#Best Window Privacy Film

[hiosso]

https://autocraftcustomz.com/residential-window-tinting-auburn/

[lizillu]

[tintingmississaugaon]

Finding the Best Window Tinting Companies Near You in Mississauga

Finding the best window tinting companies in Mississauga is easy when you know what to look for. Start by checking the company's reputation through their website and customer reviews. Look for awards that show expertise and commitment to quality. Evaluate their service offerings to guarantee they meet your needs, whether it's automotive, residential, or commercial tinting. Compare prices and be on the lookout for discounts or bundle deals. Proximity matters too; local businesses can offer faster service and understand regional needs better. Discovering more insights will further help you select the perfect tinting company for your requirements.

Assessing Company Reputation

When you're looking to find the best window tinting company, evaluating their reputation is essential. You want a company that's not only skilled but also trustworthy.

Start by exploring their online presence. A well-maintained website with positive customer reviews can tell you a lot about how they operate and treat their clients.

Don't overlook social media platforms; they can offer real-time insights into customer satisfaction and company responsiveness.

Additionally, check if they've received any industry awards. These accolades can indicate a company's commitment to excellence and innovation in their field.

Awards often reflect a company's dedication to quality service and customer satisfaction, making them a valuable measure of reputation.

Evaluating Service Offerings

Exploring the range of services offered by a window tinting company is essential in determining if they're the right fit for your needs. You want to guarantee they provide the specific service types you're interested in, whether it's automotive, residential, or commercial tinting.

Investigate the details—do they offer energy-efficient films or advanced UV protection? These nuances can make all the difference.

Consider the warranty options they provide, too. A solid warranty reflects confidence in their work and offers you peace of mind. Ask about coverage duration and what's included.

Comparing Pricing Options

After evaluating a company's service offerings, it's important to take into account their pricing options.

You'll want to guarantee you're getting the best value without compromising on quality. Start by exploring various discount options they might offer. Some companies provide seasonal discounts or special promotions that could align perfectly with your needs.

Additionally, inquire about bundle deals. Bundling services, such as window tinting with other car enhancements, often leads to significant savings. This approach not only saves money but also adds a personal touch to your experience.

Comparing these options across different companies can help you make a more informed decision. Remember, a little research now can save you a lot later, guaranteeing you get the most bang for your buck.

Reviewing Customer Feedback

Customer feedback is a goldmine of information that can greatly influence your choice of window tinting companies. By diving into feedback analysis, you'll uncover firsthand experiences that reflect customer satisfaction levels and service quality.

Embrace the insights shared by others who've walked the path before you. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's enthusiastic to guide you.

When reviewing customer feedback, keep an eye out for:

- **Consistency in positive reviews** that highlight exceptional service.

- **Negative feedback patterns** that might indicate recurring issues.

- **Detailed testimonials** that provide specifics about the service.

- **Response from the company** to both positive and negative reviews.

- **Overall rating trends** to gauge general customer satisfaction.

Let these insights steer you toward a decision that guarantees you're in capable hands.

Exploring Location Proximity

Considering location proximity is essential when choosing a window tinting company, as it can markedly impact convenience and service efficiency.

Imagine the ease of having a trusted professional just around the corner. When you conduct a local search, you're not just finding nearby options; you're tapping into geographic advantages that can make a world of difference in service speed and accessibility.

Having a company close by means quicker response times, especially if you need follow-up services or adjustments. You'll save on travel time and possibly even costs.

Plus, local businesses often have a better understanding of regional weather conditions, ensuring that your tinting needs are met with expertise.

Prioritize proximity, and you'll likely enjoy a smoother, more personalized experience.

Conclusion

In your quest to find the best window tinting company in Mississauga, trust your instincts like a seasoned navigator trusts their compass. You've assessed reputations, evaluated services, and compared pricing, guaranteeing you get the best value. Customer feedback has been your guide, steering you towards quality. And with location proximity in mind, you assure convenience. Now, you're equipped to make an informed choice, ready to enhance your space with the perfect tint.

[thedensworld]

Alone at Night | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, established relationship, short!

Summary: Mingyu has no idea until he had to sleepover in your house because of the rain. In fact, it hurts him.

In the dimly lit room, the soft patter of rain against the window was the only sound, punctuated occasionally by a distant rumble of thunder. Mingyu shifted on the couch, glancing at the clock on the wall. 2 a.m. already. He hadn't planned on staying this late, but fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

As he nestled deeper under the cozy comforter you had provided, Mingyu couldn't help but smile, reminiscing about the evening that led to this unexpected slumber party. Your movie date had been nothing short of perfect – a delicious dinner cooked by your own hands followed by a marathon of films, laughter, and the warmth of your presence beside him.

But as the clock struck midnight, Mingyu had made a mental note to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome or make things awkward. Yet, as if the universe conspired against his plans, the rain began to pour relentlessly, trapping him in your cozy abode for the night.

"Fourth date and already a sleepover," he mused to himself, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring his thoughts. Mingyu couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in his chest at the thought of spending more time with you, even if it was under somewhat unconventional circumstances.

Reflecting on how he had met you through a mutual friend, Mingyu couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn his life had taken. Your calm demeanor and quiet energy had drawn him in from the start, and what had begun as a simple friendship had blossomed into something deeper – something he couldn't quite put into words.

And when he finally mustered the courage to confess his feelings, Mingyu had braced himself for any outcome, never daring to hope that you might feel the same way. Your stoicism had kept him guessing, but your acceptance had filled him with a warmth he had never known before.

As he drifted off to sleep, cocooned in the comfort of your home and the promise of a new day with you, Mingyu couldn't help but feel grateful for the rain that had brought him here – and for the person who had stolen his heart in the most unexpected of ways.

In the midst of his own thoughts and worries, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of concern gnawing at him. He knew you had been through a lot lately – the setbacks at work, the financial burdens from family, the weight of responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. Yet, you always seemed to carry yourself with such grace and composure, never letting on just how much you were struggling.

But as he lay awake on the couch, the sound of faint sobbing drifting through the stillness of the night shattered Mingyu's facade of calm. His heart clenched with a mixture of anguish and helplessness, realizing that it was you – the person he cared for deeply – who was silently bearing the weight of your own troubles.

With cautious steps, Mingyu approached your slightly ajar door, his ears straining to catch the sound of your stifled sobs. His hand hovered over the door, torn between respecting your privacy and wanting to offer whatever comfort he could.

Inside your room, you sat on the edge of your bed, shoulders trembling as you tried to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Despite your best efforts to reassure Mingyu and everyone else that you were okay, the facade cracked in the solitude of the night, allowing the pent-up tears to finally spill over.

Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight of you on the bed, your body trembling with silent sobs. The realization that you had been crying alone, even with him just a room away, sent a pang of guilt coursing through him. What pain had you been concealing behind that stoic facade? The thought gnawed at him, filling him with a deep ache of concern for you.

Summoning his resolve, Mingyu softly knocked on your door, his hand lingering on the doorknob before gently pushing it open. The dim light of the night lamp cast a soft glow over the room as Mingyu stepped inside, his gaze drawn to your form on the bed.

"Do you need something, Mingyu?" Your voice, tinged with exhaustion and sadness, cut through the silence. You looked up at him, attempting to mask the vulnerability that lingered in your eyes, but Mingyu saw through the facade.

Without a word, he approached you, his heart heavy with the weight of your pain. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached out and switched on the night lamp, illuminating your tear-stained face. His hand moved to your cheek, gentle and tender as he wiped away the evidence of your tears.

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, Mingyu hummed softly, a soothing melody meant to offer comfort and solace. There were no words to express the depth of his concern for you, but in that simple gesture, he hoped you could feel his unwavering support and the love that overflowed in his heart.

"Mingyu..." Your voice quivered as you spoke his name, a mixture of relief and vulnerability laced in those two syllables.

"It's okay... You can cry..." Mingyu's voice was gentle, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul. With a reassuring nod, he extended his hand, offering you the comfort and understanding you so desperately needed.

As you sat in front of him, the floodgates of emotion burst open, tears streaming down your cheeks unchecked. Mingyu's heart constricted at the sight of your raw pain, but he remained steadfast, his arms opening wide to envelop you in a warm embrace.

"Baby..." Mingyu's voice was tender, filled with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. He pulled you closer, holding you tightly against his chest as you surrendered to your tears. Each sob wracked your body, but Mingyu held you with unwavering strength, his presence a beacon of solace in the darkness of your despair.

You cried harder, the weight of your burdens feeling momentarily lighter in Mingyu's embrace. His words of reassurance washed over you like a gentle wave, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the storm of your emotions.

"It's okay, you're doing great... I'm here." Mingyu's whispered words echoed in the stillness of the room, a promise of his unwavering support and unconditional love. And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you knew that you were not alone – that no matter how heavy the burdens you carried, Mingyu would always be there to share the load.

Wrapped in the comforting cocoon of your embrace, Mingyu held you close, his arms a steady anchor amidst the storm of your emotions. He watched as your tears gradually subsided, your breathing slowing to a steady rhythm against his chest. With tender care, he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Is it always like this? Every night?" Mingyu's voice was soft, tinged with concern, as he finally broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind.

You shook your head, the remnants of sadness still lingering in your eyes. "Sometimes it just hits randomly at night. Without a reason."

"This time too?" Mingyu's question was gentle, his gaze searching yours for any sign of reassurance.

You nodded, the weight of your admission hanging heavy in the air between you. But Mingyu didn't falter – instead, he pulled you closer, his touch a silent vow of unwavering support.

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting gesture as he spoke, his voice filled with determination. "If this happens again, later... Call me. I'll be by your side, like this."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of Mingyu's love and the promise of his steadfast presence, you felt a glimmer of hope ignite within you. No matter how dark the night may seem, you knew that with Mingyu by your side, you would never have to face it alone.

[lavenderphrog]

Thinkin abt ghost...

When he first saw you, found out you joined task force 141, he thought you were going to be another one of them girls who where chasing after him. Another one of those girls who openly flirt with him.

So, when you weren't, he was surprised.

His face contorted into confusion when your face didn't blush around his presence. When you only threw him a glance instead of staring at him. When you scooted away from him as he approached, interrupting the conversation between you and Soap.

And, when you ignored him, he was furious.

His drill orders fell to deaf ears as he ordered you around in training. He then crossed his arms, his face scrunched in anger under his mask, barking orders and throwing insults as you continued to ignore him.

He began starting conversation with you, cornering you outside the locker room, asking why you were ignoring him, and you had the audacity to walk off without answering.

This went on for weeks, months even, before you finally got called into his office. You went through the twists and turns of the hallways before stopping in front of the doorway of his office. Ghosts office.

You turned the doorknob and walked inside. "You wanted me?" You questioned.

"Yea." He cleared his throat after he spoke before looking at you up and down, surveying your body out of tactical gear. There was a glimpse of something in his eyes, something you couldn't quite place your finger on.

"I wanna know why you've been ignorin' me - yer lieutenant." This sounded more like a demand, like he needed to know. His eyes squinted as he looked back up at your face.

"I'll be blunt," you stated, looking down at the floor as your eyebrows shot up. Your eyes then moved back toward him and you jutted your hip out. "I don't like you. You're cocky and snarky and I don't like you. It doesn't matter if you're my lieutenant or not, I won't act like I'm best buds with someone I don't like."

Before he could respond however, you took your leave, one foot taking place in front of the other.

It was clear you didn't like him, yet, after so much time, he wanted you to. He wanted you to like him.

He never knew how this progressed, never knew why it progressed this way. Yet, it didn't seem to matter as you got called off to go home for a week — same time he did.

It didn't matter as he found you, after you've been laid off. You were in the store, in an oversized hoodie that barely covered your legs, giving him a view of the lower part of the round plumpness of your laced panty covered ass as you bent over, picked up a soda, placed in in your hands along with other things you were holding, and paid for it at the cashier.

It didn't matter as he followed you home, trenched through you backyard, careful not to step on any of the fancy flowers you obviously planted, and stood outside your window.

His gaze appeared on you, who was watching TV — some horror film displaying on the monitor, a graphic scene of blood and gore being shown. Your hoodie was off, revealing a skimpy black tank top and the panties he saw earlier hugging your skin.

His hands went to the windowsill of the house as he watched you, silently grateful for the privacy fence you installed, as no one could see him watching you. His eyes roamed over your body and he had to take a breath in.

Who knew you had such a pretty body to match with such a pretty face.

You turned the TV off and began walking to a different area. He circled around your house, following your movement as you lead yourself to a room in which he believed to be your bedroom, the bed inside the room leading him to believe this.

You plopped yourself on the bed, the bed diviting under your weight as you did so, and went under your covers. You turned onto your belly, letting out a sigh as you thought about Ghost once again since you've been laid off.

You were torn between what to do. He was your lieutenant and you hated him. He was reserved yet egotistical because of how many girls drooled over him... yet every time you thought about him, you could feel a pulsing in your core, a primal need for him. You were playing this façade that you hated him when it was the exact opposite, the pulsing you were currently feeling reminding you of this.

You reached under your pillow until you felt something hard yet elastic. Your face scrunched up in embarrassment. You brought it out and became even more embarrassed as you looked at the purple vibrator in your hands. You haven't used this thing in months.

Yet that embarrassment quickly faded as you pressed the button attached to it, turning it on, and pressed it to your clit. A jolt of electricity went through you as you felt a familiar warmth spread through your skin.

You let out a soft moan as you rolled it over your clit, a shudder going through your body as you did so.

