleasure at times to ensure that you and the baby were okay, it was still nice to have you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. He hadn’t seen that sight in a good while and he was looking forward to a time where he could see it more often. What was even better than you having your mouth on him was the fact that you were practically humping his leg and trying to get yourself off in the process. And not only could he hear your muffled whimpers and moans, Harry could also feel them. As you continued to suck and gag on him, he could feel the vibrations from your moans on his cock.

“Feelin’ good down there baby?” Harry moans through a string of pants, feeling your movements against his leg and cock become more feverish. To reply, you pull your mouth up from his shaft and you rest your head on one of his thighs as you continue to more for hand and yourself against him.

“So good.” You moan dreamily, feeling yourself get closer to a release.

“Look so pretty too.” He begins, bringing his hand that was on the back of your head to your cheek. “Love seein’ my pretty and pregnant little wife on her knees f’me.” He moans as he watches you play with the head of him and lick at his shaft while continuing your movements against his leg. “Even prettier when she’s using me to get herself off. Is that pretty little pussy of yours feeling good sweetheart?” He asks softly through his continued moans, as he begins to feel the damp spot that bled right through your panties and leggings against his leg.

“Feels so good.” You whimper before bringing your mouth to the swollen head of his cock to suckle on him. Your tongue was swirling all around the sensitive edge of his swollen head and you even pushed the tip of your tongue against his slit, causing him to practically melt into his seat.

“Wanna cum with me sweetheart?” He asks shakily through a string of strained moans as he feels his own release speeding towards him.

“Mhm!” You mumble, keeping your mouth on him. To push him right into his release, you use your free hand thats resting on his thigh down between his legs to squeeze his warm and full balls in you hand. 

“Fuck! Cum with me baby!” He shouts, feeling himself falling right into his release. And as he does, so do you. You keep yourself pressed tightly against his leg as you let go. The grip you had on him with your mouth gets tighter as the wave of your release washes over you. You could feel yourself just melting away as you came. Harry could feel your juices coating his skin as he came right in your mouth. It felt so good to just let go with each other and ride out the blissful waves of your releases.

Once you’re all done swallowing every drop of his cum, you pull your mouth off of Harry’s cock and you move back off of his leg before reaching over to grab his pants and help him put them on. But he quickly brings your actions to an immediate halt. 

“You don’t have to help me with that sweetheart, let’s just get you back up and comfortable.” He directs, taking the pants from your hands and sitting them on the desk before helping you get up from the floor below him. Once you’re up, he guides you back to the seat you were once sitting in before swiftly putting his pants back on. 

“Feelin’ better lovie?” He asks sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss to one of your chubby cheeks. Before you could even think about it, you just blurt out how you were actually feeling.

“M’feeling good al all, it’s just that we’re getting real close to the due date and I want to get as much of you and your cock in as possible because once I have the baby I’ll be all stitched up and healing, during and after that we’ll be tired from taking care of a newborn, and I don’t know how I’m gonna feel and stuff afterwards so I really want you as much as possible. So stop being overprotective and let me have your cock!” You bluntly and quickly explain, feeling a little pool of tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“Don’t cry baby!” He coos softly to you, pulling up from your seat and into his lap. “M’sorry for not taking better care of you and being so over protective. Just don’t want anything to happen to you or bubs.” He explains, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“You do an amazing job at taking care of me and I love you so much for that. But we’ll be fine. And if bubs isn’t for it, she’ll just kick me like she always does.” You reassure him with a little smile spread across your face.

“I guess you’re right.” He chuckles, bringing his hand down to your swollen stomach. 

“I know.” You sigh happily, nuzzling your head down into his shoulder. “Now I think that we can agree on cockwarmimg every night, even when we have little naps during the day.” You propose.

“I can do that and anything else you want doll.” Harry readily agrees, more than happy to give you what you wanted.

“Good! Now can we go upstairs and take a nap, I’m a little tired? Being on my knees and getting up wore me out.”

“Anything for you my princess.” He chuckles.

In these next couple of weeks, Harry was going to make sure you got everything you needed…but obviously with caution of course because it was still Harry you were talking about here. 

Masterlist

[bicycle4two]

say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 4

Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader

Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname

C.1 || C.2 || C.3

Chapter Four:

Here’s the thing.

Sam always knew that he and his brother were destined for something great. And, well, he can’t say that greatness didn’t fall on them. Yeah, sure, he spent thirteen years in jail. Who hasn’t? But despite that little hiccup in his life, Sam thinks that he’s done pretty well for himself. He’s discovered a lost city or two, with and without his brother, held some artifacts that were rumored to only be from stories, and tried one of the cigars from Sully’s collection. He even has a place to call his own now, his name on the mailbox downstairs, a doorman who greets him.

Honestly, it’s all he’s ever wanted growing up. More, even. Back in Panama, all he thought he wanted, besides, well, getting out, was to find Avery’s treasure with Nathan. It was that thought that kept him going most days. The idea of finding four hundred million worth of treasure! That was the dream. He and Nathan could finally settle down, or, rather, their version of it. Because they weren’t going to have a normal life. That was never in the cards for them growing up, but it was a nice thought, not having to worry about food or a place to stay.

And Sam hasn’t had to worry about that for a long time. He felt empty after Libertalia, that his story was only just beginning while Nathan’s was coming to a close. There are still things he wants to see, to do.

Time, he realized long ago, was something that he could lose so easily and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

So he went on more adventures, climbed higher mountains, picked up little trinkets (a habit he got from his little brother, starting his own little collection) along the way to bigger, better things. (It’s just a shame that some things were destroyed along the way, like statues and buildings, but what can he say? It runs in the family.)

But tonight, after a long flight and an uncomfortable chair, all Sam wants to do is go to her and crash on her bed.

Because although Sam has a place to call home, a big apartment that’s filled with his stuff, clothes, souvenirs, a fish…it feels empty. Cold. Even if he had all the money in the world, Sam can’t shake off that feeling that he shouldn’t have too much. That in just a blink of an eye, all this could be gone. Because that has happened before—moving from place to place, packing what you can immediately get your hands on.

Sam wants riches, searches for them all over the world, but deep down he knows he doesn’t know what to do with them. That even if he dreams of more, he only knows how to live with enough.

So, he only has one pillow, a blanket. A towel and an extra, shampoo (the kind that has body soap mixed with it. 2 in 1! What a deal) and deodorant. Clothes, he knows to get the sturdy kind, the kind that won’t rip easily, that stains won’t be too obvious on. Shoes, too. He gets the ones that have good traction, that won’t chafe his feet, won’t deteriorate when wet.

The fish, Jim Hawkins—Jimmy was an attempt to liven up the place. To make it seem homey, to keep him company. But there’s only so much you can do with a fish and Sam can’t deck out Jim’s aquarium any more than he already has. He’s afraid that something would fall on the poor thing, that maybe there’s more inside Jimmy’s castle than meets the eye.

“Welcome home.”

“I’m ho…ome?” Sam drops his bag to the floor, more from being too tired to carry it than shock. He’d resigned to seeing her tomorrow, that it was too late to go over now, but there she is, curled up on his couch, toes peeking out from under a throw blanket. It’s hers. Sam recognizes it easily. It’s the same one she has thrown over her arm chair, the same chair Sam likes to lounge on when he’s found a good book to read.

“How was your trip?” She looks so cozy on his couch. Hands wrapped around an orange mug he’s never seen before, book on her lap. She doesn’t look like she going to get up and Sam can’t blame her. He sort of wants to curl up next to her, somehow squeeze his large frame in the remaining space. “Get me anything nice?”

“I, uh,” Sam’s swallows, blinking. “I’m not dreaming, right? Like, I didn’t get knocked out when I fell off the mountain?”

“You fell off what?” She’s moving to stand up, mug thankfully placed back on the table despite her haste, and Sam doesn’t want her to do that.

“No. No, don’t get up.”