Ghosts eyes widened at the sight of you doing this before him. It was beautiful. He couldn't stop the ache between his legs, causing his pants to grow uncomfortably tight. He let out a pant of breath as he watched you continue through your window, his grip on the edge of the window tightening.

A jolt of pleasure went through your skin and you inserted the vibrator into your wet cunt, grabbing the pillow and gripping it tightly. Your hand trailed from the pillow to your breast, kneading it. Now palming himself through his pants, Ghost almost lost his mind as he heard you moan out his name. His eyes widened.

You did like him.

Fuck.

His eyes almost rolled back and he almost soiled his pants as he threw his head back, the balaclava he was wearing muffling his quiet moans. His face scrunched as he watched you pump the vibrator in and out of yourself, the fast thrusts causing you to moan out his name over and over again, almost like a chant.

You gripped the edge of the bed as you leaned off your stomach, sitting up. Your face scrunched and you threw your head back as you felt the muscles in your abdomen tighten.

You started pumping fast and leaned onto your back, unknowingly giving Ghost a perfect view of yourself. Your hand moved from the edge of the bed to your face, cupping your own cheek as your eyes scrunched closed.

You then slowed down as you felt a wave of pleasure run under your skin, riding yourself through your orgasm as you panted out breaths. Ghost was letting pants of breath as well, soiling his pants to the visual enjoyment of you pleasing yourself.

[starsinthesky5]

what other trips do they go on?

a/n: this has been swirling in my head since last night 🙂‍↕️

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it’s no secret that joe used to be a bit of a hermit. content to stay tucked away at home, keeping to himself, his circle tight, his world small. he liked the quiet. the privacy. the comfort of routine and walls that kept curious eyes out. it wasn’t that he didn’t love life, he just preferred to live it quietly. out of the spotlight, off the grid. but then she came into his life like sunlight through the blinds, warm and undeniable, and something in him shifted.

she had this way of making the world feel a little less loud, a little less scary. with her hand in his, even the busiest cities felt like background noise. she got him out of the house, out of his own head, out into the world. and now they travel—not for show, not for headlines, but because it brings them closer. road trips through the middle of nowhere. late-night swims in oceans they’d never seen before. mornings in places where no one knows their names. she made him want to see the world, not just read about it. and somehow, with her beside him, it feels safe to do so.

here are a few examples of some of their ventures together:

lake house retreats: joe’s a midwestern boy through and through, so when the offseason hits and the world finally quiets down, they disappear to a secluded lake house tucked into the trees—just the two of them and the sound of water lapping against the dock. they pack light: oversized hoodies, sweatpants, flannels they share, and those matching sweatshirts she had made that say captain and first mate as a joke that made him roll his eyes and grin. phones off. fishing poles propped up at the edge of the dock. she curls up in an old foldable chair, reading while he fiddles with the grill, sneaking glances at her over his shoulder like he can’t believe she’s really his. later, they roast marshmallows and drink red wine in front of the firepit, bundled together under one blanket, her legs tangled with his, her fingers resting on his thigh while he plays with her rings absentmindedly. they sleep with the windows open and wake up to birds and soft light on the hardwood floor. it’s quiet. peaceful. just them.

euro summer: once the season ended, they vanished for a few weeks, ducking away from headlines and expectations and into a summer of gelato, linen, and golden hour kisses. they wandered cobbled streets in italy, got lost in coastal greek villages, and kissed under every string of lights they walked past in southern france. she wore breezy sundresses and carried a film camera; he wore linen button-downs and a backpack he always insisted on carrying for the both of them. they sipped aperol spritzes in the shade, people-watched in piazzas, and bought stupid little souvenirs they still laugh about now. they took trains, stayed in boutique hotels, and shared headphones on park benches like teenagers. they’d already hit paris and cannes for work things earlier that month, but this trip was just for them—messy hair, sunburned noses, and love notes scribbled in the back of receipts she tucked into her journal.

napa valley/wine country: this one started with her. he wasn’t really a wine guy—until she was curled up beside him one night, sipping a glass and explaining the difference between earthy and fruity notes, cheeks warm, eyes sparkling. now? he books the reservations himself. they’ll escape to napa or sonoma for long weekends where she wears flowy skirts and he wears his best button-ups because she told him wine country deserves a little effort. they giggle through tastings, take blurry selfies in vineyards, and walk back to their room arm in arm, tipsy and giddy. she ends up drunk off two glasses, red-stained lips and nose scrunchy giggles, and he buys bottles based on labels with butterflies or fonts she likes. he’s got no clue what he’s doing. just that she’s happy, and that’s enough.

homey road trips: sometimes, they just need to drive. no cameras, no flights, no screens. just her singing off-key on purpose to make him laugh, joe’s hand on her thigh, and miles of open road. they’ve road-tripped to her hometown, to florida, even down to mississippi to see his extended family. she DJs with aggressive control of the aux, feeding him gas station snacks and narrating billboards in ridiculous accents. he smiles so much his cheeks ache. they stop at diners, antique shops, and scenic overlooks just because they feel like it. they take polaroids at every gas station and kiss behind trees like teenagers. it’s on these long drives—when she’s barefoot on the dashboard and the sun’s hitting her just right—that joe swears he’s seconds away from pulling over and proposing...even without an actual ring. these are the days that feel like forever.

beach getaways: they’ve got a weakness for the ocean. hawaii, the bahamas, the maldives—it doesn’t matter where, as long as the water’s warm and the sun’s high. she lives in his old t-shirts over bikinis, and he never lets her walk anywhere without his arm around her waist. they swim together in the mornings, her legs wrapped around his waist, kisses traded in the waves like secrets. afternoons are naps in the shade, skin sticky with sunscreen and sea salt. he braids her hair after she swims, surprisingly gentle with his fingers, while she lays in his lap with her eyes closed. at night, they walk the shoreline barefoot, watching the stars and whispering things they’re too shy to say in daylight. they come back with tan lines and new freckles, but more than anything, with memories that feel like dreams. salty, golden, and impossibly sweet.

destin, florida (the bye week getaway flashback from chapter two): last october during joe’s bye week, they escaped to destin. just the two of them, off the grid. it was quiet, warm, and slow in the best way. they stayed in a beachfront rental where she walked around barefoot in his old college tees, and he grilled them dinner while she danced around the kitchen. mornings were spent with her legs thrown over his lap on the balcony, sipping coffee. afternoons meant long swims, reading together under an umbrella, and him tracing shapes into her sunscreened back. nights brought card games, shared playlists, and kisses salty from the sea. it was the kind of trip that made them talk about the future like it was already here.

ibiza: their ibiza trip was a dream. equal parts chaos and closeness. they went with his ohio state friendgroup, but always found themselves sneaking off just the two of them, ducking into cafes or walking hand in hand down white stone alleys. she wore sparkly beach coverups and sunglasses bigger than her face, and he wore open button-downs and his bucket hat, watching her like the sun rose just for her. nights meant dancing till sunrise, his hands on her hips in crowded clubs, her laugh echoing in his ear. they made out like teenagers in the hotel hallway. it was wild, electric, and so full of them.

[littlexdeaths]

we should probably hear him out, right?

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: angst, miscommunication, reader is bratty and mean bc her insecurities get the best of her, eddie is far too sweet for his own good.

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

a/n: ngl i did struggle a bit with this one, so i really wanna thank @strangerstilinski & @uglypastels & @undead-supernova for giving me some much needed advice. ily all 💕also this is a tad bit long… oopsie. xx.

eddie was beyond confused.

you haven’t spoken to him in days and whenever he came around to see sid, you had holed yourself up in your room. your bedroom window remained locked and despite his futile attempts to get you to open up, you ignored him.

it was such a complete 180 from how you’d been acting only a few days prior— so he couldn’t help but assume the worst.

maybe you had changed your mind, regretted this… or more specifically regretted him.

what else was he supposed to think?

but you really couldn't help yourself — too busy replaying that moment over and over in your head.

a flash of strawberry blonde hair. and the memory of eddie’s gentle gaze directed so sweetly at someone who decidedly wasn't you…

it had the green mist that clouded your mind twisting into something else entirely, something uglier. jealousy gave way to hurt, and hurt gave way to anger.

seeing eddie with her had pushed all of your insecurities to the surface. they bubbled hotly beneath your ribs and left you feeling sick to your stomach for the first few days, but that was before you realized that anger was far easier to deal with than sadness.

now, you clung to your rage like a safety blanket.

and while you wanted to be angry with both of them— it really wasn’t chrissy’s fault.

so you took that anger and frustration out on him, as childish as it was. and the more days that passed, your cold shoulder morphed into clipped words and pointed glares.

it was enough for even sid to take notice.

“dude, i don’t know what happened but i think i preferred it when she was making heart eyes at you.” he’d said after you stormed through the garage during one of their band practices.

purposefully knocking your shoulder against eddie’s while you passed by. it was so completely out of character for you that it had all the guys stunned into an uncomfortable silence.

but despite how poorly you continued to treat him, eddie kept showing up regardless. while it was always under the guise of hanging out with your brother, you knew better.

he tried his best to find a time to pull you aside to talk to you, but you were being more elusive than ever. and his own frustrations with your actions began to weigh heavily on him.

and one of these days he would explode— whether sid was there to witness it or not.

everything finally reaches a boiling point just a week later, when you came downstairs to find eddie lounging on your sofa. a random horror flick playing on the tv and your brother nowhere to be found.

while you could’ve turned around and retreated to the privacy of your room, the petty side of you wants to continue to push his buttons. so you make your way down the stairs, quietly shuffling behind the sofa and leaning your hip against it.

once you have a better view you can’t help but roll your eyes at the choice of the film, the cover art staring up at you almost mockingly.

cheerleader camp, what a surprise.

“really, munson? i thought you of all people would’ve had better taste than this shit.”

your voice sounds a beat before a dramatic score fills the room and eddie jumps in surprise. his curls bounce when his head whips around to peek up at you, and you expect to be met with a look of irritation. but you’re more than confused to see the relief that flits across his features instead.

because at least you’re talking to him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

and you have to look away from the intensity of his gaze, already feeling your defenses start to crumble. damn him. so you advert your attention back to the movie, jaw tightening as you see a flash of brightly colored pom poms fill the screen.

“oh, nothing…” you inhale sharply, “it’s just obvious that you have a type.”

you gesture towards the tv and any lingering anger swirling in your body begins to dissipate. but before he can see the flash of hurt in your eyes, you quickly turn on your heel and start to climb the stairs back towards your room.

“whoa— whoa, sweetheart, hang on!” eddie huffs, hopping over the back of the sofa to rush after you.

only his socks slip on the hardwood floor and he almost goes tumbling to the ground. but he’s able to catch himself on the banister, and uses the momentum to skip past the first few steps to the landing.

“i really don’t want to do this right now, eddie.”

a glance over your shoulder has you quickening your pace, practically taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to put more distance between you. but eddie is a lot faster than you gave him credit for. the male was already hot on your heels once you reach the top of the staircase.

“jesus christ— slow down!”

you ignore him and continue down the hall toward your bedroom, and you’ve barely crossed the threshold before he’s tugging on your wrist to whirl you back around. eddie is practically panting as he pulls you closer and it takes everything in your power not to lean into his touch.

“will you please just tell me what the hell is going on?” he pleads, leaning against the door-jam.

“i don’t know, why don’t you ask your new girlfriend about it?” you scoff, yanking your wrist out of his grip and attempting to slam the door in his face.

but eddie sticks his foot into the crack right before it can fully close, wincing as a fiery pain shoots up into his calf. and despite the throbbing in his foot, he pushes his way into your room.

“mouse, what are you even talking about?”

you can hear the frustration that begins to bleed into his voice, but you keep your back to him. you know that seeing him was going to make this that much harder.

“please just cut the bullshit eddie, i saw you with her,” you voice cracks as you try to swallow down the emotions threatening to burst from your chest.

“with who?”

“— chrissy!”

it’s silent for a beat, besides the sounds of your heavy breathing. so when you finally muster the courage to face him. that confused, yet hurt expression doesn’t falter.

“sweetheart, i honestly don’t know what you’re so upset about.”

he rubs a hand down his face with a deep sigh.

“i’m not blind, eddie,” you’re almost offended that he thinks he might be able to get away with pretending that it never happened. “i saw how she looked at you.”

eddie just stares at you for a moment, bewildered and unblinking. until he suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter, which only re-ignites the hurt and fury that’s been swirling in your gut for the past week and a half.

“i really don’t see how any of this is funny, eddie,” you snap.

“it’s just….” he practically wheezes, taking a step toward you. “you’ve got this whole thing wrong, baby.”

the slip of the pet name has your insides fluttering, despite your lingering resentment.

“well enlighten me, then.”

it takes him a minute to calm down completely, but once he does he’s reaching out for your hands and closes the lingering space between your bodies.

“i promise you, mouse. i’m really not her type.”

your snort has him sighing deeply before he cradles your cheeks between his palms. while you’re not satisfied with that answer, your anger starts to fizzle under the warmth of his gaze.

eddie then licks his lips while he attempts to collect his thoughts and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion.

“let’s just say… we bat for the same team.”

embarrassment immediately floods through you as the weight of his words begin to sink in.

and now you feel like a total idiot.

“oh.” you breathe.

“yeah, oh,” he chuckles.

“oh my god, i’m so stupid,” you groan, letting your head fall forward to bump into his shoulder.

“hey, you’re not stupid, mouse. just maybe… a little prone to jumping to conclusions.”

you can feel him laugh again as he envelopes you completely in his arms. and you gladly bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck in an effort to hide your warm cheeks.

“however…” he continues, “next time, if i do something that makes you worry like that. will you promise to just come and talk to me?”

he can feel you nod your head, his body relaxing when your lips press into his clothed shoulder.

“while i know i can an asshole sometimes, i’m not a total prick.”

eddie grins when that pulls a giggle out of you, having missed that sound more than he’d care to admit. the male then gently grips your chin between his thumb and fore finger, coaxing you up until you meet his eyes.

and there’s nothing but sincerity that shines through them.

“so, what do you say?” he muses.

your head tilts in slight confusion as he leans in to nudge his nose with yours, your breath mingling together.

“be my girl?”

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can

let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!

[knnichs]

ㅤruler of my heartㅤ a furina x reader fake dating au

t. not proofread, possibly ooc furina, set on a semi-modern fontaine, furina is NOT the archon, scara being a hater, wc. 3.3k

taglist. @aellesira @radiantdanvers @readerzz @randompassersby @romyoia @angeliteeyes -> ENTER THE TAGLIST HERE

series masterpost header art credits

author notes at the end!

ii. smooth sailing

It’s been three days since you’ve signed the contract with your director and your coworker. Three days where you had second guessed every decision leading up to now. It seems like your director was right about this whole stunt after all, everyone's attention was on the film and the two of you now. It’s unsettling to feel like the entire world has eyes on you, but there was a feeling in you that prided in the fact you’ve made it this far, you only had to worry about your co-worker playing the part.

In all truthfulness, though, Furina was not a bad actor–far from it, actually. WIth a seemingly snap of a finger, she was able to completely shift her personality to another, as if it was lightwork. You’ve admired her talent for as long as you could remember–but it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, knowing that despite all your hard work, it was truly nothing compared to someone with a natural ability.

She had texted you not long ago. Yesterday, 6 pm, and now, 3 pm, reminding you to dress up for this pretend-first-date she had taken the honor to set up.

And now there you were, standing awkward infront of some cafe with a name too confusing to pronounce, it seemed to be popular with how many people were sitting in it. Warm golden lights seeped through hand-painted windows–this was the type of place you’d see when looking for stock images of cafes. 

An intense smell of roasted coffee beans would greet you once you even step one foot inside, and you quickly look for your date so you wouldn’t seem like an idiot standing by the entrance. 

Furina was already posing dramatically for nonexistent cameras, legs crossed while elegantly sitting on the chair. 

“Well?” She said, mocking impatience. “Are you going to sit down or what?”

You could only roll your eyes at her, pulling the chair back and settling in the booth seat.

 It didn’t take too long before some people started staring at the two of you–hushed whispers as they brought out their phones to take pictures. Why is THE Furina out on a date?

The silence was deafening. It didn’t even seem like you two were on a date, it was awkward, every time you tried to speak you’d hesitate and your hands would start to shake. You’re used to having a spotlight on you on set, never in public. This was your first time getting in a film for the festival and you didn’t even know it would get this big. 

Not for the all-talented Furina, though. Apparently not. Because she just had to clear her throat, cross her arms, before beginning to fit into the role given to her immediately. 

“Well… I’m getting a slice of lemon chiffon cake! It’s the most photogenic–it’ll look good on my feed, exactly matching the look of this place. Oh, and it’s tasty too. Naturally, it’s cake!”

You raise an eyebrow at her comment, “Did you just pick the place based on aesthetics?”

“Obviously. If we’re gonna be seen, we must be seen in the best light possible. It’s gonna be horrible if we’re unflattering, might as well play the part till the end, yes?”

“Thats…” 

Oh, it was certainly something. Not once in your lifetime would you think you’d ever see Furina actually take this whole thing seriously. Maybe it’s because she’s effortlessly flawless–ever since you’ve started your acting career, you felt as if you had to play as someone perfect all the time, even if there were no cameras and flashes filling your entire vision. Even if you were in the privacy of your apartment. It was ridiculous enough that you couldn’t help but laugh–that small interaction was enough to ease the tension you were feeling.

You had called over a waitress and finished placing your orders. You two sat opposite of each other, the table was small enough that your knees almost bumped. All while waiting for your food to arrive, Furina insisted on taking several pictures. She pulls out her phone, angling it just so to capture a candid-looking selfie, head tilted, a small smile curving her lips.

“You should lean in,” She whispered without looking up at you at all. “It’ll look absolutely adorable.”

And so you did, not without hesitating for half a second, forcing a pitiful smile. The phone clicked, Furina stared at the photo critically, then hummed in satisfaction.

“Perfect!” She declared, “Authenticity achieved. You’re a natural at this.”

The photoshoot didn’t end there, unfortunately. You were forced to take a few photos of her, and she took three of you. You questioned her, why do we need to be taking photos of each other? 

All she did was give you a giggle and reply with, “it’s for documentation purposes, you wouldn’t get it.”

For a few moments, you two sat in the busyness of the cafe, sun pooling in puddles on the floor–it reached her, almost like a halo clinging to the edges of her figure, the murmur of other conversations hushing yours, almost as if what you two were sharing was a private moment when in reality, it was far from it.

Furina rested her chin on her hand, studying you with bright, questioning eyes. It wasn’t the look of her usual self, scheming and plotting something that could potentially bring all attention to the two of you. It was… curiosity. As if she was almost interested in you, a genuine way that made you feel a little uneasy.

“You’re stiff,” She said bluntly.

You blink, a little taken aback by the sudden insult. “I’m trying to be normal.”

“That’s the problem! You’re trying, you must be effortless, natural!”

“I don’t think being effortless is a skill you can just summon on command.” You shook your head, crossing your arms and giving her a look.

Furina giggled, not the usual theatrical act, but a smaller, real laugh that caught you off guard. And before you could reply–your orders had already arrived. Two delicate plates painted to perfection, almost as if carved with actual gold with the amount of skill poured into it. Both slices of cake looked too pretty to eat, it almost made you feel guilty if you ruined it.

Furina wasted no time, however, snapping a quick picture before using a fork and diving into the lemon chiffon, sighing dramatically. “Absolute heaven,” She leaned across the table, taking another forkful of the cake and putting it right infront of you. “You must try.”

“What?”

“Try it!” She waves the fork, “Open up, come on, it’s just a bite.”

This is how rumors start, a few stolen photos, exchanged words from fan to fan–there was that feeling in you that this was wrong, you forget that you were simply on a pretend date. 

Odd. It’s almost as if you’ve completely forgotten you actually had the contract for a second.

“I suppose a single bite won't hurt anyone.”

It was light and sweet. The perfect balance of sweetness and sourness–vanilla and the taste of lemon clashed, but in a pleasing way. Furina grinned at your reaction.

“See?” She nudges you, “You can be charming when you try.”

You wipe your mouth with a clean napkin, “Stop being all smug—And yes, I am quite charming.”

“Ugh, whatever.” 

Sure, people were giving weird looks, but that was the point in the end. To gather enough attention for the film, be it scandal or not. Your moment with Furina put your guard down, you hadn’t noticed that people were already snapping pictures of the two of you. Phones peeking over a booth across the room, or barely-hidden glances by two teenagers whispering. It didn’t take long until blurry photos surfaced online.

Mission success, you think to yourself.

The sun was nearly set by the time you two went out of the cafe, the sky shifting to a soft, glowing purple and yellow. Streets were spilled with the light from the lamps, the air cold and thin. 

“I think this first date went well,” You say, not particularly to anyone, but Furina seems to notice. 

She hummed in agreement, letting herself breathe in the fresh air after being stuck in the cafe for so long. “Two days from now again, then? I got tickets to an aquarium showcase nearby.”

“Sure.” 

Maybe it was going well, maybe not. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like you two were pretending at all. There comes the price of being a great actor, you suppose. You’re not quite sure what's real or fake when you’re around someone as great as Furina–she could just be pretending, much like you, but what if it was real all along? 

What if. 

But there's no need to bother yourself with such distracting thoughts. There are things you need to focus on–the film, more pretend dates, you need to keep your act up at least until the festival. That is roughly… Two weeks from now.

Two weeks, you’re sure you can handle that atleast.

The wind tugged lightly at your leather coat as you leaned against the railing, just by the entrance of the aquarium Furina suggested you two go to. It was across the plaza, the glass making it seem as if it was glinting in the late afternoon sun. A large banner saying “DATE NIGHT: 50% OFF!” flapped noisily above you.

No wonder Furina got those tickets.

Speak of the devil. She was running towards  you, huffing, pure disappointment on her face–clearly unimpressed by her unprofessionalism. She had shown up fifteen minutes late–though she begs to differ, saying she was fashionably late, immediately launching to a dramatic retelling of how her hair refused to cooperate and how her original outfit suddenly disappeared into the comfort of her own mattress. 

She leaned beside you with arms crossed, chin tilted up like she was trying to intimidate the building. “Alright, we need a game plan.”

“For an… aquarium?”

“For our date,” She said, gesturing air quotes. “We can’t just walk in there like clueless idiots. There has to be moments, photo worthy angles, do you get what I mean?”

You shook your head once more, “No, not really. Did you want to storyboard this? Is that why you were late?”

“Just…! No–No I didn’t storyboard.” She huffed as if she was anything less than offended by what you said. “I’m improvising, like a true actress. But even improv needs structure.” 

Furina took out her phone and flipped the camera, her palm reaching to bounce her curls to fix them or something. “You’ll be on my left,” She added absentmindedly. “That’s your better side.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying I’m ugly on the other side?”

“Precisely.”

“Rude.”

“That I am not! Just telling the truth. Are we going to get in or not?” 

There was a flicker of something behind her eyes–a kind of nervous excitement she wasn’t quite able to hide behind the dramatics. She was trying, in her own way, atleast. Maybe not just for the cameras. 

You let a beat of silence pass before speaking up, “You know, we could just… Have fun. Be normal. See some fish?”

Yet she still looked at you like you’ve suggested committing treason. “Did you forget we’re doing this for PR?”

“It’s easier to fake a relationship when you don’t plan every interaction like it’s a play. Trust me, go along with it.”

Her mouth opened, ready to go talk back–but then, surprisingly, she quieted down. “Fine,” Finally slipping her phone into her bag. “Let’s do it your way.”

You offered your arm, “Shall we, your majesty?

She stared at your outstretched elbow, deadpan, scoffing when she pushed you slightly. “Never. Say that again.”

The inside of the aquarium was a hush of blue tinted light and soft murmurs, the soft whirring of the machine that clears the inside of the tanks. It smelled faintly of saltwater, obviously, you two were at an aquarium. The light would flicker from time to time-mostly due to the huge fish blocking it above you. You passed under an archway, casting rippling shadows over your face as if the building itself had sunk to the ocean floor.

The deeper you went in the showcase, the dimmer it got. The tank glowed at that point–schools of silver fish, a sea turtle drifting from time to time, its shadow vast against the wall. Furina’s earlier dramatic theatrics died down. She was uncharacteristically quiet, simply because of the awe present in her expression. She stopped posing for invisible cameras. You stopped watching for them.

There was a large viewing tunnel that dipped beneath the shark tank, Furina walked a little ahead of you, a bounce in her step you couldn’t ignore no matter how hard you tried. She looked up to follow the path of a hammerhead gliding overhead.

“Think they can see us?” She asked, whispering, she might've seen the signs to keep quiet.

“Maybe. What, you scared?”

“Ha! Far from it!” 

“Shh, not so loud.” 

A gentle lull settled between you, the sort of silence that wasn’t exactly awkward. It was comfortable. You two went from one tank to the next, the sound of muffled waves overtaking the sound of your own breathing. It was comfortably silent in the aquarium. 

Then, you found a reef tank.

It was massive–floor to ceiling, golden light that mimicked sunbeams through real water. Bright corals, you could’ve sworn there were some clownfish peeking out, sea anemones swayed with grace by the currents. The two of you stood in front of it, closer now without realizing at all, if it weren't feeling your hands brushing across her knuckles–you wouldn’t even think about getting too close to her.

She didn’t seem to mind, though. You were the one who stepped away, she was all too in awe of the fish. Seems like she was more interested in it than you, after all. You need to remind yourself that your relationship is fake, a PR stunt that your director thought of. Might as well make this trip worthwhile, so you try to speak up.

“Look,” You murmured, pointing to a tiny, almost transparent shrimp hidden behind two corals. “It’s a little shrimp. You can barely see it.”

You turned to Furina, trying to see if you caught her attention with that. Her gaze wasn’t on the tank.

It was at you. 

She looked at you with reason. It wasn’t a blank or distracted gaze, her eyes followed your every movement, the way you blinked, maybe the slow rise of your chest, or the way the light hit your face. Her eyes were wide, unguarded, you could almost see inside her very soul. You caught it just long enough to recognize it before she had blinked, panicked, and snapped her attention back to the tank. 

“What is it?” You asked, carefully.

Furina cleared her throat sharply, almost as if she were the one sulking. “Nothing. You had something on your face, that's all.” She gestured vaguely towards your cheek, fingers fluttering like an afterthought. Not once did she glance your way . “Lint. Crumbs. I don't know.”

You wiped your face, skeptical of her reason. “Really?”

She turned to look at you quickly, nodding too fast to be normal. “Yeah–yeah, it’s gone now.”