She gets up anyway, blanket falling to the floor, and, oh god, she’s wearing pajamas, oranges printed all over her cotton shorts. She’s by his side in seconds, hands reaching up to his face, bringing him down to her height so she can get a better look at him.

“Ouch,” Sam says, the movement too fast for his aching body. His muscles are sore and the trip home didn’t do them any favors. But she thinks that it’s her fault, that she’s hurt him and her hands are in the air, her eyes wide with both surprise and concern. “It’s not you. It’s just…,” Sam hates to say it, makes him feel old, but, “My back. I hit the ground pretty hard.”

“I feel dumb for asking…but are you okay?” Her hands are back on him, her touch gentle and giving comfort Sam didn’t know he needed. She doesn’t seem to know what to do first, how to check for injuries, but the thought is enough, her being here is enough, makes him feel better.

“Well, I’m alive,” Sam brings up his hand to push her hair away from her face. It’s soft, slightly damp from a shower. Oh. He probably needs one of those. “Nothing a hot shower can’t fix.”

“Can you…,” she hesitates, sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and Sam bends down on reflex, damn his back, and kisses her. She relaxes, sighs, and pulls away, blushing. “Uhm, I, huh?”

“Can I…?” Sam prompts, smirking.

“Now I’m embarrassed to ask.”

“C’mon, princess, don’t leave me hanging. What is it?”

“Can you, uh, do you need help?”

“Do I need help?” Sam grins. “In the shower? Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

…

Sam mentioned it to Nathan before, when they were in Italy, trying to find their way into the Rossi Estate. When you’re locked up with no hope of being let out, it’s the little things you miss the most.  

And Sam didn’t think that there was much to miss anymore now that he was out. He can ride his motorcycle anywhere he wants, go to his own bathroom any damn time he pleases, shower, eat, sleep, drink without permission. He can call Nathan and Sully and Elena without request, without reason. He can stay indoors or go outside without a schedule. He can live. The simple joys of being alive, Sam is able to enjoy them now, in much a greater magnitude than he has ever before.

Citrus, he remembers telling Nathan, he had missed the smell of citrus. The novelty of fresh fruit. The refreshing scent, the taste. The sweetness on his tongue.

“Clementine,” Sam gasps out without thinking, his mind stuck on things he missed and maybe this last trip had gone on longer than he liked.

He’s brought back to earth when the movement stops, even when he adjusts his grip, tries to get her going again, to move her hips the way he knows they both like. He opens his eyes to look at her when she doesn’t budge and she’s frowning at him, there’s a wrinkle between her eyebrows. An angry look.

“That’s not my name,” she says and it looks like she’s going to get off of him and, goddammit, why does she keep doing that?

“What?” Sam’s confused, blood not quite in his head.

“You called me Clementine.” Her tone is upset. Hurt. Sam’s never heard her speak like this before. “Who the hell is that?”

“Shit,” Sam breathes out. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Yeah. No shit.” And there she goes, lifting herself off of him as quickly as she had sunk onto him half an hour ago. Sam lets out a grunt. His ribs are bruised yet she flattens her hands on his chest to support herself. She’s doing it on purpose. She was careful before. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to do this, but I guess I was wrong.”

Sam’s cold without her, for more reasons than one, and he knows that if he doesn’t say something, anything, now, she’s going to be out that door before he can even finish saying Hail Mary. And no amount of prayer, to any sort of god out there, is going to bring her back.

So, Sam swallows down his pride, and says, “It’s you.”

“Yeah, I heard you say that before. ‘Just you.’ How can I-I be so stu-stupid?” Her voice wavers and shit she’s crying, isn’t she? He made her cry.

“And I mean that. Hey, come here.” Sam doesn’t want to hold her too tightly, afraid to hurt her, but he has to know that she isn’t going to leave, that she’s going to stay and listen to him. She turns to look at him, tears flowing down her cheeks, nose red, lips quivering, and Sam’s heart just about breaks. He did that. He’s never felt more like an asshole. “It is just you. It has been since the start. I promise.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just waits. And Sam feels like he’s back in school, standing in front of his class, giving a presentation.

“I, uh, did I ever tell you that I was in prison once?” Sam manages to get out. He always knew he was going to have this conversation with her, knew that with how their relationship was going, he couldn’t keep her in the dark much longer, but he had hoped that he would at least be wearing pants for this.

“No,” she breathes out, wiping her nose with a tissue she got from his bedside table. Huh. Was that tissue box always there? Anyway. “But I figured.”

“The tattoos?”

“No,” she says again and by some miracle there’s a smile on her lips. It’s small, gone with a blink of an eye, but Sam knows what he saw, has all of her smiles memorized. “Someone like you just has the talent of getting into trouble.”

And Sam can’t help it. He lets out a laugh because it’s true. She knows him.

“Well, I can’t deny that. But anyway,” He clears his throat. Was talking always this hard? “When I was in prison. In Panama—that’s important. This was when I was in Panama. I was there for thirteen years and, Jesus, time moves differently there. It’s like the days can’t go by fast enough but next thing you know a year has passed by, two, three, and you’ve lost your youth because some asshole decided to get all stabby with the guard.”

The words are spilling out, like he can’t get them out of him fast enough. Because he needs her to know, to understand.

“It wasn’t my fault. Well, okay, I was there on purpose at first, but those thirteen years were like a punishment for what that asshole did. I was supposed to die there. We were escaping, we were almost there, almost free, but I got shot and I fell. The guards found me and got some ‘doctors’ to patch me up. They made sure that if I was going to die, I was going to die because I rotted in that hellhole.”

Sam can see that she’s listening, that she’s hanging onto every word so he continues, because now that he’s started, he can’t stop.

“I was only in my twenties. There was so much I wanted to see, to do. Nathan and I had plans, dreams. We were going to go all over the world. But I was stuck there. Alone. And no one knew that I was alive. It’s like I stopped existing. Sometimes.” The words are stuck. But Sam forces them out. “Sometimes I, uh, I wished it were true, that it would be better if I was just gone. That I had just died back there.”

She’s crying again and Sam wipes her tears for her, brings her closer to him. Because these tears aren’t because of him anymore, but for him. And isn’t that something? Having someone cry for you.

“You don’t realize how much you have until everything is practically ripped away from you. I didn’t have any privacy. I…I couldn’t take a leak when I needed to. You just end up thinking, cuz there really isn’t much to do but think, about what you had. How life was good. And I, I just missed everything. I missed Nathan, of course, he’s my little brother. But, it’s the small things, too. Like riding my bike into the sunset. Grass beneath my feet. A glass of cold water. And…”

“And?” She asks, eyes focused on the gunshot scars on his abdomen, fingers tracing their shape. It tickles.

“And the smell of citrus.” He makes her look at him because this is important. The most important thing. “I missed the smell of citrus. The taste. And when I was in Japan, I thought about it again. The things I missed back here, back at home. And it’s citrus—you. I missed you so much, you wouldn’t believe it. I could have called Nathan. Elena, even. To come over here but I called you because,” Sam clears his throat once more. “Because I wanted you here. I had hoped you would be here when I came back. And you were.”

She’s quiet, eyes searching. And Sam’s poured out his heart and soul and now he’s got nothing else to do but wait and see what she does with it. Is this what being honest is like? Being vulnerable? It’s torture. Sam hates it. But he can also think of worse things and that keeps him rooted in his spot, trying to keep his face as honest as he can. Years of hiding is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

“You must have been so lonely.” Is what she says, hands back on his gunshot wounds. She’s transfixed. Almost like she’s been wondering about them forever. And maybe she has. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Eh. It’s all in the past,” Sam says with a shrug. Because it is in the past. He’s made his peace with it. Mostly. Some things are harder to shake off than others but he’s okay now. He’s built from strong stuff, a sturdy breed. “But, y’know. You’re, uh, killing me here.”

“Killing you?”

“Cuz I don’t know what you’re going to do,” Sam admits. It’s all truth from here on out, huh? “I can’t read you right now. Are you gonna leave? Punch me in the face? Report me? Please don’t report me. I’d really hate to go back to jail. Nathan would kill me. And I still have a few years left to go, y’know?”