The fishes continued to swim in front of you, there was even a turtle waving by your peripheral, but you paid no mind. You chose to look at her for a moment longer, not saying anything. She didn’t try to meet your eyes again, instead, she fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve. A ghost of a smile present on her lips.

“I see,” You say finally.

There was no lint, or crumb. But you didn’t push the topic further.

Instead you turned back to the tank, letting the silence guide the two of you again–but this time, it felt like it changed, there were unspoken words that none of you decided to say. Like something had shifted, and not a single one tried to think about what to do about it.

“Tell me something,” Furina said suddenly, her voice quiet.

You tilt your head, looking at her once more–she still hasn’t gathered the courage to stare back. “What kind of something?”

“Anything. About you–not something in your ‘press kit.’”

You paused, a little surprised by the question. “I used to sneak out of school to sit by the riverbank. Just to listen to the water. Pretend I was anywhere else.”

“That’s so lonely. Were you a loser back then?” Furina smiled, she tried to play off her question in order not to raise suspicions.

“It was peaceful. I didn’t mind.”

She regretted her previous comment, choosing to stay silent before talking. 

“I used to lie about being afraid of the dark so someone could stay with me. A–as a kid, of course, but that wasn’t because I was scared, I just didn’t want to be alone. Neuvillette, my friend, would often accompany me.”

“That’s not lonely?” You asked gently. This was when you realized exactly that you really didn’t know the first thing about your co-actor, behind the staged expressions, there really was something human behind it all. Even though you yourself were an actor, you couldn’t believe that someone like Furina… You shook your head before the thought continued.

She shrugged, “It’s different when you choose to do it.”

“Fair enough. You know, I used to get in trouble for sneaking out. My teachers would always message my parents, "I'd get quite an earful at home.”

She laughs softly, genuine. “Yeah?”

You hum, “Yeah. There was this one time I–”

A soft buzz lit up both your phones at the same time. Simultaneous vibrations, the pings suddenly multiplying like crazy. So, you both reached for your pockets.

There it was, a new tweet from your director’s official account.

Furina grumbled, a noise coming from the back of her throat. “She did not.”

“Oh, she did,” You say, showing her your phone screen.

“Ugh,” She groaned, rolling her head. “She’s going to start printing hoodies next. I just knew this was gonna happen–I should’ve never agreed!”

But her tone wasn’t exactly annoyed. She was already typing something back, a long message to your director and to the tweet. You watched her, not just her practiced scowl, but the little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

As if the idea of more time together wasn’t quite the worst thing in the world.

Maybe it wasn’t.

You two stepped outside of the aquarium after what felt like forever. The air was colder, the night wrapped around you like a blanket. The city streets gleaming with neon signs. You pause by the exit, unsure if the evening has been a success or just an elaborate act you two put up. Still, the soft glow from the signs above makes it feel like a scene from a film–one that you and Furina are just playing out, even if no cameras were there, as cliche as it sounded.

Furina pulls out her phone, a mischievous grin on her lips. “I think it’s time for a photo. We can’t leave this place without the proof.”

“Whatever,” You waved her off.

Though, you still agree. Even if you’re getting used to how natural this whole “date for the PR” thing felt despite it all being fake. Furina walks up to a passerby, flashing a smile that has a certain calculation behind it–practiced, she’s learned how to perform even in these moments.

With a small flash, the photo was taken. The stranger hands the phone back, and Furina looks a little disgusted by the angle.

“This is not good. How exactly am I gonna post this?” 

“You won't die with one bad photo.”

“I���You–Fine! Don’t blame me if we start getting backlash because of this… This.. Poor excuse for a picture.”

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

reblogs with comments are INCREDIBLY appreciated! go scream go feral idc i will eat all of them up and run away with a familiarly shaped reblog in my mouth, thank you.

GUYS IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG UM?????? i highkey lost motivation but we ball i was supposed to put gurt in this fic but i couldnt find a proper situation to put him in......... anyway !! yay... downfall is next chapter .. thats where real angst starts ........... the taglist is still open for anyone interested !!!!!!! i am THREE chapters far from finishing this WOOHOOa

[ghouldtime]

Bit of a humorous ask. What would happen if König accidentally saw his neighbor compromised? Like, they are doing something embarrassing in their home and doesn't realize their window is open and they happened to glance up at each other at the same time 😭😭

I may or may not have been dancing to ABBA in my bathrobe and my neighbor was walking past and we made solid eye contact with each other for at least 10 seconds before we started laughing. I was in my bathrobe and my nightgown I was so embarrassed. Luckily she laughed with me and danced a little too.

(Anon, in your defense, ABBA is absolute PEAK for that kind of thing. Anyone who wouldn't do the same is either a liar or has no sense of joy in their lives. I'm glad that it was short lived embarrassment and your neighbor has a great sense of humor but still 😭)

Oh man, he'd be mortified.

His social anxiety, as well managed as it is, has him in a chokehold with those things. Second hand embarrassment is one of his worst enemies. As in, he will pause a movie and will exit it if it relies on it for "humor". It's just TOO painful for him to sit and squirm through, he hates it.

He cannot and does not want to deal with it, he'd rather pretend those things don't exist if it's that level of embarrassing. Alas life has a cruel sense of humor and things like that are bound to happen. So he goes the classic route of action: immediately diverts his eyes, pretends like he was conveniently doing something else, and acts like he never saw anything in the first place. He's never going to bring it up or mention it. Even if you swear he saw it, he won't say a word and forces it from his mind.

That being said, it really depends what it is and what happened though - because if it's something endearing where they're just enjoying themselves, living their life, it's really bad! What's "embarassing" usually depends on our own perceptions anyhow.

He may watch for a few moments with a small smile on his face before he diverts his attention before he can be caught. Since we all have those moments where we do things like that and it's a part of our nature to just be silly and to live our lives, it's something to enjoy. It's a moment of calm, normalcy, and tranquility in his otherwise tumultuous life, that he can savor because that can be gone in an instant. He knows that all too well. It's just humans being humans in the absolute best way and THAT is heartwarming and nothing to be embarrassed about. He'll cherish that and the good that he sees whenever he finds it in this world.

He's all for being yourself and enjoying life as you see fit. Go splash in those puddles, go feed the birds, go talk to the little flowers you see growing. Life is too short to waste in on worrying what others think when doing so would hinder your own. His cheeks might tinge a bit crimson if you make eye contact and he's looking away instantly, but that's not from embarrassment - those are just other, more heart warming feelings that are making him flush.

Still, he doesn't like to intrude on private moments (his curtains are usually drawn and he has privacy film on most of his windows) so you're usually going to be in the clear anyhow! But either way, nothing to be embarrassed about. He's not bringing it up either way and if it's bad, it's scrubbed from his mind. If not, he's instead doing his damn best to memorize it and cherish it, among the other small moments that you share together 💚

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Part 17: ~

Beyond Visiting Hours:

It's time for father and son to finally reunite. If only it was under better circumstances.

TW: Hospital. Coma. Medical equipment.

Part 18:

It was long after visiting hours when the trucks pulled into the hospital.

There was an eeriness to the empty car park. Only one empty police car and two ambulances were parked by the entrance. Many of the lights inside were off, and any that weren't flashed a quick shadow of a passing nurse doing the rounds.

Everyone was quiet in the trucks, especially Addair. He was nervous. For the past hour, he had stared aimlessly and thought about what he would even say. The knot in his stomach tightened. He wanted to be sick, but he wanted to see him.

'Best be quick. Before anyone asks why we're here,' Rennick whispered, breaking the silence. Caz nodded and quietly hopped out with the driver and opened the back doors. Roy and Innes noticed and did the same, but only Addair stepped out.

'Are you ready?' Caz whispered.

'No,' Addair said. 'But, I have to be.'

'Do you know where Tommy is?' Roy asked, looking over the building and mentally counting how many rooms he could see.

'Yeah. The children's ward is on the third floor.'

'Good luck, mate.'

'...Thanks...'

Addair took a deep breath and approached. He did his best to keep his body low, where he opened a window to a small cabinet filled with cleaning supplies. A vent lingered above his head. Unlike the films, they couldn't fit an entire person, but since his infection, it was as if Addair's bones had melted, and he had no trouble squeezing himself inside. He carefully moved through the dusty system, twisting and turning, climbing upwards and mentally counting which floor he was on until he finally made it.

The lights in the corridor were dim. The eerie silence had followed him. The coast was clear.

Addair dropped from the ceiling. The knot in his stomach tightened. Another deep breath.

The corridor was decorated with butterflies and flowers overlooking empty seats and a disused hospital bed. A jungle themed mural with an elephant doctor plastered the waiting room. The playroom was empty yet tidy, as if no one had even been in there for weeks. Addair knocked over a half-full paper cup of coffee. It spilt onto the same newspaper from earlier. A light over the visitor toilet flickered. The curtains were drawn. It air was stuffy.

Sneaking past the rooms that can hold multiple patients, Addair stopped at the last room on the ward. He could hear the beeping from the other side of the door. At first, he hesitated to move. His hand stopped before he could touch the handle. He closed his eyes for a moment, told himself to get a grip, and then opened the door.

The heart monitor was loud. So loud. Addair thought the noise alone could bring anyone out of a coma, especially Tommy. The boy was always a light sleeper. It drowned out the ventilator.

It was a shocking sight. Tommy's bed didn't have a curtain for privacy. Addair saw his eldest boy resting in a slight incline. A recently changed IV drip was feeding him fluid into his left hand. A ventilator connected the endotracheal tube into his windpipe. The large cylinder moved slowly with each breath, matching the monitor readings. A nasogastric tube went into Tommy's nose and down into his stomach. His catheter was half-full. Addair couldn't see, but Tommy's legs were strapped to the bed to prevent any possible injury. His hair and nails had grown out. Addair moved closer and saw a shaved section of hair that exposed a large scar. Small pieces of dried blood clung to his skin. The stitches were recently removed.

A shakey breath escaped Addair. If he still had knees, they would have buckled. Instead, he lowered his body and gently took his sons hand. He squeezed it, hoping for a response. Nothing. Waves of emotions came over him. Jennifer's reminder of his Coma Scale score entered his mind, and he knew that all the pain he felt when his body turned inside out and bulged with broken bones and melting organs, was nothing compared to Tommy's.

'Hey son,' he whispered in a broken voice. He held back his tears. 'I-' he forced an empty chuckle and wiped his eyes. 'I'm sorry it's taken me so long, but I'm here now. Your dad's here.' Another squeeze of his hand. Nothing. 'You've grown your hair out. Look like a right lady now, eh?' A pause. 'Or those rockstars you always listen to.' Then an idea. 'Hey. How about, if you wake up, I get you a guitar? You'd like that, eh? A red one. I'd make sure Elliot doesn't run off with it.' No response. Addair went quiet.

'If you wake up.'

No. No. Tommy will wake up. He has to.

Addair began to think of the last time they spoke. It was the closing week of summer. The family stood on the train station platform.

'Right you lot. I'll be back in a few months.'

'Months?!'

'Aye. Slightly longer than before. Sorry, mate.'

'You're gonna miss Christmas.'

'Just this once, lad.' Addair knelt down to meet his son's eyes. 'Which means you're the man of the house until I'm back.' Tommy smiled. 'Do you know what that means?'

'I can drink beer.'

'Well...' Addair pondered. 'Just not in front of your mother.'

'I heard that,' Jennifer called from less than two feet away. Father and son snickered like school children being caught passing notes in class. They turned away. Jennifer pulled a face.

'Now. You be good to your brothers, stay out of trouble, and help your mother around the house.'

'Do I have to cook?'

'Yes.'

'Isn't that for girls?'

'No. Cooking is an essential. Don't listen to your grandparents' shit.'

'Okay.'

'Make sure George sets the table. Richard and Elliot do their homework, and you put the bins out.'

'I will.'

'Good.'

Addair pulled Tommy into a hug before patting his shoulders. When he stepped onto the train, he waved from his seat. He watched Tommy run after the train with his brothers until the platform came to a sudden stop.

'I heard you helped your mum by cooking dinner. I told you. A little chef in the making. You'll have to tell me your secret when you wake up. And it better be soon.'

Until then, Addair will stay. He closed his tired eyes, eventually letting the urge to sleep take over.

[heartvshand]

No One Can Force Us Out of Our Pajamas Chapter 2: Coffee

No One Can Force Us Out of Our Pajamas

Chapter 1: No One Can Force Us Out of Our Pajamas

Chapter 2: Coffee

Rio picked her up around ten the next morning to ensure Evanora wouldn’t be home to notice. A wave of relief washed over Agatha upon sliding into the passenger seat of Rio’s black car with tinted windows.

“Hey,” she said, suddenly feeling a different kind of nerves.

“Hey,” Rio said, smiling. “Is it stupid that I’m kind of nervous?”

Agatha laughed and shook her head, buckling her seatbelt. “If it’s stupid, I’m right there with you.”

Rio laughed with her. “Okay, well, at least we’re both nervous. I’m sure it’ll balance out.”

She smiled, nodding. She spun the ring on her finger around with her thumb. “Yeah.”

“This coffee shop is a little far away, because I like privacy.” She turned on to the highway and headed north.

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Oh, now I’m very curious. What is this place?”

She smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. “It’s this quiet place called La Petite, and this little, old French lady runs the place. It’s really nice.”

Agatha watched the traffic and the sky and tried to imagine the place.

“And, um, it’s close to the storage unit I rent where I keep my painting and film equipment.” Rio tapped the steering wheel, nervously. “That’s how I found the place.”