She smiles and Sam realizes that he was rambling. He takes a breath, feels himself calm down. Damn. He needs a cigarette. Maybe two. Are his hands shaking? They’re definitely shaking.

“I think you have more than a ‘few years,’” she says, fingers tracing scars. Sam twitches from her touch. Is this what it feels like when he touches her back? “Especially if you stop smoking.”

“I’ve heard it all before.”

“You should start listening.”

“Ah. Someday.” Sam takes her hand in his, mostly to stop her stop her from tickling him, but also to bring them back on topic. Because she still hasn’t said anything. Nothing to give him an idea where they go from here, if there is somewhere to go from here. “So?”

“So…” She leans close, talks in a whisper, like if she speaks any louder, something might shift, break this bubble that they’re in. “So, you have to tell me what you want, Sam.” It’s an echo of what he said to her months ago, a vulnerable, fragile moment just like this. “So I know what to give you.”

But this time is different because she’s always been more generous than him, always been willing to give.

And Sam’s always been someone to take what he wants and he’ll be damned if this time is any different.

“It would be nice if you stayed.”

“Stay? I can do that.”

...

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

...

Sam’s apartment was inspired by @missdictatorme​ ‘s post

[nyarumi-nyan]

For both Satien and V'reeah.

What are their respective ambitions - if they have one (or more)?

Does Satien aspire to lead his Free Company to greatness and fame? Perhaps by achieving great feats, such as slaying great beasts or fighting off a horde of bandits? Or does he have more personal ambitions around self-improvement and the development of his skills?

Does V'reeah wish to live a life of ease and sensual delights? Or does he yearn for the greatest adventure? Exploring uncharted jungles in the New World or discovering hidden treasures deep under the desert that will earn him lasting fame?

Hewwo again ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ ♡

First of all sorry for the late response! Let's not waste anymore time and see what the lad's think, right?

As usual, I would start with Satien~

For him it's actually a mixture of both! From his former jobs he knows that connections and a good reputation are very important, it can open the one or another door, which would have otherwise stay closed. Yet being as socially distanced and secluded as Satien can be, it's quite a struggle for him to build up those connections. That caused him to use the skills at his disposal - his fighting abilities, quick reflexes and ability to adjust very quickly. Despite being physically on a weaker side this particular young man knows how to work around the troubles he faced, so building up a good reputation through hunting great beasts and being very dependable as for example bodyguard was his way to go.

Satien is quite the perfectionist and very harsh on himself if he does mistakes, he is extremely strict with himself, to a point where one might say he sometimes steps onto his own tail and is constantly trying to improve his skills - to keep the people he cares about safe and be able to keep up the promise he gave to his childhood friend.

On the other side Satien is also a very curious person and constantly yearning for knowledge, in that manner he is literally soaking up all the information he can get, which ends in him getting new ideas for working around his weaknesses.

Now let's see what V'reeah has to share in this regard!

I think child V'reeah would have had a much easier time to answe this question then his adult self, why you might ask? Because this guys spirit used to be brilliant and bright, filled with adoration and curiosity for the world, so open minded and interested. Till the Garlean Invasion happened in which his life was turned upside down, life lost this certain spark and he tried to fill this gap somehow. Needless to say it wasn't easy for him to get out of there, to find back to his former self which was so curious for the world and all the wonders it could offer!

In many ways I think V'reeah yearns for adventure, to see the world with his own eyes and witness the true beauty of it. To prove himself and his skills and explore to his hearts content. Since he is actually rather skilled and a very good leader IF he gets into the right headpace.

He has a tendency to be somewhat lazy, risky and rather reckless if he gets bored and doesn't have to pay attention. Though an easy and simple life isn't something for him, he does enjoy the turbulent currents the life has to offer to him and generally faces those challenges rather well!

Thank you for the ask @mimble-sparklepudding ♡

[moonlights-inkwell]

Why Don’t You Just Tell Them All to Fuck Off Love, And Be Mine

Jaskier x Reader  

Word Count: 5,670

Summary: You and Jaskier partake in a game of pretend, with some unexpected consequences.  

AN: The sequel to Oh Can’t You Hear The Scratching that no one asked for. Oops.  

Warnings: Smut. Oral (female receiving). Dirty Talk. Feelings.  

“You know,” Jaskier says lightly, cutting through the silence of the empty tavern, making you look up to meet his eyes. “You wore that dress the first night I met you.”  

You had almost forgotten Jaskier was still in the tavern. He was being strangely quiet before speaking up, so quiet you could have sworn he had gone home when the drinkers had, yet there he is. Sat there, still holding his Lute on his knee and watching you like a hawk. He’s taken to performing on nights when you work. Locals love him, bards seldom come through your village, and those who do don’t stay for long, so Jaskier's songs have been well received, even if your employer has been shooting your lover death glares every night he has performed. You don’t know if he recalls that it was Jaskier that swept you out of your life in the village so long ago, or if he’s just jealous of how you allow Jaskier affection so freely, but the older man scowls and jabs and jibes, and with him going through the coins earned tonight upstairs, there has been silence. Just you and the rag and a silent Jaskier. 

It’s true though, you did wear this dress the first night you met him. It’s a white and wine-coloured affair, pretty enough to flatter your frame but easy enough to move in during your hours working. It’s nice, flares out when you turn too quickly and dips to a respectable if a little coquettish square neckline that makes your chest more obvious. The dress is usually enough to encourage men to be more generous with their coin without hearing any comments about your being some sort of whore, and your hands leave the rag you had been using to clean to smooth the fabric about your hips. You hadn’t paid that much mind when you tugged it on this morning, but under his watchful eyes right now, you flush as though it had been deliberate. Clothing has never been something you pay much mind to but, with how Jaskier is eyeing you, you can tell that he has paid attention to it, and you realise something you hadn’t noticed earlier. He too is wearing the exact same thing he wore the night the two of you met, deep violet and sky-blue doublet and trousers, pretty and attention grabbing- but somewhat toned down compared to his usual garb.

“it was clean.” You say shyly, tucking a few stray curls behind your ear to hear him chuckle quietly.  

“It’s beautiful. You're beautiful.” Jaskier says things like that as if they’re obvious, unintentionally making you feel foolish for any insecurity. A pathetic laugh comes from you and he tilts his head like a pup, the island of the bar between the two of you makes you feel safe; he'd never hurt you, that much you can stand your life on, but the distance between you keeps you from doing something foolish. Like kissing him.  

He’s been distant since the first night he returned to you, never letting his touch linger longer than would be considered chaste, his kisses never turning passionate, never finding his usual respite between your thighs as he once did. He sleeps beside you, presses kisses to the space beneath the corner of your lips, still sings and leans into you but doesn’t... touch as he once did. It’s as though you've fallen into some sort of time warp to before the first time you were intimate, when he was so concerned about making you uncomfortable that progressing seldom seemed like an option at all. You have no clue how to fix this rift that has developed, unsure if this distance is simply because of the time you spent apart or because he’s no longer interested in you as you’re interested in him.

“It’s just a dress.”  

“It’s a dress that makes you look beautiful, Little Miss.” The bard insists, settling his Lute down on the newly cleaned surface of the table before walking around it to approach you. Be it nerves or something more embarrassing than that, you turn from him to continue your cleaning. “...The moment I saw you wearing it, I knew I’d laid my eyes on the most divine creature the lands have ever known.”  

“The moment you saw me you had a woman hanging off each arm.” You retort. It’s intended to be playful, but comes out colder than expected, and you cringe at the sound of your own voice. Petty. Absolutely fucking petty, because you know as well as him that once you smiled his way and brushed past him to serve drinks to a group of patrons his lady-friends were gone, and Jaskier had sat at the bar and spent the night talking to you as if you were the only person in the world. You aren’t jealous, truly you aren't, the person your Dandelion had been before you had even known him has never been your concern, and now you sound like an envious adolescent. It’s enough to make your flesh crawl with shame. Were you paying more attention to anything but your own words you might have heard Jaskier say your name firmly, but no, you remain in your own head until your stomach is pressed gently against the counter, kept in place by his warm, firm body behind you. “Jask?” Stupid question. Who else would it be?  

“I thought you were the most beautiful woman I could ever lay eyes on.” He breathes into your ear, sending shivers down your back. “A muse, a godsend, beautiful and intoxicating and...” His voice trails away to nothing at all while his hands rest on your hips. “Gods above and below, Missy. The sight of you alone had me willing to spend a whole night ignoring everyone else, content to spend my night obsessed with the Beauty before me and fisting at my cock until i slept to the thought of you rather than try to find someone else to spend my night with.” His voice is little more than a growl, and breathing is growing harder with every honeyed word that drips from his lips. “You, beautiful you, who didn’t care about my songs or my reputation- just so kind and perfect and fucking beautiful.” Cold hands slide upward from your hips to rest in the dips of your waist. “So perfect I asked you to come with me. So perfect I feared telling you how I felt. Skilled with a sword and with your tongue and so much better than I will ever deserve.”  

“Julian.” You start, but no other words will follow his real name. You could worry that he's going to do something foolish, or give in and push his hands up to your breasts, but instead you simply sigh and relax into his touch. His lips press to the expanse of your throat and you feel him smile against your skin.  

“Even before I asked you to be mine, I wanted you. Needed you. Came with my fist in my mouth to the thought of you so I wouldn’t wake you. So, do not question when I tell you how I feel about you.” His growl is enough to send a rush of heat to your cunt with each word, and a painful sort of warmth to your heart. “Even without being with you, my heart has been yours since the moment I met you.”  

Logical thought dies an honourless death at the suggestion of Jaskier's want for you. Weeks of nothing at all and he decides that he ought to break that run by informing you that the first night he had even met you he had worked himself to climax to the thought of you. That the thought of you alone was enough to have him spilling onto his hand even before he had so much as kissed you. You swear you could choke at the thought, but there’s something more you want to choke on. Still, he pulls back from you, the world is off kilter and you swear you’re going to fall to your knees until you turn about to press your back to the counter, it takes less than a second for him to all but throw himself onto you- mouth over yours, tongue dipping into your mouth as though he's some adventurer trying to map out uncharted land.  

Eyes shut, his mouth on yours, you feel the tavern around you fall away, the wind gusting through your hair and along your décolletage. There is no tavern, no employer, no cleaning, no childhood home that will almost definitely be cold as death by the time you get home. None of that exists, none of it matters at all. All that exists is his mouth, his tongue, how he manages to somehow be everywhere and nowhere at once, intoxicating and intangible. You could be anywhere, everywhere, with your eyes clamped shut as they are. With no effort at all, you could imagine yourself anywhere, the hidden spot behind a curtain while a ball happens less than a foot away from you, the sandy alcove of some far-off beach, but the place your mind settles on is somewhere you don’t know at all, making you fill in the gaps to create something out of your own memories. Oak coloured, and warm, furnished all with deeply coloured leather, books and instruments, like Oxenfurt, but cast half in shadows by flickering lights and scented like smoke and molasses, like Yen's home. In spite of all of that, or maybe because, it feels like home: especially when Jaskier's lips dip down from your lips to the corner of your mouth once more to kiss at the space he calls Your Kiss.  

Lettenhove, your mind supplies the name for the place it has created, faster than you can remember where you know it from. Jaskier's home.  

He’s mentioned it to you once, maybe twice, in all the years you’ve known him, only ever to complain and insist how he hated it and would never return, but here you are, creating it in your mind. It seems only right, that he has kissed you in your childhood home that you can at least imagine his. It feels wrong though, even if the thought remains, like a sick secret.  

“Darling?” He asks softly, drawing your attention back to him.  

“Yes?” You ask gently while his fingers trace circles into your waist.  

“You look sad, Dear Heart. I know I’ve been distant but please tell me that look is not disappointment as I assume.”  

“No, no. Just thinking.”  

“A dangerous past-time.” Jaskier says solemnly with a shake of his head which you ignore.  

“Why have you been so distant of late?”  

“I. I've had a deal to think about since. Well, since.”  

“Since the mountain.” You finish the sentence for him. He nods and you nod in return. He hasn’t told you what happened, except that Geralt and himself had parted ways on less than amicable terms. Why that has meant the two of you haven’t been intimate is beyond you though, and you feel awkward to ask such a question.  

“I didn’t want to do anything while my mind was not entirely focused on you, My Muse.” He admits, tracing fingers across the details of your face. “I spent months without you, trying to remember just how your skin turns pink as you climax, the delicate arch of your back, the contortion of your lips. Months of cumming to a memory, and months of cumming to fantasies of you before I had you. I wanted the real thing, and to appreciate it. And that meant not being distracted.”

“I could have put my mouth on you. That always relaxed you.”  

“A sweet offer, truly. Probably would have taken you up on it too.” He admits, “But I want to pay attention to you.” Traitors that the mind and mouth are, you can’t find a single word to say, but your lips turn up in a subtle smirk and you pull away from him, slipping from his grasp.  

“Darling-" he argues at your sudden movement, but you press your fingers to his lips with a soft shushing sound.  

“Play a game with me a while, Dandy?” You ask intently, which catches him off guard, his hand wrapping around your wrist. Pet names are his forte, wordplay his bread and butter, so it doesn’t take a hair out of you when he calls you by one, but you use them fairly infrequently and they always have him blinking like a startled doe.  

“Name the game.”  

“First impressions.”  

“Can’t pretend I know that one, Dear Heart. If it’s anything like Gwent I can’t see my being any good either.” He chuckles and you pull back from him with a laugh of your own.  

“Not like Gwent. More of a playing pretend sort of game.” You clarify, though saying it makes you feel childish. “We... we pretend this is the first time we have met.” He smiles at that, head tilting to the side.  

“A pretend game.” He repeats, smile growing as he mulls over the idea. “I like it.”  

“I’m glad.”  

“Are there any rules to this game?” He asks and you blink. Rules had not even entered your mind, but he was right. A game should have rules.  

“...We can’t acknowledge anything we’ve been through.” You say easily and he nods. “And we can do whatever we wish we could have done when we first met.”  

“Sounds good to me. But one thing before we start?” He asks gently, leaning in and loosening your hair and pressing a kiss to the crook of your neck. “Perfect. Now I can pretend not to have known you.”

“I... think we ought wait for Kacper to leave for the night.” You whisper meekly, and though Jaskier lets out a pained little groan he nods slowly, pulling your hand to his lips to kiss the heel of your palm.  

“Fine. Can’t have that vile little man watching as I have my way with you.” That makes you choke, staring at him, wide eyed and gaping like a fish out of water while he smiles down at you like he’s simply commented on the weather.

“You. You say that like I would have let you- “ You falter and snap out a quiet, “That vile little man is the reason we can afford food and clothes!”  

“Little Miss, please.” He interrupts you flippantly before bringing his lips down on your own once more, albeit only for a second or so. “I have eyes. I’ve seen how the bastard looks at you. I’ve seen how every bastard looks at you.” You dont know what he means. Kacper, yes, the man is uncomfortable and not someone you want to spend any time about, but everyone? He’s a fool, and a paranoid one ay that.  

“Be that as it may!” You say, hoping he doesn’t realise that you’ve essentially agreed with him. “You’re acting as ifi would have let you bed me having known me less than a night.”  

“We'll be playing at having just met, not completely forgetting everything. And besides, you said we could do anything we wished we had when we first met, no?”  

“I. I did.”  

“And, from the moment I met you, I’ve wanted to taste you. And I have every intention of creating a first meeting between us where I was not such a coward as to not even attempt it.”  

“I never thought you a coward, Jaskier.” You argue but he shakes his head.  

“I know that, Dear Heart, and I wouldn’t change our time together. But it’s just a game of pretend.”  