“Yeah?” Agatha tilted her head, watching the nerves ooze off Rio as she drove. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and subtly shifted in the seat. Agatha noticed her black jeans and t-shirt and smiled at the stark contrast of the suit from yesterday.

Rio licked her lips. “I was filming and needed a warm drink.”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m saying all this. The point is I hope you like the place. But if you don’t, we can go somewhere else.”

Agatha reached over and gingerly placed her hand on Rio’s shoulder. “Thanks for sharing. Don’t be sorry. I like learning…real things about you. I’m sure it will be great.”

Rio took the next exit and focused on driving for a few minutes while the radio played.

Agatha tried to come up with something of her own to share. She twisted the fabric of her lightweight jacket sleeve and tried to think of anything to say.

“Um,” she said, clearing her throat. “I don’t have any secrets. I’m kinda jealous you have this whole…secret life your parents can’t take away from you. I wish I had that.”

Rio parked the car and glanced at her. She unbuckled her seatbelt and winked.  “Now you do. You’re here with me, and your mom doesn’t know.”

Agatha undid her seatbelt and met Rio around the car. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course,” she said. “That’s it over there.”

She pointed at the row of shops: a bookstore, the coffee shop, and a little bakery all wedged on to the same street.

“This is really cute,” Agatha said. “Could we go to all the shops?”

“Sure, let’s get coffee and explore.” Rio smiled.

When they headed into the coffee shop, the little, old French lady that Rio had mentioned appeared, pulling her in for a hug while Agatha watched. “Ah! Rio! Bonjour!”

She pulled away and held on to Rio’s elbows for a moment. “Oh! Who do we have here?”

Rio gestured to Agatha and said, “This is Agatha.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Agatha. I’m Leslie.” She pulled her in for a hug.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, hugging the lady back while looking at Rio with a mixture of surprise and warmth.

Once they’d ordered drinks, Rio and Agatha said their goodbyes and headed back out to explore as promised. They fell into step, wandering the bookshelves at the bookstore. Agatha scanned the titles of the books and sipped her coffee.

“This is really good,” she said.

“Yeah, she’s got the best coffee!” Rio said, biting her lip. “I’m glad you like it.”

Agatha nodded. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I don’t think I’ll be able to get coffee anywhere else ever again.”

Rio laughed and ducked her head, running her finger over the lid of her cup.

“What do you do for fun?” Rio paused briefly to pull a book out to see the cover. She slid it back inline and kept walking with Agatha.

“Oh. Um. I don’t know. I read, I guess. Play a lot of solitaire or games on my phone. I graduated college in the spring.” Agatha ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t know.”

Rio chewed on her lip. She wanted to ask other questions but thought better of it on their first real hang out. She filed away those questions for a later time.

Instead, she said, “What’s your degree?”

Agatha gave a small laugh. “Well, I had a double major. I got a degree in business and art therapy.”

Rio’s eyes went wide. “Those feel so far apart. How’d you wind up with those?”

Agatha stopped and ran her hand over a row of books. “I don’t know. My mom wanted me to major in business. I wanted to do art therapy.”

“Is that your dream job, then? Art therapy?” Rio tilted her head and leaned on the edge of the bookshelf.

Agatha turned to face her. “Maybe. I-I don’t really get to think about that. Mom alternates between wanting me in every single meeting with her and telling me to mind my own business. If your parents buy our company, then I think I’m expected to be as involved or uninvolved as you or your family want.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, careful not to spill her coffee. “I think if my mom had it her way, I’d be your trophy wife and nothing else. She’d never have to think about me again.” She paused, her mom’s voice suddenly echoing in her head. “Yesterday, she said the stupidest thing in the car after we left. She said, ‘maybe she can keep you in line,’ as if I’m unruly…as if I’m your pet or something.”

Her eyes glistened and she looked away, dabbing at her eyes quickly.

Rio frowned and pulled her into a hug. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“So, yeah, I guess, um if I could do anything, maybe it would be art therapy. But. I don’t know. It was the only thing I could get her to approve,” Agatha said, resting her head on Rio’s shoulder.  “Sorry. I-I don’t know why that all came out. I’ve never said that to anyone. It was like…word vomit. I don’t know. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Don’t be sorry. I asked, and I’m glad you shared. I’m happy you felt like you could.”  Rio held her. Her heart pounded. She hated that this was Agatha’s home life. She sighed and rubbed her back. “And for the record, I’m not keeping you in line and you’re not my pet or property. Just so you know that.”

Agatha pulled away just enough to look at her face. “Thank you.”

Rio nodded, a serious look in her eyes. “I mean it. We’re equals. I don’t care what they think or say or whatever. You’re not less than or-or a trophy…you aren’t my property just because your mom wants a merger.”

Agatha nodded, new tears stinging her eyes. “Thanks, Rio.”

“Um, I know I said I’d propose after the fifth date, but...maybe after the second or third date, you could, I don’t know…you could stay with me sometimes. It’d be at my parents’ place.” She paused and shook her head. “They’re…strict but not like your mom. They’d be cool about you staying over. Or we could get a hotel.”

She rubbed her neck with one hand while holding on to Agatha with the other. “No pressure. And we wouldn’t have to do anything. I mean, sexually. It could just be…a sleepover. No sex dungeons or whatever. Just wanted you to get some extra time away from all of that nonsense if you wanted it.”

Agatha laughed, feeling her heart swell up at the thoughtfulness. “Thanks. That would be really cool honestly.”

Rio gave a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

They untangled themselves and resumed walking through the bookstore. Once they’d made a lap, they headed for the bakery.

After they told the teen working the counter that they’d need a minute, he disappeared to the back, leaving them to look at the displays.

“What’s your favorite sweet treat?” Agatha said, eyeing the little cakes, cookies, and other desserts in the display case.

Rio scanned the rows of snacks. “Ice cream cake, as silly as that sounds.”

“Not silly at all. That’s a good one.” Agatha examined the bright, light blue counters and the checked floor tiles. “This place has character.”

“Yeah, it does. What’s your favorite?” Rio said.

Agatha laughed. “I’m not sure if this is anything, but I like throwing snickerdoodles or graham crackers in a good root beer float. It’s way too sweet and it gives me a stomachache sometimes, but I enjoy it on a hot, summer day. My favorite in the wintertime is probably a warm, fudge brownie.”

“That first one sounds very fun. I don’t know if it has a name, but I’m going to call it RBF a la Agatha. Your wintertime one is a classic.” Rio tossed her empty coffee cup in the trash and looked at the menu hanging overhead.

“RBF?” Agatha tilted her head, trying to figure out what she meant. “Oh. Root beer float?”

Rio nodded, shrugging.

Agatha laughed and shook her head, heading to the trash to toss her own empty cup. “It’s better than what I call it.”

“What do you call it?” she said.

“Agatha’s Trash Snack.” Her face warmed. “I’ve never said it out loud.”

When Agatha returned to stand next to her, she stood a little closer. Their shoulders touched as they stared at the menu together.

Agatha could feel Rio’s body jostle with the laughter. “Trash snack?”

There was amusement in her tone, not judgement, and Agatha laughed along with her.

“Yeah. I don’t know. It was just what I called it in my head.” Agatha shrugged. “It’s silly.”

“It’s definitely silly but precious.” Rio pointed to the counter. “Did you want any of this?”

“Would you split that with me?” Agatha pointed to a piece of cake.

“Sure.” Rio glanced around, looking for the worker who had left them alone.

He emerged from the back room with his hands full of cups. Rio watched him refill the cup station behind the counter and waited for him to check on them. Once he was done, he walked over and took their order.

Agatha hung back a little, nervous to see how Rio treated a stranger waiting on her. She watched Rio with him, feeling a strange relief. She was polite, treated him like a person, chatted with him, joked. She even put a tip in the tip jar. Agatha chewed on her lip, feeling a strong affection for the woman. Everything about the interaction was a stark contrast to how her mother treated “the help” or anyone she perceived as beneath her.

Rio turned around with a wide smile, holding a small plate with the piece of cake on it with two forks and napkins. “Do you want to eat inside or outside?”

Agatha blinked several times, trying to hide her smile. “Um, outside if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course. What’s with the smile?” Rio scanned her face.

“You are…” Agatha held the door open for her. “A breath of fresh air.”

Rio cocked her head to the side. She set the cake down on the table and sat down.

Agatha sat down across from her.

“What do you mean?” She handed her the other fork and a napkin.

“Thanks,” Agatha said, taking the fork and napkin. “I mean that you are really good with people. And you’re just…nice to be around and interact with. You’re…pleasant.”

Rio laughed. Her face scrunched up with amusement. “I’m pleasant?”

Agatha’s face warmed again. “Yeah. Again, my mom just sucks.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, understanding coming to her. “Oh, I see. Your mom would have been a dick in there, huh?”

“Yeah.” Agatha nodded and took a bite of the cake. She focused on her bite, deciding whether she wanted to say anything else about her mom in that moment. She shrugged and swallowed.

“This is really good cake,” she said.

Rio was chewing her first bite. She nodded and wiped her mouth. They ate the cake in silence. After several bites, Rio stood up.

“I’ll be right back.” She went inside and spoke to the guy at the counter. She came back with a bottle of water.

“We’re eating cake without anything to drink. Absolute goober move.” She took a sip from the water and then offered it to Agatha. “Oh, if you don’t want to drink after me, I won’t be offended. I can get you your own!”

Agatha took the bottle being offered before Rio could run back inside. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m assuming we’ll be expected to be seen kissing in public at some point soon. I can drink after you no problem.”

Rio laughed and sat down. “Right, right. Um, also, about that. I’ve got a clean bill of health in that department. But if it would make you more comfortable, I can get tested again.”

“Oh, right.” Agatha took her final bite of cake. “Um, yeah, we could go get tested together. I haven’t had a chance since breaking it off with Jen.”

Rio nodded, finishing off her last bite. “Okay, works for me.”

Agatha grabbed the water bottle sitting between them on the table and took another drink, taking in the cars passing by and the shops on the other side of the street. She saw a record store and gasped.

Rio jerked her head in that direction, following Agatha’s gaze. “What?”

“Could we go there?” she said, subtly pointing to the Penny’s Records.

“Oh my god, I thought something crazy had happened,” she said, laughing. “Yeah, of course. Do you like records?”

“Yeah, I’m not allowed to have a whole collection or anything, because ‘it takes up too much space’ or whatever.” She rolled her eyes, waving away the thought.

“We’ll get a record player when we get our own place,” Rio said, looking both ways before crossing the street.

Agatha walked along beside her. “Thanks. I’m really looking forward to this place of ours.”

“Me, too.” Rio noticed the way the sun caught in Agatha’s hair and refrained from reaching out to touch it as they stepped on to the shadow-ridden sidewalk. “I was thinking more about the place last night.”

“Oh yeah?” Agatha glanced at her, wondering what it would be like to hold her hand.

“Yeah,” Rio said, opening the door to the record shop. “I was thinking we could have like a front room, where it looks exactly as our parents expect. Then, if you move a particular book on the bookshelf, it opens up into our real home. Where everything is all the way we want it to be.”

With the door open, the record store had warm lighting and rows and rows of records. Agatha was so focused on the image Rio was painting that she missed the sign that said, “Watch Your Step!” right inside the front door.

Agatha stumbled, and Rio caught her quickly.

“I’ve got you.” Rio helped her regain her balance, holding on until Agatha slowly let go.

“Thank you.” Agatha gingerly stepped up and pointed down at the step. “Careful, some people trip on that their first time here.”

Laughing, Rio very mindfully took the step and linked arms with Agatha. “Mind being my buddy for the remainder of this? Just in case there are more unexpected steps.”

Agatha chuckled, sliding her eyes over to Rio. “Sure.”

“Hello, welcome to Penny’s Records. Let me know if you need anything!” An older guy with long hair said from behind a cart full of records. He was hidden behind the cart, pulling something from the bottom shelf.

“Thank you!” Rio said. “We will.”

Agatha held on to Rio’s arm, realizing it was the first time she was touching her bare skin. She swallowed and eyed the records, suddenly unable to remember how to speak. She ran her fingers over Rio’s forearm, feeling a rush at how nice it felt. She felt goosebumps break out across Rio’s skin.

Agatha glanced at her. Rio was watching her with curiosity in her eyes and a gentle smile on her lips. She quickly looked away, but her fingers were still tracing small patterns on her arm. She felt stuck in the motion.

“Sorry,” she said, quietly. “I can stop.”

“Don’t be. You’re fine.” Rio shrugged. “My body reacted. It feels nice. Don’t stop on my account.”

Agatha continued letting her fingers wander over her skin as they walked. She looked at the different records. “What’s your favorite music or musician or what do you listen to?”

She stopped in front of a set of records and riffled through with her free hand, letting Agatha keep her other arm.

She said, “Hm, that’s a tough one. I’ll give you my top three: Lana Del Rey, Taylor Swift, and Fall Out Boy. What about you?”

Agatha flipped through the records in front of her, reluctantly letting go of Rio to do so. She considered the question, unsure what to pick. Finally, she said, “Hm, my top three right now are probably Chappell Roan, Florence and the Machine, and Taylor Swift.”

Rio nodded. “Nice, those are fun.”

“Same to yours.” Agatha had stopped rummaging through the records and was staring at Rio, who had moved to using two hands for her perusal. “What are you looking for?”

Rio shrugged. “Nothing in particular, just kind of looking.”

She nodded glanced at her arm. “Nice.”