“Just a game of pretend.” You agree.  

...

“I’ll be off now, Missy.” Kacper says tiredly, holding onto the door for purchase. “No bard?”

“He's home and asleep by now.”

“You should go home yourself. I can walk you if you-"  

“No, no. I'll finish cleaning, it oughtn't take too long. Go rest.” You reply easily, pushing the hair that’s escaped your bun away from your eyes. “I'll be fine. I’m a big girl. I can cope.”  

“You can stay in my house if you want to avoid the walk.” He says insistently. Your flesh crawls at his lecherous smile but you fake a smile all the same.  

“I’ll be fine, Kacper. But thank you. Sleep well." The response is sharp and firm, and the older man ducks his head in a suddenly sober nod. “Good Night.”  

“Goodnight Child.”  

Child. The looks he gives you should not be given to a child.

The tavern is empty, and you wipe at the counter in front of you out of boredom until you hear it. The click of the latch lifting followed by the soft squeal that tells you the door is opening. Your eyes stay focused on the wet surface. In this pretence of a night too long ago, you consider pretending to serve drinks to patrons that don't exist, but decide that to be a step too far and instead drop the rag to toy with your hair, leaning against the counter as if watching people that are no longer there.  

Try hard enough, and you can make out the people who had been there that night; the table of drunken older men playing Gwent who had always been especially generous in tipping you in the hopes that you might stay a while and bring luck with a smile, your own friends gathered about a table and shouting old pet names to lure you back to their table with ale, the gaggle of older women cawing and cursing about how wrong it is for a girl of your age to be working in a pub, tempting their husbands and sons. It’s familiar and alien and nostalgic all at once, making your heart ache. It was like that not four hours before, and you hadn’t had any such feelings then, but now that it is empty it feels like watching ghosts lingering at empty tables, phantoms sat in empty chairs.  

“Is it always so busy?” A voice asks from beside you, making you let out a squeak of surprise. You take in the bard as if you’ve ne’er seen him before, and it’s strange. Gods, he’s beautiful, that you already knew, but the way he’s swept his hair to one side has you convinced he’s testing your patience on purpose. He deliberately loosened your hair so you looked closer to how you had, but his hair is swept to the other side entirely. Bastard. You know he’s done it to see if you will immediately try and sort it out. You’re tempted.  

“Oh? It’s early in the morning on Freya's day at a tavern. It’s always busy.” You’re surprised how level your voice is, tinged with sarcasm. “You aren’t from here.”  

“Beautiful and Observant. Are all women in this town like you?” He smirks and leans on his elbow, not realising how wet the counter was until it slides along the surface, making you cackle unexpectedly.  

“Only in that lines like those won’t work on them, stranger.” You struggle out between laughs. “Ale? Wine? Food?”  

“Wine, please.” He grumbles out, pushing himself off of the counter. Any mortal man would be ashamed of having almost knocked out their front teeth on the bar, but not the bard, his lips turn up in a smirk. “And the name of the radiant being in front of me.”  

“Wine it is, Stranger.”  

“Not a stranger. Stranger has some awful implications, Pretty Thing, and a stranger is only a stranger when you know not their name.” A pale, calloused hand is thrust towards you. “Dandelion. Well, Jaskier, famed bard. Surely you've heard of me.” His voice is overcome with confidence, and you can’t help but lean on the driest part of the counter to observe him closely before breathing out your name, which he repeats.  

“That’s my name.” You say simply, leaning back to seek out a bottle of wine and pouring out a glass for the bard in front of him. “And I can’t pretend I know who you are, Bard. But if you’re famed then I presume that you can pay for your drinks.”

His face falls at that, and he begins to ooh and awe, looking through his pockets which you already know to be empty.  

“Now, Angel of the Ale, famed doesn’t necessarily mean rich-"  

“And, Bard, pretty eyes and notoriety doesn’t necessarily mean you'll get a free drink from me.” Your hand covers the brim of the glass and begin to slide it backwards toward you. “This is an establishment, not a charity.”  

“Now, Missy. Let us not be too hasty.” He argues, with a small smile. “surely a song is enough payment for a single glass of wine?” This elicits an unamused sigh from you, and you lift your hand from the cup.  

“Fine, Bard. Have it. But not a word of this to anyone. The owner will have my head if he finds out.”  

“No song, Missy?” He asks and you laugh and shake your head.  

“No, no. I’m. I’m hardly one for a song. You would just be wasting a song.”  

“A shame." Jaskier drawls out, taking a sip of wine before settling you with a smile that is just on the right side of leering. “I like to believe my songs are good enough even for those who don't know much of music. I hear I have a very clever mouth, and a talented tongue."  

He has a bastard of a tongue. The sort that has you flushing without obscene words, and with them? Oh, Melitele's tits you feel like you'll fall apart. The shock written across your face is true, and he chuckles like it’s a funny joke between just you two. It is, you suppose, or would be, were it not for the vile looks that your employer sends your way when he thinks your eyes away from his.

“Excuse me-?”  

“Come, Pretty Thing, play at a role that suits you. Shocked virgin might be believable at your age were you not the most beautiful woman I could ever lay eyes upon.” Jaskier says dismissively, eyes unblinking and following you as you escape from behind the bar. It’s easy to feel like prey under his watchful gaze.  

“Not that my sexual activity is any of your business, but I am.” You respond, shakily; watching as Jaskier saunters to you, holding his chalice in one hand. “A. A virgin, I mean.” You all but whisper the last sentence, and he grins; terrible and beautiful, all teeth and gums, and he reminds you of the wolves that lived in the woods during your childhood. But then he slinks closer still, the comparison between Jaskier and wolves are not quite right. No. Geralt, wherever in the world he is, is a wolf; built to survive hardship. Close enough to resemble a person who could be kept, but far too large and dangerous for that. No. Jaskier is no wolf.  

Jaskier is a fox. Slim and small and ready to rip out your throat. Easily mistaken for a pet, even willing to play at the role, but as soon as you stop eyeing him, he returns to a state that is closer to feral than kept. You feel like a chick, eyed like a feast, waiting for him to just. Strike. And he does, just not in the way you expected- he cups your cheek gently and swipes his thumb across your cheek.  

“Then everyone in this village must be blind, if they aren’t willing to fight to the death to Kiss you, never mind bed you.” His voice is smoke and molasses and you feel like you could drown on dry land.  

“They’ve wanted to.”  

“But you haven’t?”  

“Never met someone who I had any interest in.”  

“Is your... employer here?”  

“N-no.”  

“Then, at the risk of pushing, darling-maid, I’d rather show you what pleasures the flesh can hold.”

“Push. Please.”  

.....

Games of pretend as an adult are much different than they were when you were a child. As a child you toyed at being a princess, a dragon, a knight; now, you’re pretending not to know the love of your life as he buries his face between your thighs, shoved over a table that you cleaned while his clever tongue works it’s way inside of you from behind.  

The wood under you is so, so cold, but his mouth is intoxicatingly warm. Having his mouth on you is nothing new, not at all, but it has you feeling drunk: like having gulped down a tavern's worth of wine, giddy and all appendages tingling. It’s right and comfortable and new all at once. This position especially, face down on a table with him down on his knees before you, the Bard insists on seeing your face- be it so he can kiss you or see the minute changes in your face that tell him that you’re close, but tonight all you can see is the floor and not the mop of brunet locks and wide, blue eyes. The change is fine, welcome, but not enjoyed as much as the alternative.  

He’s made a romantic out of you, you don’t know if you should like or despise that fact. Women in the pub ask often about your musical lover and his talented tongue and fine fingers, asking if the length of them extends to other more personal parts of his anatomy, which you always laugh off. Small villages such as this thrive on gossip and you couldn’t bear it were your intimate goings on to become the talk of the town, but really, you’ve other reasons to be silent on the matter. How do you explain to someone that it’s not about the fingers that crook within you as it is the fact he always knows exactly where to do so? Could you ever find the words to describe that talented though his tongue may be, it’s the fact that you feel him use it to trace the words I love you against your most personal flesh, as he is right now? Can there be a means of saying that large as your lover's cock might be, and that he is well aware how to use it and that he uses it well, your pleasure comes more from the softness in storm-coloured eyes that bore deep into your soul all while that thick length fills you to the point of no return? Never mind a romantic, he's made some poet out of you. You never knew poetry and syphilis were transmitted the same way but you'd rather the former than the latter.

Missing his eyes on you, you whimper and reach back for his hair only to have it pinned to the table beneath you. With a long lick from your clit down to your entrance Jaskier pulls back, only to stare at your sex while panting- the warm air passing along your soaked cunt and making you quake .  

“I was right, Pretty Thing. People should fight to the death to Kiss you. Especially kiss these lips you so cruelly hide.” He sounds as drunk as you feel, words slurring over themselves.  

“Bard. Bard please.” You whine, digging your nails into the table. There's a breathless chuckle behind you, followed by a wet kiss to the meat of your thigh, where leg meets arse.  

“Do you want something, Angel of the Ale?” He chuckles, nipping at the skin.  

“Julian~” You whine loudly and Jaskier lets out a whisper of something that sounds suspiciously like finally, followed by a sharp swat to your cunt, wet slap echoing through the empty air. You'll never be able to work comfortably again, instead you'll be haunted by the memory of Jaskier's most triumphant performance to date: being able to bring you to the brink of orgasm without talking. No compliments, no whispered coos of Little Miss or Dear Heart to encourage you. Just his tongue.  

“So much for your game of pretend, Little Miss.” Jaskier sighs, but there's nothing but amusement in his voice. “I thought we were strangers?”  

“Changed my mind.” You choke out while his fingers spread the lips of your entrance wide open. “If I wanted to fuck a stranger, I would. I want my Buttercup to make love to me.”  

“Make love to you, eh?” Words fan across wet flesh and you could swear you have reached nirvana.  

“I want the love of my life to stop playing silly buggers and fuck me until I sob, yes.”  

He moans at that, weak and wanton as he bucks his hips into your calf, the proof of his want dragged against your skin like a dog rutting. Ever since he called you that in Oxenfurt, it’s been a secret sort of weapon for you. Losing an argument? Tell him he’s the love of your life. See him glaring across the tavern at a man whose eyes have been on you a second too long? Love of your life. It might be cruel were it not true.  

“Gods, Dear Heart, you're a cruel mistress.” You feel him smile as he bucks against you once more, thick and hard under layers of fabric. “Play pretend, Jaskier. Make love to me, Jaskier. You're the love of my life, Jaskier. What next? I simply won’t rest until your cock is in my mouth, Jaskier? You're going to be the death of me.” He smiles, you can feel soft lips as he kisses up from beneath the crease of your arse to the thickest point. “I’m half convinced you’re trying to kill me.”  

“Never.” Comes the earnest reply. “I can hardly spend forever with you if you’re dead.”  

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re half convinced you’ve gone too far but a thought creeps unbidden into your mind to fill the gaps. Something he said in Oxenfurt, which slips from your mouth with honest ease.  

“I'd marry you this second if I could.”  

Eyes slip closed as if waiting for some inevitable fallout, but none comes. Instead, you’re rolled onto your back and tugged up with such an intensity you worry the table might capsize.  

“... A hell of a place to propose, Little Miss.” He returns your own words back to you, eyes soft while his hand comes up to frame your face, fingers ghosting across the scar on your eye. The wound that kept you apart so long. The other rests on the crook of your neck, where if you cast your mind back far enough, you recall a wound being once, from some sort of vampire. He’s held your life inside you with trembling hands more often than you would like to think about, and you reach up to rest a hand over the space on his chemise where you know his heart ought be. It thunders along at a pace too fast for you to know it as you normally would, reminds you of how your own feels after fighting, fucking, but your own heart is beating slowly, pumping along at a relaxed pace under the touch of his fingers.  

“Well. I’m no poet.”  

“No. No, you aren’t.” He agrees. “I. I recall someone else saying that once before too.”  

“Well.” You reply melodiously, fingers straying from the fabric to the thatch of hair across his chest. Downy, dark hair, always keeping you a layer away from him- thick enough to keep you from seeing the flesh beneath but fine enough to feel his warmth seeping through. “He never got about to proposing, so I assumed I could take the line for myself.”  

“Excuse you, Dear Heart!” He sounds scandalized, like some rich old bat who asked for petunias and was gifted peonies by mistake. “I think you will find one of us refused to propose in his old place of education and spent every day afterwards trying to earn coin enough to buy you a proper ring, and as soon as I did you near died- oh. Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say that.”  

“You. You bought me a ring?” You ask incredulously. It doesn’t sound real. Jaskier bought a ring. For you.  

“Of course.”

“You. You, Jaskier, bought me a ring?” You ask again, mind unable to fully understand what it is he's said.  

“I told you I wanted to marry you!” He replies sharply, eyes narrowed a little as if anticipating a fight about it, but all you can do is grin up at him.  

“You want to marry me.”  

“I do.” He confirms, softening from the annoyance as easily as he hardened into it. “Not where I wanted to propose-"  

“Then don’t. Not here.” You insist. “Melitele's tits, I like to think I'm quite free and easy about these sorts of things but I’d rather you not propose in the tavern I work in.”  

“Good. Especially as I don’t have the ring to hand.”  

“As long as you plan on marrying me, I don’t mind when it happens.”  

You mean it too, but he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss you softly on the tip of your nose.  

“You commandeer my proposal, destroy the element of surprise, make me tell you my plans. What am I to do with you?”  

“Keep me forever?” You prompt and he smiles and kisses you gently, hands sliding down to your hips, tugging your skirts up once more to eye your quim. “Jaskier?”  

“I need to get you home right now.” He whispers softly, eyes moving from your sex to your eyes. “So that I can make up for lost time.”  

“...Why not start here?”  

“It’s hardly romantic after admitting I want to marry you.”

“Bath and Bed?” You offer but he chuckles.  

“I think some things may need to go in the middle and the end.”

[liam-93-productions]

Note: This article is paid content on Billboard, but due to its relevance in promoting Liam’s work with The LP Shows we decided to share it. 

Liam Payne and his manager Steve Finan O’Connor from Kin Partners knew they needed to stay connected with fans when COVID-19 shut down the touring business, but how? There were dozens of different paths to follow with social media tools, video-conferencing technologies and paid streaming platforms available, but it was all uncharted territory. After surveying his options the former One Direction singer and his manager settled on an unconventional, but ultimately successful strategy. 

“We just decided to give it all a go and see where it led us”, jokes Finan O’Connor. Payne built his strategy around Twitter, YouTube and Instagram - where he has more than 100 million combined followers - but he has also turned to video-conferencing platform Zoom at the beginning of the pandemic to host small online get togethers with fans who contributed to his preferred charities. 

At the recommendation of business manager Alan McEvoy, Payne selected Veeps, the streaming platform launched by brothers Benji Madden and Joel Madden from the multi-platinum punk and rock group Good Charlotte. 

Benji tells Billboard he had seen artists on the platform use social media to drive traffic to their shows, but had never seen a team experiment with different platforms in real time and so quickly hone in on converting fans into online ticket  buyers. For Payne, this meant identifying his most committed fans on platforms like YouTube and Instagram Live and then using tech like Twitter and Zoom to create pathways into the ticket buying queue and eventually into the show. 

“They’re doing fan engagement that I just haven’t seen anyone do”, Benji says. “They really listened to the fans and watched what people reacted to. Liam is not just showing up and doing the live show. He’s spending weeks talking to fans, building out his own livestream world and tapping into all the modern ways that we see people communicate and interact and put content into the world”.