Rio noticed the glance and held her hand out for Agatha. Gently, she said, “Want my arm or my hand?”

Agatha laughed and took her hand. “Sorry. Your skin’s soft and it…felt nice.”

Rio squeezed her hand. “Don’t be sorry. I said it felt nice, too. I’ll give you my arm again in a second, okay? I wasn’t trying to tease you. I was genuinely asking your preference.”

Rio finished looking through the row of records and linked arms with Agatha. “Wanna walk over to my makeshift studio?”

“Walk?” Agatha’s eyes went wide. “Is it nearby?”

“Yeah, that’s how I found this area.” Rio didn’t comment on Agatha’s wandering fingers, but she smiled when she felt fingers sliding up her elbow and back down her forearm.

“I’d love to see it.” Agatha felt goosebumps erupt under her fingertips and smiled, following Rio out the door, both of them careful not to trip.

They rounded the corner where restaurants and shops lined both sides of the street. They wandered until the shops and restaurants turned into residential homes and businesses disguised as houses. Eventually, they came to an intersection where a storage unit facility advertised climate-controlled units.

They hurried across the crosswalk and walked through the parking lot for the facility. Rio led her to a keypad where she entered a code, causing the gate to open.

“Mine is in that building,” Rio said, pointing at a tall building near the back of the complex, behind the outside units.

“Very cool,” she said, feeling an excitement grow in her chest. Her fingers had stilled on the walk, but she continued to grip Rio’s forearm securely. She gave her arm a squeeze. “This is really exciting.”

Once they arrived at the unit, Rio pulled the door open and revealed a stack of canvases, an easel, a toolbox full of art supplies, and several black cases with padlocks on them.

“Art stuff is all the stuff that’s out, and the padlocked boxes are my cameras.” She pulled out a lawn chair and opened it. “I usually just come here by myself, so I just have the one chair, but I can get a second one if you want to have one here.”

Rio felt her neck and face warming at the suggestion; she gestured to the chair and rubbed her neck and avoided looking at Agatha. “That’s if you wanted to spend time here with me. You don’t have to, of course. I just wanted to offer.”

Agatha tilted her head, watching the other woman get flustered. She licked her lips.

“That would be great, Rio. I’d love to spend time with you here. But hopefully, it won’t be for long. Hopefully, we can find a house quickly.”

Rio spun around and faced her, dropping her hand from her hair. “Right!”

Rio’s smile was so bright that it caused Agatha to smile back just as big. Agatha felt the urge to be near her. She stepped forward and hugged Rio, who hugged her back enthusiastically, as the breath got knocked from her just a little.

“What’s this for?” Rio said, catching her breath.

“For being endearing.” Agatha breathed in deeply, holding on to her tightly.

Rio held her, rubbing her back gently. She looked around the unit and wondered what it would be like to have her own studio at home.

[redheadspark]

Barry Keoghan March Prompt 2 please and thank you 💙

A/N - Aww this is adorable! I made this nice and short and cute for you to read, I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!

Hold

Summary - Barry loves holding your hand

Warning - Just fluff :)

“Alright, how does your month look for our holiday?” 

“Looks, good. The awards season is done and I have a solid month open before my next project,”

“Perfect!  And….done, we’re officially going on holiday,”

Barry chuckled as you slammed the Laptop shut in relief, he reached over to lace your fingers together from across the tiny coffee table between the pair of you.  The rest of the shop was mostly deserted, except for a few patrons who were working on their own computers or reading. With the pattering of rain and the sun attempting to push through the storm clouds that were rolling by, you and Barry wanted to hide out in a coffee shop and have some one-on-one time together.  It was one of your favorite coffee shops, you found a spot tucked away from the windows and out of the public eye since Barry was not being recognized out and about.  He loved his stardom, he truly did, but he also loved having time away from set or paparazzi could be your boyfriend.

One of his favorite things to do with you was hold your hand.

Sure it seemed like it was such a simple thing to do, but he loved having your hand in his.  Anytime he could, he would hold your hand and keep it tucked tight.  Walking together shoulder to shoulder, watching a movie together cuddled on the couch, even falling asleep together when he would cuddle you close in his embrace.  Something about having your hand in his, it felt like Ana char for him with how fast things were moving in his life.

“Where are we goin’?” He asked you as you took a long sip from your latte.

“Not going to tell you,” You hummed as an answer, seeing him cock up an eyebrow at you, “As someone who has connections to travel agents, this holiday is going to be amazing for us.  Just be prepared to dress for warmth,”

“Ah, so I need my speedo?” He joked, and you giggled as he grinned from ear to ear.

“You would want to bring your speedo when we go under the sun,” You teased, “But you can’t get a sunburn or else your publicist will kill me,”

“Eh, she won’t do a thing to you,” Barry reassured you as he scooted over to be right next to you, wrapping a spare arm around your shoulders to tuck you in a bit closer next to him.  Your hands were still connected on top of the table, his thumb stroking your skin back and forth along our hand as he spoke again, “She’s a great publicist, but wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I know, that’s why I like her: she's kind but she keeps you in check when you’re away,” You explained, Barry kissing the top of your head.

“You make it seem like I’m a bad boy,” he commented, though he saw you smile as he poked your side, “You think I am, don’t ya?”

“Never said that,” You replied with a laugh as he poked your side again. Barry loved this banter between the pair of you, ever since you met two years ago thanks to a mutual friend who introduced the pair of you at a wrap party from one of his independent films.  Barry instantly liked you, from how you laughed at one of the corny pickup lines another bloke tried on you, to how you were asking him plenty of questions about acting and what method he liked the best.  He could tell you genuinely liked him as a person, not as an actor or a movie star.  He asked you for your number, and you two have been a pair since then.

He was an actor who thrived and craved privacy, especially when it came to his personal life.  He wanted to have his relationship with you as private as possible, not wanting to have public dates or extravagant vacations.  In fact, he was the opposite, wanting to find little tucked-away restaurants to eat at or small getaways with no prying eyes.  He saw now that acting life can tear families and relationships apart, and the one main thing he never wished for was to have his life with you tainted and ruined.  But you never cared, not when you had your own life to deal with and your workload keeping you busy most days.

Still, little by little, you were known as his girlfriend.  Barry taking you to a couple of premiers, dropping your name at interviews and talk shows, even walking with you side by side with the paparazzi catching the image at the right moment.  He could see that you were no wallflower when it came to being in the spotlight from time to time.  Sometimes the gossip columns and tabloids did get to you once or twice, but you were they were lies and not even close to the truth.  

Barry loved having your hand in his when times were tough or when he was too stressed, It brought him inner peace and tranquility.  If he could, he would hold your hand all the time and never let you go.  Sure it seemed possessive, but he didn’t care. Barry cared about you and how you moved him from the inside out.  Even seeing pictures of the two of you holding hands out in public, at a premiere or a party would always put butterflies in his stomach and make his heart swell.  

He never felt like this with any other girlfriend, not for a long time.  

“So, this warm holiday, am I going to be seeing you in a gorgeous swimsuit?” He asked you in a coy tone.

“Maybe, along with some of my favorite books to read and plenty of sunshine for the pair of us to share together,” You explained, “And it’s going to be at least 5 days too, so pack plenty of clothes…or not.��

“Hey!” He snorted, the pair of you laughing at the light antics between you two in your booth. He looked down at your joined hands, feeling the warmth of your palm against his own and your soft hands against his calloused fingers.  He knew he wanted to hold your hand forever and beyond that as well.  

Inwardly, he was glad that you planned this holiday out for the pair of you to enjoy.  He had other plans that he was going to make with you, given the small ring box that he stored away in his dresser drawer back at his flat.  He dreamed of placing a tiny diamond on your finger, for some time actually. 

But you planning the holiday made it just a pinch sweeter.

The End

Spring Prompt Session

[iloveamberfreeman]

BLUE BEETLE DR. AVI XX

"365 PARTY GIRL"

Who?

I'm filled with nostalgia, love, sugar, and peppers.

Raised in San Antonio TX but later on moving to El Paso when I was around 4, I have spent most of my life in San Antonio and El Paso. I went to school in Palmera from elementary to highschool, going to UTSA for a major in film. I am currently staying in Palmera City, where I live in a neighborhood that is near the 'rich' side of the city.

During 1st grade I met one of my best friends, Jaime, who I keep in contact with. We're incredibly close, we meet up about every day or so, he is either extremely busy or not busy at all. Kinda weird but wtv. Later on in 5th grade I met another one of my best friends, [reacted for privacy!!].

I am a part time film director and full time hyper friend, who jumps from movie set to movie set during work to sitting on her sofa doom scrolling. Occasionally crashing at friends house.

My interests include shopping, films, guitar, hanging out with friends, and music. Currently I am on break from my director job since I have recently finished filming a movie, called 'Companion'. Ever heard of it? Super good, trust me, I was on set >_<

Most of my time is spent blogging on here (yes I share this tumblr account in all my realities so hi!) and spending time with family and friends. The majority of my time is spend helping out friends at their job or simply just hanging out with them.

Friends?

Jaime Reyes : A sweet boy I meet in elementary, we quickly become friends after we ended up playing hide and seek at the playground. Later on in middle school we shared up to 5 periods each year, and in highschool almost half my schedule was filled with classes that he had. We're very similar, both of us actually being ENFP's and obsessing over comics and movies. After we went our separate ways for college, we both ended up going back to Palmera City. We're close friends, I occasionally take him out to restaurants so I can leak story ideas to him, even though I offer to pay he always manages to pay first somehow. I was unaware that he was Blue Beetle until he literally crashed through my window at two am in the suit. That scared the living shit of me.

Ani Mikheeva : One of my friends I met during a trip to Brooklyn, NY. We had gone to the HQ nightclub to film a scene for a project, where I met Ani. She told me her experiences working as a dancer, ie stripper, I was able to make the project more realistic thanks to her. I made sure to keep in touch with her, sometimes she visits Texas so I make sure to pick her up and spend some time with her. I'll often go to NYC for funnies, just so I can see her and we can go shopping.

Jenny kord : I'm not too close with her, but Jaime introduced me to her a while back and I think we got along well (in my opinion). I've meet her a couple times on my way to an office, she's so friendly. Honestly any friend of Jamie's is a friend of mine so.

other friends have been redacted due to privacy !!

hobbies?

Guitar : I've been playing guitar since 6th grade, acoustic to be exact. I play a bit of electric but I use my acoustic one the most. My acoustic guitar is a deep reddish-brown, I have two electric guitars. One of them is a red with lipstick marks, it's a reference to Sabrina Carpenter!! My other electric guitar is black and white with stars.

CDs/DVDs/Vinyls : I am a hugeee collector of physical media, I have three whole shelves dedicated to physical media. I have my favorite movies on DVD including "Parasite", "Scream", "Karate kid", and way more. For CDs I have a shit ton, all organized in alphabetical orders by the artist. Vinyls, I have all of Lana Del Rey's albums and more. Jaime actually gifted me quite a few dvds and cds he found at a thrift shop :3

Painting : I love painting, I honestly can't remember when I started to paint since it's been a long time. I took art in middle school but hated it, so I quit after a year. I started painting at home often because Hobby Lobby was like 20 minutes away so I went there often. Personally, I like painting anything but not objects. I paint mostly in a Renaissance art style. I painted a portrait of Ani in this style and she went berserk!! I also made a painting of the Khaji Da for Jaime.

Shopping : okay I don't care what anyone says shopping is a hobby and an addiction so let me get that clear. I spend the majority of my time shopping online and in person. Thrift shops are also my go-to but sometimes the malls in the 'rich'. I love bringing my friends to shop with me, even if we just end up window shopping. I literally drag Jaime to the mall over the weekends when he's not busy. I will make him carry all my bags, then we'll stop at a comic store and buy a few. Maybe get some ice cream if I'm hungry.

other things about me?

I am bisexual, yes I go both ways. I'm 21, the legal drinking.

Strawberry cookie butter crepe addict perfume collector

I always smell like Sabrina Carpenter's 'Sweeth Tooth'. she/her

Letterbox nerd. Flirty. ENFP. Jaime's bff. Ani's babygirl.

Perfect vision. Hyper. Unprofessional chef. 7 different aesthetics

Party girl. 5:4 chipmunk girl. Bambi energy. Charli xcx vibe. yay.

cat Amber Freeman. Dark dark brown hair with rainbow tinsel.

I am your dream girl. Tumblr girl. Indian American. Only child.

[labialockercolourised]

Ultra-modern tasteful gay-core Sims 4 Phouse (or rather, my take on a Phouse)

I love building in the Sims and I felt inspired to build a house based off what Dan has shared he likes in decor. Then I thought what even was the point of building a house inspired by Dan if Phil is not a part of it, so I built a phouse. I think I demolished my build around 5 times before I finally got something I was happy with.

Also check out @danisnotonfirebrand's Phouse build as well as @vampiregway's Dan and Phil Sims :D I used a fair amount of cc (Harrie and Felix, Myshuno Sun, Pierisim, The Clutter Cat, My Cup of CC)

Here's the house from the front. There are minimal windows on the outer sides of the house largely for privacy reasons. I still didn't close off the front of the house because aesthetics and it is the Sims

Here's a top-down view of the house and the floorplan. The house is constructed in a C-shape around a central courtyard with a Japanese oak in the center. This allows for floor-to-ceiling windows and an indoor-outdoor feel/view of nature without compromising on privacy.