Yesterday Payne announced his third live stream event on Veeps, a Halloween party and show with tickets strating at $10. Finan O’Connor said much of the work Payne did building his online audience during the pandemic has focused on maximizing human connection while finding ways to deliver meaningful and direct experiences. Betweens his first and second show, Payne quadrupled the number of tickets sold and broke the record for most tickets sold to a single show on Veeps platform. Below, Finan O’Connor talks about what he and Payne learned as they developed their pandemic strategy in real time. 

Help Fans Find You in Unexpected Locations

"Social media is like an onion -- there's millions of people on the outside layers and you've got to peel away those layers before you have something you can cook," explains Finan O'Connor. That meant focusing resources on finding, engaging and communicating with individuals willing to spend a few hours with the U.K. singer "without bothering the other people who don't really want to hear you right now."

Early on, they noticed that thousands of fans were queueing up early for Payne's Roundup Show on YouTube, where he checks in with fans and talks about the different projects he is working on.

"There were 60,000 to 70,000 people sitting in a waiting room for half an hour before we premiered an episode, just between themselves talking about Liam, One Direction or whatever else," Finan O'Connor says. "So Liam went and sat the queue with them and started talking with his fans and answering their questions."

Fans started getting excited to have Payne in the queue but, others wanted proof it was really Payne and not a member of his team. So the "Midnight" singer hopped on Instagram Live and began streaming himself answering fan questions on YouTube.

"He was able to talk directly to people in the moment that actually really wanted to be part of it," Finan O'Connor says, growing his numbers both on YouTube and Instagram. To build off the momentum,  Payne now starts an Instagram Live stream prior to shows, telling his audience there ("160,000 to 200,000 fans," says Finan O'Connor) that the concert is about to begin in Veeps, then turns off that Instagram feed and starts the show, first with support acts and then his main performance.

"When we finish, we go backstage and we don't stop the show -- we carry it on for at least an hour [on Veeps]," Finan O'Connor says. "He'll chat with fans and do contests through Twitter to receive free tickets for the next show. Fans will vote for their favorite fans and Liam will announce the winner live on Veeps."

Include the Crowd in the Show

Performing in an empty room while fans watch at home can be a challenge for artists used to feeding off their fans' energy, but after watching a soccer game with cheering artificially added to the game, Finan O'Connor had an idea: add in sound recorded from previous live shows to make Payne's concerts on Veeps feel more realistic.

"They're shouting his name and five to 10 minutes in, you forget that these noises are not happening in real time," Finan O'Connor says. To mimic fans being brought on stage during a concert. Liam would feature people who had been filmed prior to the concert talking about how the pandemic was affecting their lives.

"Fans would say, 'We're struggling. We love this. You're giving us more and going out of your way,' and that's when it really hit Liam -- hit him big time -- because he able to give fans something they really needed," Finan O'Connor says.

Knowing many fans were struggling financially, Payne also sold tickets on a "pay what you want" basis, starting at $10, with a portion of ticket sales going towards the Trussell Trust Charity, which fights poverty and hunger issues in the U.K.

"It was important for him to make the shows about something bigger," Finan O'Connor says. "He wanted fans to feel like we were all in this together."

Build Momentum

When Payne first started thinking about how to approach the online concert series, he met with Benji Madden to get some ideas and inspiration for what had worked for other artists, like Brandi Carlile and LP, on the Veeps platform.

"Benji told him that he wouldn’t be doing just one show. It would be regular shows, building a deeper connection with his fan base in the same way an artist does when they tour in the early stages of their career," Finan O'Connor recalls. "Unlike a live tour where you repeat the same show in each city, his tour has a brand new show each time. Benji was right. The fans have loved the interaction."

Because Payne has fans all over the world, he's also tried to accommodate different time zones. But since it can take weeks and sometimes months to plan a show, Finan O'Connor came up with an easy work-around -- watch rebroadcasts of his shows live with his fans. "We watched along with the crowd, kind of like a director's cut, and he discussed how the songs were written and being played and he was laughing and having a good time," he says. "We went on for an hour and 45 minutes and it was almost like a radio show."

The strategy helped quadruple ticket sales from the first performance called LP Act 1 on July 17 to his LP Act 2 show on Aug. 29. During the rebroadcasts Payne would be "watching the comments and memes videos on Twitter, stop the show, press pause, and showing what someone says there or what someone posts here," he says. "When you're playing a concert, you can't just stop in the middle of the show and chat with people, but with the rebroadcasts, we can stop and bring in two fans via Zoom and ask question and interact and make the fans feel like they're really engaged in the concert. It's just taking the power of live-streaming into an entirely different dimension."

[intermundia]

Now I am curious, which are your favs obikin stories ??

Well. I’ve basically read all the way through the tag on ao3, almost everything in English and there is so much amazing content this is hard. I’m going to go with the stories that I have read more than once:

Soldier, Poet, King by Glare was the first obikin fic i read, and it altered something fundamental about my brain chemistry. sith!Obi-Wan, Vaderwan. Horizon Light by the same author is one of my favorite obikin AUs

I’ve reread many, many times the works by by l_tales : Master Mine , When the Abyss Stares Back at You / where every mask cracks, Home; I cannot stress enough how many times I’ve read these. Left tabs open on my phone for when I was anxious. One of my fav authors on ao3 for sure, everything is gold

Swear On It / The Sword Of Damocles by dirkygoodness made me vibe hard bottom!Anakin when before I’d been mostly interested in bottom!Obi-Wan

Himboskywalker completed the bottom!Anakin revelation with the magisterial Invictus. I’m following Conceal Me What I Am and The Rule of Two with bated breath

I’ve been following the entire Atlas of Our Ruin series by Ripki, the latest one, Uncharted, is blowing my mind and I am loving the mutual pining SO MUCH

I’ve read With a Warm and Tender Hand by temple_mistress so many times i’ve lost count tbh the hurt/comfort is amazing and the feeling revelations are incredible. He Watched and This Makes You Mine are others that changed me

Similarly Mud by Alcalina has been read many times, and Within Limits by anon(?) I love obikin war stories

Hourglass by BeanieBaby was the second story I’ve read, I remember this because I found obikin basically through time travel stories. Extremely well done 

Open Circle by Calyss cemented sith!Obi-Wan, i would give my left arm for another chapter, it ends at a climax and i want denouement goddamnit so good

I’ve been following the updates on the wonderful A/B/O alpha!Anakin Come Back to the Dark by amidnightlove 

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by unpheenix is very fun and I’ve been following the updates and enjoying v. v. v. much

as good a place to fall as any by glimmerglanger is also an amazing A/B/O alpha!Anakin; I’m also obsessed with Nor the Suns Themselves Brighter which is an anakin stays on tatooine story that makes me glow with joy inside

Better Living Through Lack of Chemistry by avarand is an A/B/O that helped awaken my love of alpha!Obi-Wan and top!Obi-Wan too. The Creche Master  and Children of War by the same author are extremely fun

Seed by bell (belldreams) is extremely enjoyable, very good obi-wan and like weirdly hot for being medicinal idk man i just love it, read it multiple times

My Moon After the Tide by LemonTwister is also weirdly hot for being medicinal? it’s not my thing exactly but these fic work for me lol

Adrift and Entangled by WhiteMoose is another WIP that i’ve been following and loving, excellent mutual pining omfg

Beautiful roses and battle scars by MiaGB I’ve read multiple times, I love soulmate AU and this is a beautiful concept and beautiful execution

One touch and I ignite by Paper_cut is one of the best at showing the changing relationship between anakin and obi-wan

A Mouthful of Ash by jcrowquill recently blew my mind, phenomenal post-mustafar development of their relationship 

[hartigays]

3. “It’s always been you.”

3. “It’s always been you.”

billy storms out of the apartment, seething and fighting back tears. because billy hargrove does not cry. ever. he didn’t back when he lived with neil, he didn’t after his mom left, he didn’t when he got arrested for possession and almost lost his scholarship to UCLA.

he’s not about to start now.

not because steve pretty boy harrington has to go around acting like a grade-A asshole, with his soft hair and big eyes and pouty lips, screwing everything with a goddamn pulse. no sir. billy won’t give him that luxury.

the reality is, steve has always had a thing for plowing his way through as many people as humanly possible. or so billy heard all those years ago when he’d first arrived in hawkins and started inquiring about the pretty-faced indiana boy who billy just couldn’t seem to stay away from.

but billy thought all of that was behind them. they live together, for fuck’s sake. they’d moved out to california together so billy could go to school, and so steve could take a position at one of the offices of his father’s company in LA. steve hasn’t been seeing anyone, billy hasn’t been seeing anyone. they’ve been happy. content.

and okay, so maybe they aren’t dating. maybe billy hasn’t exactly told steve how he feels. but, like, steve should know. billy has gone out of his way to make it glaringly obvious. steve may be oblivious, but he’s not dumb. not like everyone thinks.

billy is pretty damn sure there’s no way steve isn’t aware of how he feels.

the worst part is, billy thought steve actually felt the same. at least, he had up until today, when he walked in on steve sitting on the couch with some girl, laughing and smiling and whatever the fuck else. he’d walked out before he could see anything more, despite steve’s desperate pleas for him to come back so they could talk.

there’s nothing to talk about. billy thought steve liked him, steve doesn’t. it’s done. he just needs some time to... process it, or whatever. billy finds himself on the beach soon enough, and he slips off his shoes so he can stick his toes in the sand, plopping down with a sigh.

it’s a private beach tucked a ways away from the pier, but billy knows the owners of this plot. they don’t stay at their beach house until the winter, when they want to escape to somewhere a little warmer during the colder months. he’s pretty sure the rest of their time is spent in aspen. so for now he’s safe to sit here and think, staring out at the water as the sun sinks below the horizon.

billy has brought steve here a lot. they’ve picnicked here several times, and billy even brought steve out a once or twice to teach him how to surf before they knew that steve was irreparably bad at it. the thought makes billy’s heart squeeze, and he has to pinch himself as a reminder to not be such a pussy.

because it’s whatever that steve is into some air-headed cheerleader type with a tiny waist and hair like strands of gold. it doesn’t bother billy one bit. not at all. he Does Not Care in the slightest.

maybe if he keeps telling himself that, it’ll somehow become true.

“thought i might find you out here.”

billy doesn’t turn around at the sound of steve’s voice, keeping his eyes forward even though his stomach sinks. “congratulations, you’ve finally managed to develop critical thinking skills. let’s bust out the champagne.”

“i can go if you want me to,” steve says softly, even though billy feels him sink down onto the sand next to him, close enough that their arms brush.

billy just snorts, shrugging. “i don’t give a shit what you do, harrington.”

steve just sighs, and for a long time he doesn’t speak. out of the corner of his eye, billy can see him staring out at the sunset, looking rather forelorn. billy wishes he could turn that look into something soft, something happy, but steve has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t have that right.

“you know, i remember the first time you took me here,” steve says finally, and billy can’t help but glance over at him. steve’s smile is warm and soft, but tinged with something like sadness. “you tried to teach me how to surf. the first time, i mean. i slipped off the board and busted my ass so hard on it you had to carry me home.”

“you suck at surfing,” billy acknowledges, nodding. “badly.”

steve huffs a soft laugh. “yeah, i do. i just remember thinking that it was still one of the best days i’ve ever had. because that was the day i knew you loved me as much as i love you.”

billy goes completely still, his heart leaping up into his throat and his eyes watering, because what the fuck? where does steve get off making an admission like that just to make billy be less upset with him?

“don’t do that,” billy says, his voice rough. “you don’t get to do that. don’t pretend like you feel the same just because you don’t want me to be pissed at you.”

“billy,” steve starts, sounding distressed. he pauses, meeting billy’s eyes and fuck, they’re filled with tears too and billy doesn’t know how he feels about that. “it’s you. it’s always been you.”

the words break something inside of billy, and he crumples. he can’t pretend to be mad anymore when the truth is that he’s devastated. plain and simple.

“you sure have a funny way of showing it,” billy tells him, sniffling and wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “i saw you two. you were two seconds from playing couch twister. would’ve been if i hadn’t walked in when i did.”

“leanne is gay, billy,” steve groans, burying his face in his hands. “she works with me and she’s gay. has a nice girlfriend named annalise. they have a fucking kid. we were just- jesus, i can’t believe i even have to explain this. to you of all people. i’m the dumb one, remember? fuck. we were just going over some fucking spreadsheets. yeah, riveting stuff. super romantic.”

“i didn’t- are you fucking with me?” billy asks, because he’s starting to feel really fucking stupid and a small part of him is hoping he didn’t just throw a (rather humiliating) tantrum over nothing. “you guys were giggling. and sitting so close, i just... i thought you were making a move.”

“god, you can be more dense than me sometimes, you know that? we were giggling about you, dumbass. i told her that i liked you and she wanted to know more,” steve explains, shaking his head in disbelief. “it was just- i dunno. like two friends at a sleepover giggling about their crushes.”

“would you quit calling yourself an idiot?” billy huffs. primarily because he can’t think of anything else to say - his mind is racing too much. but also because it’s true. “this kinda proves that if anyone’s an idiot here, it’s me. i just- i don’t understand why you never said anything.”

steve is shoving his hands through the sand repeatedly, watching the sand run between his fingers. “you know i’m bi, i told you as much. i figured you were like me, or gay, or- i dunno. i just thought you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. i left the ball in your court, thinking that once you were ready, we’d, y’know. address the fucking elephant in the room.”

“the elephant being... ?” billy trails off. and he knows, but he really just wants to hear steve say it again.

steve rolls his eyes, laughing. “you know what i mean. but fine: the elephant being that i’m in love with you. and that i’m really, really hoping you love me, too.”

“i do,” billy says, his voice soft. “and i’m an idiot. i’m sorry.”

“you’re not an idiot. i probably would’ve thought the same thing if the roles were reversed and i walked in on something like that.” steve glances over at billy, giving him a tender smile. “just... next time, let’s talk to each other, yeah? i think that’ll save both of us a lot of grief.”

billy just hums, nodding his approval. they sit in comfortable silence for a little while, both still too nervous to make a move despite having just confessed their love to each other. at this point billy just finds it endearing, but he really, really wants to be closer to steve, and not just emotionally.

“i am gay, you know,” billy starts, his palms sweating, “and i really want to kiss you.”

“i know. and i think i’d like that.”

steve’s lips are soft and yielding beneath billy’s. his kisses feel exactly the way billy imagined they would - tender and sweet and a little shy, but curious. billy tries to keep it slow, not wanting to shove them into uncharted territory, but it’s only a matter of time before billy has steve’s back hitting the sand, hovering over him, their lips never breaking apart.

steve just sighs into the kiss, embracing the new position without complaint. he relaxes into the sand, one hand threading through billy’s curls, the other curling into the tufts of hair at the base of billy’s neck. it’s a kiss that billy never wants to end. but he knows there’ll be more. so much more.

“i’d say at least now we can get a cheaper apartment, but i think we’ll both still need our space every now and then,” steve says when billy pulls away, staring up a him with big eyes.

“yeah. plus it’s... ” billy trails off, his cheeks flushing bright red.

“it’s what?” steve asks, his brows coming together in confusion. “seriously, what were you going to say?”

“it’s home,” billy says gently, bracing both arms on either side of steve so he can swoop down to capture his lips again whenever he wants to. “home is wherever i’m with you, but- y’know. i like our place. it feels like us.”

“you’re such a fucking sap, oh my god,” steve laughs, but he’s smiling so brightly that billy thinks the whole beach could stay lit up for the rest of the night. “billy hargrove, secretly soft and mushy inside. who would’ve thought.”

“wasn’t, ‘til i met you,” billy tells him honestly.

and it’s true, for a long time billy hardened himself to the world, protecting himself with an armor of indifference until steve came along and melted him to his core. but billy isn’t one to complain, not when it means he gets to go to sleep and wake up to steve’s smile every day now, for the rest of his life. forever, maybe, if steve is up for that.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.