The entryway and hallways are fairly minimal, I didn't want to clutter them up with too much furniture. The downstairs toilet and stairs are housed in the entryway. The black walls carry up to the first floor. This is also the first time I've used that side table from Blooming Rooms

The sexy, moody watercloset. POV you're shitting. I ended up using the labia lights...they're funny but also...some of the best ceiling lights in the game. Sorry for the fish-eye in a few of these screenshots, it was the only way

The hallway comes off the entryway and leads to the kitchen. It also houses the doorway to the office and an exit the courtyard with a moss lawn

The office.... I'll be honest, I didn't do much with the office. There is a "video station" but it's ugly and didn't fit so I didn't use it. I didn't feel like creating a filming set-up either ( Designer chair #1 (Grete Jalk Bow Chair)

The kitchen. They used the barstools from Harrie in the new sims house and that made me happy so I used them here too. Sexy under-cabinet lighting, a coffee bar, a spacious island, a view to the outside, and an indoor plant wall. I'm not showing the pantry because..boring, but it's there

The dining room... I realised trying to put the grand piano in the living room was way too ambitious and the dining room was looking a bit bare, so it ended up in the dining room.

The living room. Look, I built the house with a picture window in the living room to frame the Christmas tree from the outside so here's a shot with the tree and without the tree. It feels a bit bare to me but it was also the last room I decorated (Samsung framed TV) (Designer Chair #2 (Eames Loung chair))

Upstairs hallway/stair landing. Another picture window this time actually framing a view of the outside as opposed to the inside. A built-in succulent planter. Also leads to the only bathroom and the front balcony

The bathroom. This room was such a pain and I'm still not fully satisfied with it but alas (there was not enough wall space for all the towels). A large walk-in shower, a backlit mirror, closed storage under the sink, and a bathtub in front of a window overlooking the courtyard. (I chose the largest tub I could find even though it doesn't matter since all sims are the same height

Phil's bedroom. Went for more colour in here. The tiny twavellers tree bookcase has a lion plushy on one of the shelves :D Also I wanted just the slightest hints of post-modern design. Look, I know they said they're "carpet in the bedroom" kind of people, but I simply refuse, so I gave them fluffy rugs instead.

Phil's room has a balcony with a lounger and a small fountain which overlooks the green roof over the dining room.

Dan's bedroom. I regret not being able to fit walk-in closets but oh well. Instead of a balcony, this room has a fireplace (I figured it was best to not give Phil the room with the fireplace), there is a balcony right outside this bedroom tho, so that's basically Dan's balcony. Also the ZZ plant whoops. (Designer Chair #3 (Eames rocking chair))

[kaiso-woo]

Sunshine to the Moon

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> Masterlist　

PART 4 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 4.2k | Synopsis: Slice of Life, another night after closing shop. Your Café has gotten busier thanks to that Skz-Code Episode filmed there finally being released. Tonight however, Chris is here to brighten the night. This is the first time you both admit to loving each other by the way - but it’s cute I promise.

Notes: FLUFF, Angst (if you squint, and I mean really squint), Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, Barista!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Cringe Cringe-Cheesy-Corny-Slight Suggestiveness-Insufferable Flirt (Thanks Chris), Shirtless!Chan (IT’S BED TIME), Swearing, Pet Names Used (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Sweetie, Love), Kisses (Duh)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition - NOT MENTIONED IN THIS PARTICULAR FIC

PART 4

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

—

It’s been another tiring day. Perhaps even more chaotic than ever before. Chris had given you warning, but JYPE had only just released the Skz Code Episode that they filmed ages ago here. Chris had argued to have it released at a later date, to protect your privacy and give you more time to live normally before things suddenly changed.

He was right of course, with Stay’s being the detectives they are, and Stray Kids being the famous idols they are, your Café was soon discovered, and before long you had a stream of customers flowing in and out practically around the clock. They’d take photos where the members sat, ask if they left messages around the place, ask you so many questions about them that you didn’t feel you had the right to answer.

Even with Ashley by your side, doing her best to help keep the business afloat on a daily basis things were strained. You’ve just recently set up an application process for new employees because dear lord, you needed them. Ashley even suggested adjusting your usual policy, which you were hesitant to do at first, but eventually caved at the exhaustion evident in your poor, younger friend and employee. 

Customers were no longer allowed to stay overnight, and you closed at 11pm rather than 1am now. It was perhaps your least favourite thing to do – going around to wake up sleeping customers when it was time to close shop. Chris was right, Ashley is bright… and awfully considerate. She even considered that it’d be beneficial for your relationship with Chris, closing shop early, so you can spend more time together when he’s here.

Naturally, Chris can no longer help you at the coffee machine, even if he wears a full disguise, Stay’s would recognise him immediately. Whenever he visits, he can’t do much except lounge around in your upstairs apartment. It pains you to have to lock him up, but both of you know you can’t risk a scandal. Previously, Ashley would be able to hold the fort, allowing you and Chris to escape out on a little date, but not now… now you’re too busy to leave Ash by herself. You really really need new employees. Preferably people who aren’t Stay’s… so you can explain your relationship with Chris and not have them leak any information. 

This… this is too much.

–

You sigh and rest your forehead on the cold glass of the window. You’re meant to be pulling down the shutters, having finally kicked James out of your Café. As per usual, he was asking too many questions, wondering why you’re suddenly so busy. He asked you out again the other day, and you finally snapped. You told him, straight and clear, that you were taken. In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea, because he now spends a lot of his time asking you who you’re dating; of course, you can’t tell him.

A pitiful groan rumbles through your throat, and you try to quell the hurricane of thoughts swirling incessantly in your mind. The chill of the glass is a small reprieve, but it still hurts to think.

“Jagiya… baby, are you okay?” someone calls out to you. Your heart leaps into your throat at the endearment, and you muster the energy to spin yourself around, eyes lazily falling onto the man standing at the bottom of the staircase, his face distorted in concern.

“Another boring day for you, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, Chris,” you murmur, dragging yourself towards him with your head drooping. He meets you halfway, immediately pulling you into a tight embrace and placing an affectionate kiss on the top of your head, “Sweetie it’s okay. I’m perfectly happy to work on our songs all day.”

You sigh into his shirt and twist the fabric in your hands desperately, your heart aching, “You might be but I’m not…” you pull away so you can see his face and pout sadly, “You’re meant to be here on break, not working away.”

His soft smile causes your heart to melt, the ache only intensifying after he pecks your nose with a delicate kiss, “Jagi. You’re working, so why can’t I?”

You frown at him and lightly thump your forehead into his chest several times, frustrated, “We both shouldn’t be working.” His hand drifts up to knot itself in your hair, stopping your actions, “Shhh shh, don’t be like that baby.” You grumble and pull away from him properly, but not before he swoops in to kiss your cheek. 

“It isn’t so bad… once you finish closing up we can hang out, yeah?” his eyes are sparkling mischievously, and you sigh in resignation, knowing that he’s right. You turn to finish closing the shutters, and Chris continues to talk, “Besides, I’m the one who should be apologising…” The shutter hits the ground with a little click, “Why?”

“If I hadn’t asked to film that episode here your business would never have gotten this busy,” he frowns, absently fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie. You swivel on your heel and stalk up to him, “Don’t-” you lightly pinch his arm, “-you say that. Ever.”

Chris smiles shyly down at you, his gaze sorrowful, guilty. You shake your head at him, grab his wrist and tug him along up the stairs, “Come on, you go wash up and I’ll whip up a late dinner, if you haven’t eaten already.” 

Chris pushes ahead of you suddenly, opening your apartment door with an elegant twist of the door handle, “There’s no need baby, dinner’s in the fridge. I’ll heat your share up for you.”  You blink at him in confusion, but he merely grins back at you. “You… cooked me dinner?”

Chris snatches at your waist and pulls you in for a swift kiss, stunning you, “Anything to make your life easier.”

–

After half an hour of arguing with Chris about why he shouldn’t have cooked dinner for you (in which you only shut up after he physically shoved food into your mouth), you’re now sitting comfortably in your bed, blankets pulled over your knees, as your eyes skim the page of the book you’re reading. Chris insisted you wash up first, so you’re currently waiting for him to finish up in the bathroom.

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday isn’t it?” He asks, emerging from the bathroom in only his boxers. Your eyes briefly flicker from your book to the defined lines of his abs, before you return to nonchalantly reading, “Yeah. Café’s closed tomorrow.” “You can look longer you know,” Chris grins, his arms crossed over his chest. “Shut up,” you grumble back, turning to the next page of your book.

Chris giggles happily and crawls into the bed next to you, his arms immediately taking residence around your waist despite you sitting upright. “Mmh you smell good,” he mumbles, and you spare him a glance. His nose is buried in your shirt, his hair askew over his eyes. Carefully, you brush the curls away, and he snuggles even closer, “I just showered.” 

Chris’ voice comes out muffled, “Okay and? I just showered and I don’t smell as good as you.”  This elicits a small chuckle from you, “Maybe you should start using my products then.” He inhales obnoxiously and then sighs in content, “I think I will.”

“Chris, I’ll be back, I've got to turn the lights off,” you murmur, massaging his scalp briefly. He only tightens his hold on you, a little whine escaping, “No. You stay.” “Baby let me go please.” “No.” “You literally left them on.”  Chris sighs and rolls away from you, his displeasure evident on his face, “Fineeee.”

You roll your eyes at him and pad over to the bathroom, hyper aware of your boyfriend watching your every movement. He sits up as you amble over to turn off the light for the bedroom, your thumb holding the current page in the book you’re reading. Finally, in the darkness, you fumble around for the lamp beside your bed so you can continue reading for a little longer. Its warm glow reveals Chris still watching you, a half-smile, half-smirk plastered on his face.

As you crawl back into bed and try to get comfortable, Chris chuckles and leans his head back onto the headboard, “You might as well call me that lamp,” he begins, eyes boring into the ceiling as though something fascinating was up there.

“Why…?” you pause, preparing yourself for the inevitable joke you’re about to hear. Chris grins evilly, and tilts his head towards you lazily, “Because you turn me on.” You hiss and make to whack him on the head with your book, but his reflexes kick in and he swiftly grabs your wrist.

“Oh I knew you were going to do that,” he laughs, leaning over so he can kiss a trail of warmth down your trapped arm. Your eyes are wide as he grins sinfully up at you, his tongue poking his cheek playfully. “Go to bed you little shit,” you gripe, yanking your wrist away from him and turning the lamp off in a rash decision. 

At least he can’t see the crimson blush on your face now.

“Awh… you don’t want to read anymore?” he mocks, his arms finding home around your waist again, pulling you in close so he’s spooning you, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Nope. We’re sleeping now,” you demand, linking one of your hands with one of his that’s on your stomach.

The pair of you settle into silence, your mind drifting off into haze at the steady sound of Chris’ breathing, the rise and fall of his chest pressed against your back. You’ve been absently tracing his knuckles, trying to memorise the specific rise and fall of each, and the spacing between them. After a while, you stop, not because you want to, but because your mind has fallen deep into that state of fuzziness between almost falling asleep and being barely conscious.

“Is it possible to get… water hungry?” Chris murmurs, dragging you out of your semi-slumber. “Hmm?” you croak, as Chris adoringly rubs his nose on the back of your neck, making you shiver. You can feel him grin at your reaction, and you’re half tempted to shove him away from you so you can sleep in peace.

“Water hungry. Is that a thing?” he repeats, and the question properly registers in your brain.  You frown and shimmy yourself around, so your noses are now touching. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you squint to try and see his eyes in the darkness, “Do you mean thirsty?” 

A small smile cracks onto your face when Chris inhales sharply and stops breathing. After a loud silence, he makes a noise of embarrassment, and you giggle lightly. “I think I’m tired,” he whispers, trying to inch himself even closer to you. “Then go to sleep,” you scoff, closing your eyes again. “Can’t,” he bites back. “Why not?”

“You’re not hugging me,” Chris’ leg shifts to tangle itself in between yours, and after another little giggle, you wrap your arms around his waist, resuming your soothing rubs on his back this time. “Your hands are cold,” he complains against your lips.

“Then put on a damn shirt.”  “Awh but you like it when I’m not wearing one.” Stomach swooping, you blow sharply on his face in feigned annoyance, causing him to draw back slightly with a laugh. “Go to fucking sleep,” you say once more, because clearly he didn’t understand you the first time.

–

Later on in the night, the bathroom summons you, and with a quiet grumble, you roll yourself out of bed. Thankfully, Chris has drifted over to his side of the bed in his sleep and doesn’t have himself tangled around you. Carefully, you click on your lamp and tiptoe to use the toilet. 

When you’re done, you decide you don’t really want to go back to bed yet. Instead, you crawl over to sit cross-legged on the floor, analysing your boyfriend’s face in the half-light of the room. He’s snoring gently, his lips slightly parted. Your heart softens at the way his cheek is squished up against his arm, strands of his curly hair clinging adorably to his forehead.

You hoist yourself up onto your knees and brush the strands back, heart swelling as your gratitude for his existence threatens to tumble out of your mouth. No, you must stay quiet. Don’t wake him, he needs to sleep. You’re still stroking his hair back softly, your thumb brushing his forehead delicately when his snoring stops.

You gulp and pull away from him, hurrying back around the bed so you can crawl back under the covers, Chris’ back to you. Still, you don’t turn the lamp off, not entirely finished with admiring him, even from behind. His back is slightly exposed to you after you had pulled the covers down to get out of bed, and you make no move to hide it again. 

It’s in this moment, smiling gently at his figure, your heart full to the brim, that you realise it all over again. He’s yours. You’re his. You’d die for this man. You’d play limbo with the devil just to crawl your way back up to him. You’d pledge your life to counting the stars if he so asked. It doesn’t matter that it would take forever, because your forever lies within him.

You shuffle closer, and after a brief hesitation, begin to happily trace the lines of his back muscles, relishing in the softness of his skin. You pause, checking to make sure he’s still sleeping, and then continue your drawing motions. You’re lost in thought, thinking about where you could possibly take him out to tomorrow because you’re finally free. Your gaze is watching your fingers absently move, but you’re not really paying attention. It’s after a minute of repeating the same action that you realise what you’ve done.

Subconsciously, you’ve been writing the same words over and over on his back. You stop, fingers ghosting his skin, and swallow. Then one more time, confirming it for yourself, you rewrite the same words.

I Love You

You do. You love him. You love- you love him. This sudden understanding causes you to gasp slightly, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You trace the lines again, a little faster this time, fully picturing the words on his back. 

Chris abruptly rolls over, his eyes immediately boring into yours, and your hand snaps up to your mouth in an attempt to stifle your surprise. He’s smiling softly, eyes crinkling in delight.vSlowly, he reaches for the hand covering your mouth, opening your palm out to him. With a single finger, he lightly traces your palm, and you realise almost instantly that he’s writing letters, one by one. 

He's nibbling his bottom lip slightly in concentration, and when he finishes, his eyes flicker back up to you. You know of course, exactly what he’s written there, each stroke of his finger sending the letters jolting towards your heart. You had just spent the past few minutes writing the exact same thing on his back. You’re still silent though, trying to process, mind whirring faster than it ever has before. Chris takes your silence as confusion and begins to write the words again, as gentle as the first time.

He's halfway through writing “love” when you slip your wrist out from his hand and promptly bury your face into his chest, hands snaking around his back tightly.

“Are you serious?” you whisper, curling up on yourself, face burning. “Are you?” he whispers back, caressing the back of your head. You pull away from him and sit up, eyes wide with shock. He stares right back at you, waiting for your answer, his dark eyes searching yours. You lean down and peck his forehead, “I love you,” then his right cheek, “I love you,” his nose, “I love you,” his chin. 

You kiss him everywhere you can possibly reach from his shoulders up, avoiding his lips for whatever instinctive reason, repeating those same words over and over again, a mantra.  Your actions reduce Chris to a mess of giggles and happy laughs, “Okay, okay, okay!”

He grabs the back of your head and roughly pulls you in for a real kiss, but his lips are soft against yours, tender. When you pull away, your lips still linger, and it is like this that you feel and hear him say the disastrous words back, “I love you too.” Your laugh comes out as a breathy giggle, and suddenly you’re kissing him again, everywhere you can. “Baby, baby,” he laughs, “Stop it.”

But you can’t. You literally, physically can’t. Somehow you’ve managed to crawl on top of him, straddling his bare chest. Chris grabs your shoulders and pushes you up, grinning at you from below, “Since when were you this affectionate?” he coos, hands sliding over to cup your face and squish your cheeks. You roll your eyes at him and press on his chest lightly, again, feigning annoyance.

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs with a dopey expression, “My love is adorable.” “Shut up,” you whine, collapsing on top of him and hiding in his neck. My love. My love. My fucking love. “I love you. So much. And you love me back,” Chris laughs, wrapping his arms securely around you, “Wow! You love me back. Wow… This is the best day of my life.” “I said shut up,” you grumble.

–

You wake in the darkness, mind immediately tracking back to your moment of “I love you’s” earlier, butterflies swirling intensely in your stomach. Then you realise the reason you’ve woken up in the dead of night again, is because Chris isn’t sleeping with his arms around you. You roll over and find him sitting up in bed, his headphones snug around his ears, forehead creased in concentration as he clicks away on his laptop. You sit up and place your chin on his shoulder, staring at him with googly eyes. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Chris mumbles, turning his head slightly. “What’re you doing awake?” you ask, carefully slipping the headphones off his head to rest around his neck. “Mmh… inspiration struck me, so I wrote a new song,” his eyes haven’t left his computer screen, even without his headphones on he continues to work.

“Chris it’s 2am,” you sigh, taking over the touchpad to check the time in the top right hand corner, “go back to sleep, love.”  He inhales sharply and fully turns towards you, a slow grin emerging, “You see, that is exactly why I cannot sleep.” You blink at him in confusion, and he elaborates, “You can’t just brush my hair out of my face, spend the next five minutes writing ‘I love you’ over and over again on my back, pepper me with a billion kisses, and then expect me to sleep.”

You grin shyly at him, your head drooping, “Now you’re just making me feel bad because I fell asleep.” “No. No that is not what I-” You interrupt him by reaching over and sliding his computer out of his hands. Carefully, you hit the command to save his work, eyes briefly skimming over the saved title ‘For My Love’. 

“You were inspired to write a song for me?” you chuckle, closing the laptop and removing his headphones from his neck.  Carefully, you place them both on your bedside table, and grope around to pull him down into the bed. You can tell by how warm his face is when you press close that he’s blushing.

“So what if I was?” he asks. “So… I think you’re really cute, but your love wants you to get more sleep,” you giggle, pulling his head underneath your chin.  “Okay…” he mumbles, breath growing laboured with sleep.

–

Chris wakes with his nose buried in your hair, and he immediately grins. He abandons your warmth to grab his phone and check the time. It’s just past 9am, you both should really get up and get going, but he doesn’t particularly feel like it. You roll onto your back in your sleep, and a mischievous glint catches his eye when he notices your shirt hike up a little, revealing your bare stomach.

Chris swiftly scampers into the adjacent office, plucks a random marker from your desk, and then carefully crawls back onto the bed, doing his best to not wake you. He lifts your shirt up a little higher, then with his tongue sticking out, uncaps the marker and writes the message ‘Chris was here!!’ on your stomach, complete with his little dino-worm drawing.

Just as he’s finishing up, you groan and your eyes flutter open, noting the sharp prod of something on your stomach. In a second however, it disappears, and Chris has crawled on top of you. He moves to kiss your cheek, but still hazy with sleep, you don’t register what he’s doing and accidentally move your head.

What was meant to be a wholesome good morning peck turns into a surprising peck on the lips. You stare at him with wide eyes, and his cheeks immediately bloom red. You grin at how embarrassed he is and lean up to give him a legitimate kiss good morning. You’re both grinning like idiots now, and you’ve completely forgotten about whatever it was that Chris was doing on your stomach earlier.

Exactly Chris’ plan. Distraction… successful.

“Good morning sunshine…” he happily chirps, the familiar endearment causing you to smile happily. This time though, you have an idea. “Good morning moonlight,” your smile intensifies as Chris pauses, stunned, and you wriggle your way into a seated position, forcing him to do the same.

“Moonlight?” he questions, his voice cracking slightly in the early morning. “Yeah. Moonlight. ‘Cause even in the darkness you still shine.” Chris blinks at you, then after a second, grabs your arm to pull you into his lap, “Okay sure,” he pecks the top of your head, a favourite action of his, “but you got one thing wrong. If you’re my sunshine and I’m your moonlight… then I shine because you do.”

You laugh and let Chris drag you both under the blankets again, hugging you tightly as if his life depended on it. After a minute of tranquil silence, you yawn, stretch and move to get up and out of bed. Chris doesn't crack open an eye as he grabs your head and forces you back down into the pillow, causing you to yelp.

“Chris! We’ve got to get up now,” you chide, pushing yourself back up and glaring at him. He’s smirking cheekily but his eyes are still closed, and you shake your head at him, “C’mon.” "Who says we have to get up?” he asks, finally staring back at you.

“I do.” You demand, and a little staring contest is initiated, neither of you blinking. Chris begins to pull faces and tease you, but you refuse to give in to his antics. “Okay fine fine,” he relents, “I’m getting up. But come here first.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Please,” he adds with a tiny nod. Bewildered, you shuffle over to him, only to scream in shock when he swiftly grabs your shirt and pulls it up over your head. The act is so out of the blue, and he’s unnecessarily strong that you can’t do anything about it. He runs off with your shirt and you curse, chasing him out of the bedroom and into the lounge room.

Chris grins like a mad man, sticking his tongue out at you from the other side of the couch. “Give me my shirt you fucking rascal,” you spit, but you’re grinning just as hard.

“Come and get it,” he teases, waving it around like it’s a flag. You move to one side of the couch, and he moves to the other. You both run in circles around the couch, giggling and yelling. Eventually, out of breath and panting, Chris laughing his heart out with his hands resting on his knees, you decide that this game should come to an end. While he’s occupied, you leap over the top of the couch and tackle him to the ground.

“Oh shit-” Chris wheezes as you wrangle your shirt out of his fist. You’re about to put it back on, when Chris sits up and stops you, struggling to talk properly through his laughter, “Hang on, babe wait. Look down.”

You do, your arms up in the air, halfway through the sleeves of your shirt. It takes you a moment to read his little message, and then with a yell, you use your shirt to whack him repeatedly.

His laughter doesn’t cease even after he’s pulled you on top of him to stop your playful, indignant hits. “God I love you,” he chokes out, resting his head back onto the floor, “Don’t rub it off, leave it there for the rest of today.” “I love you too, but I can’t leave it there, what if people see?” “Who’s going to see it underneath your shirt?” “What if I wanted to wear something cropped today?” “Then wear something cropped. Let the whole world know who you belong to.” “Chris. You know I can’t do that.” “Mmh but I want the whole world to know.” “Christopher.” “Fine fineeeee, okayyyyy. Just don’t wear anything cropped then. Want one of my hoodies?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> PART 5 　 -> Masterlist

A/N: Yay! Milestone Event 4 Check!

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read! - Kaisowoo

[sloshed-cinema]

Emilia Pérez (2024)

Because this movie has enjoyed a bafflingly successful awards season from Cannes onward, it’s no surprise that this film is a complete disaster. This moves beyond simple Oscar bait to become truly audacious in just how comprehensively it fails to do anything that it sets out to achieve. There should be consequences for subjecting audiences to this. The lowest hanging fruit and greatest crime is that Emilia Pérez is a musical. There are songs. And a lot of them. So many. So many bad ones. Why this decision was made confuses me. The music and lyrics aren’t even worthy of a regional tour of a failed Off-Off-Off Broadway play. Lines repeat endlessly, pointlessly. Words stress and strain to rhyme with one another. Most songs follow a similar call and response type structure, a declarative comparison and contrast of ideas which emphasize the characters’ challenges with this corrupt world of criminal cartels and corrupt politicians. But the songs don’t accomplish anything. No action moves forward during any songs, and the audience do not understand the emotions of any characters any better from start to end. Each song, whether describing a manipulated court case’s outcome or the malaise of a drug kingpin’s wife, becomes a simple “I want” type of song. It’s difficult to describe bad lyrics, but the best I can say is that I felt embarrassed for anyone who had to sing or rap in this film. Extras rush in to add a half-hearted attempt at color and pizzazz to big numbers, but the rigid choreography and baffling production design choices hamper any clarity. Selena Gomez runs from her bedroom to a strange black void where Stomp dancers are gyrating or sings karaoke in front of a screen copying images into infinity. Zoe Saldaña slinks among the tables of elite donors at a benefit, clambering on tables and rubbing fake wig hair on her crotch. There are too many terrible songs in the first act, and then practically none in the end, which is almost a blessing in disguise but for the fact that everything that follows is so preposterous that all of the kidnappings and mutilations and in-fighting would almost make more sense if done in song. 2021’s Annette looks like a Sondheim-tier masterpiece by comparison. I guess Leos Carax is less of a degenerate than Jacques Audiard. Now there's an "achievement."

But everything else in this film is so troubling, too. Drug kingpin Manitas desires to transition and restart her life as she feels most fitting. Living now as Emilia Pérez, she begins to find a new calling in an NGO which helps bring closure to the families of victims of cartel-related violence while also trying to stay close to her former spouse and children. It’s a have your cake and eat it too situation with the family, as Emilia wants to keep her past a secret from her family, all while exerting control over her children as this newfound “aunt” and lying to her wife Jessi about her identity all while taking a new lover in Epifanía. Privacy and identity are complicated matters, but presented as such Emilia becomes something of a hypocrite. Is the transition an affirmation, or an alibi? Why the fuck should I be asking these questions in an empowerment movie, and what does that say about how disgusting is the subtext of this film? The NGO angle leaves a bad taste in the mouth, too. Emilia feels guilt over her criminal actions and uses her dirty money and dodgy connections to found this organization. It’s performative caring, all expensive fundraisers and glossy advertisements which reek of throwing money at an issue to bandage the problem for one’s own ego. Neither of these ideas are treated with any real nuance or respect, trans identity and the effects of cartel crime on communities used as window dressing for some shitty musical. Watching scores of Mexican civilians in a spotlight of constellations singing that they are here, whether to heal their families or to make right for their past, is so exquisitely embarrassing for the filmmakers that I hope they feel some shame for such shoddy filmmaking, but I doubt that is possible. Just throw it on the dumpster. Or give it every fucking award possible.

THE RULES

SIP

A song begins.

Location establishing text.

A song repeats the same lyric two or more times in a row.

Auntie is really honing in on things.

BIG DRINK

Endless crossfading of images.

That weird fucking vocoder sting happens as the camera sweeps over a landscape.

Any time you need it.

DRINK WATER

Any time you need it. Please. Take care of yourself. You're better than this movie.